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nameless-ken · 2 months

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Silent Confessions, Loud Masks - Billy Hargrove x Reader Series

(Please reblog!!!) Happy reading! Comment below to be added to taglist.

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: bullying/rude remarks, mostly angst and some fluff

Introduction | Chapter one

Masterlist

(song for this chapter <3)

The air in Hawkins High School's corridors crackles with anticipation as the final bell signals the end of another mundane day. Amidst the crowds of students, Billy Hargrove stands tall, a formidable presence amidst the chaos. His posture exudes confidence, his gaze sharp and penetrating as he scans the hallway.

As you cautiously approach Billy and his group of friends, you can feel their eyes boring into you with a mixture of disdain and amusement. You suppress a shiver, bracing yourself against the impending onslaught of ridicule.

"Hi Billy," your voice wavers slightly as you address him. The group falls silent, their smirks widening as they turn their attention to you.

"Wanted to tell you to meet me in the school library today instead," you continue, words coming out in a rush as you try to maintain your composure in the face of their scrutiny.

"Why would he do that?" Tommy interjects, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he shoots Billy a knowing look. your confusion deepens at the exchange, heart sinking as you realize you’ve become the subject of their mockery.

"Book report," you add, voice barely above a whisper.

Carol snickers, leaning in closer to Tommy with a smirk. "Wow, Billy. Didn't know you were into charity work now. Helping out the loners, huh?"

Billy's lips curl into a sneer as he glances at you, his eyes alight with amusement. "Yeah, guess I'm just feeling generous today," he quips, his tone dripping with condescension as he looks you up and down.

Tommy lets out a boisterous laugh, nudging Billy playfully. "Man, can you believe this? Y/N actually thinks she's worthy of your attention."

Your cheeks burn with humiliation as you listen to their cruel words, holding back tears.

Ignoring the burning stares of Billy and his friends, you quickly turn on your heel and walk away, heart heavy with disappointment. You thought you were getting somewhere with Billy. That little bonding conversation you had in the library a couple days ago was supposed to be the start of something, you aren’t sure what but something different than Billy’s usual antics. Sadly, it seems nothing is going to change.

You hear them as they make their way down the hall, Billy and his friends, their laughter echoing through the empty halls. You hang back, wanting to see what else they have to say behind your back.

"Did you see the look on her face?" Tommy says with a smirk. "Like she actually thought we wanted her to talk to us."

Carol chuckles, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, what a freak. Like, why would someone like her even bother trying to talk to us?"

You watch Billy's lips quirk into a sly grin from around the corner of the library door. "Who knows, maybe she's got a crush on me or something."

Tommy and Carol burst into laughter at Billy's remark, their voices mingling in a chorus of mockery as they continue to taunt you. Your cheeks start to burn with embarrassment as you brave through their cruel words, fists clenched at your sides, forgetting the sadness and getting angrier by the second. You storm into the library, sitting down at an empty table, awaiting Billy’s arrival.

As Billy takes a seat opposite of you, you can't bring yourself to even look him in the eye, the feeling of resentment festering in the pit of her stomach. Billy offers no words of comfort, no gesture of solidarity to ease your sudden distress after what just happened. You hoped that Billy might stand up for you, that he might show some semblance of decency in the face of his friends' cruelty. But as you heard him laugh and joke with them, it becomes painfully clear that you were wrong.

You push over some notes you took last night, alone in your room having nothing better to do. You can feel Billy’s eyes on your face but you keep your gaze down, opening your copy of the book, pen in hand, ready to take more notes.

The silence between you is deafening, each passing minute serving only to deepen the growing divide between you both. Billy copies you, book in hand as he leans back, balancing the chair on its back legs.

As the minutes pass by, you can’t stand the constant glances from Billy across the table at you. You sigh, shoving your book and notebook in your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and leaving without a single word spoken.

You feel the weight of Billy's betrayal pressing down on you. As you walk to the band room to wait for Robin, one thought echoes in your mind – Billy Hargrove may be your English partner, but he's no friend of yours.

The neon sign of the local diner flickers invitingly as you and Robin step inside, the familiar buzz of chatter and clinking dishes filling the air. The aroma of sizzling burgers and freshly brewed coffee envelopes you, creating a comforting atmosphere that instantly eases your frayed nerves.

Robin scans the room, her eyes bright with excitement as she spots your favorite booth near the window. "Over there," she says, gesturing eagerly as she leads the way.

You follow closely behind, her footsteps echoing against the checkered floor as Robin navigates through the maze of tables. With each step, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, the familiar sights and sounds of the diner providing a much-needed respite from the chaos of the outside world.

