#so anyway. this guy called yesterday morning and it didn’t come through so i listened to the voicemail and found out he was calling

[fingertipsmp3]

I have no proof or anything but I’m pretty sure this man, who called me twice and left two messages, is now rejecting my calls

[hyuckswoman]

mark and you arguing pt2

pt1

genre: angst then fluff

summary: after rain comes sunshine, he finally listens.

pairing: mark x y/n

“good morning” you say to your boyfriend as you pass through the kitchen reaching into a cabinet to take out a glass 

last night had been tense, because of the argument you had a really hard time sleeping, waking up every five seconds. it didn’t help that your boyfriend was the exact same, the only difference between you two being the guilty look on his face

you wanted nothing more than to tell him to forget about it and just cuddle him to sleep because being mad at him or more like emotionally tired wasn’t easy. yes, he fucked up but he’s still the greenest of green flags ever and you just love him too much so being apart with all those angsty feelings was taking a toll on you

but you decided to stand your ground nonetheless, it couldn’t be like every other time where he swooned you with his words and you ended up forgiving him. he had to learn. and even on your end, it’d be fucked up to put yourself through this. so when you woke up this morning with no one next to you, you decided to not care. turns out he was just in the kitchen though

“good morning lovely, i tried to make breakfast, i couldn’t so i went and bought some, your favorite of course, i’m just reheating it right now, juice is in the fridge by the way” your boyfriend greeted you, his back facing you (which you 100% guarantee is because he’s shitting his pants and hopes the tension eased) 

it did not though

“not only did you call me bitchy yesterday, you also said some dumb ass thing about if you were with her.. mark you’re not dumb you damn well that it’s going to take more than breakfast to ease things with me, don’t piss me off so early in the morning please” you said pouring water into your glass, getting out of the kitchen. you and mark took pride in your communication skills, so you weren’t giving him the silent treatment more like you didn’t want to be in the same room as him right now because him acting as if nothing happened pissed you off even more 

the guy was going to have to practically beg for you to be okay with him again 

“..i know, and i’m sorry” mark sighed as he joined you in the living room with the food he bought earlier hoping that despite you not being happy with him, you’d still eat cause no matter how bad the situation is, it’s important to take care of yourself! 

“like i said yesterday, i heard you mark but you know.. actions speak louder than words, until we’ve reached a point where she won’t ever be the cause of a disagreement there’s always going to be some sort of tension” you said as you reached for the food. yes, the food wasn’t an enough apology but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it 

“i know, that’s why i’m going to see her later today, set some real boundaries, tell her off kind of because i do really- and i’m not just saying this to please you or whatever, she has crossed some boundaries that she shouldn’t have so yeah maybe her and i aren’t as close friends as i thought we were” your boyfriend says pouring your favorite juice into your now empty water cup 

first of all, you did appreciate your boyfriend doing all of that (FINALLY!!) but you weren’t going to explode with joy because of him doing the bare minimum 

second of all, your boyfriend is just as much in the wrong as she is. and you debated on telling him that he should also self reflect but decided that you truly wanted him to realize it without you spelling everything out to him 

so you just hummed to the news, finishing up your breakfast heading upstairs while your boyfriend cleaned up and got ready to meet his friend

external pov? 

“hi markie” his friend said as your boyfriend took seat in front of her 

“did i make you wait long?” he replied. despite him not greeting her, her smile grew as she realized he cared about her enough to worry about her time 

“no don’t worry i just got here, anyway you wanted to talk?” she asked in anticipation, it was probably going to be good news (although good news for her meant bad news for you) she hoped your guys maybe broke up or something 

“yea and i’m going to talk for a while so please do not interrupt me” he asked as she nodded eagerly waiting for the breakup news to drop 

“i wanted to talk to you about yesterday, or every single hangout we’ve done ever since i started dating y/n. like i said, y/n and i are dating and i truly think she’s the one so i want to do everything in my power not to fuck it up. and that includes you stepping over boundaries that you shouldn’t step over seeing as though we’re friends. i think last night made me realize how odd? you were around me, how your hands lingered on me maybe a bit too long for a friend, or how you cut off my girlfriend when she was trying to talk, how you made backhanded comments towards her and look, i'm not asking you to like her but she's my girlfriend and she deserves some respect and i'll choose her over you in the blink of an eye. that’s why i’m choosing to put some distance in between us, at least until i’m 100% sure your behavior won’t be the same” mark finishes his rant, his fingers playing with his ring, dreading his (impulsive) friend’s reaction

“ain’t no fucking way you’re being serious right now mark, i’ve known you my whole life and you choose some random girl over me?” his friend says angry that not only you guys are still together but he’s dropping her for..you?? 

“if you don’t have anything respectful to say about y/n i’ll just leave clearly you’re not listening” your boyfriend answers, his patience getting tested 

“no, you don’t get the last word i do. you want to drop me for her? fine. i’ll do fine without you mark but what you cannot do is put the blame all on me. yes, i’ve been inappropriately acting with you but it’s only because you allowed it. each time i thought i was maybe reading too much into the mixed signals you were giving me you reassured me by apologizing because- in your own words - she was being irrational. mark, you are as much to blame as i am and i won’t sit here and let you shift the blame entirely onto me because you allowed me to flirt with you, which is something you would’ve never done if you loved your girlfriend as much as you say you do. and for the first time ever, i do hope you guys break up but not because i want you to myself but because she deserves better than you. fuck you mark” his friend says leaving the café leaving a dumbfounded mark. 

i mean she wasn’t wrong, if he had set clear boundaries from the start she would’ve never flirted with him. your boyfriend started to wonder if that was perhaps the reason why you weren’t THAT enthusiastic this morning when he told you he’d make things right.

so the whole drive home, mark’s head was clouded with thoughts that mainly centered around him being the biggest asshole ever, not only from the words he told you yesterday but also from the way he’s been acting all this time. and it saddened him that he put you through all of that. 

it’s with a heavy heart that he entered your shared house, silently praying god you weren’t going to realize that you do deserve better than him (which he knew was selfish but didn’t care) 

« so… how did it go? i don’t know what you told her but if it’s the same thing you told me this morning I’m guessing she didn’t take it very well » you say watching your boyfriend enter the house 

you guessed it must have went sour judging from the gloomy face he’s making and how deep in thought he seems to be. You didn’t like his friend but you know he liked her very much so you hoped that she said something along the lines of ‘yes i understand and i’m sorry, i’ll respect your boundaries better in the future and i’m hoping we can still be friend’ to salvage their friendship but at the same time you weren’t a fool and you knew that it realistically could never happen 

« it didn’t go super great, we’re not friends anymore but you know in retrospect it’s not a huge loss she wasn’t as good of a friend as i believed she was » you boyfriend started sitting down next to you on the couch 

you wondered what was up with him though, he looked genuinely devastated and it worried you to see him in such state 

« then what’s up? i wouldn’t usually pry and instead wait until you open up to me, but mark i’m concerned you look… sad. and i know we’re in a disagreement right now but i still sincerely believe that you’re the love of my life so i hate to see you upset » you say as your boyfriend slowly lifts his head and looks at you with glossy eyes before his first tear shed 

you immediately hugged your boyfriend rubbing his back as he mumbled through tears about how you deserved better, which you were confused about where it came from, so when his tears quieted down you looked at him waiting to explain

« she just… she said something about how we’re both in the wrong and it upset me because she’s right and she made me realize it instead of me realizing it on my own.. and she said you deserved better and at first i thought whatever she’s just mad i don’t care but she’s not wrong. You deserve better than a boyfriend who lets his friends flirt with him and who dismisses you and acts as if their friend is correct. i’m not trying to victimize myself or manipulate you with my words i’m just really sorry that i’ve been such an undeserving boyfriend and i selfishly don’t want to let you go when maybe i should so, please, give me another chance and i’ll prove to you that i can be the boyfriend you deserve. i swear i’ll be better just please don’t leave me » you boyfriend says. 

you were honestly kind of taken aback by every single one of his thoughts. you did feel a little guilty at first but that quickly went away when you remembered why you guys were in this situation in the first place. 

« listen, like i told you i’m not mad. i was just tired of you not listening to me but it seems like you’ve heard me this time even though i wished it had not gotten that far. i love you and i do not deserve better than you, you fucked up but i fuck up all the time as well and even though i did not picture the end of this situation with me reassuring you, it does not mean that you’re manipulating me, you feel guilty and that’s normal because you messed up but we’ll move past this. it’s a little bump in the road. and i sincerely think that if this situation has taught us anything it’s that we shouldn’t listen to your friend, ESPECIALLY when she says you’re not good enough for me. now dry your big boy tears and let’s go watch a movie yea? all is better don’t worry anymore » you told your boyfriend. 

you really meant your words, everything that mark needed to learn from this he learnt, you knew him well enough to guarantee that you won’t ever be put in a similar situation ever again and that this whole mess kinda made your boyfriend grow up a little? 

plus you were never one to hold grudges, so finally calling this fight over to cuddle and watch a movie with your highly sensitive, still borderline crying boyfriend was quite an easy thing to do. And even though you told him it was okay the next billion times he apologized to you during the following days, it did not stop him from spoiling you with gifts, kind words, actions etc.. like the man shoved all five love languages down your throat and even though it wasn’t necessary, it was always nice and made you feel loved.

that’s why in retrospect, you were (kinda) glad this whole thing happened and he was glad he learnt how to be better for his pretty girl. 

[honeypiehotchner]

kiss her, you fool (Hotch x fem!Reader) -- one shot

Anyway I'm back in the fucking building again!!!! Listened to "Kiss Her You Fool" by Kids That Fly and had this one shot written in like an hour. The love for Aaron Hotchner never dies apparently

Summary: You're in the middle of spring cleaning when Aaron calls and says he forgot something at your place (he didn't).

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff! I just wanted to write some romance

It’s the middle of the day and you’re in the middle of a cleaning frenzy when your phone rings for what looks like the third time. It’s Aaron.

“Hey! Sorry,” you laugh, grabbing the TV remote to pause your music, phone pressed to your ear with your shoulder. “I’m spring cleaning and clearly way too far in the zone. What’s up?”

“That’s okay,” you can hear him smiling as you readjust your phone in your hand. “Would it be alright if I stopped by? I think I left something there last night.”

You furrowed your brows, spinning around the living room. You definitely would’ve noticed if he left something here last night. You’ve practically turned your entire apartment upside down to clean it.

“Are you sure?” you ask, moving to lift the couch cushions for a third time. “What was it?”

“I’m not sure,” he says, which totally isn’t suspicious at all. “Can I just come look?”

“I mean,” you let out an awkward laugh. “I guess you can. I’ve been cleaning since this morning, though, so I think I would’ve spotted it, but—”

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” he says. “If that’s okay?”

You sigh, selfishly glad you’re getting to see him again, two days in a row. It feels like you’ve hit the jackpot. “Yeah, of course it’s okay.”

“Great, see you in a few.”

“See you,” you bite back your grin, ending the call. You turn the music back on, a little lower so you’ll hear him when he knocks.

You have no earthly idea what he could’ve forgotten. He had his phone and jacket in hand when he left. He never took his wallet or keys out of his jacket pockets, so they must’ve stayed there. Unless either of them fell out, but again, you feel like you would’ve noticed.

Whatever it is, he’ll either find it or realize it isn’t here. Regardless, you’re getting to see him again, so you’ll take it.

With his job, the days that you do see Aaron are typically one long day spent together here and there. Yesterday was an exception, a rare dinner mid-work week because he happened to be done at the office early and you were free, so obviously the opportunity was taken advantage of. It’s only been a few weeks of seeing one another, so you both take any chance you can get. 

Despite this, though, things have moved…slow. Slower than you expected because, to be frank, every guy you’ve been with has been quick and to the point. Not that you always minded that. Sometimes you wanted the same thing — quick, hot, heavy. But those days have since left you, and you went through a period of seeing no one, aside from one guy who left as soon as you said you were interested in moving slowly. 

It’s nothing against Aaron, but when he first introduced himself at your local coffee shop, you kind of assumed he’d be the same. It’s hard not to assume when everyone acted that way, and when the men who frequent said coffee shop don’t exactly have the best track record for being polite and respectful.

Aaron, though, took weeks to ask for your number, let alone to join your table one morning to sip his coffee — and even then, you offered him the seat; he didn’t invite himself. That alone was enough for you to agree to give him your number, and then to an official first date.

He kissed your cheek after the first date, your forehead after the second, and kept to those areas alone. You found yourself wondering if something was wrong with you somehow, but he wasn’t disinterested. Quite the opposite, actually, from how he held your hand and kept his arms around you, how he made sure you were safely inside your apartment before heading off, how he still texted when he arrived home to ask you if you were still safely inside.

Or when he had to cancel a date last minute, and sent flowers to your apartment in lieu of his presence. He apologized over the phone, but the flowers had an apology note attached too. And another apology when he arrived at your door four days later, fresh off the plane, with a real explanation of his job and why he didn’t have time to explain it all to you before he left.

Your friends think it’s a little crazy, that it’s been almost a month of dating and there hasn’t been a single kiss — “On the cheek doesn’t count!” they argue. You think it does. If anything, you’re just happy there’s no pressure.

The underlying anxiety is there, sure, of what if it never happens? But you can’t bring yourself to entertain the thought. Mainly because you want to kiss him so bad, you’re practically going to leap onto him one of these days.

You’re mid-dance when a knock sounds on your door and you jump, having forgotten Aaron said he would be here soon. You turn the music down as you head for the door, unlocking it to let him in.

He stands there in his usual dark suit, sans tie this time so the top buttons are undone, bouquet of flowers in hand and dumb smile on his face.

“What are these for?” you ask when he hands them to you. 

He steps inside and shuts the door, pausing to press a kiss to your forehead. “Because I wanted to.”

You give him a look, cheeks feeling warm. “If you keep doing this ‘because you want to,’ I’m gonna need to open a flower truck,” you joke, gesturing to the other vase of flowers sitting in your window. And there’s another in the bathroom. And one in your bedroom. 

“Just let me know what kind of truck you want,” he teases.

You press the flowers to your nose to hide your smile. “Oh, what did you forget? You’re welcome to look for it, but—”

He lets out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I might have lied.”

“I knew you were, you idiot,” you swat playfully at his arm. You turn to head into the kitchen in search of another vase. “I got off the phone and paced around like what did he possibly leave here? I figured maybe your wallet or something, but I definitely would’ve found it earlier. You should’ve seen the living room this morning — I had the couch on its side and the coffee table in the middle of the hallway—”

You’re in the middle of rambling, digging around under the sink for a vase, when Aaron pulls you up by your hand, spinning you to face him.

“—it was a disaster trying to vacuum. Remind me never to do that unless you’re over here to lift all of it. I think I nearly—”

He’s smiling at you, and you don’t have a single moment to spare to register that he’s leaning in before his lips are on yours. 

You sigh into the kiss, pleasantly surprised to be interrupted in this way, and glad your hands are free so you can hold onto him. Maybe this is why it’s good he hadn’t kissed you yet — one second of it and you’re ready to collapse under the sweet weight of it all. His arms circle your waist to lift you up, and your arms circle his neck, keeping him close. As close as you’ve really wanted him.

When you finally break for air, it’s only to press your foreheads against one another’s, not wanting to move too far.

“Well,” you laugh.

“Technically,” he says, pausing to peck your nose, “that’s what I forgot last night.”

You roll your eyes. “You are so stupid.”

“Mm, just because it makes you smile,” he says, kissing your lips again, and again. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Ideally,” you pause, letting him kiss you again, “ordering dinner in and making out with my boyfriend until the sun rises. You?”

“You know, I was thinking about taking someone special out to dinner,” he pauses, pulling you closer again, “and then kissing her until she tells me to stop.”

“That could be forever, for all you know.”

“That’s fine with me.”

You grin and he kisses you again, pausing to say, “Sorry, I can’t help myself—”

“Trust me,” you move even closer, your eyelashes practically touching his cheeks when you blink, “you don’t need to apologize.”

He responds by kissing you some more, and more, until he’s lifting you into his arms and placing you on the kitchen counter. 

“Aaron!” you squeal, nearly crushing the bouquet. “Let me move the flowers at least!”

“I’ll buy you another,” he says, just a whisper away from kissing you again. 

“You know—” You have to pause in between words as he presses his lips to yours. “—I still have—cleaning—Aaron,” you giggle. “I need to put my apartment back together.”

“Do you?” he asks, relenting only slightly, his fingertips pressing into your lower back, keeping you against him. “Do you need help?”

“I do actually,” you chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. “The couch isn’t back where it was.”

He smirked. “I noticed.”

You tug on his hair slightly to tease him for that jab, only it lights a new spark behind his eyes. Your cheeks grow even warmer. “No, seriously,” you say. “It’ll stress me out if it’s not back in its spot, but then…”

He nods, kissing your lips. “Then we’ll get ready for dinner.”

“And then come back here for a movie?”

“We’ll see how much of the movie we actually pay attention to,” he smirks, eyes traveling all over your face. 

The urge to let him ravish you right now against the kitchen counter is so strong it nearly makes you lightheaded. But soon Aaron is helping you down, pressing another kiss to your forehead. 

“Did you get to vacuum under the couch all the way?”

“…kind of.”

“Come on,” he chuckles, pulling on your hand, leading you back into the living room. “Call me next time?”

“If I get kissed like that during spring cleaning then I’m doing it every day,” you reply, mostly joking. Kind of. “Fuck I forgot the vase for the flowers—”

Aaron kisses you to interrupt you once again. “One thing at a time,” he says.

The kissing doesn’t stop, and you never do get to vacuum under the couch. It can wait.

[kingdaddydaichi]

══════════════════

‎♡‧₊˚ HAIKYUU BOYS WHEN THEY GET SICK

ft. daichi. osamu. bokuto. suga. asahi.

══════════════════

‎♡‧₊˚ DAICHI

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Work

WILL STILL TRY TO GO TO WORK

“daichi, baby, you can’t go to work! you work with the public. what if you get people sick? what kind of police officer gets people sick? your job is to serve and protect and you can’t even protect people from your own germs? no, you shouldn’t go!”

but he’ll try to go in any damn way😤

“nah, i’m fine!” he’ll say before going into a coughing fit.

stubborn man

he’ll get ready for work looking and feeling like shit, but he’s determined - he’s Going To Work™️

it would take an army to stand between him and his sense of duty

mans won’t listen to reason

so after he leaves, you send a text to his sergeant: “i tried! i tried to get him to stay home but he wouldn’t listen.”

sarge is like: “damn workhorse.”

gets yelled at by his boss at the station then comes back home

his sergeant’s all “what the fuck are you doing here? go the fuck home. that’s an order, sawamura! i’ll take your fucking badge!”

Home

45 mins later he comes walking back IN the door

and you’re just there like “mmhmm” as he hangs his tired head and mopes back to the bedroom to change out of his uniform and back into his pajamas

daichi: you texted him, didn’t you?

you: how far did you make it in before he turned you away?

daichi: he was waiting outside. wouldn’t even let me in the door.

“i told you. you work too hard, baby," you say, following behind him with the cooling strip you just grabbed from the fridge. you’d put it in there to start getting cold as soon as you realized he wasn’t feeling well.

he was on his back when you woke up next to him that morning, his t-shirt slightly damp in the front and back. he’d been sniffling and congested since he got home from work yesterday afternoon.

will still try to do everything himself

you’ll come through the living room to check on him and find that your sick husband is missing from the couch.

so you finally get him settled down on the couch only to return after leaving the room for a few minutes and…your husband is missing from the couch! AGAIN!

“are you serious?” you go looking for him, exasperated. “daichi?!” 

“‘m in here,” he croaks from the kitchen.

“what are you doing?” you ask impatiently.

“i wanted more tea.”

“i told you if you needed anything, let me know, i’ll get it for you!”

you have to shoo him back to the couch while insisting that you’re going to take care of him.

Medicine

he’ll take medicine. he’s stubborn, not stupid. he’s Enneagram Type 1.

“if you get sick, you take medicine. why? ‘cause that’s what you’re supposed to do.”

Doctor

won’t go unless he’s been sick for a few days and isn’t getting better. and even then you have to make the appt for him sometimes. 🙄

stubborn, stubborn man. 😮‍💨 but you love him more than the sun loves the moon.

══════════════════

‎♡‧₊˚ OSAMU

══════════════════

Work

he wouldn’t go to work; it wouldn’t be difficult to get him to stay home bc he knows he works in the food business and he doesn’t want to contaminate any food or run the risk of spreading anything around.

he’s got customers AND employees to think about!

once he feels better tho and he’s not contagious anymore, even if his symptoms aren’t completely gone yet, he’ll go to work and wear a mask which is pretty standard if you're sick in Japan anyway.

Home

he’s just so chill

he’s been calling the shop every 2 hours. “how’s everything going? did so-and-so show up? did you clean out the rice cooker?”

he doesn’t mean to micromanage, he just misses his business. and he’s hands on. he works the front of the house ffs.

maybe he just calls a couple of times a day tho.

“how’s everything going? hm…okay. if you need anything, call. you know how to get in touch with me. please call me."

employee: "what?"

osamu: "what?"

Medicine

used to be anti-medicine UNTIL he became a business owner

“i don’t need no stinkin’ medicine.”

he’s a tough guy

but nowadays, he wants to hurry up and feel better so he can get back to work.

══════════════════

‎♡‧₊˚ BOKUTO

══════════════════

Work

he would be bummed bc he couldn’t practice or play with the jackals. he doesn’t even get to sit on the bench bc he has to stay home. the team is like “stay. the. hell. away. from. us.”

he got the whole team sick once so now he sneezes during practice and everybody just stops and turns around and looks at him like “istg bokuto! are you sick? if you sneeze again, you’re outta here, we are NOT going through that again!”

the whole team once got a stomach bug on his account. he tried to power through it and went to practice and they had a big match the next day, but everybody was fucking SHITTING, PUKING and the whole fucking team was down. they had to forfeit the game and chalk it up as a loss. they were so pissed at bo.

bo rolled his ankle during a game once and had to be benched. he was so bummed that he couldn’t play as you walked with him and the assistant coach to the infirmary to have it checked out. once there, his foot was propped and iced. you told him you’d be right back and he looked up at you with limp hair and sad owl eyes, but you assured him you’d be right back.

you ran to the away campus’s gift store and managed to find an owl plushie. you held it up, beaming at it. perfect! you rushed to the cashier to pay for it before running back to the infirmary.

holding the plushie behind your back, you opened the door and walked inside, bo’s hair and facial expression just as you’d left it. but his eyebrows arched in curiosity as you smiled at him before presenting him with the owl. his hair perked back up as a pouty smile covered his face, his big, round golden eyes filling with unshed tears.