As you reach the booth and settle into your seats, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for Robin's unwavering support. "Thanks for coming with me.”

"Of course," Robin remarks, returning the smile. "You know I've always got your back."

"Robin, I don't know what to do. Ever since that encounter with Billy and his friends, I just feel... lost." You admit, pressing your hand to your forehead.

"I get it, Y/N. I can’t imagine how brutal that must’ve been for you. But you can't let Billy get to you like that. He's not worth it."

"I know, but it's not just about him anymore. It's about me, too. I thought maybe I could break through his walls, you know?"

"Hey, don't blame yourself for his behavior. Billy's just a jerk, plain and simple." Robin slams her menu down, leaning onto the table, a stern look on her face.

"I feel like there’s something else there. There has to be a reason he acts the way he does.” You ponder, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I understand your need to over-examine and try to figure out other people, but please, Y/N, be careful. There may be more to his story that could end up hurting more. Not just with him but you too.”

As you listen to Robin's advice, a swirl of conflicting emotions churns within. Billy's callousness has cut you deep, yet a part of you couldn't help but empathize, searching for a glimmer of humanity beneath his hardened exterior. Despite Robin's warnings, you can’t shake the nagging feeling that there is more to Billy's behavior than meets the eye. Perhaps it’s a desperate attempt to rationalize the hurt he causes or a genuine belief in the possibility of some kind of redemption. Regardless, you can’t help but feel a sense of responsibility, as if breaking through Billy's walls was not just about him but a reflection of your own inner struggle for understanding and connection.

You know you probably should’ve told Billy you weren’t showing up to the school library today. You can’t face him, exhausted from having to work late last night and barely got any sleep. But again, why does Billy deserve your respect anyway?

As you trudge along the familiar path home from school, the weight of your eyes are so heavy you could curl up on the grass and fall asleep at any moment.The soft strains of your walkman provide a welcome distraction, the familiar melodies serving as a temporary reprieve from the turmoil swirling within your mind.

Lost in your thoughts, you barely notice the sound of an engine approaching from behind, the low rumble of a car pulling up beside jolting you back to reality. You glance at it, your heart sinking at the sight of Billy's blue Camaro idling next to you, his gaze fixes on you with a mix of confusion and concern.

"Why weren't you at the library?" Billy's voice cuts through, his tone tinged with frustration as he leans near the passenger side window.

You ignore him, jaw clenched tight as you adjust the volume on your walkman, the music drowning out the sound of his voice as you continue walking.

"You said you’d meet me there," you hear him protest, the desperation evident in his tone as he matches your pace with the slow roll of his car. But you refuse to acknowledge him, steps quickening as you try to put distance between yourself and the unwelcome intrusion of his presence.

"Y/N, come on," he pleads, his voice growing more insistent as he trails alongside you. You almost trip over your feet when he says your first name instead of his usual nickname for you. "Can we please just talk?"

Despite his persistence, you gather your self confidence, jaw set in determination as you keep your gaze fixed straight ahead, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

After a few minutes of futile attempts to get your attention, Billy finally relents, his frustration boiling over as he brings the car to a stop, the screech of tires echoing in the quiet street as he abruptly exits the vehicle.

"Y/N, wait!" he calls out again as he stomps over to where you stand on the side of the road, his presence looming over you in an intimidating display of power.

You brace yourself for his approach, heart pounding as you meet his gaze with a mix of defiance and apprehension.

Billy's eyes flicker with irritation and concern as he reaches out towards you, his hand hovering in the air as if unsure whether to touch you.

"Y/N, please," he implores, his voice softening slightly as he takes a step closer. "Just get in the car so we can talk. I promise I won't bite."

Your gaze hardens at his words, your resolve strengthening as you take a step back, putting some distance between you.

"I don't trust you, Billy," you keep your voice steady despite the unease churning in your stomach. "Not after what I heard you saying about me."

Billy's expression flickers with a fleeting flash of guilt, his shoulders slumping slightly as he meets your eyes.

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk to me but I just want to apologize,” he insists. "I didn't mean any of that," his tone earnest as he takes another step forward.

"You had a chance to stand up for me, and you didn't. You just let them make fun of me like everyone else." Billy's jaw tightens at your words, a flicker of shame crossing his features as he struggles to find the right response.

"I know, and I'm sorry," he admits. "I messed up, okay? But I want to make it right.”

“Why do you do it though? you press him, voice tinged with genuine curiosity as you take a step closer, the distance between you shrinking.