“for me?”

“for you,” you nodded, proffering it with outstretched arms.

“y/nnnnn!” he cried, grabbing your arms and pulling you into his lap to hug both you and the plushie.

you kissed his cheek with a sweet smile. “i hope this helps you feel better, baby.”

he clung to that owl plushie for the rest of the game, like a mother owl protecting her owlet.

to this day, whenever he gets sick, he asks for the owl plushie. it’s his comfort lovey, his security plushie.

he’s so adorable…like an overgrown toddler, basically.

i luz he.

Home

B A B Y

he’s SUCH a baby about it the whole damn time

omg you will just hear him groaning from the other room

just “ohh ughhh ohmygod uhhh…i feel so awful…oh god i can’t breathe through my nose…ohhh i’m so hungry but i don’t wanna get up and get anything to eat…babyyyyy can i have a grilled cheese sandwich?”

he’s so sweet about it but he’s a baby

he’s such a hypochondriac, y’all.

Virgo much?

he’s all up on webmd using the symptom checker

“i don’t know, baby. what if it’s not just a cold? what if it’s this rare disease that’s only found in Antarctica?”

“bo, you don’t have that. only penguins get that. stop.” 

you finally have to just take his phone away so he’ll stop googling stuff and trying to diagnose himself with a brain tumor

“bo, you not being good at math is NOT a brain tumor symptom!”

he gets so much as a sniffle and he’s down for the count

he can barely get out of bed

“baby, come check my head. am i hot? am i running fever? where’s the thermometer?”

“no, baby, you don’t feel warm.”

“are you sure? you better get the thermometer and check just in case.”

Medicine

will take ALL the medicines

he’ll be looking for the cough suppressant and you’re like “bo! you don’t even have a cough.”

“i don’t care! i need all the things!”

you have to keep the medicine cabinet under lock and key, otherwise you might find him hallucinating and drunk on a cocktail of NyQuil, DayQuil, Benadryl, eyedrops, heartburn medicine, and Orajel. 

Doctor

calls a neurologist and tries to schedule a CT scan.

and you’re in the background, “BO! I TOLD YOU YOU DO NOT HAVE THAT PENGUIN DISEASE! DO NOT SCHEDULE A CT SCAN!”

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‎♡‧₊˚ SUGA

══════════════════

Work

finally, someone with enough sense to stay home from work when he’s sick. you won’t have to tell him twice bc he cares about all the crotch goblins at school and doesn’t want to get all those kids sick.

Home

suga…he’s clever

and mischievous

getting him to stay home from work is a piece of cake, but good luck getting him to stay down

he takes care of others, not the other way around

you catch him doing stuff too

unlike with daichi, it’s not that he doesn’t want to be a burden, it’s that he can’t NOT be a caretaker?

you try to take care of him but he ends up taking care of you…and you’re not even sick?

like, not only does he not let you take care of him, he does stuff for you

he doesn’t go out of his way to do stuff for you, he’s just thinking like finally! i’ve got a day off during the week so i can get some things done around here. stuck at home, can’t go anywhere else so it’s a perfect opportunity to get caught up with housework!

you try to stay home too to take care of him but he INSISTS that you leave

“i will kick you out of the house if you don’t leave!”

so you leave - you go to work but before you walk out the door you point at him and you’re like “okay…but you better rest! i know you! you’ll take this opportunity to get a bunch of shit done around the house. don’t you do it! you better rest and take it easy!”

and he’s all “yes, okay, yeah yeah yeah. fine. go. bye.”

and sure enough you come home after work later and this motherfucker has done laundry, he’s probably prepped dinner, graded homework - and he’s laid up on the couch just GROANING bc of how terrible he feels. and you just look at him with your hand on your hip like “mmhmm! mmhmm! look at you now. see! i told you!”

he told you “sure! sure i won’t do any work…” liar

you come home and he can barely hold his head up.

poor guy.

“i don’t feel sorry for you. you did this to yourself.” 

but you take care of him anyway. “suga? why do you do this to yourself, baby? next time you get sick i’m getting horse tranquilizer to make sure you get rest. i’ll put you down sir!”

Medicine

so when you get home and he’s remodeled the house, having forgotten to take any medicine so now not only is he exhausted from overworking himself when he should’ve been fucking resting, but also his symptoms have gotten out of hand. 

“well,” you put your hand on your hip and raise your eyebrows at him as he lies groaning on the living room floor. “i hope you’re satisfied. because now you’re staying home tomorrow too. on the bright side, you’ve gotten all the work done around here so I guess tomorrow you might actually rest." cute dumbass sometimes.

══════════════════

‎♡‧₊˚ ASAHI

══════════════════

Work:

he’s so easy?

“asahi, you’re sick, baby. you need to stay home from work.”

“okay.” he’s not gonna argue.

he might try to say “well i’ve got such and such show coming up. i’ve gotta have this and that done…”

and you’re just “asa. that’s why you have people there to back you up. you’re not a one man team. your colleagues will help. you’ll more than make up for it bc you’re such an amazing designer! now go lay down.” and he will. 🥲

Home

he’s not gonna fight you on anything bc he doesn’t fight at all

he’s a lover, not a fighter

model patient

avoids conflict at all costs

“yes, darling. yes, dear. okay. okay.”

doesn’t complain

so easy to take care of

except he won’t ask for shit

will either try to get stuff himself or just go without bc he can’t decide what’s worse - burdening you, or getting in trouble for being up walking around again bc you told him to let you know if he needed something

so he just kinda tries to do without shit? and you have to come check on him.

“asahi? when’s the last time you had a drink of water?”

“uhh…two hours ago?”

“ASAHI!”

“it doesn’t matter what I do, i feel bad! i can’t win for losing!” 

finally you get through to him and he’ll ask for shit, but he’ll apologize first. like “um, babe? uhh…”

“hm? what ya need, asa?”

“umm, i’m so sorry to bother you but would you…could you…possibly…maybe…potentially…”

“oh my god, spit it out. and don’t apologize.”

“oh,” he says, averting his eyes in shame. “s-sorry.”

“stahhp!”

"sorry"

Medicine

he will take it bc you told him to and he doesn’t want to fight

══════════════════

‎♡‧₊˚ hq mlist ‎˚₊‧♡

‎reblogs and (nice) comments are wonderful !! ♡

+ tagging + @crystal-lilac @chaoskrakenuwu @briokayama @lanaxians-2 @yuujispinkhair @i4sgwr @mrs-sawamura @heroesfan101 @millenialfanfictionaddiction @darthferbert @anejuuuuoy @ceo-of-daichi @honeybunny-sawamura ++ ask/dm/carrier pigeon if you wanna be added to or removed from a fandom or character taglist

══════════════════

[your-mums-nuts]

Here's a fun request based off some old discussions I had with friends about Emerald City + Rosegarden. How about Emerald just being the akward third wheel to Rosegarden? So Ruby and Oscar could be having a moment but Emerald interupts it by opening a soda can.

(Thanks for the asks! Please send more! I threw in some emercury implied because ofc I did. This is also included in the emerald and Oscar farm shenanigans from the other ask you sent:) can you tell I had fun writing this? I hope you like it!)

“Pause the game”.

“Excuse me!?”.

“Emerald, pause the game, Ruby’s on the phone”.

She did pause the game, made a big show of it just to announce how pissed off she was that she even had to do it.

She muttered something about bros before hoes and Oscar didn’t even have time to blush before Ruby was chattering away at him.

“Oscar! It’s been so long, how are things with you guys? How’s your aunt? How’s Emerald? Shit! How are you?”.

He chuckled at the speed of her speech and waited a few seconds for his brain to catch up.

“Emerald is going great Ruby! She just loves listening to you two stammer your way through a conversation”. Oscar flipped her off and heard Ruby mutter something on the other end of the line, “what was that?”, he asked, still giving Emerald the finger.

“Yang wanted me to say that she’s happy someone else understands her pain”.

“Geez, we’re not that bad are we?”.

Ruby snickered into the receiver and the endearing crackling of it made his heart skip a beat or two.

“According to our older sisters, we sure are!”.

“What’re we gonna do!?”, he mocked, making a face at Emerald.

“Kill yourself”, Emerald muttered at the exact same time Ruby exclaimed, “get new sisters!”.

“Sounds like a plan!”.

“I am not going to just sit here and listen to the two of you slander my good name!”, Emerald threw her hands up in exasperation.

“Then leave”, both he and Ruby said in unison, earning him a sweet laugh from Ruby and a groan from Emerald.

“You and Mercury are just as bad, at least Ruby’s not living with me! In the house my most generous friend Oscar invited me and only me to!”.

“We don’t come separately! You knew this!”.

“Looks like you bought one and got one free”, Ruby chirped from the phone that he had forgotten he was holding, he grinned guiltily, even though she couldn’t exactly see him, and scolded himself for letting Emerald distract him from his goal. Which was to talk to Ruby.

“Hey Em, you wanna go elsewhere?”, he asked sweetly.

“Else-where?”.

“As in, somewhere else! That isn’t here!”.

“Fine, you’ve just made this room lame anyway”.

He waited until he heard her footsteps enter the hallway before returning to the matter at hand.

“Sorry about that”, he grimaced.

“Don’t apologise, not our fault our sisters don’t have lives and exist only to annoy us”.

“Yeah, but I’ve dedicated my life to getting her back for being annoying so it’s really such a vicious cycle”.

“Same, yesterday Blake was over and they were being so disgusting right in front of my salad, so I sprayed her with water”.

Oscar barked a laugh at the unexpected action.

“No it’s not even funny, I shouldn’t even be telling you”.

“Tell me!”. He demanded instantly.

“Only ‘cause your cute”.

“You can’t even see me”.

“I just have a feeling, am I wrong?”.

He huffed and tried to physically stop smiling (he couldn’t).

“Well, Mercury said I looked like a Boy Scout this morning, so I’m unsure”.

“You do, but in a cute way”.

“I hate that guy”, Oscar grumbled.

“That’s just ‘cause he’s dating your sister”.

“They’re not dating and she’s not my sister”.

He could hear her scoff through the phone, “be for real, she lives with you and calls you lil bro”.

“She actually calls me shithead, I’m only little bro in front of her beloved aunt may”.

Ruby laughed a little too hard at that, it made the phone crackle like a campfire which in turn made Oscar think of all the campfires they used to build in the war, which made him sigh with nostalgia.

“What’s wrong?”.

“Just thinking about how I miss when we were still at war, like a total dick”.

She sighed too, it was exactly like his.

“No, I know what you mean. I miss the camping and the whole… togetherness of it all”.

A moment of silence and then…

“I- I miss you”.

He sighed like it was the one thing he didn’t know he had been waiting to hear. “Yeah”, he let the words fall out of him, filter-less, “I miss you too, a lot”.

A companionable silence stretched the moment out, not unlike their many comfortable quietly moments they’d had during the war. The moments of peace, the calm before the storm.

“What? Dad cmon! Dad, it’s Oscar”, he could hear bits and pieces of some conversation taking place between Ruby and her father and subconsciously straightened his posture.

“Oscar, I’m really sorry, dad needs the phone for work. Can I call you later tonight or-“.

He heard Ruby’s dad say something like ‘not at night!’.

“-or Tomorrow morning?”.

“Tomorrow morning sounds great!”, like hell he was gonna complain about he dads rules in front of her dad.

“Okay- I’m really sorry I have to go! Bye Osca-“, she cut off, the familiar click of being hung up on rung through the silent room.

Oscar sighed, then rearranged his face so to look not totally let down. “Em!”, he called out, “we can unpause the game now!”.

“Awww Oscar”.

He jumped completely into the air, nearly screaming at how silently she’d came into the room. Picking up on his confusion, Emerald shrugged guiltily.

“I’ve been here the whole time”, and then, more seriously, “please don’t be mad at me”.

“I’m not”, he sighed. Because he really should’ve expected nothing less, it was just the dissatisfactory way he’d ended his conversation with Ruby.

“What’s wrong dude?”.

“I don’t know, nothing”.

“Okay, want me to reset the game while you mope?”. He nodded and slumped onto the couch and threw his scroll to the other side of it. Emerald pressed a few buttons and slumped right beside him.

“You wanna know something?”.

“No”.

“I’m gonna tell you anyway even though Yangs gonna fucking kill me. So like, avenge me”.

“Fine”.

“Ruby is constantly begging to use the phone. She’s even trying to get their dad to order her some fancy one from god knows where that has great storage, you know, for those long distance calls”.

He shot up from his sulking position, making hard eye contact with Emerald, “where did you hear this?”.

“Yang, duh”.

“Since when do you and Yang talk? I thought she hated you”.

“She hates Mercury, which is his business. Can you blame her for falling for my charms? Also we both have gross siblings who have gross crushes on each-other, so there’s that”.

“Be honest, why were you talking?”.

Emerald let out a long, suffering sigh, “she threatened to beat you up if you hurt Ruby, I threatened to beat Ruby and her and their little dog up if they hurt you”.

He gasped, “not Zwei!”.

Emerald stuck her fist in the air, “yes Zwei! That’s how much I love you, I’ll destroy a poor doggy”.

“I love you too”, he moved closer to her, grabbing his console and refusing to show her his own stupid grin.

[diduthinkihadforgotten]

i’m really so pathetic when it comes to you.

one text and i’m rolling over in my grave. the implication that you miss me, even a little bit, and i’m ready to drop everything and meet you in the windy city and pretend we were always planning this.

we aren’t supposed to talk anymore; i’m not supposed to feel like my organs are exploding when a random notification from you pops up on a friday night. you said it yourself, it’s too painful either way. i guess the path of least resistance is paved with all the thorns i pulled off roses for you.

you called me your friend today, in your random one off message. you’ve been checking if i’m alive every few days, like clockwork. everyone always said you run on a tight schedule. i’m not sure you’re even aware of it.

i saw your text while i was making dinner for my parents. i ran off to go check what you’d said, and my mother followed me. she asked what made me run, made a joke about how im more skittish than our new cat. it’s true, so i didn’t take the joke the way i should’ve.

i hid, and i thought about crying. i hid, and i thought about how every conversation i have with the only other person who understands even slightly what im going through ends up being all about you. how every story i tell has you in it. how every memory since i’ve been back home has your name included in the timestamp.

when she took me home yesterday i pointed at the top of my driveway and told her how we used to stargaze. random arguments about constellations and zodiac signs. i point at the countless empty bottles i’ve been collecting like trophies and tell her every story behind them.

that first night, how we sat behind his fucking prius while they sat down for a meal at taco bell, and talked about absolutely nothing. some random guy gave you a nod when i was bent over looking for the cap to my soda under the car. you told me you felt proud of that, even though you shouldn’t have.

she tells me i should’ve seen the signs before there were signs. every half-flirty remark that i laughed off. in the back of her car when you half-begged me to have your babies after i said something profoundly unwitty about starbucks bagel prices.

she told me everyone else could see something that wasn’t quite nothing well before there was something to see. i asked how she could tell. she said something about a look in your eyes whenever i’d do something like catch a random frog, or deadpan some dumb joke about pokemon. she said she knew when she listened to the music i played whenever i demanded to be on aux.

we weren’t supposed to be friends then, either. even when ‘friends’ didn’t quite fit, when ‘fwb’ didn’t seem accurate and any other label was flat out untrue. we stayed friends anyway. no one reads my mind like you do, and there are people who have spent their lives trying.

i miss lying to everyone i know. insisting you always slept on my floor, rather than curled up with me in my bed. i miss faking my way through conversations about movies we didn’t watch. telling all my friends i had a rotation of park rangers i saw weekly. that the imaginary park rangers are where all those suspiciously fingerprint shaped bruises on my hip came from.

you always thought that was hilarious. i’d mention a fake park ranger by name, and you’d stifle a laugh. no one quite listened to us enough to read between the lines.

i miss my best friend. i miss my rival. my attorney. my partner in crime. my wednesday morning lover, my friday night drinking buddy. my beer-pong teammate, my shoulder to sleep on. my evil twin, and my better half.

every bad horror movie i watch reminds me of you. every bottle of rum has me tasting your name on my lips.

and i miss you, still.

[solardick]

Teying to make an appointment by phone to make an appointment to see a doctor. Is the equilavent of an existemtial crisis. Ot is so stressful. It becomes an emergency. I hate this place. Call here no call there no, go online. No wait for an hour. No call back over there. Fuck you. No go wait iat the ER for 13 hours. For sevond rate service.

I had a micro hwart attack one day. I could feel a flake moving through my veins. A point of pressure. And pain moving from my heart to my right arm over the period of a couple weeks. Every day it would be further along where it dtarted at. After wiating. For 12 hours. Told me i have heart burn. I changed my diet. To something with high acidity levels. To reduce blood cloating. And eventually it went away sowmwhere in my right shoulder to arm area. Caus ei ate an entire block cake of pastry cake. My body did not like that.

Not an emergency. And im not worried. Not embarrased. Or any of that. So. Since ive been on the waoting list for a family doctor. But since i font have a family. And all that. Iver bene waiting for over what 5 years now.

But, it’s not all bad. After the innitial frustration of having to use a telephone. Because im ol’school. It was arranged pleasantly. As i wait probably on a mars venus transit to get a call.

The foreigner has a good hoscope. Moon in-conjunction sun. For the foreigncy. And a venus mars trine. Mostly all positive aspects. All happy go lucky.

And ih well for havign a jupiter in aqua and not being apart of a “union” for safety issues. Cancels out the demons. Of self expression. Oh well. Im not here to be on the active side or in the know about anything. Whether person, group or place. I did learn about one of the mechanics. That was cool. About the issues troubling him. My stupid moon felt it out. Stupid sensitive compassionate soul that causes nothing but dissatisfaction to my reality.

The head guy, didn’t even bother to look at me for 80% of the meeting and at the end they are all like. Well a decision needs to be made about who. And tried to passover me at the get go. Oh well nothing new same history since childhood. Elders and youngers. While the middle is ignored. Choose the ones that get high at work whatever.

I was primed to thinknof newspaper recently. Somi ho take a look this morning. Hells angels and the blood mafia. At war. Or some dumb crap like that. Depressants are everywhere. The message is criminals run the country. Oh and yesterday. About russia and america. About nuclear hotzones. And about if one asks google about nuclear irradiation zones. It siderracking the percentage of american soil that uninhabitable because of…. Listening to this pod cast about alexander the 1st. Emperor of the soviet union. Or whatever. Anyway. The speaker being rude, mocking, sarcastic about russian history saying “ hey, it’s russian. Always black boxing the truth…. Hypocrisy. In the songs about around the world russian was left out. Media has been dumbing down on “soviet” presence and communism. Since as long as i can remember. They are associated strongly with nuclear holocaust in depictions. Though. In pretty sure america has more irradiated deadzone(s) than the russians. At anyrate. Unlike most people i don’t judge on hearsay.

Nothing is real. Just got to find whatever significance one can to oneself. Cause theres nothign else in life. Nature talks to me. And my insync-ness. Has me on cue about environemtal events. Ok, they sre going to talk next. Look over. Hey, im a second to fast. Come on already say your line.

Why’s ot going to the guy that passively cues and primes specific stressors. “Oh you hate the types of people that sexually harrass you out of a job?” Uh.. ok. Your evil. Oh, he’s soo far in the closet thats he’s in narnia land? Oh. Ok. I thouht hhe was covering for your gay friend… no? Ok. Oh, look at what trash talking she’s preaching her family. Oh ok. “Well, maybe they should ruin the rest of her life for it.”

The deffinition of cocksukr.

Anyway. Still going on. Going on 39 years. Thats just life. Hows ots always been. What donyou want me to do about it? Nothing. Yeah, i know. Theres nothing much else lile being abused at a socio-cultural level.

The pre destination of aan a available position. Is an already decided vote. Hidden behing and chances. Do not bother trying to advance on anything. There. Never try and be apart of something bigger. Not sureni want ajy resposibility. Probably so no to first aid training too. It sucks you smarter than other whom treat you like an idiot. They need the pick me up. Mars sextile pisces moon. I like takign care of and helping people and always there if your hurt. Willing to help. Yeah. No. Where has that ever gotten me but hurt. Its not like ive soent any time in childhood trying to nurse sick animals. Instead the world is populared by dipshits like my family. I must be a fag. Holy shit. A fucken degenerate.

Well i just saved a skunk from dying. Well for that moment. Trying to cross the street. While traffic is going. It left going back across the lawn.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Pedantic, chapter four - a Malevolent AU

Arthur Lester is the best IT architect in the world, and the reason Carcosa, Inc. has its fingers in every pie. Government, medical, everyone in the world uses its systems. Arthur is also going blind and nearly gives up… until a deeply annoying cybersecurity programmer prods him into trying something new.

Chapter Four: Surely being right across the river from John Doe is a great secret to keep. Right?

AO3

----------

Arthur woke and knew his idea wouldn’t work.

It was a silly project, anyway. Possibly a massive violation of health privacy, too, if he did it wrong, but with someone as good as Doe at covering security, maybe it wouldn’t be so silly after all.

Maybe.

Good morning, Arthur, Cassilda said. Would you like some coffee?

“Gods, yes,” he groaned. He should’ve drunk water last night. Why had he done this to himself?

Stupid headache. Stupid head. Stupid choices. Stupid disease.

He’d felt cautious yesterday. Today, headachey and smelling of champagne, he couldn’t be arsed, and over a bowl of cereal he couldn’t really taste, decided he was going to do it.

#

Kayne reached out while Arthur was in the shower.