"I don't know," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper with a mixture of shame and defiance. "I guess...I guess it's just easier to push people away than to let them in. Easier to be the bad guy."

Your heart aches at his confession, a pang of empathy tugging at your chest as you see the vulnerability lurking beneath his tough exterior.

"Why can't you open up to me?" you ask softly, reaching out towards him, hand hovering in the air.

Billy flinches at your touch, his walls springing back up as he takes a step back, putting some distance between you.

"Why do you want me to?" he retorts, his voice laced with bitterness. "What's in it for you?"

Your heart sinks at his defensive response, a wave of frustration washing over you as you struggle to break through the barriers he's built around himself.

"Because I care about you, believe it or not Billy. Because I can see something in you that you refuse to acknowledge, something real and genuine that's worth fighting for. I know a hurt soul when I see one. I hate how much I’m willing to offer my help to you because you’ve been unbelievably disrespectful to me but unlike you, I want to help others.”

Billy's expression softens at your words, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he takes a tentative step towards you. "I just...I don't know how to be any different."

You will never be sorry for how compassionate you are, no matter how terrible the other person may be because deep down, everyone is dealing with their own shit.

"I don’t need your sorrys," you reply, voice filled with warmth and sincerity. "You just have to be willing to try."

"Will you let me give you a ride home?" His voice remains small. "It's the least I can do after everything." Billy walks over and opens the passenger door for you. “I promise I will try to be better, for you.”

You meet Billy's gaze once more, uncertainty clouding your eyes as you weigh his words carefully. You can sense the genuine desire to make amends shining through his usual bravado.

After a moment of hesitation, you nod slowly, a tentative smile gracing your lips as you step into the waiting car.

"You better not make me regret this.”

As you drive by the arcade after picking up your weekly VHS from Family Video with Robin’s discount, you notice Max Mayfield, Billy’s step-sister, standing alone outside in the dimly lit parking lot, arms crossed tightly around herself. Concern flickers across your face as you drive into the parking lot and approach Max.

"Hey, Max," you call out softly. "Are you okay? You look cold."

Max's head snaps, surprise evident in her wide eyes as she meets your gaze.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Max replies, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she wraps her jacket tighter around herself. "Just waiting for Billy. He's late...again."

Your heart sinks at Max's words, sympathy flooding through. You’ve seen Max and Billy together outside the school parking lot on several occasions and they certainly aren’t that friendly with each other.

"Do you need a ride? It's getting late, and it doesn't look like he's coming anytime soon."

Max hesitates for a moment, uncertainty flickering across her features before she nods slowly. "Yeah, that would be great.”

As Max buckles in, you start the engine again, breaking the silence with a gentle smile aimed at her, turning down your Kate Bush tape playing through the radio.

"How's school been treating you since you moved from California?" you wonder, glancing over at both sides of the road and pulling out of the parking lot.

Max shrugs, a faint frown tugging at the corners of her lips. "It's been alright, I guess. Kinda miss the sun though."

You nod sympathetically, understanding the adjustment it must be to move from sunny California to a place like Hawkins. "Yeah, I bet. How about your brother? How do you two get along?"

Max lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head slightly. "Let's just say Billy and I aren't exactly best friends. He's usually too busy being an asshole most of the time."

"I'm sorry to hear that. How long has he acted like that?"

Max's expression darkens, her gaze flickering towards the window as if lost in thought. "It's... complicated. His dad's not exactly the nicest guy around. Billy's learned a lot from him, unfortunately."

"I'm sorry, Max. That must be really tough." You understand Billy’s high walls and how awful he can be to others. “I know we don’t know each other that well but anytime you need someone to talk to, I'm here.”

Max offers her a small, sad smile, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thanks, Y/N."

"Given that I'm Billy's English partner, I'll do my best to knock some sense into him on your behalf." Both of your laughter fills the air as you turn down their road.

The atmosphere grows increasingly tense, the sound of raised voices and shouting carrying through the night air as you pull into their driveway. Your grip tightens on the steering wheel, a sense of foreboding settling over the car.

Max hesitates as she opens the car door, her gaze flickering towards the house with fear and apprehension.

"It's okay," you reassure her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I can wait with you if you want."

Before Max can respond, the front door bursts open, and Billy storms out, his face twisted in anger. Your heart sinks as you take in the sight of his bloody mouth and bruised knuckles, concern washing over you as you cut the engine and step out of your car.

"Billy..." you begin, voice soft as you step towards him. "Are you okay? Can I help you with anything?"