Hey, baby, the text read, somehow insouciant even in that flat tone. Ready to blow your mind?

“Nope,” said Arthur, turning up the hot water.

Too bad, because it is pre-blown, baby. Guaranteed delight on your doorstep.

This was not how he wanted to be hungover. “I don’t need the help, thanks.”

Sure you do! It’s time doot-doot for your time doot-doot in the sunshine time for your joyful time oh whoa whoa whoa.

What the text-to-voice system did with Kayne apparently singing was not safe for work.

Arthur didn’t answer. He washed his hair.

Baby, I’ve got a dozen options for you, and you’re gonna love them all so much you’ll have trouble deciding.

“I don’t need your help, thanks.”

You certainly do, you adorable little monk, you. By the way, I’m outside.

He what. He was what? “What?”

Just happened to be in Brisbane, buddy. Super salty sweet convenient!

“I did not give you permission to come to my house! Cassilda, include the exclamation point!”

‘Fraid it’s not up to you, Artie. You know the rules.

Arthur groaned. Yes, he knew them. When he’d been fifteen, Private access to physical and mental health professional sounded pretty good, and he hadn’t known enough to ask for those to be defined.

They were defined elsewhere. In legal paperwork he’d known nothing of. And by some insane stretch of logic, that meant Kayne.

“Go away.”

Nope! Do I need to call the big guy?

Ugh. “No. Fine. Gimme a minute.”

Arthur knew Kayne couldn’t see him. That was the whole point of the coating on this glass; it was purely one way, and Kayne—standing there in the rising sun, his sunglasses on, his suit somehow raucous—could absolutely not see him move nude through his apartment to dress.

Felt like he did, though.

Arthur’s plan to take his time like a brat fell apart, and he dressed in a hurry.

“There’s the wunderkind!” Kayne said, smacking him immediately on the shoulder.

“Can we please just get this over with?” said Arthur, standing aside.

“Sure, sure… oh, Artie, you still haven’t done anything with the place! You’ve been a bad boy. This is gonna have to go in the mental health report.”

Arthur gave him the driest look he could. “Really?”

Kayne swooped past him to the center of this glorious penthouse, and counted on his fingers. “One bed. One loveseat. One desk with tech-type accouterments. Artie, this is depressing.”

“I don’t want more stuff. It’s stuff to take care of and clean. Stuff in the way of my view. I’m fine. Name your fucking vacation places, and get out.”

Kayne flicked his hand like doing a magic trick.

Arthur’s feed lit up. He sighed and listened.

The first image is a white-sand beach, Cassilda said. The sky above the water has an illusion of Saturn with its rings. The second image is a red-sand desert from a bird’s eye view. The view is disrupted with a white resort of numerous buildings and a bright blue swimming pool. The third image is the New York cityscape, viewed from across a body of water. It—

“New York?” Arthur interrupted.

Even he could see Kayne’s surprised body language. “Yeah, but from Jersey. That area that got rebuilt after Hurricane Tony. It’s gorgeous now.”

“That one,” said Arthur before he could lose his nerve, because this was a no good, very terrible idea.

“Huh. Didn’t figure you for that, buddy,” said Kayne, and Arthur couldn’t see his eyes through those glasses, but knew he was being studied. “I threw that in there for a laugh. All these places are catered, mind. Full amenities and full accessibility.”

Arthur’s fists clenched. “I don’t fucking need—”

Kayne’s finger touched his lips.

Arthur froze. He hadn’t seen it moving at all.

“Yeah,” said Kayne. “Big boss man Hastur made it damned clear the stresses of your condition are responsible for this little tantrum, so we’re going to be a good boy and go along with nice Mister Kayne’s directions, okay?”

Arthur stared at him. “How the hell have you not been sued?”

Kayne smiled.

Arthur could see it. Like it cut through everything, the blindness, the red tape, the logic of the world. He took a step back.

“Aw, Artie,” said Kayne, not stepping closer, not needing to, to make this penthouse feel small and airless and claustrophobic. “You’re worried about me? How sweet.”

“I… I…”

“Sure you want the Jersey option?” said Kayne as though pitying him.

“Yes,” said Arthur before he could change his mind.

Kayne clapped his hands. “Done! Tickets will arrive shortly. You leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow! I haven’t even—”

“Say ‘thank you,’ Artie. This place normally has a two-year waiting period.”

You know what? Whatever. Whatever. Kayne was about to be anyone’s problem but his once he retired. “All right.”

“I’ll take that in lieu. Have fun!” Kayne made a kissy noise and just left, walking out, stepping so much closer than was necessary in this place, and he smelled of cold stone and inaccessible memories and inexorable future.

Then he was past and gone, and had obnoxiously left the door open, and Arthur had to take a long moment to regain his equilibrium and himself to close it.

Maybe Hastur was afraid of Kayne. Maybe that’s why the guy stuck around.

Whatever. This was good. He could be in the same time zone as John without John knowing. Yeah. This was a great idea. Absolutely the best plan he’d ever had.

Last night’s unwisdom finally caught up, and he hurried to his opaque toilet room to vomit.

#

The trip was easy. The usual drug administered by smiling attendants, and then nothing but weird, drugged dreams until arrival.

This was fine. Arthur could see in his dreams, and that was better than reality.

He had trouble making out the signs for baggage claim, but happily could follow the crowd that way. He had trouble figuring out which would be carrying his bag, but managed to play dumb as if he didn’t know how to read his email and get directed to it.

Then he wondered why it was easier to pretend he was an idiot than face the truth of going blind.

Nope. No more of that today.

He had just worked himself into some anxiety over figuring out the transportation situation when he saw his name.

LESTER, it said, in three-foot letters, so even he couldn’t miss it.

He sighed and went to talk to the holder of the sign.

One ride later had him in Riverview.

The history of the place was something. One of the worst hit in the successive hurricanes of 2034, the whole place had basically been crushed to fine powder, sprinkled liberally with the bones of the dead.

But that was years ago. It had been renamed, rebuilt, and now, it was fancy.

A live string quartet greeted him with sweet classical lmelodies from somewhere in the twenty-first century. A row of attendants waited, taking his bag, happily explaining what there was to do here, how they would take care of him.

He didn’t miss how—both by bodily position and gestures—they took him where he needed to go without obviously saying, We know you can’t read the signs.

He couldn’t. They were too small and elegantly discreet.

“Cassilda, pay attention,” he muttered.

On it, boss.

He got to his room. He ignored his bag. He went to the window.

As Kayne had promised: across the sparkling water, New York City.

At this time of day, he could see the tall shapes of every notable tower, and with Cassilda’s help, pinpointed the direction where John Doe lived.

Well, well. Doe lived on the water, himself. They could be staring at each other right now.

There was something powerful about being this close to the man when the man didn’t know he was here.

Speaking of: “Cassilda, message John. Okay, you bastard. I’m ready. Here’s my project.”

He described it in full. It was so simple, to him; just building off current genetic testing and risk factors, just using AI to actually compile information in a way the human mind could not, but oh—how it would have changed the course of history, had people known.

Wow, said John when he was done. You planning on this being required?

“Opt-in only. And we’ll start with you and me. We are the trial.”

You. Not me.

“Scared, Doe?”

Yes.

Huh. “Why?”

I don’t want to know what this program of yours will find.

Well, that was interesting. “Fine. It’s all me, then. Coward.”

A beat.

Fine. But you don’t get to see my results. You just have to take my word.

“Means you have to be honest about those results.”

Yeah.

“All right. We’ll do it your way.”

Deal. Do you always do your best thinking at five in the fucking morning?

In Melbourne, it was. Here, it was three pm. “My sleep schedule is fucked, John. I won’t lie. I also don’t care. When do you want to start?”

Now. Today. Whenever.

“What about your actual job?”

What about your actual job?

“Your” is italicized, Cassilda said.

“I’m on vacation, you whacko. I won’t cover for you. You sure about this?”

Yeah. Get to a console. Let’s start planning.

#

However Arthur had though this would go, this wasn’t it.

John grilled him. Asked for precise details on every single step, and not just for the alpha version of this thing. Sure, but in the final release, will you want easy sharing to unrelated contacts?

“Not exactly,” said Arthur. “I want the process easy, but not simple. I want people to understand the weight of what they’re giving away.”

Unshareable outside of family and personally employed medical professionals. Right. The challenge is we are trying to lock up knowledge that’s largely already accessible to the public.

“But not organized the way we did, nor with the conclusions our program will draw.”

True. So my proposition is to create tags for two different kinds of data. One, publicly shareable, since that is already there for anyone to find, but stripped of identifying details. The second kind—results, predictions, etc.—will be locked down hard.

Arthur considered. “That’s not bad.”

Should keep this from being flagged by any number of freedom-of-information groups or medical privacy laws.

“Okay— if it’s not difficult for the user to understand and control both options.”

We’ll have proper TOS and a short version, too, so people read before accepting. Should also prevent any companies using this information against any users.

John had meant it: he was putting up with every one of Arthur’s demands. So, he added another. “No yellow anywhere in the design.”

Ha ha ha! Gee, I wonder why?

“I mean it. This is mostly monochrome, some silver gradients to imitate polished metal, and occasional pops of color for important information and buttons.”

Sure, sure. Or we could make it all pops of color.

“Chaos. I won’t have it.”

What a prick. I said that fondly. You’d know if you ever heard my voice.

He wasn’t ready. “Don’t push your luck.”

Only if you ask me to.

How… was he supposed to take that?

Arthur changed the subject. “Here’s how I want the first part to be coded. Let’s see if you really can keep up, Doe.”

It’s John, for fuck’s sake.

“Earn it.”

You’re on.

#

They talked coding for four hours. Several times, the things Arthur wanted were met with a very gentle pushback—a simple sort of maybe consider this instead because, and an explanation that made sense if (and only if) John’s assertions about bad actors were true.

“But they’ve never been able to crack that encryption before,” Arthur whined, finally feeling the jet lag and grateful that whine didn’t translate to text.

John knew, anyway. Don’t whine at me. It’s because they’re about to discover the exploit unfortunately inherited from the beta version. And then he’d explained that, and it was incredibly frustrating to realize that he was right.

“You going to implement these fixes in Carcosa, too?”

Already have.

Arthur shifted in his deck chair. A beautiful drink sat beside him—impractically tall and narrow, it had an hourglass shape that Arthur liked because it served no purpose other than beauty.

The drink was pretty good, too. He’d order a third. “I wasn’t informed.”

Legacy systems. My purview now, not yours.

“All right. We’ll do that.”

Done. Hey. You sure about no yellow?

The color hadn’t come up for hours. “Yes. Why?”

So Carcosa won’t own this.

Smart Doe. “I wasn’t planning on it, no.”

Huh. Gimme a minute.

Arthur could do that. He thanked the nice lady for the third slushy strawberry alcoholic whatever, sipped, and sighed. The breeze was warm. The shade was perfect. The water sparkled. He didn’t feel like he was spinning out of control without something to code. It was way too good to be true.

Okay. Here’s the issue. Your contract says that any content you create while employed by Carcosa belongs to Carcosa.

Arthur sat up. “What?”

Got your contract right here. Fuck, you were fifteen? Who the fuck signed off for you?

“No one. I was an emancipated minor. What the fuck? That wasn’t in my contract!”

It’s because of the vague phrasing.

“Oh, shit.” Arthur lay back with a sigh. “One of those where it’s defined in the docs I wasn’t given.”

Yeah. But!!!

Exclamation mark, exclamation mark, exclamation mark, said Cassilda.

That wasn’t in my contract. I can do whatever the fuck I want. And there’s absolutely nothing in yours about you consulting on projects.

Arthur licked his lips. That was a whole can of worms, but one thing rang in his head like a bell: that would make this not his project. “Wait. Wait, I… wait.”

It’s still yours, Arthur. John guessed. This is just legal shit.

“And control. And money.”

And protects you legally.

“But I wouldn’t have control over it going forward.” Fuck. They could do anything with this. Make knock-off versions, or limited ones, or—

Do you trust me?

“No,” said Arthur without thinking.

Even though I warned you about this, and I didn’t have to?

Did he trust anybody?

Parker. But there really wasn’t anyone else, was there? Bella had been his best friend, Daniel the closest thing to a parental figure he’d ever had, but they hadn’t spoken in years.

The last time they’d spoken, they’d fought. The most perfect code will never love you back, Daniel had said as Bella stared, tears in her eyes, hands over her mouth.

Arthur had thought that was stupid, and cheesy, and had told them to get out.

And Daniel had been right.

Does that really mean I’m going to trust a guy I’ve never seen who’s completely hidden his past?

Still there, Lester?

“Yeah. Let’s make a deal.”

A pause. Who’s pushing their luck now?

“Me. Who’s also taking the risk.”

This is me scoffing. Scoff.

Arthur hadn’t intended to laugh, but he did, anyway, then blamed it on the drink. “Each time I trust you, you have to give me personal information.”

Hold on, now.

“You said you’re invested. That your star rises and falls on me. Am I your golden goose? Then don’t cut me open. Fucking feed me grass.”

It felt like a grand speech until John Doe started laughing.

Goose! Ha ha ha ha ha!

Arthur’s face felt hot. “Oh, shut up. I’m serious.”

Sure thing, Honker Lester! Ha ha ha ha ha!

Arthur hunched on his deck chair and spent a solid minute having Cassilda describe obscene emoji before choosing his response.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Fine. Arthur laughed, too. “Dumbass.”

Your golden prick is safe from me. I’m neither gutting nor circumcising you.

“Fuck’s sake, Doe!”

You want something personal before we proceed, right?

Arthur sat up. “Right.”

Fine. I’m nobody, but I have connections. I don’t need this job—I want this job. That’s important. I like working with you, but I’m not fucked if it falls apart. Starting fresh would cost me nothing. So here, me trusting you and you trusting me, I want it to work. I want you to keep creating; you see stuff the way nobody else does. And I want to work with you, so I’m willing to compromise to make this work. Okay?

There was so much to parse in that. “Is that why your contract is so different from mine? Connections?”

Yes.

“Who’s your connection?”

Later. If we’re doing this, I can’t drop it all at once. Golden goose principle.

“Honk Doe.”

Honk honk, baby.

Arthur laughed again, though he felt stupid about it. “All right. We’ll keep going.” And he did.

------

CHAPTER FIVE

Notes:

The whole drugged-to-travel thing is a reference to The Jaunt by Stephen King.

[fastlikealambo]

The Girlfriend: Modern rockstar! Eddie Munson x Black Reader Angst Drabble

Summary:Your relationship with rockstar Eddie Munson goes public and you’re not prepared for what happens next.

Trigger Warnings:bullying, mentions of depression, some gaslighting (not eddie), panic attacks

Minors, dni.

Act One: A list. 

10 Celebrities You Didn’t Know Had Non-Famous Significant Others

A blurry shot of you and Eddie at some restaurant, your name spelled wrong.  You laughed it off, made jokes about calling your agent sitting on Eddie’s lap while he worked on a new song.  Things were good, you had gotten a good job in LA, Corroded Coffin had finished their first big tour.

You only had a few friends on social media then, Eddie, the band, a few family members.  You had a shitty phone so half your posts were out of focus anyway. 

But you were happy and that’s all that mattered.

Act two: A viral moment.

“Smile princess!” Eddie yelled over the roar of the crowd, a curtain away.  You smiled shyly at his phone, the flash in your eyes as you kissed Eddie on the cheek.

“Knock em dead babe.” You whispered in his ear playfully pushing him on stage.

You woke up in Eddie’s arms the next morning to your phone nearly vibrating off the table. It had to be an emergency so you climbed over your sleepy boyfriend in a rush, praying it wasn’t.  Instead of a dire text from your parents, you had over 2,0000 notifications. No wonder your phone felt like it was gonna burst into flames.

The first one you clicked on led you to a tagged post of Eddie’s own photo of you both from the previous night but it wasn’t on his instagram or the band’s, just a random account.

“Baby?” You asked the rocker who had finally fully woken up beside you stretching.

“What’s up princess, you want to grab breakfast before I go to the studio?” Eddie asked, a lazy arm pulling you back into bed.

“Did you post that picture of us last night?” You asked, handing him your phone.

“No, I forgot. Did I send it to you?” He asked, hands in his hair.

“No.”

Eddie’s team is there twenty minutes later, talking around you, coming to the conclusion that Eddie’s phone had been hacked or that someone had taken a picture of you two taking the photo, whatever it was you weren’t really listening.

You were going through every single notification, your sudden influx of new followers,  scrolling through the comments on what looked like a fan run account for Eddie. You can’t help but look at the comments, most are sweet, remarking about how cute you two looked, how happy you must be, but one comment sticks out first.

corrodedfan45 she’s not that pretty.

Eddie’s face appears in front of you, hand on your thigh.

“You okay? I know it’s a lot at once but  it’ll die down after a few days. If it doesn’t, I’ll take care of it, I’ll take care of you, I promise.” Eddie said, pulling you close. Suddenly exhausted, you gave him a small smile, your head on his shoulder.

“I bet it’ll be old news by tomorrow morning.” You said, hopefully, more for Eddie’s benefit than your own but the comment floats through your brain.

She’s not that pretty.

Act Three: A video. 

“Storytime guys: I met Eddie Munson’s girlfriend yesterday and let me tell you, she was not worth the hype!  I tried to ask her for a photo and get this: she said no and tried to take my phone. Tried to grab it out of  my hand, can you believe it? Who does she think she is?  Does she not know her job is on google? We know how to handle her, don’t we?  If this blows up, I’ll do a part 2-”

The video cuts off and your hands are shaking.

munsongrl9000849: source? 

starbyy7873333333: i believe it, her vibes are RANCID

unorvrse69: 🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢

hawkins86: yall see the google reviews, im cackling

rightsideup: he’s a 10 but he’s dating an ugly bitch

You’ve never seen that person in the video in your life, you’ve been working from home for the past two months since too many people kept parking outside your job waiting for you to come out.

Eddie’s on the European leg of his tour, sends you pictures every day, calls you every night but his absence is felt as his pr team talks around you again with your boss included in the conversation.

“I think it might be best if she didn’t work for a while, their finances are good, think of it as a vacation.”

“ The gallery will issue a statement condemning bullying of any kind, it’s being drafted as we speak, she should repost it to her socials tomorrow.”

“Why?” You asked quietly.  The team looks up at you as if noticing that you’re there for the first time.

“Why what, hun?”  Eddie’s PR manager parrots your question.

“Why do I have to leave my job? I’m good at it, I enjoy working, why do I have to leave?”

“Our business rating has gone down to 1 star overnight, we need to think of the gallery.” Your boss concludes.

“You understand, don’t you?  We need to protect Corroded Coffin, Eddie’s brand is on the line here.”

“But who’s protecting me? I have to leave my job, people are lying about me, people are watching me, who in this room right now is looking after me?”

“Oh you poor thing.” Eddie’s PR manager pats your leg in what he thinks passes as sympathy. 

“ Are you still taking your meds? The last thing the brand needs is a rehab stint, sweetie. Oh and it’s best if I take that too, we haven’t finished the plan to announce your engagement yet.” 

Before you can say another word, your engagement ring is in a baggie, never to be seen again.

“ I can’t wait to take you with me next time, you would love Dublin sweetheart.” Eddie said, spinning the phone around so you can see the view behind him.

“It looks amazing baby, I’m so proud of you.” You said, trying to smile.

“ You alright angel? Did you eat today? You look like you’re coming down with something.”

“ I’m fine baby, don’t worry, just missing you is all. Have a good show tonight.” You said, mustering up a big smile but Eddie’s concerned face doesn’t waver.

“You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”

“ I would.”

Act Four: A deluge.

ccoffin_56: where’s his fucking gf? why isn’t she supporting him?

vecnasbitch: eddie’s such a sweet bby he needs to listen to us about her

pulluptotheaddy777: #dumpthatbitch

“ That’s it, I’m coming home.”  Eddie said the moment you came into view on FaceTime.

“Eddie no, you can’t leave the band like that. Your manager turned off all my socials, I’m fine now.”

“Baby, you’re not fine. Your mom called me, she’s worried about you, I’m worried about you.  I’m sorry, I  shouldn’t have waited this long, I’m on the next flight out of Barcelona.”

“Your manager already released a statement-

“Fuck my manager, I care about you. None of this means shit without you, the tour is done.”

“But-” You don’t finish, as your throat tightens and the tears begin to fall.

“Sweetheart? Come on baby, talk to me.”

“It’s never gonna stop, is it? If you end the tour, they’ll blame me. I can’t go back to work,  I can’t leave the house, somebody followed my sister and her kids home the other day, my phone’s basically a brick and I can’t even wear my ring. I don’t blame you, it’s not your fault, but I’m tired and I’m scared, I’m so scared all the time Eddie.” You’re struggling to breathe now, choking on sobs as it all comes out.

“Breathe with me baby, I’m right here. I know you’re scared but you gotta breathe, you’re scaring me angel.” You can hear commotion behind him, bags being zipped up. You take a few deep breaths, trying to get your breathing under control but it’s not working.

“ Sweetheart? Are you still there, answer me!” There’s panic in his voice and you manage to get a few deep breaths in and turn the camera back on you.

“I’m here, I’m okay baby, look don’t leave tour just yet, I’ll think of something, I’ll-”

“The only thing I want you to do is turn off your phone and get some rest. I’ll call you before soundcheck, okay?”

“Okay. I love you Eddie, no matter what.”

“I love you too baby, get some rest.”

You fire off a quick text to your mom and sister, letting them know you’re okay before turning your phone off.

Act Five: A stand.

You’re out of it most of the next day, alternating between sleeping and just laying on the couch with the tv on mute. You must have dozed off again because the next thing you feel is Eddie’s lips on your cheek and hand against your forehead.

“Eddie?” Your eyes fluttered open to see Eddie standing there.

“Hey gorgeous, I missed you.”  

“ But what about the tour?”

“You are more important than any tour baby.”

You all but jump into his arms, feeling safe for the first time in a long time. You’re so wrapped up in him you don’t notice at first that’s  he’s crying.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?”