Billy scoffs at your words, his expression hardening as he glares at you with hostility.

"Don't bother," he retorts, his voice laced with bitterness as he storms past you towards his car. "I don't need your help."

You watch helplessly as Billy speeds away into the night. You turn to Max, your gaze filled with sympathy as you offer her a comforting smile.

"Are you sure you're okay?" you question, as the sound of something breaking from inside the house echoes outside.

Max nods, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she rushes inside the house, leaving you standing alone in the darkness.

Despite his tough exterior and sharp words, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of empathy for Billy. Knowing the abuse he seems to endure from his father explains so much about why he keeps his walls up, why he lashes out the way he does.

You long for the chance to show Billy that not everyone in his life wants to hurt him, that he doesn’t have to face his struggles alone. As you drive home, your thoughts linger on him, a silent promise forming in your mind: you would be there for him, whenever he’s ready to let you in.

You lean against your locker, idly twirling the combination lock as you try to pay attention to what Robin is saying.

“-and did you see her this morning?... She's just so... perfect." Robin sighs dreamily as she speaks about Vickie, her enigmatic crush, who’s also in band with her.

"Tell me about it. You practically melt every time Vickie walks by."

"Shh, keep it down! I don't want the whole school to know." Robin moves to practically cover your mouth with her hands and you laugh.

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. But seriously, what's the deal? You've been eyeing her like crazy lately."

"I don't know... There's just something about her. She's so confident and cool, you know?"

"You should totally go for it."

"Easier said than done, Y/N. Besides, We’re not even sure if she's into girls."

"Take a chance! And who knows, maybe she's been eyeing you too."

"Highly doubt it, but thanks for the pep talk."

"Anytime. You know I've always got your back."

"While we’re on the subject of crushes, how's your thing with Billy going?"

“What? What thing with Billy?” You avoid her gaze.

"Oh, come on, Y/N. I know how stubborn you are and how Billy acts but I can notice there’s something there."

"It's not like that, Robin. We're just partners for a project." You shift uncomfortably.

"Sure, just partners. That's why he's always looking over at you right now.”

You turn your head suddenly, locking eyes with Billy, glancing down to see the note you put in his locker resting in his hands. You send him a friendly smile, hoping to bridge the gap between you after the encounter last night.

However, Billy's response was far from warm. With a dismissive gesture, he tosses the note back into his locker and slams it shut before striding away, his demeanor as aloof as ever.

"Stop it, Robin. You're reading too much into it."

"Yeah, I get it. Last night was rough from what you told me. Maybe he just needs some space. You know how guys can be."

"Am I, though?”

You grab your last textbook and slam your locker shut. "I don't know, Robin. Things have been weird between us lately. After what happened last night..."

"Yeah, maybe. But still, I want to help him. I thought we were starting to get along better."

"Well, if he's being a jerk, then he doesn't deserve you stressing over him. Seriously, you're too good for that. You’re always helping everyone around you.’

You sigh softly, understanding where Robin is coming from. You’ve been a people pleaser your whole life, particularly with people you’re close with and those you care about. It’s an instinct to you that you need to learn to set boundaries with.

Despite Billy’s prickly exterior, you can’t hold his attitude against him, knowing all too well the struggles he faces behind closed doors. You’ll do anything to help him realize there are good people in this world, people willing to help him and show him how different life can be.

After a long day of classes, you trudge out of the school building, the weight of your backpack pulling at your shoulders. Spotting Billy leaning casually against his Camaro, a cloud of smoke swirling around him, you brace yourself for the inevitable interaction.

"Hey, Billy," you greet him, mustering up a polite smile.

"Get in," he commands, his tone sharp and dismissive.

You comply, not wanting to argue or add more to his sour attitude. You slide into the passenger seat as Billy follows, starting the car. Billy revs the engine and peels out of the parking lot, starting at a high speed.

"Can you please slow down?" you shout over the blasting sounds of Metallica.

Billy glances at you briefly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Anything for you, little mouse," he slowly lets his foot up on the gas pedal.

Soon enough, you arrive at Lovers Lake, a place requested by Billy for a change of scenery. The sun casts a warm glow over the tranquil waters. You breathe a sigh of relief as Billy parks the car.

"I'm not here to make out with you, just so you know," you acknowledge the designated makeout spot from many teenagers in Hawkins.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Billy chuckles softly, flicking his half-finished cigarette out the window before stepping out of the car. You follow suit, hopping up to sit on the hood of the car as Billy leans against it, his gaze fixed on the lake.