“On the ride home, I looked up everything: the comments, the dms, the hate pages, that stupid fucking video. All this time, I thought my team was doing right by me, right by you, but they didn’t do shit. This has been going on since that picture leaked and I left you alone to deal with it. I promised to take care of you, to protect you from this shit, and I didn’t.”

“Eddie, it’s not your fault.”

“ Baby, you’ve been suffering, actually fucking suffering and when I looked into your eyes yesterday, I saw the possibility of losing you to this shit and it fucking terrified me.  So this stops, right here and right now.”

“Eddie, what are you doing?”

“What I should have done a long time ago.”

Eddie turns his phone on, slipping it onto the tripod and standing in front of it. 

“Hi everyone, it’s me. You’ve probably noticed by now I did not play the Barcelona show today and for that I am sorry. I am also sorry to announce that for me, The Cult of Vecna European Tour has come to an end. No, I have not left the band, there is no drama between any band members and myself, however there is something I need to share. 

For the past year and half, my fiancee and her family have become the target of harassment both online and in person. She was left unprotected, her torment swept under the rug in favor of boosting my image on the behalf of my as of right fucking now, former management.  If you’re a fan of Corroded Coffin, you know we talk about taking care of each other so how can I get on that fucking stage and say that shit when the love of my life is going through shit nobody should ever have to go through? “

Your phone is blowing up but you don’t take your eyes off Eddie.

“ If you love and respect the band, then you respect our boundaries.  Every night we promise you a safe show so in return, you will value our safety and the safety of those we care about or you can simply, get fucked. I know my real fans understand this but if you call yourself a fan of Corroded Coffin and engage in this bullshit, know that you mean nothing to me or the band.

I will be taking a break from music as of right now, please direct any questions to my lawyer Erica Sinclair who will be investigating the harassment of my wife but also the pending charges of fraud performed by my former management. Long story short: leave me and my girl the fuck alone. Eddie out.”

You’re crying so hard you feel Eddie pick you up before you see him, carrying you back to the couch, tightening his hold on you as you allow yourself to fully expel everything that’s been going on with you.

“I’m right here baby and I’m not going anywhere.” Eddie said softly before producing your engagement ring from his pocket and sliding it back on your finger.

Your name trends on Twitter but you don’t see it.

Your face is on the news but you don’t watch it.

It’s just you and him, no noise, just love.

And for right now, that’s enough.

[mochikeiji]

Sleepy

Request: "Hihi! Prompt no. 49 for inumaki toge pretty please? 🥰"

49. "Mine." "I know but can you let me go?"

↠ Pairing: Inumaki Toge x Reader

↠ Warning: none! Simply fluff, mention of Yuta!

↬ Word Count: 1k

↠ a/n: this is actually my first time writing about Inumaki and I gotta say, he fits the fluff content uwu

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event

"Tuna."

The used to be tamed, white ball of fluff— now wild upon waking up from his dream land. Inumaki wasn't really a morning person to begin with during his weekend breaks. Usually Panda would be the one to pull him out of bed alongside with Maki (and if Yuta were present, he'd be laughing from the back ground instead of helping the poor guy), luckily all second years were given some days to enjoy themselves and for once, they had agreed to postpone training since it was their routine even at breaks.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, the lad was practically jumping in glee yesterday as he tugs onto your shirt. Wiggling his brows in excitement to have you sleep with him longer without further interruptions from the two and his teacher. Much like every one except Maki, they've gone back to their respective homes during these times rather than being cramped up in the dorms. Too many prying eyes to witness all of your private moments anyways. Pretty much explains how you and Inumaki slept back in your apartment which was still surprisingly clean as you left it.

Being the nonchalant looking guy and being the quiet one, Inumaki was not far from resembling to a feline animal. His head kept on nuzzling against your chest deeper in plead and comfort when you stopped scratching his scalp. Whenever you'd do that you catch a faint sigh and the arms wrapped around you squeezing. The little languages you've learned that meant gratitude and a silent whisper of love.

If only you could just see the annoyed mark on his forehead as he listens to you and your long time friend and comrade, Yuta. It was a real shocker to have him call you so sudden. Thinking it may be serious, you didn't hesitate to answer only to have Yuta just asking how things were in a cheery tone. That had led to a longer conversation though. Long enough for Inumaki to groan and whine gradually louder in hopes you'd just return back to sleep with him.

Oh you're mistaken. Yuta knows exactly what he's doing to push his buttons off. The used to be timid male now bold enough to ruin his friend's routine. Credits to Panda for initiating the idea and Maki, not wanting to deal with any of this, walks away from the conversation.

"Was that Inumaki? Hey man!"

"Okaka.."

Scoffing, his hands slid underneath your shirt, placing them on your sides. You glared at him softly as a warning before continuing your talk with Yuta. "Yeah, he just woke up. Not a morning person remember?"

"I'll say. Wait, am I interrupting something?"

His head shot up, nodding profusely while lightly shaking your body. It tickled your sides to be honest, you thought he was just playing around when in fact he desperately wants you off the phone this instant.

"Ah, no! He's just tickling me." coughing out a giggle. "Stop that." you whispered, covering your phone to avoid Yuta from hearing. Inumaki then pouts in defeat. Gently thumping his head on your chest trying to find the comfort he's lost on his spot. Squirming in discomfort, Inumaki whines once more. It was literally only 7 am, he still needes much more sleep after having a late movie marathon with you last night. He can get cranky if he needed to just to get what he wants. It worked on Maki a lot though it does earn him a smack on the head.

"Well, I can hear the guy's getting worked up."

"You sly little boy. You knew exactly what you were starting, didn't you?" whispering against the phone with your hand cupped over your mouth. Making sure your boyfriend wasn't listening, Yuta simply laughs and bids his goodbye to continue on his tasks.

And finally— finally you put your phone away. Ready to receive the much needed affection, but soon confusion was written all over his face when you attempted to get up. "Tuna?"  peeping his eyes from below you. Asking why you were getting up. "It's morning, silly. We have to get up eventually you know." you say after giving him an eskimo kiss.

His brows visibly furrow as he tangles his legs with yours. He may not seem like it, but his arms are quite built enough to be able to hold you down. Inumaki was strong, and you know better than to underestimate or try the guy.

"Babe, aren't you hungry?"

"Okaka!"

He claims as he huddles himself close to you like a ball. He was at the verge of sleeping, why can't you read that? "Oh, poor thing. Alright, you sleep in while I go cook us up something for later, k?" still he doesn't budge from his position nor his hold wavering even as you pry him away. You bit back an adoring smile to see him like this. Maybe you should have Yuta annoy him again. You knew about his irritation whenever your friends would come around during your time alone. It was fun riling Inumaki up if it gets him clinging onto you.

"Okaka!"

"I know, i know, but can you let me go? I promise I'll be quick."

"No"

The room went silent. You didn't realize you were holding your breath and had already been squeezed tighter in his arms. That was the first time Inumaki spoke something out of his vocabulary. Much to your relief, nothing seemed to happened. Inumaki was still in the same status as he was now, even snickering a bit from your reaction before pushing his head up away from your chest to meet with your lips.

There were shivers that ran down your spine when his hand came up to rub you from behind. Coming to a stop on the back of your head to pull you in deeper. Though the kiss was short, his actions seemed to dawn on you more than he expected, seeing as you were speechless still.

"Mine."

He whispers lowly, you worry about the fact that he's said two things out of his language. It was a miracle nothing happened. And he wasn't coughing blood or something, no. He remains the same as ever, feeling ever so at bliss before closing his eyes at the feeling of your fingertips running through his hair soothingly. "I have got to tell Yuta about this." giggling madly at how flustered and light your heart was, you were only met with light snores before slowly closing your eyes in the arms of your sleeping lover.

Oh well, breakfast can wait.

© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)

[iwadori]

are you going to do a 'when the haikyuu boys make you insecure' part with Iwaizumi / could I request that?

When they make you insecure part 6 (Iwaizumi,Matsukawa)

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5 Part 6

Word Count: 2.8K

Genre: Angst, Fluff

masterlist

AN: Did I embedd myself in this story? Yes, yes i did. :3 (it’s only a small part dw loool)

Iwaizumi

One day when you were walking to the gym to go see your boyfriend  

You overhear him and the team talking about some instagram girl

“She’s hot” you hear Boktuo yell doing a hoot as he fawns over a picture, with the rest of the guys agreeing.  

“What do you think Iwaizumi?” Hinata ask  

“She’s cute... I guess?” the rest of the guys, grunt in disagreement at Iwa’s lack of drooling over the girl.

“Well I see why you wouldn’t want her Haji-kun,” says Atsumu “you are into the more simple girls bro”

“Simple?” Iwaizumi questions, and the rest of the guys agree

“Yeah simple, you know Y/N... she’s simple” says one of the guys, with the word ‘simple’ rolling off their tounge with a tone of disgust.

“I guess your right guys...” Iwaizumi says “Y/N is pretty basic and simple but-”

You leave the gym before you hear what the rest of them had to say. When you got to your house you bolt straight to the mirror, you look at your outfit and frown. You never thought your style was ‘basic,’ to be fair you wouldn’t describe anybodys style as basic or simple. Of course, you weren’t like those instagram influencers, that wasn’t your thing. But Iwa has known that about you for years... but I guess that’s not what he truly likes.

You go to your closet and take out all the contents, just tossing all your clothes (even some of your favourite items ever) and dashing them in a black trash bag putting them to the side. You were already on a mission to buy a whole new wardrobe, going through all different stores and looking on pinterest for inspo.

You didn’t really talk to Iwa for the rest of the week, since you wanted him to see you in your ‘new form,’ you weren’t being radiosilent but you didn’t initiate any hang outs with him or face time calls (which he did find slightly odd, but didn’t think that much by it.)

Finally, the clothes came and you were kind of shocked at how much you ordered you spent over £200 on clothes from all different places. When you were trying them on, you liked some of them the ones that were kind of similar to your past style but not so ‘simple,’ the others you kind of frowned at since it definitely didn’t feel like ‘you’ at all. ‘This is for Iwa,’ you reminded yourself as your forced a smile on your face analysing yourself in the mirror.

You had everything sorted, your wardrobe was now changed and done the colours and styles you once wore before is now the complete opposite. You invited Iwa over, hesistantly waiting to see how would he react.  

When you hear your door knock, you rush over to open it and model a pose you saw one of those girl do trying to look as natural as possible.

“Hey babe ho-” he says, with his eyes widening seeing your new look “Woah Y/N!”

“Hey Haji..come in!” you exclaim with a beaming smile pulling him inside to the couch. “So, are we going to continue watching the crown, I watched the previous episode and god prince phillip is such a dick.”

You look over your shoulder and see Iwa still standing in your entranceway a bit awkwardly, looking a bit stunned. “Come sit down then, we’ve got an episode to watch.”

“uh oh yeah, sure” he says blinking, following you to the couch.

You got through atleast 4 episodes together, you barely talked as you were really engrossed in the show. Iwa was barely paying attention, he was too busy questioning how you were acting. This definitely wasn’t the girl he knew, even the way you were acting whilst watch the show was odd. The way you’d cutely giggle and ‘sublty’ look over to him whilst laughing at a funny part of the show instead of just doing your usual obnoxious laugh that he loved to hear.

“Oh Y/N, I’m going to go to the bathroom.” he says standing up, you don’t reply you just wave your hand in acknowledgement.

On his way to the bathroom, Iwa nearly trips on a black bag left outside your bedroom door. He opens it, and mildly gasped when he saw all your old stuff jumbled up in there. He picks up the back and goes straight back to the living room and stands in front of you.

“Haji, what are you doing you’re blocking the TV” you complaining trying to see what’s happening behind him.

He drops the black bag infront of you and you internally curse yourself for not moving. You stare at him waiting for him to say something.

“Well whats this then.” he says looking down at you, almost like a disapproving dad.

“Clothes.” you say smartly, knowing what he was asking.

“You know what I meant Y/N, why are all your clothes in a garbage bag.”  

“Because I wanted to put them there,” you wanted to seem as nochalant about it as possible as if putting all your clothes in a garbage bag doesn’t make you feel sad.

“Yeah but why?” he says sitting down next to you.

“Just because I wanted to” you reiterate “what else do you want me to say?”

“Well this isn’t like you, its just a bit random Y/N” he says

“I know this isnt like me you” you spat, standing up “Isn’t this what you wanted anyways.” You head to your bedroom picking up the bag with you, with Iwa hot on your heels.

“What do you mean this is what I wanted?” he says in disbelief “When did I ever say that?”

“It doesn’t matter” you mumble, you start to aggressively take our your old clothes and shove them back into your wardrobe whilst Iwa is just talking. You’re not really listening to him your just putting the clothes back.

“Y/N Stop!” he yells kind of knocking you out of your ‘trance,’ “what is going on with you?” he grabs you hands and pulls them down stopping you from what you were doing and he winced at seeing your tear stricken face.

He gently pulls you into his arms sitting you both on your bed, waiting for you to speak. “I don’t know what you want from me Iwa..” you start your voice slightly breaking “it’s just I did this all for you and you don’t even appreciate it.”

“I don’t know what you mean Y/N?” he says sounding genuinely confused.

“Y/N is simple and basic.” you say repeating words that you heard your boyfriend say about you, you feel him tense as you say it and you slowly get out of his hug.

“Y/N I-”

“That really hurt Hajime, I know now that I'm not your ‘type’ but I-”

“No Y/N, you are my type of course you are!” he says gulping in nervousness “I love you, and your style. I’ve always being enamored by how you dress and present yourself and I don’t know why I even said you’re basic and simple I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Really?” you say sniffling looking down

“Yes really you idiot,” he says lifting your head up “To be fair I don’t care what you wear, since you look great in anthing I just want you to be happy Y/N and especially not dress for anyone including me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree slightly nodding your head.

“Good, so can we go and finish the crown and then burn all these clothes?” Iwa jokes as he stands up.

“Burn them!” you exclaim “These cost £200, you muppet.”

“£200! Gosh Y/N, next time you go shopping im definitely coming with you.” he says shaking his head “can’t have you blowing out your bank account for clothes you don’t even like that much.”

You spend the rest of the day finishing of The Crown and you and Iwa eventually both sort out your wardrobe. Your style and aethetic changes a lot more through the times you were together and Iwa was very supportive and helpful of every single change. Especially *insert your favourite dress aesthetic here.*

Matsukawa

You were walking with your friends; Iwa, Tooru, Maki and your boyfriend Matsun. Walking to school as you did every morning, today the topic of conversation was Tooru’s bad taste in women.

“Gosh yesterday was horrible, she didn’t want to talk to me at all,” he complained “all she wanted to do was to come straight to my place, I didn’t even have the chance to tell her my hair routine.”

“That’s why you don’t find dates off of Tinder shittykawa” grunted Iwaizumi

“Well I know that now!” he exclaimed.

“Y/N,” said Makki grasping your attention “Would you ever use Tinder?”

“Well I-”

“Of course she wouldn’t” your boyfriend interrupted wrapping his arm round your shoulder “she’s got me”

“Yeah, but if you two weren’t together, would you use it.”

“Well may-”  

“Y/N definitely wouldn’t” he said interrupting you AGAIN “she’s way to frigid for that shit”

Frigid? You thought to yourself, ouch. Their was a quick awkward silence and all you could hear was Matsukawa laughing with the others laughing after awkwardly in pursuit. After sensing your uncomfortability (is that a word?) Oikawa decides to change the subject to make things less awkward,

“I need a woman who understands me!” he rants “One that can listen to me and appreciate my awesome hair.”

“Goodluck with that Shittykawa.”  

Oikawa rambles on as you walk to school with the other guys chiming in. You on the other hand, were lost in thought. Your sex life wasn’t something you would want to publicly talk about let alone to you and your boyfriends' male friends. Also, with Matsun describing you as ‘frigid’ struck a nerve. You weren’t frigid, well at least to you, you weren’t.  

When you got to school you immediately rushed straight to your lesson claiming that you teacher really needed to talk to you. Which was odd to Matsukawa as you usually all hung around each other until the bell rang, the other boys gave each other knowing looks all assuming the reasons for your odd behaviour.

At lunch time, you stayed in your class instead of going up to the roof where you and your friends usually end up. In the class room you hear one of the girls in your class, Empress having one of her usual gossip conversations with her group of friends.

“Hajime is so hot!” she said, fanning her face being dramatic  

“Of course he is! You should totally go for him.” her friend said and the rest of the friends agreed.

“What do you think Y/N?” she says to you catching your attention “you’re close friends with him right?”

“Yeah, I am” you say a bit sadly “You should definitely go for him, I think you’d be perfect together.”

“Okay! I think I might later” she says smiling. Her and friends leave, but then Empress returns and walks straight to you.

“Are you alright doll?” she asks softly smiling

“I guess so..” you say hesitantly “It’s just something my boyfriend said to me this morning.”

“Matsun?” she asks and you nod in reply “What did he say?”

After you rehash the situation from this morning Empress scowls in annoyance, “Boys can be such pigs sometimes, such a dick thing to say.”

“I know right!” you respond “Even if I was frigid, which im totally not it’s not even a bad thing nor is it something to reveal to people in public in a ‘jokey’ way.”

“Yeah!” she agrees “I think you should go and give him a piece of your mind.”

“I mean...” your voice falters, when it comes to Matsun you’ve never really given him a ‘piece of your mind,’ even when he makes jokes that you’re not so fond of.

“Come on!” she encourages “I’ll come with you and cheer you on.”

“You just want to come to see Iwa Empress” you say pointedly “But fine let’s go.”

You both power walk to the roof where you see the four seijoh boys sitting down and eating. “Oh hi Y/N/-chan and look Iwa its Emp-chan... isn’t that a surprise!” Iwa blushes and the rest of the guys laugh.

You walk straight up to Matsun and stand right infront of him. “Matsukawa I need to talk to you,” you say folding your arms. “Why whats up babe?” he says, still sitting down with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Alone.” you say turning around walking to a secluded spot. Behind you, you hear Matsun get up and the rest of the boys saying “oooh Matsukawa your in trouble” as they laugh.

“What’s wrong with you today Y/N?” he asks slightly accusatorily.  

“I didn’t appreciate the comment you made today on the way to school,” you say with your arms folded.

“Oh that little comment about you being frigid, come on it was just a joke I wasn’t being serious.” he says lightly laughing but he stops once he sees the glare you give him ”you knew it was a joke right?”

“Matsun, some are your jokes just aren’t funny,” you say “especially when they're about me and our sex life in front of our friends too.”

“Y/N I didn’t mea-”

“You just come off as a huge dick sometimes, and I can’t do this anymore if you keep on making these comments anymore I don’t think I can do this.”

“Woah Y/N, are you threatening to break up with me?” he asks “Over a few little comments?”

“These aren’t a few little comments, sometimes what you say is just unnecessary and rude.”

“Okay well...”

“Well...” you repeat staring at him waiting for to apologise or atleast say something, “fuck you Matsukawa.”

You storm away and walk bout to the group saying “Empress lets go.” She jumps of Iwa’s lap and waves by to them following you back down to the school. You walk into the bathroom and just start to cry, “Y/N whats wrong?” Empress says pulling you into a hug  

“H-He doesn’t care,” you cry “He pretty much excused his stupid comments, passing them off as little ‘jokes,’ that didn’t apparently mean anything.”

“Oh dear,” Empress says consoling you “he’s not worth your time right now.”

“B-but but I love him.” you wail fat tears streaming down your face.

“I know sweetheart, I know,” she says letting go of the hug “so what do you wanna do about him?”

“I don’t know,” you say “I don’t want to break up with him or anything, but is there a point in staying if he’s just going to make these comments again.”

“I don’t know Y/N, but whatever you wanna do I’ll support. Wether it’s keying his car or reading shitty fanfiction and crying.” Empress says making you laugh.

The final bell rings and now it's time to go home, of course you don’t walk with the guys so you just enjoy your own company walking home.

“Y/N! Y/N!” you hear from behind you and of course the only person it can be is Matsukawa.

“What do you want?” you mumbled  

“I..I want too” he says heaving out of breath from the running he had to do “I want to apologise. I need do.”

“Okay...” you respond

“Im sorry, Im so so sorry,” he says “those jokes and comments were stupid and I agree I can be a dick sometimes. Well a lot of the time, but I never wanted to be a dick to you.”

“Well you were.”

“I know I was, and I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse what I said and what I have said before I just hope I can make it up to you.”

“Okay then.”

“So are we not broken up?”

“No we’re not broken up, but it’ll take a lot of making up to do for me to fully forgive you.”

“Great! And I'll spend every day to get you to forgive me.”

Which he did, he spent every day showering you with love and affection. He was way better than he was before, you even went on double dates with Oikawa and his flavour of the week and triple dates with Iwa and his girlfriend. Matsukawa, although he still made jokes, he never targeted them and centered them around you in an insulting way.

AN: I didn’t really like the matsukawa one since i couldn’t really write for him properyl sooo sorry bout that one kids.

[getosuguruswife]

Getou x F!Reader

genre : angst 

summary : you decide to leave your boyfriend as you realize he isn’t ready for a relationship.

chapter tags : infidelity, brief mention of sex, mental issues (not specific tho) and drinking problems?

writer’s note : it is the first time i write something in a while, + English is not my first language, so please bare with me guys (’: (I finished this story pretty quickly, as I didn’t know how to end it, I wrote it because it spoke to me on a personal level, I also made a playlist for it too!) https://open.spotify.com/playlist/002dbNvnh9412iFu23nBpc?si=fcbbac695fc4457d

Love wasn't something you were very familiar with. Of course you had some flings here and there, but they never reached the level of feelings you had for Getou Suguru. The man was tall, strong and handsome. So intelligent and sensitive, just drastically different from all the boys you met before. He was a man. However, you are grown enough to know that love isn’t all, if it was, much less people would break up or divorce. What does it mean to love someone if you don’t respect them, listen to them, or if you make them feel lonely? You putted up with a lot of Getou’s shenanigans, from him staying out late at night, partying with his friends, him entertaining the women that threw themselves at him, or just making you feel like you’re second in his life. Of course, you didn’t mind not being his first priority, if his first priority was his career or his family, but if it was the losers he called his friends, or partying with bitches, then it was a problem. 

The thing is Suguru loved you, wholeheartedly. He never felt that way with anyone before you, and he really was grateful for your existence, he just didn’t know how to show it to you. You were vibrant and funny, so sensitive and open to your feelings. It was okay for you cry, pour your heart out to him, and show him how much he meant to you. He tried to do the same, he really did, but how can you let your guard down this quickly when you have been used to closing your heart all your life? There was something comforting about not letting you see how he truly feels, even if you proved him a thousand times he could trust you.

It is a cold Sunday morning. The sky is grey, rain drops are hitting the windows of your empty room. Last night, you have been by yourself, like always. Although it is a routine for you, this time feels different. Getou left the house at 6 p.m yesterday, claiming to have an errand to run with Gojo, it is 8 a.m and you still haven’t heard from him. Tears are drooling down your face, you can’t even see your hands tossing your clothes in your suitcase. You’re so angry, frustrated and sad, all at the same time. What haven’t you done for this man? You have always been supportive of him, always let him do whatever he wanted, shown him unconditional love, even when he didn’t deserve it, so why do you have to go through all of this? Why does he keep treating you like a stranger? You run from a room to another, trying to leave before he can come back and dissuade you to go. You’re not even showered yet, all you think about is escaping from that golden prison. You don’t feel loved anyway, so you don’t think you will be missed, you care about him enough to let him be.

Getou wasn’t that too fond of clubs. Nothing about loud music, or drinking until passing out excited him, but it was a good way for him to forget all of his problems for a while. His friends unlike him always seemed to have the time of their lives, dancing and tongue-kissing women they had just met, he was the only one sitting and doing nothing but drinking, or playing with his phone. Sometimes, he would fuck girls in the bathrooms out of pure boredom. None of them could even come close to you and he knew that, but that’s how he is : he can’t deal with intimacy, he would rather for you to think he didn’t feel anything than open his heart and handle situations. He knew you were way too good for him, so he always seemed to do everything to make you leave, and his guilt grew wider as you stayed. The love and patience you had for him tortured his mind way too much, but he couldn’t come to terms with breaking up with you, deep down in his soul, he knew.

You’re the only thing on his mind when he comes back home. He knows he is not going to get away with staying out all night, and is already prepping some apologies in his mind while taking his shoes off. After throwing them in a corner of the entry, he starts tip-toeing slowly towards your room, trying not to make the wood cracks under his feet. The house is cold, but he is not ready for how colder things will turn in a second.

You lift your bags out of the bed, ready to turn around and face him, ready to live the most heartbreaking thing you have ever experienced in a while, and when you see him, it’s like your heart is falling at your feet. He stands there, watching you with confusion, but still low-key understanding the situation, as you can see by the way he breathes. You are both looking at each other, in the upmost silence. He is so beautiful.. You think, with his pitch black hair laying on both sides of his neck, his basic white tee-shirt stretched out by his muscles, and his angel-like features. For a second, you almost want to drop everything and go back to him, enjoy his presence, but you can’t. Nothing will ever change, he is not ready to love. 

“I’m leaving.” You are the one breaking the silence first, voice trembling from the ugly cry you’re about to throw. “How much pain a human can take Sugu? I can’t do it no more, I’m sorry”. When your words hits him, he doesn’t even react. He stares at you, almost like he can’t believe it, like he is waiting for a nightmare to end. At the same time, he doesn’t really know what to say? He did everything to push you out the door, how hypocritical it would be of him to try to make you stay, none of his issues are solved, and nothing will change for now.You’re searching for his eyes, waiting, hoping, praying, he would say something to make you feel wanted, but he says nothing like that, he says nothing at all.

“I don’t want you to answer me, I don’t think there’s much to say anyway, let me just leave please.” You cry again, although you tried your best not to. Getou looks at you, and you can see he is in pain too, but he could never blame you for realizing your worth, he knew this time was coming anyway, and he feels like it’s the best decision. “I love you, I’m so sorry.” He whispers, which interrupts your tears for a minute. “You deserve so much more than what I gave you, I know I was a shitty boyfriend, I did you so wrong baby, I’m so sorry.”  Something in you wants to take him in your arms, reassure him and tell him that it’s okay, that he was a hundred percent worthy of your love, but it would be a lie, a million reasons you know and don’t know that justify why he isn’t. You can’t be the one apologizing anytime he fucks up. “I’m sorry too.”

[myherowritings]

PART 2. LOVE IS FAKE, MARRY A WEALTHY SUITOR

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.5k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. thank u guys for all the positive feedback on this series so far and i really hope u enjoy this chapter too ! ^-^ xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

It seemed your subtle pleas to the gods to see the mysterious businessman again had been answered, since only the day after Shouto gave you a $100 tip, you saw him at the cafe. 

You looked to the skies with a hint of suspicion. This seemed too easy— You were expecting at least a few weeks of your heart pining as you wondered where-oh-where your dreamy customer could have gone. But instead, after a mere 24 hours later, you saw him enter the store in a pair of pressed trousers and a light blue, button up shirt that was rolled just below his elbows. 

Blinking, you drew your attention away from his exposed forearms. You knew he was attractive from your first encounter, but was he always this hot? 

Sadly, you couldn’t focus too much on that since he had to get behind the line and obstruct himself from your view, and you had to take the order of the next customer. 

“Hi! I can take the next person in line.” You smiled. “Good morning! What can I get started for you today?”

After repeating that five or so more times and starting a few drinks on hot bar, you finally reached Shouto’s place and, thankfully, there didn’t seem to be too many patrons piling behind him. 

“Good morning, Shouto!” you greeted when he stepped forward to the counter. “How are you this morning?”

“Better now that I saw you.” 

Your smile faltered as your cheeks heated up, but you tried to brush it off with a laugh. While Shouto had the definite looks of a so-called businessman playboy, his words held none of the flirtatious intonation as one might expect. In fact, he sounded like he genuinely meant it— Like he was only stating a simple fact and had no reason to be shameful. 

It felt both like an attack on your heart and like a refreshing glass of water at the same time. 

“How about you?” he continued. 

“I could say the same thing,” you said with a chuckle, but you found yourself meaning everything you told him. Though you didn’t expect to see him again at the cafe so soon, you couldn’t deny the instant he walked through the doors, your morning felt just a little bit brighter. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, but this is a pleasant surprise.” 

Shouto had the decency to look a little bashful as he averted his gaze slightly. “Yeah. I…really liked the...cheese danishes.” 

Surprised, a small giggle left your lips. “Don’t tell me you finished all three dozen of them!”

“Well…” He looked even more sheepish. “I didn’t exactly… I guess you could say that.” 

“I’m glad you liked them so much you came back for more,” you teased, looking down at the pastries from the oven you just stocked. “Sadly, our fresh pastry today is a chocolate croissant. I can tell my manager to have cheese danishes made again soon though!”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll try the chocolate croissants today then. Maybe five dozen this time.” 

Five multiplied by twelve… A whole 60 chocolate croissants? Were they all for him? You shrugged, not one to judge. If someone wanted to eat 60 croissants, so be it. Though you did hope he wouldn’t eat it all in one sitting. That might give him a stomachache. 

“Alrighty, five dozen chocolate croissants,” you repeated as you typed it into the register. “And would you like any beverages with that? Another flat white maybe?” 

“Actually, I’ll have a large macchiato with two extra shots of espresso this time.” 

You nodded with a hum. “Long day ahead?” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“I hope the coffee and croissants can carry you through, Shouto!” you said, wishing his day would go by smoothly. “Will that be all for you today?”

“Thank you, Y/N. I hope so too. And yes, that’s it.”

“Great. $73.24 is your total then! Will you be paying in card again?” 

He nodded. 

“Go ahead and scan and sign when you’re ready.”

You busied yourself by writing his name and order on a large cup and starting the espresso pulls. Your manager was helping get the pastries and other orders ready this morning, so it was nowhere near as hectic as yesterday. 

“Your order will be to your right. It was nice seeing you again, Shouto.” You smiled, giving him a small wave and already wishing you could hold the line up to talk to him longer. “See you tomorrow morning?” you asked almost hesitantly.

He returned your smile with upturned lips of his own. “Yeah. Tomorrow.” Before he left the counter, he pulled out another $100 bill—did he go to a dry cleaners to have his cash steamed and ironed? It was almost ridiculously crisp—and handed it to you. “A tip to show my appreciation for your service.”

“A-Again?” you stammered, eyes wide. That was $200 in two days from just his tip alone. That was more than you made in two weeks when you worked part-time! “Are you sure?”

Whether he had money to spare or not, this was incredibly generous of him and you would never have expected this amount from anyone. And it wasn’t like Shouto made it a scene for everyone in the shop to look at and gawk; he was subtle yet unashamed. Like he wanted to do it for no other reason than to do it. 

“Of course. You deserve it for your work, Y/N.”

The customer behind him made an impatient noise and you winced. You wanted to be able to thank him more, but all you had time for was a simple, “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

Shouto nodded in response before walking to the other side of the cafe to wait for his order while you managed the other customers in line, a fuzzy but warm feeling lingering in your stomach from your bizarre interaction. Money or not, you enjoyed seeing him in the mornings and were already looking forward to your brief conversations that would take place the next days to come.

He certainly gave you something to look forward to amidst the inconsiderate customers who barely saw you as human every morning. Sometimes, that was all you could ask for. 

When Shouto left the store and the line had died down towards the end of rush hour, your manager approached you with a curious look on her face. 

“That guy named Shouto…?” Miyazaki said. 

You nodded. 

“A friend of yours?”

“You could say that… We just met yesterday’s morning shift,” you said as you finished up the green tea latte for one of the remaining stragglers from the last hour’s boom. “But he’s really friendly I think.”

“You only recently became associated?” she asked, lifting a brow. “It seemed like you two were quite chummy today.” Then, nudged your side. “He was rather attractive don’t you think? And rich-looking.”

Fumbling with the lid on the beverage, you stifled a surprised cough. Sure, you got along with your boss and thought she was one of the more understanding and kind individuals you have worked under, but gossiping about the looks and potential income of a customer with your 56-year-old manager was not on your bingo sheet as a worker here.

“I…” You called out the order for the latte before turning back to your manager. “He is.”

“Ooh, he’s rich?”

“I meant he’s attractive!” you sputtered, feeling abashed at her blunt words. You thought of the tip he gave you in your pocket and his orders of dozens of pastries. “Rich…maybe so. Not that it matters!” 

Miyazaki tsked. “Of course it matters! Marry rich and your life will be easier. That’s what my mother told me and what her mother told her.” She shook her head. “Should’ve listened.” 

You laughed, feeling only a little awkward. It wasn’t the first time you heard that sentiment from someone older than you. It wasn’t uncommon for family members or even workers you were close to to share that same advice—if you could even call it that.

While you agreed money could make a lot of things easier, marrying someone for wealth didn’t appeal to you. But you recognized that even that may come from a place of privilege to be able to say. 

“He seems like a wealthy suitor for you, yes?”

“Suitor—?” you choked out. “No! I mean— We just met! We don’t know anything about each other really.”

She sighed, “Young people and their obsession with marrying someone they ‘know’ for true love. When do you really know someone anyway?” Waving a hand she changed the topic. “But enough of that. What I wanted to say was next time that man comes in here, we can offer him a complimentary box of a dozen pastries— Since he’s spent so much in so little it feels like the right thing to do.”

“Sure. A complimentary dozen.” Finally. Work. A topic you felt much more comfortable talking about. “That, I can do.” 

“And then maybe offer a hand in marriage while you’re at it.”

“Mrs. Miyazaki!” you gasped, feeling only mildly affronted. 

“I joke.” She ruffled her hair and smoothed down her apron. “I’m going to make more pastries now. Can you hold up the front?” 

“You can count on me.”

“I know I can. Thanks for your hard work!” 

And with that, she headed to the backroom where the kitchen was to leave you alone with your thoughts in a quiet cafe. Rush hour ended so there were only a few customers trickling in, most much kinder and more pleasant to talk to than the bustling businessmen of the earlier shift. 

Throughout your small conversations with the patrons, you found yourself thinking back to two things— One, how interesting traditional values and teachings in collectivist cultures were and questioning where you fell into place with them, and two…wondering about Shouto. 

Tomorrow, he had said before he left. You’d see him again tomorrow. 

Oddly enough, you were looking forward to it more than you’d like to admit. 

— ✩ —

It was the fifth day of the week, the fifth time he had seen you at the cafe, and he was already tempted to see you again. Would it be invasive to get another pastry after work? Would you even be there working at that hour?

Shouto saw you this morning (along with all the other mornings before that) and yet he couldn’t quell the pull he felt towards you with only the short interaction time you had together. But he would take what he could get without being weird. 

He had been told in the past he could be too forward and dysregulate his feelings and scare people off, and that wasn’t something he wanted to risk with you, though he was certainly much better at it now with learning and practice. If he was reading things correctly, you at least seemed to enjoy seeing him during your shift. 

“You got more pastries, sir?” an employee from the medical supplies sector asked him gleefully. “I swear they get better each time!”

Shouto nodded with a smile. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll be sure to relay your compliment.”

With the dozens of pastries he’s been ordering from your cafe (each order seeming to grow every time he visited after realizing just how much his employees enjoyed it), he would place them around the breakrooms and staff kitchens in the establishment. Those areas were always fully stocked with drinks and sandwiches and chocolates in case anyone needed a little boost, but nothing seemed to bring as much comfort as freshly baked pastries did. And a different baked good almost everyday seemed to give people more to get excited about. 

He owed it all to your sales’ pitch and blinding smile that made him want to buy it. And your personality, of course.

His Personal Secretary had started to wonder why she no longer was tasked with his early morning coffee runs, and Shouto had to find a way to answer without saying it was because there was a barista he wanted to keep talking to. 

Not even he was that shameless. 

The first time, his PS had just called in sick and Shouto decided he might as well head to a cafe himself for the first time in a while. He worried he might have been rusty while ordering, but you did such a good job at being welcoming and guiding the transaction that he found himself actually enjoying it. (Enjoying you, maybe. But it was too soon to admit that.) 

And now, after that initial meeting, he decided it was worth half an hour of his day to give his PS some early morning break time and visit the cafe himself. 

It was worth it so much, in fact, that the next morning on a Saturday, despite most of his employees being given the weekend off, he still went to buy some coffee and pastries. 

“Good morning!” an older lady called as he entered the front doors. Shouto had seen her assisting in shifts and baking pastries when you were busy working the cash register. “What can I get started for you today?”

He looked around the store—relatively quiet compared to the rush hour during the weekdays—and to his disappointment, saw no sight of you. 

The current barista laughed, seeming to read his very thoughts. “Looking for someone? Y/N perhaps?”

His gaze shot up, feeling like a kid getting caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to by his guardian. Cautiously, he gave a small nod. 

“‘Fraid they have the weekends off, actually,” the lady—her name tag read Miyazaki—said. “But don’t look so down, they’ll be back on Monday morning to greet you with a smile.”

He nodded again, feeling his face heat up. Was he that transparent or did Miyazaki just know too much? “Thank you, ma’am.”

She chuckled, waving him over. “No need to be so formal. Now, is there anything I can get for you? Or were you just visiting in hopes of asking our dear Y/N out?”

“No— I…” Shouto felt himself averting his gaze. “I’ll order something.”

At his apparent discomfort, her mischievous gaze softened. “Of course, hon. Sorry for teasing too much. I was just excited seeing how adorable you and Y/N were.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, that’s not my business. Anyway. What can I get started for you?”

He asked for a macchiato and a couple dozen of today’s pastries, paid, and tipped. (Though, it was initially met with a blatant rejection. He didn’t take it too hard; he knew some older members of society thought of tips as insulting and he’d never force anyone to take a tip if it made them feel bad. But after offering again, she thankfully accepted it.)

When he left the cafe, although the exchange was pleasant enough, Shouto still found himself disappointed he wasn’t able to see you. 

At least he had something to look forward to next Monday morning, though part of him wished the day would somehow come sooner. 

a/n: hope u enjoyed miyazaki’s words of wisdom u.u FHKDF i’m totally kidding, but if ur asian like me then u kNOW what convos like that are like omg ,, just had my mom and two grandmas tell me that recently :’/ kskskfd but anyway i hope u enjoyed this chapter and liked seeing a glimpse of shouto’s thoughts ;3 tysm for reading!

what to expect in the next part:

more shouto and y/n :>

maybe some ~flirting~ pfft idk idk u.u

some minor...misunderstandings 

“hello, zuko here” vibes

[casuallyimagining]

Darkest Day

Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Yoongi doesn't like pokemon, doesn't want one, doesn't care to be around them. What happens when he finds an abandoned pokemon during one of the hardest weeks of his year? Can you help him through it? Genre: Pokemon Trainer AU, fluff, angst Word Count: 8,549 Rating: T Warnings: None

Notes: This is for The BTS Writers' Club October prompt, Spooky.

Thanks to @eatjeanjin and @moon-write for reading over this for me, to @aroseforyoongi for helping me plan this out literally months ago, and to @foxbroart for the crazy awesome banner.

You called it Yoongi’s Darkest Day, but it was more like a week.

He’d hide himself away from the world. He wouldn’t call. He wouldn’t text. If he left his house, it was always entirely alone. He’d made it clear a long time ago that he didn’t want you around for that week. He wanted to be alone, to go through it alone, to feel his feelings and process his emotions and come out of it on the other side alone.

And you hated it, but you understood. He knew you were there if he needed you. And part of you, every year, hoped he would call you, hoped that he would admit that going through it alone was unhealthy. You hoped he would finally let you be there for him in the way you knew he wanted but was too stubborn and hurt to recognize. But you never pushed. You let him hide away for as long as he needed.

You didn’t even really know what prompted the Darkest Day. You’d heard rumors. People talked about how anti-social Yoongi was, how he was rude, and cold, and stoic. They said that his disappearance every year was nefarious, or that it was him going off to be a part of some murder cult, or that he had some secret family somewhere far away. But you didn’t believe them. You knew Yoongi--the real Yoongi. You knew that he was just quiet and preferred to listen. You knew that he cared a lot, but that he had no patience for mean-spirited people. So you knew he had to have a good reason to disappear for a week at a time.

He just wasn’t ready to tell you. Maybe he’d never be ready to tell you. But you were determined to be there if and when he was ready to talk.

So it was startling when your phone rang two days into the Darkest Day. And yeah, you were a little nervous because what if something terrible had happened? But you answered your phone anyway, not expecting to be sneaking around the weird alley of the train station with him not even 20 minutes after his call.

But how could you say no to him? You’d been waiting for literal years for him to ask you for help, and here it was, unconventional though it may be.

Yoongi carried the paper bag of pokemon food he’d asked you to bring. You were confused, but you followed him anyway.

“What are we looking for?” you asked softly, following him closely down the alley.

The buildings were close together, the alley barely wide enough for four people to pass through comfortably. It was surprisingly dark in the alley, despite the fact that it was mid-afternoon and the sky was a clear blue. You didn’t like the feeling the alley gave you, so you stayed close to Yoongi.

He shushed you. “He should be around here somewhere.”

“Yoongi.” You stopped walking, annoyed, and grabbed his arm. “Who?”

He sighed, pushing his box-dyed grey hair off his forehead. He looked exhausted, and you could see an unknown emotion swirling in his eyes. “I was here yesterday and I saw this Gengar sitting outside on the steps by itself. I asked around, and the guy at the cafe across the street said that it used to come here with its trainer, but he said he hasn’t seen the trainer in weeks. I guess the Gengar keeps coming back to wait for its trainer.” Yoongi frowned. “It drifted over to the cafe this morning when I was over there. It looked hungry. But it got scared by a truck and floated off.”

You hummed. Weird. Normally, Yoongi hated pokemon. Hate was maybe a strong word for it, but he had a general dislike of them. He never tried to catch a pokemon of his own, and actively went out of his way to avoid the wild monsters that wandered through the city. He didn’t even like your Nickit, despite the fact that the fox pokemon was sweet, if not a little sassy.

So it was a little strange--okay, a lot strange--that he was going to such an effort to find this random, trainerless Gengar.

He took your hand as you continued to walk, your fingers loose in his grip. His eyes silently searched the alley for any signs of the abandoned Gengar--a too-dark shadow, unexplained movement, a trash can with eyes.

“Guess it’s not here,” Yoongi said after you’d searched the length of the alley twice. You couldn’t believe it, but he actually sounded sad.

“Maybe it went home.” You doubted your own words, but you were trying to stay positive for his sake.

“Maybe.” He sounded sad and dejected. He squeezed your fingertips lightly. You hadn’t realized that he was still holding your hand.

You took a few steps out of the alley, your free hand coming up to shield your eyes from the sudden sun, when you heard a hiss and a clatter from behind you. Yoongi spun around, his hand dropping yours. When you looked, it seemed as though the wall of the train station had some sort of bulge, a large shadow growing and emerging from the bricks.

Beside you, Yoongi scoffed. “There you are,” he chided. His tone was gentle, caring even. Who was this man and what had he done to your best friend?

Yoongi approached the shadow as it fully emerged, a large purple blob plopping unceremoniously onto the ground. It watched Yoongi, its sharp red eyes focused on his movements. But when Yoongi was within a foot of where it sat, the Gengar dissolved into the shadows on the pavement below.

Sighing, Yoongi sat on the ground, opening up the paper bag and pulling out the container of food you had brought. You weren’t sure if ghost types had a preference, but your Nickit liked it, so you figured it couldn’t be too bad. When he opened the container, Yoongi sniffed and almost gagged.

“Yum,” he said dryly, placing the food on the ground and cautiously sliding it toward the shadow on the pavement. “Here. Eat.”

Always so graceful with his words.

You sat beside him, trying not to think of how many people have thrown up in the alley. Yoongi shifted, his knee touching yours. Despite the calm front he was putting up, you could sense the tension in how he was sitting, how he held his shoulders, how he unconsciously chewed the skin on the side of his thumb. You reached over and gently tugged his hand away from his mouth, interlocking your fingers with his to prevent him from continuing to bite his cuticles.