Pulling out your notebook, you attempt to engage him in conversation about the notes you took in class about your book. Billy remains distant, his attention focused elsewhere. You sigh inwardly, resigning yourself to the fact that connecting with him would be no easy feat.

Billy begins to shed his clothes, you couldn't help but stare a mixture of confusion and embarrassment washing over you. You avert your gaze, focusing intently on the book in your lap, though your peripheral vision betrays you as you glance at his shirtless form.

"What are you doing?" you manage to stammer, cheeks flushing as you dare to look up at him.

Billy turns to face you, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he shrugs off his jean jacket. "Going for a swim," he declares, a smirk playing on his lips as he kicks off his boots and peels down his jeans, revealing a pair of navy blue boxers.

Your heart skips a beat as you watch him. You quickly avert your eyes once more, trying to focus on the words you wrote down hours ago as if they held the key to your rapidly escalating emotions.

"Come on, join me," Billy urges, his hands resting confidently on his hips as he shoots you a challenging smirk before running to the edge of the lake, sliding off his boxers at the last second, making you gasp at the flash of his ass before he dives into the water.

“Come on, little mouse. Live a little.” He shouts, his upper body coming out of the water, hands pushing his soaking hair away from his face.

With a mixture of apprehension and defiance, you can’t help but hesitate for a moment before walking anxiously toward the lake, starting to peel off your own clothing. Stripped down to your undergarments, feeling the cool breeze against your skin.

“I’m not skinning dipping with you.”

“I’m not forcing you.” Billy says sincerely, his gaze softening as he holds out his hand to you.

Despite your reservations, there's a part of you that longs to break free from the constraints of your everyday life, to embrace the spontaneity and freedom that Billy seems to embody.

With a leap of faith, you take his hand, feeling a rush of exhilaration as you plunge into the water together, the cool embrace of the lake enveloping you both in its refreshing embrace.

As you swim side by side, the tension between you dissipates, replaced by a sense of ease. The water is cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the sun above, and you find yourself relaxing into its embrace.

"I didn't expect you to actually join me," Billy admits, his voice laced with surprise as he glances over at you.

You shrug, a smile playing at your lips. "I guess I just needed a little push," the words coming out more easily than you expected.

"Sometimes we all need a little push," his gaze drifts out across the lake.

There's vulnerability in his words, a glimpse of the person beneath the tough exterior he often presents to the world. It's a side of Billy you've rarely seen, and it leaves you feeling strangely connected to him in that moment.

"Yeah," you agree softly, a sense of understanding passing between you. "Sometimes we do."

For a while, you simply float in silence, the only sound being the gentle lapping of the water against your skin. It's a rare moment of peace in the chaos of your everyday lives, and you find yourself savoring it, reluctant to let it slip away.

"Hey, Y/N," he begins. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. For everything. I’m an asshole." You let his apology hang in the air for a moment before responding.

“You’re suffering too,” you swim closer to him but still keep your distance, knowing what he’s hiding beneath the water. “I know you’ve grown up watching and learning and wearing the anger of your father but I wish you could see how different life can be,” you pause, gaging the look in his eyes for caution before you continue your thoughts. “This anger doesn’t fit you.”

Billy's expression softens at your words. "I never really thought about it like that," he admits. "I guess I've just always... I don't know, it's like I've been carrying this anger around with me for so long, I don't know how to let it go."

You nod in understanding, empathy coursing through your veins. "It's not easy," you acknowledge. "But it's possible. You don't have to be defined by your past, Billy. You can choose a different path for yourself."

Billy's eyes flicker with hope and fear. "Do you really think so?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I do," your conviction unwavering. "But it's up to you to make that choice. I’m here, if you want it. Every step of the way.” You can sense the emotions swirling in Billy’s mind right now, with the way his chest moves faster, jaw clenched and eyes closed, you know he’s not used to being talked to gently or even offered any sort of comfort for a long time.

"But apology accepted," you cut through the silence, lightening up the mood, flashing him a smile, which he returns.

"I mean it, though. I shouldn't have said those things about you. It was wrong, and I'm sorry."

You nod, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders at his words. "Thank you, Billy. I really appreciate that."

"I'll try to do better," Billy adds, his voice quiet but determined. "For you." He repeats his words from when he drove you home the other day.

Billy extends his arm, meeting yours resting out in front of you. The tips of fingers brush against yours. Your breath hitches at the contact, hoping for more but he sadly moves his hand back towards his chest.