Silence enveloped you as you sat there, waiting for the Gengar to come out of hiding again. Thankfully, you had no plans for the rest of the day, although if you did, you would have gladly cancelled them. Yoongi’s appearance worried you--the dark circles and disheveled hair and rumpled, baggy clothes--and though he was hyper-focused on the Gengar, you wanted to be there for him. So you sat there in complete silence, your thumb rubbing small circles into the soft skin of Yoongi’s hand.

You weren’t sure how long it took, but eventually, the shadow in front of you started to swirl and bulge, two dark spikes beginning to emerge from the ground. When the Gengar was fully emerged, it eyed the container of food warily.

“Go ahead,” Yoongi coaxed, gesturing to the food. He offered the pokemon a soft smile, his catlike eyes crinkling with the action.

The Gengar watched Yoongi carefully, its red eyes following every subtle movement. Now that it was sitting in front of you, fully emerged, you were able to really look at the pokemon. It was small--smaller than normal--and Yoongi was right. It was less round than a Gengar normally should be. You wondered if it had been eating at all since its trainer disappeared.

Finally, the pokemon reached forward, eyes never leaving you and Yoongi. But it grabbed a piece of the pokemon food out of the container, slowly bringing it up to its mouth. It watched you as it chewed, slowly but surely eating through the food you had brought.

For the rest of Yoongi’s Darkest Day and a few days after, it became part of your routine to meet Yoongi at the train station. You would bring a container of pokemon food--after the second day, you made it a point to actually buy something specifically for ghost and poison types--and you and Yoongi would walk around in an attempt to find the Gengar.

It took a few days of searching for it, but eventually, the Gengar would be sitting on the steps of the train station waiting for the two of you to show up. It would hide in the shadows of the steps, waiting and watching but still scared of the strangers hurrying about their days. But it would emerge as soon as it saw Yoongi, its red eyes following his movements almost exclusively. It didn’t seem to care that you were there. It trusted you enough to not hide from you, sure, but it seemed to latch onto Yoongi exclusively.

Perhaps it sensed your Nickit.

And it was very cute seeing how the Gengar looked at Yoongi like he was some sort of celebrity.

The days after the Darkest Day turned into weeks turned into a month, and you were still visiting the train station. And you had started to notice something interesting. When you left the station, after the pokemon had eaten and you’d spent some time with it, it would follow you and Yoongi. Not for long. A block or two at most. But the purple ghost would toddle along beside Yoongi, its short legs and round frame causing it to almost waddle. Then, when it got too far from the station, it would look back almost sadly, and it would stop.

“I wish there was a way to explain that its trainer wasn’t coming back,” Yoongi groaned, hiding his eyes in the crook of his elbow.

He was laying on the floor of your living room, a blanket stolen from the back of your couch balled up under his head as a pillow. His soaked t-shirt clung to him in odd places--parts of his sleeve stuck to his bicep, you could see the light definition of his abdomen through the fabric hugging his tummy. Outside, rain pattered against your window, the dark sky rolling with rumbles of thunder. Your apartment was closer to the train station. You had run when the deluge started, the fat, cold drops spurring you on faster. You hadn’t missed the sadness in the Gengar’s eyes when you left.

Apparently, neither had Yoongi.

You had your arms shoved in a hoodie--Yoongi’s hoodie--to stave off the chill of the outside. Curious and slightly amused, you watched him from your position on the couch. Your Nickit laid at your side, its broom-like tail curling around its body and covering its little nose as it napped. You stroked its soft fur gently, frowning slightly as Yoongi huffed. You knew he was still thinking about the Gengar and how hurt the shadow pokemon had looked when the two of you started to run away.

A clap of thunder shook the walls of your apartment, causing Yoongi to jump slightly. Seconds later, his phone rang, just once. A text message. He read it and swore.

“Jin says the power’s out in our building.”

“Stay here,” you told him softly.

He nodded once, and that was that. You hadn’t really expected an argument. This was nothing new. Yoongi stayed over often enough that he had clothes in a drawer in your dresser. You kept a stock of his favorite coffee brand because he complained when you offered him anything else. You even bought toothbrushes in packs of two. Not because it was economical--though it certainly was--but because Yoongi needed a way to keep up with personal hygiene, too.

You knew that none of this arrangement was normal for people who were only close friends, but you refused to let yourself consider the alternative. That would make it real, and you weren’t particularly ready to face the implications of any of it yet.

“You should adopt the Gengar,” he said suddenly. When you looked at him, he was staring at you. His dark eyes were intense, and you could see something in them--some kind of emotion--but you couldn’t tell what.

You laughed, the sudden noise jolting your Nickit awake. It scurried off the couch and away--probably to your bedroom. “That Gengar wants nothing to do with me.”

Yoongi scoffed. “It likes you.”

“It likes you.” You slid off the couch and onto the floor, scooting closer to him. He lifted his head from his blanket-pillow, adjusting how he was laying so he could plop his head against your thigh. “It likes me because it associates me with you.”

He hummed, but didn’t say anything. His brow furrowed and he frowned, refusing to look at you even as your hand found his hair, your fingers carding through the unnaturally ashen strands.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned softly, pushing his bangs off his forehead. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing. I know that face.”

“You know I don’t want to do the whole trainer thing.” Yoongi sighed, rubbing at his eyes in frustration. His long fingers dug into his eye sockets, and for a second, you were concerned that it was painful. But then he let one of his hands drop, his other rubbing down his face tiredly. “I can barely take care of myself half the time.”

“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”

He snorted derisively, rolling his eyes. “I disappear for a week every year because I get sad. Can’t really do that when something else relies on you.”

You frowned. You’d never been sure if the Darkest Day was intentional or not. You hadn’t wanted to ask him. It seemed too personal, and despite how close the two of you were, it seemed like a line that, once crossed, you couldn’t go back from. But knowing that he knew what he was doing--that his isolation was planned and purposeful--you hated to admit that it hurt a little bit. Yoongi was your best friend. You wanted him to feel like he could rely on you and trust you with the heavy stuff.

“It’s okay to be sad sometimes, Yoongi.” You kept your voice soft and gentle as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Everyone gets sad. It’s human.”

“Not like this.”

“What do you mean?”

For a while, Yoongi was silent. He sat up, scooting backwards so that his back rested against the couch, his knees tucked up close to his chest. You let him go, let him retreat into himself, let him stay quiet. You figured you had waited for him to come to you during the Darkest Day, you could wait for him to want to talk to you.

He didn’t say much for the rest of the night. You fell asleep with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, like you were standing on some sort of precipice, unsure of whether to back off or take the leap.

Something woke you up. You weren’t sure what it was. Maybe it was the rain that was still pelting against the window. Or maybe a sudden flash of lightning. Or maybe it was Yoongi shifting beside you. He was curled up in front of you, one hand tucked between his knees. You had wrapped yourself around him in your sleep, your body curled close to his, your arms encircling his waist. The hand that wasn’t tucked between his knees clutched your hand, his fingers laced loosely with yours.

He shifted again, and you heard him inhale shakily. You could feel him trembling slightly and you pressed ever closer, moulding yourself against him in hopes that, if he was cold--Yoongi was almost always a little cold--the extra body heat would help. But he continued to shiver and after a second of silence, he let go of your hand to wipe at his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned, unsure if he could hear you over the rain.

Yoongi shook his head and you hummed, pressing your cheek against his shoulder blade.

You laid there for a while, listening to him breathe and feeling his body move with each breath. You sighed. “I know you know this,” you told him quietly, half-mumbling into his t-shirt. “At least, I hope you know this. But I’m here for you. Whatever it is, I’ll listen.”

His hand found yours again, and he squeezed your fingers in acknowledgement.

Silence fell upon you again, even the thunder dying down to just leave the rain pattering against your window. For a moment, you thought Yoongi had fallen asleep, but his breathing wasn’t even enough, wasn’t shallow enough. So you laid there quietly, mentally luxuriating in the softness of his shirt against your cheek but refusing to go back to sleep before you knew he was okay.

Yoongi took a deep breath. “When I was a kid, my parents both had pokemon.”

You knew that. You’d met both of Yoongi’s parents. His dad’s Crobat was surprisingly kind, and his mother’s Swellow had the softest feathers you’d ever seen. You had always wondered how Yoongi could have grown up surrounded by pokemon and not come out of it with a love of the creatures.

“They got me a Litten for my eighth birthday.”

He readjusted then, rolling onto his back so that he could stare up at the ceiling. You gave him a bit of space, one of your arms coming up to support your head so that you could look at him properly. Yoongi kept a hold on your other hand, clinging to you loosely. You let him rest your joined hands against his stomach.

“I loved that cat,” he said softly, his thumb absently rubbing against your hand. “Back then, I had no idea what was wrong with it. I just knew that it couldn’t use its fire moves and that it had trouble walking. Mom and Dad said it was sick, but I didn’t care. I’d come home from school every day and I’d play with it and carry it around the neighborhood on walks. But it just kept getting sicker and sicker.”

He cleared his throat, rubbing at his eye with his free hand. You waited silently, patiently, giving him time to collect himself. Yoongi was in touch with his emotions more than most, but that didn’t mean he particularly enjoyed crying.

“When I got older, I did some research.” His dark eyes met yours briefly before darting to the side toward the window. “Hip dysplasia, respiratory issues, epilepsy, and heart disease. It never stood a chance.” Yoongi sighed, loosening his grip on your hand so that he could play with your fingers. You could see the tracks of his tears in the low light of your bedroom. “When Litten died, I had barely turned nine. I was devastated.”

The Darkest Day. Every year, like clockwork, the Darkest Day happened seven weeks after Yoongi’s birthday.

He swallowed thickly before continuing. “They got it at a breeder mill. They never said it, but how else does a pokemon get all those problems? Either poor Litten lost the genetic lottery purely by chance, or the jackass breeder didn’t know what the hell they were doing.” The shadows on Yoongi’s brow darkened when he frowned, and you could sense more than see the tension in his jaw. “Either way, Litten didn’t deserve it. My parents tried to get me a new pokemon a few months after... “ His voice caught slightly and he cleared his throat again. “A Poochyena. But I couldn’t bring myself to love it. It hurt too much.”

“I’m so sorry.” You pushed his hair off his forehead gently.

“It’s....” He shrugged, dark eyes finally meeting yours. “It’ll just never be the same, you know? I don’t want to replace Litten. It wasn’t his fault he…”

He trailed off and silence enveloped you once again. You stroked his hair once more before going back to leaning on your hand, watching him. His eyes slid closed and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Outside, the rain was finally beginning to die down.

“You wouldn’t be replacing him,” you told him softly, testing the waters. “You can still love Litten and care about another pokemon. Of course they won’t compare. But I think that’s a good thing.”

He hummed. A soft rumble of thunder sounded outside, the last vestige of the storm. “Do you think Gengar’s okay?”

You couldn’t answer that. If Yoongi’s information was correct, the ghost pokemon had been abandoned by its trainer. This had been the first major storm since Yoongi had found the Gengar. You had no idea how it had weathered the storm, if it had been scared of the thunder, if it had been able to get out of the rain.

“Do you want to go check on it?”

Yoongi shook his head. But then, he paused. “Yeah. I kind of do.”

And that was how you found yourself at the train station at two o’clock in the morning, searching the alley for the plump purple shadow. It was cold, the chill of the storm still clung to the air and the soggy ground did nothing to help your freezing feet. Neither of you had bothered to put on actual clothes--you had pulled on a pair of old sweatpants and the hoodie Yoongi had bought two sizes too big specifically so you could share it.

Yoongi clutched your hand tightly as you searched, and for a moment, you were transported back to the Darkest Day, when he had first called you to help him feed the Gengar. How much and yet how little had changed since then.

Eventually, you found the Gengar. It was sitting under an overhang on the steps at the side entrance of the station, staring at its feet gloomily. As soon as it heard your footsteps approaching, it started to dissolve into the pavement.

“It’s us!” Yoongi called, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible. The train station closed at midnight, and while the city was busy enough that it wasn’t entirely suspicious that you were out so late, it certainly wouldn’t be great if you managed to disturb all of the neighbors.

The Gengar froze, the lower half of its body hidden in the shadows of the steps. Its red eyes watched the two of you warily. It didn’t look particularly happy.

Carefully, Yoongi took a few steps closer. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, crouching down in front of the pokemon. “I was worried about you in the storm.” The Gengar huffed and looked away. “It’s chilly out. Are you cold?” Yoongi attempted, his tone placating.

From a few steps away, you watched as the ghost pokemon slowly let its guard down. Its red eyes softened, and it frowned ever so slightly.

Yoongi sighed. “I’m sorry we left you out here. We shouldn’t have done that.” Quickly, he corrected himself. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

He looked over at you then, his dark eyes meeting yours briefly before darting away. He stared at the logo on your hoodie--his hoodie--for what felt like an eternity. Then, he took a deep breath and turned back to the Gengar.

“Did you… Do you want to come home with us?” You could hear the nerves in his tone, the slight wobble in his voice.

The Gengar sat silently, staring at Yoongi. It didn’t move. It didn’t pull itself from the shadows. It just stared.

“I know you have a trainer,” Yoongi said quickly, attempting to smooth over the situation. “So it wouldn’t even need to be a permanent thing. I just… feel bad that you’re out here all alone.”

Eons passed. Your toes froze in your sneakers. But still, you stood there, slightly behind Yoongi as he crouched in front of the purple ghost. If you hadn’t been sure of it before, you were convinced of it now: Yoongi could probably convince you to jump off a bridge. He never would do that, because he was a good person and a kind and benevolent being, but looking back over your years of friendship, standing outside of a train station at two in the morning wasn’t even the weirdest situation he had managed to drag you into.

So yeah, you were pretty sure if he asked, you would jump off a bridge.

Eventually, though, the Gengar slithered the lower half of its body out of the shadows, its little legs phasing into existence in a transparent gradient. It reached forward and Yoongi grabbed its little hand. Gengar smiled at that, its eyes falling closed and a wide, toothy grin spreading across its face.

Yoongi stood then, the Gengar’s hand still in his own, and turned to you. “Do you uh… mind if we still crash at your place?”

You laughed and nodded. He grabbed your hand as he passed you, leading you and Gengar back towards your apartment for the night.

The power outage at Yoongi’s apartment complex had been more significant than anyone had initially realized. Apparently, during the storm, a bolt of lightning had hit something electrical on the roof of one of the buildings and sent a surge through the complex, shorting circuits and frying wires all through the system. Some parts of the building needed to be rewired, and then the city had to inspect everything to make sure it was safe.

Two weeks later, Yoongi was still crashing at your place.

You didn’t mind. Honestly, you didn’t. Yoongi was far from the worst roommate in the world--he cleaned up after himself, and he was quiet, and he was a kickass cook. And Gengar wasn’t too bad, either. It seemed to get along with Nickit, but it mostly kept to itself, seemingly entertained by phasing in and out of walls.

It was just… for two weeks, you’d barely gotten any sleep.

You weren’t quite sure why, either. All you knew was that you would wake up exhausted, as if you had just spent eight hours running a marathon instead of resting. Some days, you would wake up with a pounding headache that couldn’t be touched by over-the-counter medication. Other days, you would wake up and your whole body would hurt, like you had spent all night with muscle cramps.

The lack of sleep was starting to get to you. You could feel your fuse getting shorter and shorter, and you were almost always grumpy, even with Yoongi. So when he plopped himself down on your couch after work one evening, you fought the urge to explode.

“Jin says the landlord thinks it’s going to be another week at least,” Yoongi reported, tucking his phone into his back pocket.

He didn’t deserve your frustrations, you tried to remind yourself. He was just doing his best.

“Great,” you said dryly. You could hear the snap in your voice, and when you saw the corners of his mouth turn down, you knew he had heard it, too. “I’m sorry,” you said immediately, sighing and running a hand through your hair. “I just… haven’t been sleeping well.”

He hummed in understanding. Normally, you loved how level and even tempered he was, how understanding he could be. Yoongi never judged you too harshly, giving you the benefit of the doubt, even when you probably didn’t deserve it. Even his kindness was starting to annoy you.

“Do you want to try to take a nap?” he asked softly, turning slightly so that he was better facing you. “I can put something boring on tv, and you can get comfortable?”

For a moment, you wanted to snap at him again, to tell him that no, you didn’t want to take a nap. It was six in the evening, and there was no way you would sleep at night if you took a nap now. But the smile he gave you was so soft, and his arms looked inviting, and really, who cared if you couldn’t sleep that night? It wasn’t like you could get rest anyway. So you nodded, just once, and he pulled you into his chest.

You’d always been amazed at how natural cuddling with Yoongi felt. Your bodies fit together well. His torso and legs were the perfect length for you to curl around when you were laying down, his shoulders were the perfect height for you to lean against. You knew most people were confused by your relationship.

Lying there on the couch with him, your head against his shoulder, his arms wrapped around you, you felt yourself begin to drift. Yoongi was warm and soft, despite the fact that he had been hitting the gym more frequently. And he had put on one of those Behind the Music documentaries where the narrator was just dronelike enough that it was soothing to listen to on a low volume.

You were asleep in no time.

It was dark, darker than you’d ever experienced before. At first, you thought maybe the power had gone out. But no, that wasn’t right. This darkness felt foreboding, ominous, almost primordial. And it went on forever. You weren’t sure how you knew that, but as soon as the thought entered your mind, you knew it was true. The inky blackness had no end, no beginning. It just was.

And it was thick. Like heavy fog in the mountains on a midsummer morning. You could feel it in your lungs, how the air was saturated and oppressive, could feel how it weighed your body down as you moved. Every breath you took was a little difficult, as if you were taking in barely enough oxygen.

A flash of light off to your left drew your attention, and you made your way to it, moving carefully. As you got closer, a pit started to form in your stomach--a strange, nauseating dropping sensation, as if you were in perpetual freefall.

The light was blinding. You had no idea how you were moving closer to it--your legs and arms felt like lead. Closing your eyes didn’t help, the flashing shined through your eyelids in bright hues of reds and oranges. The brightness hurt, and as you squeezed your eyes tight against it, your ears started to ring.

One last flash, brighter than the others, and then it all stopped.

When the spots cleared from your eyes, you could see a figure in front of you. He wasn’t facing you, but you would recognize the box-dyed blue-grey hair anywhere.

“What are you doing?”

His voice was cold, his tone even. For a moment, you didn’t think he was talking to you. But then his dark eyes met yours, and you could see the annoyance in them. Of course he was talking to you. Who else would he be talking to? Your stomach dropped.

“Why do you have to cling to me all the time? Do you know how annoying it is to always have you hanging off me?” He scoffed. “I don’t like people touching me. Don’t you know that? Or are you too stuck in your own world to care?”

The pit in your stomach solidified into something akin to dread, and you could feel your heart start to race. This was a dream. Your brain was just creating lies. Yoongi had been your closest friend for a long time. He would have told you if anything you did made him uncomfortable. Right?

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind, but it only brought the ringing in your ears back.

“You need to stop.” Yoongi’s voice, firm this time, sounded further off, like he was speaking to you from underwater. “It’s not nice.”

You were confused, but the Yoongi in front of you spoke again. “God, sometimes I just… I need you to leave me alone. I need my space. Just because I’m staying with you doesn’t mean we have to hang out every second of every day. You can be so annoying sometimes.”

When you opened your mouth to respond, you couldn’t speak.

Underwater Yoongi spoke again. “Gengar. I know you understand me. Stop.”

It was like a fog lifted from your mind. The Gengar. Was it causing this? In front of you, Yoongi turned, his mouth contorted into a wide, toothy grin, his eyes glowing a bright red. And then he was gone.

A few seconds later, you woke up, feeling very much like a deep sea diver surfacing after a particularly long dive. For a moment, you were disoriented, the Behind the Music documentary still quietly playing on the tv confused you. It felt like you had been asleep for hours. But in reality, it had apparently only been forty-five minutes. The pressure around your body felt wrong, and immediately, you sat up, pulling away quickly. Your sudden movement scared Yoongi, and he jumped, his hands flying up to shoulder-height in an expression of submission and innocence.

You rubbed your forehead. The pressure around you had been his arms. He had been holding you. You sighed. Your head hurt.

Yoongi looked at you, concerned. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

When he reached out to grab your hand, you pulled away, your brain screaming at you.

Do you know how annoying it is to always have you hanging off me?

Confusion flashed in Yoongi’s dark eyes, his brow furrowing slightly. He whispered your name, his hands falling helplessly into his lap. “You had a nightmare?” You nodded, and his eyes fell closed. “I was afraid of that.”

“What do you mean?” It was strange to hear your own voice. It was hoarse, like you had spent the past hour yelling.

He scratched behind his ear with his index finger, refusing to make eye contact with you. “Gengar is… well, I had to scold it.” You said nothing, still too out of it from your dream to question him. “I think it’s the reason you’ve been sleeping so badly.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure exactly. I think it might be jealous. You did say it liked me more than you.”

You nodded. You knew that you should be angry, or at the very least, upset with the fact that Yoongi’s Gengar was eating your dreams and giving you nightmares. And maybe eventually, you would be. But in that moment, you were kind of relieved. It was Gengar that had made the Yoongi of your nightmares say those things. It wasn’t your fault that you were so sleep deprived.

“I told it that it had to stop or this wasn’t going to work,” Yoongi said softly. “I want Gengar to be happy with me as its trainer, but I won’t let it attack you. That’s not happening.”

“I appreciate that.” You let him take your hand then. “I would like to not have a dream like that again.”

Yoongi nodded, and you could tell he wanted to ask more. But he didn’t, choosing instead to lean back against the couch and turn his attention back to the documentary.

“Gengar’s sulking right now,” he said softly. “But I want it to apologize to you.”

You hummed. You appreciated his desire to make it better, at least.

You thought he had dropped the subject of your nightmare. But then you went to bed for the night. You were still shaken by the dream, but you hadn’t realized just how much it had affected you until you laid down.