The sun begins to sink lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the lake as evening approaches. With a sigh, you reluctantly swim back to the shore, the cool air sending a shiver down your spine as you step out of the water. You turn your back to Billy as he follows you, not ashamed of showing off all his glory. You hastily pull your clothes on, begging for their warmth. You look over your shoulder to Billy zipping up his jeans and throwing his shirt back on, leaving the buttons undone.

You make your way back to his car, gathering your backpack and books. Billy starts his car, turning the heat on full blast as he notices the goosebumps appearing on your arm as you sit down and buckle in.

You both look at each other one more time, genuine smiles on your faces as Billy drives away from Lovers Lake.

Despite the ups and downs of your tumultuous relationship, there's a bond between you that transcends words, a connection that you know will endure whatever challenges may come your way. It's a small step forward, but it's a start – a glimmer of hope in the darkness that surrounds you both.

Taglist: @msbillyhargrove @uselessbutinteresting @milestellergfs @periwinkle-quill @ghostcastaway @iletmytittiestitty-russ @missingbillyhargrove @lotionlamp @billys-pretty-babe @isimpfortoomanypeople

96 notes · View notes

girls-alias · 4 months

Text

Dean's Dream P9

Title: Dean's Dream Part 9

Words: 1,611

Relations: Dean Winchester X reader.

TW: Strong language

Req: @l7axr, @qinnroki, @deans-baby-momma, @angelofdarkness69

Part 8

Third-person POV:

Dean smiled, admiring Y/N's lips as she spoke, giggled or even listened to Sam. She was always smiling because she was in Dean's arms. Dean only came out of reality when Y/N whipped her head around to look at Dean confused. His eyebrows furrowed before rising, showing he wasn't listening and was not guilty of whatever accusatory thing was mentioned.

"What?" He asked innocently making Y/N chuckle, a sound he had missed and held close to his heart.

"Sammy was saying we went to the same dinner on May 3rd," She explained, filling him in on the conversation. He looked at her amazed, a slight chuckle leaving his lips. Her smile beamed at him.

"We were sat next to a hideous cherry painting," Dean chuckled, remembering how the cherry painting stood out to him as it seemed ugly and yet hypnotizing. He watched as Y/N's face grew bewildered.

"So did I," She explained, Dean's dropped open slightly as he wondered about a thousand things.

"Did you go to the bathroom and leave your book on the table?" He asked making me confused but also amazed as she recognised where the story was going. She confirmed excitedly. "I was sat right behind you," He explained, she chuckled as she shook her head. "If I had just turned around we would have seen each other," He explained with a chuckle, their hearts seemed to break a little at his words. It was almost synchronised. They both held sad smiles but smiled honestly when they recognised it on each other's faces. They both leaned in, meeting to kiss. It was a kiss of solidarity and comfort, something they both needed.

The conversation grew lighter as Dean smacked his brother's arm calling him an idiot for not pointing her out. They all laughed, knowing it was ridiculous but it appeared as though life was ridiculous to them too. As the food settled, the topic of conversation was what now? The air seemed to thicken as they all knew the conversation could end badly. Dean's chest seemed to tighten thinking the fairytale would end here and now. There seemed to be a silence surrounding them. Y/N turned completely in her seating position to face Dean. Something, in their dream life they often did to have a one-to-one conversation even in a crowded room. Even though Dean had not experienced this when he was in the dream, his body seemed to remember and understand. He turned his shoulders, facing her as she smiled worriedly.

"I know you hunt monsters and things but I would fall off the edge of the Earth for you if that's what you needed," She began to explain, Dean's smile grew at her words as he went to speak. "Please just let me," She interrupted sincerely. He nodded, closing his mouth and listening. Something the onlooking Sam was confused by. He could hardly get Dean to listen never mind shut up. He was amazed and enthralled, wanting to study her and learn her ways. "My life is miserable and if you will both have me I will come with you, I will learn to be an asset, I will do whatever it takes," She explained, pouring her heart into her words but worrying she sounded too desperate but as Dean smiled, she knew he didn't share her belief of being desperate.

"I'll stay with you while we're on this hunt then we'll take you to the bunker, it's pretty much our home between cases." He explained, admiring her for all she was. Perfection. The piece of him, he was missing. Her smile beamed before she kissed him, confirming she was happy with his words and the plan. She pulled away, admiring him closer before taking a deep breath and turning to Sam. She smiled warmly at him but also sympathetically. Sam waited a little worried about why he was brought into the conversation.