Normally, you would have automatically curled yourself around Yoongi, your legs curving to fit behind his, an arm draped lazily around his waist. But you hesitated. Deciding not to risk anything, you faced away from him, burying yourself in your blankets.

You weren’t sure how long it took, but eventually, you heard him sigh, and he rolled over. He tossed and turned for a while, grunting in dissatisfaction every time he moved. It took a long time for him to lie still and stay silent, and you thought that perhaps he had fallen asleep.

“Are you okay?”

Perhaps he hadn’t.

“What do you mean?”

You rolled to your other side, readjusting so you were looking at him. In the darkness of your bedroom, you could tell he was upset. His brow was furrowed, the corners of his mouth downturned in a half-frown. It was quiet except for the sounds of Nickit and Gengar playing somewhere in the apartment.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi repeated, his voice husky with sleep. He was clearly tired, and you felt bad that he was still awake.

“I’m fine,” you told him, not meeting his eyes. “Why?”

“Then why…?” He sighed and then yawned, struggling to open his eyes back up again. “I don’t mind the cuddling. You should know that by now.”

You shrugged. “I wasn’t sure.”

“What was your dream about?” His sharp eyes were on you, then, still tired, but attentive and worried. “What’s got you so in your head?”

You chewed your lip, unsure if you wanted to tell him. But Yoongi was your best friend, and what was the point of that if you couldn’t tell him everything?

“You called me clingy,” you said softly, picking at your thumbnail. “And said that I was annoying.”

He swore under his breath, letting out a heavy sigh. He grabbed for your hand, bringing it up to rest against his chest, his fingers loosely intertwining with yours. For a while, he was quiet, his thumb thoughtfully ghosting against your skin in small circles. When he spoke next, he wasn’t looking at you.

“I have never once thought you were clingy or annoying,” Yoongi said quietly. “Trust me, I live with Jin. I swear to god, if you Google ‘annoying,’ his picture would be the first result.”

You laughed in spite of yourself. Yoongi loved Jin like a brother, no matter what he said. But he was right--Jin’s demeanor certainly wasn’t for everyone.

Yoongi smiled, squeezing your hand gently. “I don’t think you're clingy. And I don’t think you’re annoying. I like hanging out with you. I…” He paused, and for a moment, he looked like he was scolding himself. “I like how affectionate you are. It makes me feel appreciated.”

When you finally fell asleep that night, it was with an arm hooked over Yoongi’s waist, your face pressed between his shoulder blades.

‘Do you want to grab dinner tonight?’

You’d been staring at the message in your notifications for ten minutes. You felt bad ignoring him. You’d never outright ignored Yoongi before. But you had spent the past week avoiding his calls and not reading his texts.

You hadn’t seen him since he’d gone back to his apartment, the electricity finally fixed. Not necessarily because you didn’t want to see him--you missed him desperately--but you needed space. You still weren’t comfortable being around Gengar, even if you mostly understood why it had attacked you.

It had lashed out because it was jealous. Yoongi was its trainer, you knew it had gotten attached to him quickly. In a way, you had come in between them. Your closeness with Yoongi kept him from hanging out entirely with Gengar. Thus, the frustration and the attack.

But understanding why didn’t really make you any more comfortable.

You locked your phone, the screen turning off immediately. Sighing, you leaned back against the back of your couch and ran a hand through your hair. You couldn’t keep ignoring him. You didn’t want to ruin your relationship with Yoongi.

You should have dinner with him.

You unlocked your phone and tapped into your message app. You typed out a quick reply, agreeing to get dinner and hang out. And you sat. And waited.

The minutes dragged as you waited for him to respond. Normally, he was good about texting you back. Even if he was busy, he was attentive to his notifications, especially when they were from you. You started to get nervous. What if he was upset with you?

You started to type out an apology for the late response when you heard a hiss from the corner of the room. When the shadows behind your television started to darken and shift, you yelped in surprise. But then the shadow started to solidify, and two purple horns started to emerge from the wall. When the red eyes and the big, toothy grin appeared in the shadows, you groaned.

“How did you get here?” you asked the shadow.

It cackled and emerged fully, tumbling out of the wall and landing on the floor with a soft ‘thud.’ Gengar laughed, a gleeful look on its face. When it saw you weren’t smiling, its grin faded. Slowly, it waddled over to you, its little feet silent against the floor. It touched your knee, patting it gently, a look of remorse on its face.

You sighed. You wanted to stay mad at the pokemon. You wanted to hold a grudge. But you couldn’t. The poor thing had been abandoned at the train station, left to the elements. Attacking you had been the wrong decision, but you couldn’t fault it for panicking when it thought Yoongi was spending more time with you.

“Does Yoongi know you’re here?” you questioned softly, rubbing the tufts of shadow on top of its head. That was when you noticed it was clutching something in one of its hands. “What do you have there?”

Gengar made a proud noise, perking up slightly as it handed you the object. A cell phone. You were about to ask whose it was when the lock screen lit up from the movement, answering your question.

Your own face grinned up at you from the screen, your chin tucked over Yoongi’s shoulder. He had taken the selfie at the carnival when it was in town. You had thought the lights by the carousel had been pretty--all blues and greens and purples--and had insisted that he pose for a photo with you. He’d made a dumb joke just before snapping the pic, and had managed to catch you both mid-laugh.

Your heart swelled at the memory, but at the same time, it ached. Partly because you felt guilty for ghosting him for a week. But mostly because you missed him.

“You shouldn’t take people’s things,” you chided, gently but firmly. “It’s not nice. Yoongi’s probably wondering where his phone is.”

Then you realized, Yoongi was probably wondering where Gengar was.

So you walked it home. You trekked ten blocks to his apartment, walking slowly so the ghost pokemon could keep up, its little hand clutched in yours the whole way. Gengar chattered away beside you the whole time, cooing when it saw a bird pokemon or pointing up at the clouds when it saw something interesting. It felt almost like you were taking a five foot tall toddler for a walk.

You knocked on the apartment door, standing on the steps and leaning against the banister. You were nervous. Why were you nervous? It was Yoongi. You’d been to his apartment hundreds of times. You and Jin were always on the same team when your friend group got together for game night. You shouldn’t be nervous.

And yet your stomach gave an uneasy flop, and you picked at your nails, unsure.

Beside you, Gengar looked around, waiting patiently at your side, its hand still clutched in yours. It got distracted by a Mothim flapping by, its orange and yellow wings hypnotizing the ghost pokemon for a brief moment.

But then the door opened, and both your and Gengar’s attention snapped to the man on the other side. Jin was tall and broad, and if you believed him, he was so handsome that women stopped him constantly asking to date him.

“Yah, there you are,” Jin groaned, swatting at Gengar to get it to enter the apartment. “You can’t just disappear like that, you know.” He sighed, leaning heavily against the door. “Thank you for returning our little Houdini. We’re still trying to teach manners.”

“I noticed,” you laughed, holding up Yoongi’s phone. “Seems it swiped this on its way out.”

Jin rolled his eyes and stepped back, motioning for you to come in. You kicked off your shoes, nodding when he told you Yoongi was in the living room. Gengar stood in the entry waiting for you, and you ushered it into the living room.

Yoongi sat on the plush chair, head in his hands, his hair a mess from running his hands through it. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell he was upset. His back was tense, and he had made himself as small as possible.

“Hey,” you said softly, attempting not to scare him. “Brought your runaway back.”

His head snapped to you, dark eyes darting from your face to Gengar in front of you. Gengar, for its part, looked apologetic, its mouth turned down in a frown. Yoongi stood, moving to meet you. His hands fell on Gengar’s head, examining its round face for signs of distress. When he saw none, he looked at you, eyes meeting yours briefly before he looked away.

You handed him his phone. “It brought me this, too.”

Yoongi nodded. “Thanks.” His voice was soft, unsure, like he didn’t know how to talk to you.

It hurt, hearing him like that. In the years you had been friends, Yoongi had never been anything but straightforward with you, had never been anything but confident. Even when he was feeling shy or nervous or broken, his unease was never directed toward you.

You waited for him to say something else. He looked like he wanted to, but he stood there, his hand stroking Gengar’s head gently, unspeaking. It was awkward, and you hated it. When nothing came, you sighed.

“Okay, well, I uh…” you stuttered, rubbing your hands together nervously. “I guess I’ll go.”

You took a few awkward steps toward the door, but stopped when Yoongi spoke again.

“So that’s it?”

“What?” you turned, immediately taking a step back. He was standing in front of you, his body barely inches from yours.

“That’s it? You’re just going to leave?” He seemed frustrated. “We haven’t talked for a week. Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you said quietly, looking at your feet. “No, I-”

“Is it Gengar?”

“No.” It was the truth. You weren’t mad at Gengar. Not anymore.

“Then what?”

“I needed time. I didn’t want to be around Gengar at first. But…” You sighed, leaning against the wall beside you. “It got hard to reach out. I wasn’t sure if I should.”

“I wanted to hear from you,” Yoongi said softly. “I always want to hear from you. You’re...” He trailed off, a strange look in his eyes.

He stayed silent, you could see him struggling with what to say next.

Best friends tell each other everything, you thought to yourself. Even when it’s hard.

So you told him the truth.

“I missed you,” you admitted, reaching out and grabbing his hand. You could feel the butterflies fluttering in your stomach as he intertwined your fingers. You were nervous. Why were you nervous? “Did you still want to get dinner?”

Yoongi smiled and nodded. “Of course.” There was something about the softness in his voice that warmed your heart.

You knew you should turn, lead him to the door to go get takeout or to the couch to scroll through a delivery app. But for some reason, you couldn’t move. You were rooted to the spot, stuck there staring at Yoongi’s wide, genuine smile and his deep brown eyes. His head cocked to the side, his eyebrow raised in confusion. For the briefest of moments, you thought you saw his eyes dart down and then back up to meet your eyes.

It wasn’t clear who leaned in first, or when. Only that it happened and that Yoongi’s lips brushed yours gently. Your body felt like he had lit you on fire, every nerve ending simultaneously telling your brain something different. You were suddenly hyper-aware of your hand clutched in Yoongi’s, and the way his hand rested on your hip. When did that get there?

“Was that… was that okay?” his voice was soft, his cheeks flushed the brightest shade of pink. He was still standing so close, his breath fanning against your skin.

You nodded, your brain unable to form coherent thoughts beyond the obvious. You had kissed Yoongi. Or Yoongi had kissed you. You still weren’t clear on the specifics. But his lips had been soft and warm and moulded perfectly to your own. You had to admit that while you had never particularly thought about kissing Yoongi before, now that it had happened…

You very much wanted to do it again.

Thankfully, Yoongi seemed to have a similar thought, because he leaned in again. Your hand slid up his chest, gently knotting in the hair at the base of his neck. Somehow, in that one action, he managed to answer all the questions swirling in your brain and some you didn’t even know you had.

Why did he treat you differently than his other friends?

Why didn’t he seem to care that neither of you had personal boundaries around each other?

What were you?

A raspy giggle behind you jolted you apart. Gengar’s head poked through the wall, it’s red eyes closed as it laughed gleefully.

Yoongi let out a dry chuckle, his hand connecting with the Gengar’s forehead. “Get out of here, you creep,” he scolded playfully. “I’m still mad at you for running away.”

Gengar let out a happy cackle but disappeared into the wall. A second later, Jin screamed in the kitchen, apparently the victim of the ghost pokemon’s mischief. You laughed loudly, Yoongi’s shoulders shaking as he attempted to mask his laughter by burying his face in your shoulder.

“Yah! Don’t laugh at me,” Jin yelled back, appearing in the kitchen doorway. His shirt was completely soaked. He must have been doing dishes when Gengar scared him.

“We’re going out,” Yoongi managed between laughs, squeezing your hand gently. “Watch the little criminal while I’m gone?”

Jin grumbled and waved you away, returning to the kitchen. “Guess it’s just you and me tonight, kid,” you heard him mumble. Gengar cackled in response.

Yoongi kissed you once more, quickly, catching you off-guard. But then he tugged you down the hallway, his hands only separating from you so he could put his shoes on.

“Where to?” he asked softly, eyes meeting yours as you both stood back up.

You walked out of his apartment hand-in-hand. Eventually, you would have to talk about it, but for now, you were content with the new, unexpected development in your relationship.

[munsnz]

TRICKS OF LIFE — STEVE HARRINGTON

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐢. — 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

Overview : Y/N and Hopper discuss about the events from yesterday, they venture off into their regular lives while looking for Will. She makes an interaction where Steve ends up inviting her to a “gathering”. They stumble across Jonathan and look at their past as friends.

A/N: IM SORRY FOR NOT UPLOADING IN THREE MONTHS-

Navigation — Mixtape

As the waffles popped out of toaster, a hand carefully trying to grab the warm breakfast by the sides, but failing miserably, sending a yelp to come out of their mouth.

”Ouch!” Y/N hisses, the sharp burn of pain hitting her fingers. She waves her hand around to try and cool down her hand, blowing on the index finger.

A grumpy, tired voice was muffled by the food in the man’s mouth, pointing towards the female, “You gotta be careful with that, kid.”

”Sheesh I know that dad!”

“Well if you know that, then don’t do it,” Hopper rolled his eyes, grabbing the car’s keys from the hook, “Now I’m heading out early to meet Joyce. Then I’m going to meet another group for a search.”

”What?!” Y/N exclaims while hurrying to place the sticky syrup on the soft, thick waffles satisfying her nostrils, but making her sneeze, “Are you going to tell her what I saw? I could come along and help-“

”No, you have school which is a priority, and you’re sick,” Her father sharply mumbled the response, letting Y/N’s mouth hang open, “We aren’t sure if it was Will or not anyways, we can’t tell Mrs. Byers so she wouldn’t get so... Overwhelmed.”

”Overwhelmed?!”

”Yes, overwhelmed.”

The girl stuffed her face with the breakfast, upsettingly gabbling at the bearded man, “How overwhelmed? I know what I saw! What if it was Will and we just didn’t want to say anything because we could overwhelm Joyce?! The mother always needs to know she-“

Next thing Y/N noticed that no one was listening to her statement as in she was alone in the small home. Hopper was already turning the car engine on, like a regular Tuesday morning. Sighing angrily, she sped towards the door to almost trip by the front porch, catching up to the car door, swinging it open.

”I cannot believe you forgot your one and only daughter!”

Chatter of crowds walking past Y/N as soon as she walked out of the vehicle, she frantically waved. Her father drove off before she could say anything, he seemed more in a rush knowing about Will’s situation and helping his family, more than herself. Y/N stood alone for a quick second to think until a guy on a skateboard drove past her in a vast amount of speed in front of the school. She sighs and clutches to her backpack, finding a familiar female standing in patience.

”It’s Barbie!” Y/N jokes loudly enough for the red-head to hear from the vast distance they were parted from. The girl whom she was calling out for, whipped her head around to make eye contact and smiling. Y/N walked towards Barb, before she bumps shoulders with none other than Nancy, with her crystal blue eyes squinting at her, while she nudged her friend, “I see you’ve been up to some studying.”

”What?!” Nancy’s face expressed her surprised feeling, watch the two other girls smiles widen cheekily. She realized that they could read her like an open book, her face turning slightly pink as the three of them walked in the entrance of the school, “How did you know-“

”I guessed,” Y/N tilts her head and slings an arm around Nancy, “It’s kind of obvious if you think about it. Mike said you were going to hang out with Steve last night.”

Nancy rolls her eyes with a failed poker face. She shakes her head and hands both Y/N and Barb a stack of flashcards as they traveled inside the full enough hallways, “Maybe be a little more useful and help me study.”

”So did you study or not?!” Y/N’s eyebrows rose, receiving the flashcards and flipped through them, earning a subtle glare from Nancy.

“When alpha particles go through gold foil,” Barb spoke upon them, helping Nancy study by asking the question, “They become....”

“Unoccupied space,” Nancy answers, finishing the sentence. Both Barb and Y/N looked for the answer behind the card, finding out that Nancy’s response was in deed correct.

“Let me try this one!” Y/N holds a flash card, ready to question Nancy for the second time, “A molecule that can- Hey!”

Suddenly, a quick hand snatched the stack of flashcards out of the girl’s hand, her E/C eyes rapidly turning up to see who it was. A tall brunette appeared to hold the flashcards in his hands, another male and female following him behind, the second guy teasingly putting a finger in Barb’s ear. Somehow  Y/N getting obnoxiously nudged by the short red-head.

“Well shit.”

It was Steve, Tommy and Carol, a sense of annoyance growing on Y/N, she subtly stayed back and quiet, hearing Steve’s cocky voice, “I don’t know, I think you studied a lot Nance.”

“Steve-“

“I’m telling you, you know, you got this. Don’t worry,” He confidently assured Nancy, “Now, on to more important matters.”

”Like what? Your jerk face getting in our way?” Y/N begins to walk away from the group of friends, but getting held back thanks to Steve yanking her backpack towards him, making her not move.

”Since when has motherless Hop been a bully now?” Steve lightly teases, giggles from Tommy and Carol were heard as Steve  continued on his statement, “Well as I was saying, my dad has left town for a conference, and my mom’s gone with him, cause you know she doesn’t trust him.”

”Good call,” Tommy jokes, making Steve smile, Y/N silently grumbling under her breath.

Steve looks over at Nancy, ”So are you in?”

“In for what?”

Nancy furrows her eyebrows, then Carol speaks as she leans against the wall, “No parents? Big house?”

”A party?” Nancy frantically guesses, Y/N knew it was obvious they were hosting a gathering.

”Ding ding ding!” Carol sarcastically mocks Nancy, She guessed correctly.

Y/N groans, Steve subtly lets go of his grip on her backpack that sustained her. She shuffles away from him freely. Nancy squints her eyes, “But it’s Tuesday.”

“It’s Tuesday!” Tommy mocks as well, “Oh my god.”

Both Tommy and Carol snigger, Steve becomes serious and loudens his voice, “Come on. It’ll be low key. It’ll just be us. What do you say? Are you in or are you out?”

”That’s a definite no,” Y/N comments, she is now placed next to Nancy who faced Steve.

”Hmm maybe bring Y/N along with her girlfriend Barb,” Carol talks back, Steve shushes her sharply.

Nancy hesitates, “Um…”

”Oh god, look,” Carol says with a disgusted face, everyone moves their glance across the hallway, they spot Y/N’s familiar friend. Jonathan.

Y/N felt relieved to see one of her closest friends, she thought he was in some danger yesterday. But he was back in school, it seemed like he was putting up a flier on the bulletin board.

”Oh, God, that’s depressing,” Steve awkwardly speaks, Y/N feeling this slight feeling of anger sit in her stomach.

Nancy turns to the group and requests softly, “Should we say something?”

”I don’t think he speaks.”

Tommy leans against the wall, he watches Jonathan, “How much you want to be he killed him?”

”What-“ Y/N’s eyes widen and made her even more upset as she shot a glare towards him.

Steve shoves Tommy by the arm, “Shut up!”

Nancy contemplates and moves towards Jonathan to speak to him. She began to have a conversation with him a few feet away, all five watched them. Steve had his hand on his hips, he felt annoyed. Y/N noticed Jonathan and Nancy, she remembers how close they were as kids, in middle school.

All three were a known trio, parents knew each other, siblings did too. They got along, played and hung out together. It was perfectly fine, they shared great moments. Up until high school, Jonathan got called a weirdo, Nancy began getting popular, and Y/N stayed Y/N. High school divides people, social status as well. Ever since Nancy had something going on with Steve, she grew extremely distant with Jonathan. Y/N knew it was wrong to just stick with one, so she evenly had her time with them. But it wasn’t  the same.

The two continued to talk, but none of the others were able to listen to the words being spoken. They watched and watched until surprisingly, the bell rang loudly. Y/N stride forward to meet Jonathan and Nancy as Nancy started saying her farewells to the teenager.

“Good luck.”

”Thanks.”

She finishes off, Nancy moves past Y/N to meet Steve along the way. No one actually waited for Y/N, they walked to class without her.

Y/N stands a little closer to Jonathan, “Hey Jonathan. Is everything okay?”

”Hey,” He replies, closing his bag after setting up the papers indicating Will’s information to be able to find him. “I just hope he’s okay.”

Both of them look at the flier, Will’s face was pasted on it, every word describing about his features. Brown hair, brown eyes, short, and 13. None of them had ever thought this moment would come, ever. In the silence, Y/N assured, “We got a lot of search parties, Victor and I are helping. I’m sure we can find him.”

”Yeah, my mom told me you were helping out,” Jonathan smiles softly, watching her on his side. After, he started to walk slowly away to the exit door.

”Where are you going?” Y/N asks, following him in the hallway, “Don’t tell me you’re skipping class!”

”Y/N I have to go,” Jonathan defends his actions, walking closer to the exit, “I’m going to Lonnie’s for Will.”

”No- Jonathan!” She yelled, seeing that the boy ignored her. Disappointed, Y/N peered outside the door, the car was driving off out of Hawkins. She hoped Jonathan wouldn’t be in any more trouble. Why did this ever happen?

”Attention students, at 8 pm tonight, there will be an assembly on the football field in support of Will Byers and his family. All are encouraged to attend,” The PA system called out in the hallway. Before she would get detention, Y/N sighed and walked to Chemistry, where she would take that unawaited test. Probably the test she would fail for the second time. Walking to class, she started thinking about the invite to the party, did she really want to go?

[randomshyperson]

Wanda x Reader - You’re the only exception

Gif is not mine.

Prompt from anon: “Childhood best friends, and reader is basically a fuckgirl who’s only soft for her childhood best friend wanda, they’re constantly teasing and flirting with each other but they never take each other seriously and then something happens and reader gets jealous and realizes she’s fallen for wanda and then she tries to go for it but wanda doesn’t take her seriously bcs she’s a fuckgirl and a player. “

Words:  4.964k ////// Read on AO3

Warnings: Language, mentions of smut, but its mainly fluffy

You wake up with an arm around your waist. Squinting slightly, you look around the room. You think you are in a warehouse, probably the one near Avenue Two, a few meters from the bar where you were last night. You don't know who the girl next to you is, but she is pretty. You didn't ask her her name when you danced with her, and she didn't ask yours when she dragged you here.