"Sam, you're welcome to stay with me as well. When the case is done we'll look at if you're okay with me coming along. I don't want you to feel like I'll hold you back or that it's a bad idea." She explained thoughtfully. Sam's eyebrows quivered slightly as he smiled, he could already tell she had a big heart. "If at the end of that time you're not 100% on board then we will work it out from there but whatever your answer is we will not judge you or change our feelings for you. It is a life the both of you have already built and I don't want to come in the way of that in any way or form," She explained, smiling softly as he grinned, chuckling softly as she finished.

"I can tell already I want you around," He commented, she sighed softly, relieved by his answer.

"We'll get your final answer before you leave," She explained making him smile so that even if he did change his mind she wouldn't hold it against him or take it personally. "You want me to show you to my apartment?" She asked them both, smiling as she noticed the smirking Dean. She chuckled as she shook her head.

They started climbing out of the booth, Dean offering his hand to help her stand although she didn't need it. She accepted his hand anyway. It was simply an excuse for him to hold her hand, which he continued to do as they walked out. They walked around the diner, chit-chatting slightly about the town as Dean was already looking for food recommendations later. She smiled, indulging him in the information, pointing out the places she remembered simply because she knew Dean would love them. Sam had thought it was a heartwarming gesture as he knew it was her subconscious way of saying I Love You without words.

"This is why you're perfect," Dean chimed in. Seemingly loving that she was excited to try a takeaway place that had the meatiest and greasiest burgers he would like. Also commenting on how they do amazing pasta dishes and salads Sam would like. Dean put an arm over her shoulders and pulled her in to kiss the top of her head as they walked. She giggled as her steps fumbled slightly before resuming a normal rhythm.

They rounded the corner, the Impala in prime view of the car park. She gasped, rushing slightly to get to the car. She ran her hand over the hood. Amazed he actually had the car in the dream as she had wanted this car since she woke up. Dean smiled brightly at her excitement, approaching her as she was almost giddy. Sam chuckled a little confused but watched on, craving to see their interaction. It seemed surreal to Sam, he had never seen Dean this happy, gentle or loving.

"You actually have Baby," She gasped, smiling as she admired the car and Dean admired her. Sam admires the scene.

"Make and model," He prompted, a chuckle escaping her lips.

"1967 Chevy Impala," She explained as if it was hardwired into her brain. Her smile never faded. Dean grinned somehow recalling a time when he had made her learn everything about the car before he would let her drive it. Although he wasn't present in the dream then he seemed to know it like a distant memory. Like he had a short dream about it months ago and had simply forgotten it. He studied her expression as he pulled the keys from his pocket. She grinned, studying him slightly but as he smiled she knew he was letting her drive. She squealed, rushing to embrace Dean as he chuckled. Sam watched on, shock overloading his system. It took him ages for Dean to let him drive. Sam reminded himself that they had not just met a few hours ago and that it was weird circumstances, something he assumed he would be used to by now in this line of work. She bounced slightly as she pulled away from the hug accepting the keys from Dean and turned to Sam, her smile beaming excitedly. "Are you okay if I drive?" She asked Sam. He chuckled noticing she was hiding some excitement in case he wasn't comfortable with it.

"If Dean trusts you to drive I won't argue," Sam chuckled slightly. Holding his hands up to show he wasn't putting up a fight. She squealed excitedly before quickly kissing Dean. Sam opened the back door, crouching into the car. She smirked as she looked at Sam's closing door, a mischievous look filling her eyes. Dean smirked, his recognition of her emotions and intents still sharp.

"You probably won't remember but we had sex in and on this car," She tempted, her tone and words making Dean's mouth dry. His mind flooded as he either remembered or imagined the times. She smirked as she walked around to the driver's door.

Dean admired her the whole time she was driving, his mind was often distracted by his thoughts of her but he wiped them away. She drove them to her apartment block, inviting them into her home. They walked in, happy to be somewhere more private but a little more bare. Sam tried to hide his slightly sad smile as he looked around. It was less homely than the bunker. She simply had all she needed, there weren't any real luxuries or anything sentimental. Dean barely cared where he was as long as he was with her. They could be in hell, and he could be tortured for decades again but as long as she was okay and offering him the heartwarming smile that healed his heart, he would be happy.

Masterlist

Working On

I know @l7axr requested a smut. That will be Part 10 and skippable for those of you know don't like smut.

#fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #spn fanfic #spn

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mouschiwrites · 2 months

Note

thought I should request something steven universe themed if you wanted to write it!!!!

how about a PLATONIC steven universe × human fem reader when she's sick!! I literally have the worst fever it's killing me anyways!! good luck !!!