You remove your arm from around your waist and stand up, looking for your clothes. Judging by the brightness entering the room, it is morning. And you groan slightly, thinking that your parents are going to kill you.

Your suspicions are confirmed when you put on your pants and reach for your cell phone. The screen is glowing with several missed calls and voice mails. You roll your eyes impatiently at your parents' controlling mania.

- Were you going to sneak out? - said a female voice startling you slightly. The girl you were lying with woke up, and was sitting up in bed, her tone slightly ironic.

- No, I was going to leave a note. - You lie with a smile. And then you make your best sad expression. - I really have to go.

- My friends told me you were a player, I should have known you'd do that. - She replies without really looking upset.

You let out a dry laugh, finishing buttoning up your shirt and putting on your sneakers. She waves her hand and smiles as you leave the room.

//-//

You definitely need a cup of coffee. So when you leave the unknown girl's apartment, you look for a coffee shop. Entering the place, you sit at the counter, unlocking your cell phone to read your pending messages.

- What can I get you? - Someone asks and you raise your eyes, blinking slightly as you notice the attendant. You smile at her as she says.

- Your number.

She looks surprised, but smiles shyly, and then you tell her your actual order.

When she brings you your pancakes and a coffee, a piece of paper with her number on it is on your plate.

You eat while checking your cell phone, and from your instagram feed you find out that yesterday's party was amazing, and that your best friends had moved the celebration to a parking lot when the police asked them to turn down the music in the house. Yesterday had been Steve Rogers' birthday, but you couldn't make it because you went to a rock concert at a bar, and you actually had plans to join the party, but got involved with a girl and never showed up. You hoped Steve wouldn't mind.

Finishing your coffee, you smiled at the paper with the waitress's number on it before putting it in your pocket, and leaving the place, you probably weren't going to call.

//-//

Your mother is furious when you come home. She screams, and accuses. And you roll your eyes, drop your keys on the counter, and slam your bedroom door as you enter. You shower, and change into more comfortable clothes, and then escape through your bedroom window.

Within two minutes you are at the house of your neighbor and best friend, Wanda Maximoff. You climb up the wall ledge into her room, and tap on the window to get her to let you in.

- Hey, Romeo. - She mocks your position as she opens the window, you laugh lightly as you enter the room.

Wanda sits back in the chair at her study table while you throw yourself on her bed.

- Where were you last night? Steve asked about you at the party. - She says, glancing quickly at you before returning to writing in her notebooks.

- Wanda, darling, I love Steve. - You say. - But between him and a hot girl, which one do you think I'll choose?

Wanda laughs, making a wry expression.

- I should know.

- Is that jealousy? - You scoff slightly, making her laugh again.

- You wish.

And then there was a knock on the door, and Pietro, Wanda's twin brother, entered the room.

- Wanda I need to... Oh hello. - The boy smiled at you charmingly, and you just raised your middle finger at him, making him laugh. 

- What's wrong Pietro? - Wanda asked.

- I need you to give me a ride. - He says. - Daddy won't let me drive because of detention.

You giggled lightly, remembering that Pietro was grounded for fighting at school, and almost got suspended. You know because you spent a lot of time with the twins. Wanda lets out an impatient sigh.

- Where to?

- I have practice today. - He says shrugging, and Wanda frowns.

- It's Sunday. - She replies suspiciously.

- Oh, Wanda, come on. Please. - He asks, and Wanda rolls her eyes.

- You'll owe me.

She says as she gets up and Pietro leaves the room excited. 

- Are you going with us?  - she asks you, but you lazily deny it.

- Thanks, but I'm going to get some sleep.

- Make yourself comfortable, just close the window when you leave. - She tells you, and then leaves the room. 

You decided to sleep in your own bed, the smell of Wanda's shampoo on the pillows was distracting you for some reason.

//-//

Mondays were horrible. You dragged your feet toward the school entrance, wishing you could go back to bed. Your first period was history, and you were already sleepy with anticipation.

You barely stepped onto the school grounds when Tony Stark threw his arm around your shoulders, greeting you.

- You are completely crazy! - he remarked with amusement. You blinked in confusion, and he laughed. - I told you that girl was taken.

You really weren't following the story. You reached your lockers, and Tony let go of you just as Steve and Pietro reached you.

- What girl are we talking about, anyway? - you asked as you searched for your books.

- Romanoff, smartass! - Tony replied leaning on the locker beside him. - Someone saw you go down on her in the outdoor patios, and everyone is talking about it. - He tells you, and you giggle. 

- And this is a problem because why exactly? - you replied with irony.

Tony laughed incredulously. Steve and Pietro listened to the story with amused expressions on their faces.

- I don't know, actually. - He says. - But I don't think her boyfriend will be happy to find out.

- That's really not my problem. - You reply with mock amusement. And then you finish taking your books and close the locker, turning to Pietro. - Where is Wanda, anyway? When I left home, you guys weren't outside.

Pietro chuckles. 

- You were late. - he retorted. - We went ahead, and Wanda is probably talking to the coach.

The bell rings and you grumble, saying goodbye to your friends, since you don't share the same history class. You have been used to going to school with Wanda every day since the first grade, and you don't understand why you missed that brief moment so much this morning. You imagine that it is just the usual.

//-//

You only meet Wanda in the third period of the day. She is distracted, and you are curious.

You walk over to her desk, and she is smiling at her cell phone screen.

- What's with that smile? - You tease, and she immediately blocks the phone, putting it on the table, and making you look at her suspiciously. 

- I don't know what you are talking about. - She replies in a tone of embarrassment and mockery.

- My God, you're sending nudes, aren't you? - You exclaim in shock, and Wanda blushes slightly as she laughs, and you sit down beside her.

- You're the worst. - She retorts, looking forward.

- But I'm hot.

You tease, and Wanda rolls her eyes laughing again. You don't talk anymore because the chemistry teacher walks in next, and he hates talking in his class.

//-//

You are bored while listening to the health presentations from last term. You were the first to present, accompanied by Tony and Pietro, because you really wanted to finish this work soon, and now you were leaning over your desk, trying to stay awake while the other students were talking.

Tony patted you on the shoulder to get your attention, and motioned to your left side. You frowned, and then looked up to where he was talking.

It took you a moment to realize that at the two tables after yours was a student with her hand down the pants of the student next to her. You held back a laugh, looking away immediately. 

- No fucking way. - You commented to Tony, laughing softly. 

The professor asked you to be silent next, but you and Tony lowered your voices as much as possible to continue whispering.

- That's Valkyrie and Thor. - He tells you. - They hang out with the bikers kids.

- They'll be expelled, that's for sure. - You reply with irony.

But then the teacher says he will lower the grade of whoever is speaking and you sigh impatiently as you decide to be quiet.

//-//

Wanda is hiding something from you. And she has disguised it very well, because none of your friends have noticed her strange behavior. But you do notice. You notice her distraction, the way she is even longer on her cell phone, or how she has been sneaking out between cheer practice and class, and when you ask, she just says that she was studying in a quieter place.

But it is Friday, game night, and you will have to find out what this is some other time. You put on the helmet of your uniform and walk onto the field, listening to the excited shouts of the crowd. American football games were very crowded, even if they were not the playoffs.

Tony and Steve greet you with a pat on the shoulder as you join the circle of your teammates along with the coach.

- Are you ready, tigers? - she shouts to you after reviewing the moves one last time.

- Yes, coach! - You and the team shout in unison, and move into position.

When you score the winning touchdown, the team lifts you up in the air as the crowd screams and celebrates. And you are laughing and raising your arms, and your gaze falls to the cheering area, looking for Wanda. And then your stomach drops when you see her, wrapped in a kiss with a boy you don't know.

And you don't understand the feeling that settles in your stomach, so you kiss the first girl who smiles at you, hoping that the feeling will go away. And it doesn't.

//-//

Everyone is saying that Wanda Maximoff kissed a boy at the game on Friday, when you arrive at school on Monday. You didn't come to school with the Maximoffs again, nor did you talk to Wanda all weekend.

You eventually find out that the boy is called Vision, or Vis, and is probably going to become the next millionaire in the country with a genius invention. He is part of the science club, and the debate club, and you have never met him. And then you are putting your books away quite hard on your locker, and Steve looks at you curiously.

- What did the locker do to you? - He teases.

- Bite me. 

Your harsh answer makes Steve laugh, and he doesn't press. And then you're walking toward biology class, and the same girl from the game stops you in the hallway. You think her name is Pepper.

- Hey, can I talk to you? - she asks with mischief in her eyes. You knew that a conversation was not what she wanted. And you took one last glance into the room, catching a quick glimpse of Wanda smiling at the phone screen, before nodding in agreement, letting the girl drag you into the nearest bathroom.

//-//

You don't return until second period, and you wait for the teacher to go to the bathroom before sneaking into the room, and throwing yourself into the chair next to Wanda.

- Shit, you scared me! - She remarks when you suddenly arrive. You laugh lightly, throwing the bag on the desk. And then Wanda looks at you with a mixture of mockery and incredulity. - I was going to ask where you were, but I think I have my answer.

You look at her confused, and then she turns to her backpack and pulls out a small mirror, handing it to you. You giggle when you see your reflection, lipstick marks across your collarbone and cheeks, and your lips slightly swollen. A few open buttons in your shirt too.

You try to fix your appearance quickly, and return Wanda's mirror when you are finished, but she doesn't even look at you.

And then the professor is back, and Wanda is distant, and you ignore the discomfort in your stomach.

//-//

You know that you need to talk to Wanda. You don't understand why she is distant, and why she won't talk about her new relationship. And then you are at her window, shortly after she has come home. She frowns in surprise to see you, but she opens the window and makes room for you to come in.

- Is everything all right? - she asks, sitting down on the bed. You hesitate, standing in the window space.

- Is something happening, Wanda? - you ask. - You are hiding things from me. Have I done anything wrong?

Wanda looks away quickly, moving her hands nervously. And you run your hands through your hair.

- I'm sorry. - She says looking at the floor. - I... I didn't know how to tell you.

- You can tell me anything. - You assured, coming over and sitting next to her on the bed, while entwining your hand in hers.

Wanda smiled, looking up at you.

- I met someone. - She tells you, and you keep your face impassive, ignoring the uneasy feeling growing in your stomach. - And it's recent and all... but it' s good. Vis is sweet, and kind. And I think I'm falling in love with him.

You nod, forcing a smile out. 

- That's amazing, Wanda! - You hear yourself say it, as if it were true. 

And then Wanda hugs you, apologizing for not telling you sooner, and you say it's okay. And when you lie on her bed, and go to watch a TV show, you want to cry. You know what has been bothering you all week. The realization hits you fast and makes your heart soar. You are in love with her.

//-//

Things are going relatively well. It's been two weeks since you realized the real nature of your feelings, and you've been ignoring them just fine. And you've accepted every invitation to parties, dates, and even any walk to think about anything other than Wanda. And even the people who know you are amazed at how many girls you've seen in the last few days.

At this very moment, for example, there was a girl you met in French class giving you oral sex against the gym bleachers. You were trying to concentrate on the feeling, but every time you closed your eyes you kept seeing Wanda. And you didn't want to think about her. 

And then the bell rang, and that was the perfect excuse to leave.

//-//

You are very drunk. You think you should have stopped drinking at least ten drinks ago, but you're pouring another one in your mouth. 

And then Steve takes you home, because you are in no condition to be left at a party. And you swear to him that you are fine, and that you are going to bed.

And then you head toward the backyard of Wanda's house as Steve leaves.

There's no way you can get up to Wanda's room without falling off the roof, and your brilliant idea is to throw pebbles at her window. But then it is Pietro who sticks his head out of the window, and he laughs when he sees your state, and you frown. 

- You crazy fool, that' s the wrong window! - he tells you in a low tone, trying to avoid waking up his parents.

- Call Wanda for me! - You ask in the same tone, he laughs shaking his head before going back inside, closing the window.

You start to look around for more pebbles, but then Wanda comes out the back doors, wrapped in a silk robe and looking at you in annoyance.

- What happened to you? - she asks as soon as she reaches you. You are smiling at her because she looks so pretty. - I called you a million times.

- God, you are beautiful.

Wanda blinks in confusion, frowning.

- You're not even listening to me. - She retorts angrily, but keeps her voice down to keep it down. - How much did you drink? 

- I don't know, Mom. - You mock trying to keep your balance. The surroundings were spinning a bit.

- You are unbelievable. - she grumbled angrily. - What do you want anyway?

And then you're laughing, at what you don't know. And then you walk over to Wanda and hug her, but she doesn't respond. You rest your neck on her shoulders, while whispering in her ear:

- Don't tell Wanda, but I am in love with her.

And then Wanda pushes you away and takes two steps back, an expression of pure shock on her face. You stumble backwards and start to laugh, trying not to fall on the floor.

- What did you say? - she asks incredulously.

- Shush. It's a secret. - You say. - Don't tell anyone.

- You're joking. - She says, and you feel your head hurt. - You're lying.

Your drunken brain has one minute of lucidity when you understand what you have just done. 

- I am not lying. - You tell her with a smile. - I am in love with you.

Wanda denies it with her head, you don't understand why her eyes are filled with tears.

- You're drunk. - She retorts. - And you're being mean. I want you to leave.

You sigh, and stumble to your feet as you turn around, walking in the opposite direction of the yard. You're not thinking clearly, but you think you don't like this conversation.

//-//

When you wake up, your head aches a lot. So does your body, and then you realize that you have slept on the living room carpet. 

- Wow, that is sad. - Your younger sister comments when she comes downstairs to find you on the floor. - I would get up before Mom and Dad saw you like that.

- My sweet God in heaven! - Your mother screams after seeing you lying on the floor. You hear your sister giggle and say "too late". And then your mother is running to you and helping you up. But then she smells your clothes and makes an incredulous expression. - Did you really pass out drunk in my living room?

You are covering your face with your hands in an attempt to lessen your migraine, while your mother starts screaming that you are completely irresponsible, and that you were grounded for the rest of your life, but you're not really paying attention.

You want to understand why your last memory of the night is the image of Wanda's crying face.

- And don't think that you are going to miss school today! - You hear your mother screaming while you are in the kitchen. Your sister listens to the fight with a smile on her lips as she eats cereal. - Get upstairs right now and take a shower! I'm taking you to school today! If you have the audacity to drink so much, you will bear the consequences...

The voice grew more distant as you went up to your room. You looked in the bathroom for an aspirin before stepping into the shower.

//-//

Bruce Banner really wasn't happy when he found out that you had slept with his girlfriend. He approached you as soon as you entered the school, and you had too much of a headache to deal with it now.

- Look, here buddy, it's not my fault that you can't satisfy your girl. - You sneer angrily, and then Bruce advances on you, punching the locker behind you. But then Steve appears and pushes him away.

- Get out of here now, Banner. - He warns with an irritated posture. Bruce hesitates.

- Let's see how you like it when she sleeps with your girlfriend. - He retorts angrily before leaving. 

Steve changes his posture completely when he turns to you, and his eyes are tender.

- Everything okay there, Y/N? - He asks and you nod absentmindedly, you really weren't paying attention to Bruce, you wanted to talk to Wanda. - I guess Tony was right. - Steve comments in a wry tone as you walk down the hall together, many looks at you impressed by the confusion. - Banner really wasn't happy.

- I don't give a fucking shit. - You retort with irony. - Have you seen Wanda anywhere?

The boy shrugs his shoulders in denial, and you let out an impatient sigh. You two have English now, and you're going to try to concentrate in class for a while.

//-//

You finally find Wanda, but you have no chance to talk to her now. She is giving a speech in the school gym. The principal has asked her to present the bullying prevention project, and as the class speaker, she has been selected to open the presentation. This would certainly bring good points for the college.

The presentation took about forty minutes, and even though your gaze was glued on Wanda, she didn't look at you once. 

And then when the presentation was over, all the students were sent back to their classrooms, and you had to wait in hiding until only Wanda and the three audio-visual students were left in the gym.

You walked over to them, and Wanda's eyes widened when she saw you, but she looked away quickly, hurrying to collect the papers that were probably the draft of her speech.

- Can we talk? - You said, and the audiovisual team present looked at you in surprise, but your attention was locked on Wanda. 

- I'm busy. - She replied, finishing picking up the papers and holding them tight against her chest.

- Why don't you tell me what's wrong?

Wanda looked away, but then one of the girls from the audiovisual team approached you with a smile.

- Hey, sorry to intrude. - She said in a mischievous tone of voice, and you blinked in surprise because you weren't even remembering the existence of the other people in the room. - When you're done talking to her, can we do something together?

You frowned, and before you could say no, Wanda let out an impatient sigh, and stormed out of the gym, bumping into you while mumbling "have fun". You were in shock for a few seconds, but by the time you ran after her, you had already lost sight of her.

//-//

Pietro was angry with you. But no one seemed willing to tell you what was going on. You were in the cafeteria, eating lunch at the same circular table as Tony, Steve and Pietro, and the Maximoff twin was treating you harshly.

- What's the matter, Pietro? - you asked mildly irritated when he gave you another judgmental look. But then he looked surprised.

- I don't really know.

You frowned.

- Excuse me?

Pietro let out a sigh and put the can of soda he was holding on the table.

- I don't know what you did. - He tells. - All I know is that Wanda is upset. And then so am I.

You raised your fingers to press them between your eyebrows, feeling a headache forming.

- I swear to God. - You complain. - I don't know what I did! She won't tell me!

- Damn it, don't look at me. I didn't even knew you two had fights! - He grumbles awkwardly. - When was the last time you were even angry with Wanda?

You laughed, tucking your hair back.

- Today I think. - You joked. - I don't really know, I never liked to fight with her.

- Then you must have really fucked up. - He remarks, and you let out a grumble, putting your arms on the table and sinking your head into them. - Maybe it has something to do with you coming over to the house drunk.

You raise your head quickly in surprise.

- What did you say?

Pietro blinks at you in confusion and lets out a short laugh.

- Girl, you showed up in our backyard, completely drunk at two o'clock in the morning. - Pietro tells. - You even went for the wrong window.

You let out a surprised exclamation.

- You're shitting me! 

Pietro laughed and denied it with his head.

- I don't know what you talked about, but when Wanda came back inside she was crying. - he says seriously. - She wouldn't tell me what it was, and I think that if I hadn't gotten up to get some water, she wouldn't have told me.

You let out a grumble and shoved your hands to your face, trying to remember. Too many flashbacks from last night came into your head. The party, the dancing, you in a triple kiss with Thor and Valkyrie, and a lot of drinking. And then you remembered the smell of Wanda's shampoo, and finally you knew.

You stood up abruptly from your chair, and Pietro looked at you in surprise, Tony and Steve who were talking next to you also looked at you and Steve asked if everything was okay, but you just nodded in shock at them and ran out of the cafeteria.

You needed to find Wanda, and clear everything up. She was too important to lose.

//-//

You look all over the school for her, and even after the bell rings, you don't go to class. You end up outside, on the soccer field.

And then you see her, sitting on the bleachers, looking straight ahead.

You smile, because she is in the same place where you met as children. As you walk up to her you remember:

“You were in the first grade, and you were playing hide and seek with the other kids at break time. And when you tried to sneak into the bleachers of the soccer field, you bumped into someone.

- I'm sorry. - you said, and looked at the girl in front of you. She frowned and looked down at her hands. You followed her eyes to notice the small kitten in her hands. - Wow, you brought your cat to school?

- I found him. - She answered, stroking the animal. - He was crying.

You moved closer to pet him too, and smiled when he began to purr.

- Maybe he's cold. - You said. - Where is his mother?

The girl shrugged.

- Do you want to help me find her? - She asked, and you smiled.

- Of course. - You agreed, offering to carry the animal, and the girl accepted. - My name is Y/N by the way. What is your name?

- Wanda.

You walked side by side out of the bleachers.”

You sat down next to Wanda, but she kept looking straight ahead. You bit the inside of her cheek, trying to think of exactly what to say. 

- I guess I have to apologize to you. - You said, and Wanda let out a dry laugh.

- is that so?

- But I'm not sorry for anything.

Wanda blinks in confusion, and looks at you with a frown. You look at her seriously.

- I will not apologize for my feelings.

- I'm not going to do that. - She declares, getting up, and walking off the bleachers onto the field, you follow her.

- You're going to keep running then? - You shout. - I love you! I love you!

- Stop saying that! - She shouts back as she turns around. You notice the tears in her eyes. - Stop it!

You take a deep breath, and try to calm the nervousness that is coursing all over your body.

- Why is this so bad? - You ask almost hurt, and Wanda lets out a wry laugh.

- Because I know you! - she replies, holding back her tears. - I know you don't date anyone! You go out, and you have fun, and then you leave! And I can't do that! - she finally lets the tears flow. - Not when I've been in love with you all my life.

Wanda lets out a shaky sigh at the confession and you lose your breath. 

- W-what...

- I can't do this. - She says turning to leave, you rush to run and get in front of her, and she takes two steps backwards nervously.

- Please listen to me. - You asked with desperation in your voice. - I love you. I do, please, Wanda. 

Wanda shakes her head, covering her ears with her hands and closing her eyes. You sigh, and wipe your own eyes. You take a deep breath, and walk over to her, tenderly touching her wrists to pull her hands away from her ears. At first she is startled by your touch, but she allows it, but doesn't look at you. You swallow dryly.

- Wanda, I've always been in love with you. - You confess, and she looks up in confusion. - From the first moment I saw you, I loved you.

- You...

- I never thought I had a chance with someone as amazing as you. - You tell her with a sad smile. - And then I found ways to distract myself from it. I'm sorry for hurting you. I never meant for that to happen.

Wanda lets out a sigh, and buries her head in your neck as she hugs you. 

- Please don't hurt me. - She whispers against your skin. You press her against you.

- I promise.

You hold each other for long minutes, and then Wanda smiles against your neck. 

- Kiss me. - She asks softly, making your whole body shiver in anticipation. You smile as you pull away only to bring your faces together. Your lips meet in a quiet, soft kiss, and you both smile. 

You think you finally understand all the romantic songs in the world.