HOW did this turn out so long…. anyway, sickness solidarity my friend 😞 I have also been struck ill

Word count: 1k

Steven Universe - Sick?! (Steven [platonic])

Steven perked up when the ringing tone of his phone suddenly cut off. Your voice came through, huskily rasping: “Hello?”

“Hiii Y/n!” He chirped, kicking his legs back and forth merrily as they dangled from the couch. He had been miserably bored for… twenty minutes now, if the clock was still working. He’d called hoping that you’d be available to help ease his boredom, but he couldn’t help the feeling that something was off. Usually you didn’t answer so quickly, but there was something else too, something he couldn’t quite pin.

“Wait a minute. You aren’t usually home at this time of day.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m not feeling too well, so I stayed home.”

Steven brought a hand to grip his hair dramatically. “You’re sick?!”

You tried to laugh; you didn’t need to see him to know what he was doing. But it just came out as a sad little wheeze, and you had to regain your wind before you could speak again.

“I’ll be fine. I took some medicine, just waiting for it to kick—”

“Hold on, Y/n!”

He hung up. You looked at your phone screen, frowning. Should I be afraid..?

You were trying to sleep a little, if only to escape your throbbing headache (and all the other aches too numerous to name), but you awoke to the sound of pounding at your door.

You groaned, tugging your blanket over your head. But you could no longer ignore the noise when it was suddenly accompanied by an all-too-familiar voice shouting: “Y/n! Y/nnnn! Are you dead?! I’m coming in!”

Now you were awake. You flew out of bed at the sound of your front door opening, ignoring your wailing muscles for the time and scuttling down the hall.

“Steven, you can’t just break into my house,” you tried to sound firm, but you just didn’t have the energy. You cursed yourself, dragging a hand down your feverish face ruefully.

Steven had set his burger backpack on your kitchen table and was rummaging through it, completely ignoring you.

“I brought soup—it’s canned, I hope that’s okay—and movies, and coloring books, and regular books, and…” he held the bag wide open, clearly looking for something else.

His eyes suddenly lit up, and he plunged his hand into the bag and triumphantly pulling out a little star-shaped plush with a cute nightcap. “This!”

As much as you wanted to hate him for bugging you (you were rather irritable, being in pain and all), you couldn’t stop the huge grin that came to your face when he handed you the plush.

“What are you going to name him?”

You blinked at Steven, then at the little fluffy star. You were about to shrug, but you decided against it when you suddenly became aware of the aches all over your body.

Somehow Steven seemed to sense this, and he took you by the elbow and started dragging you into your living room, taking his backpack in his free hand. “You’re probably tired! Oh geez, your skin is super warm. Do you feel cold?”

He didn’t wait for a response, finding a blanket on the edge of your sofa and wrapping it around your shoulders as you sat.

He plopped down next to you, your shoulders pressed together cozily.

Digging through his bag, he fished out a few DVDs, showing them to you one by one. When he was done, he looked at you with wide eyes, awaiting your response.

“Uh,” you huffed, your eyelids feeling heavy again now that you were all cozy, “I don’t think I want to watch anything. You can, though.”

“Oh. That’s fine! You can just sleep. I’ll be here,” he smiled comfortingly, scooting aside so you could lie flat on the couch. You gave him a grateful nod and reclined, already half asleep by the time you repositioned yourself.

“Can I play with your hair? That always makes me feel better when I’m sick.”

You hummed affirmingly. Steven’s hands were warm against your head as they smoothed your hair, combing it, twisting it, untwisting it; you thought you felt him trying to braid it at some point, but in your half-asleep daze you couldn’t tell.

When you woke up again it was just past noon, and though your sinuses felt funky you could smell something coming from the kitchen. You propped yourself up on your elbow, pressing your lips together at the pain of the motion.

“No! Don’t move!”

You had to smile as Steven stormed towards you with a bowl, his face shifting from anger to agony as he walked. “Hot! Hot! Hot!”

He plopped the bowl down on your lap, fanning his hands off. You could definitely feel the heat of the soup through the blanket, and it was actually pretty comforting.

“Thanks,” you chuckled, sitting up all the way.

“Eat up, you need your strength!” Steven winked. “Want me to put something on the TV?”

“Sure,” you said, blowing off a spoonful of soup and shoving it in your mouth. “You can pick.”

You spent the rest of the afternoon curled up on the couch with Steven, who fretted endlessly about you. He couldn’t seem to go five minutes without asking if you needed anything, and when you did he was off like a race horse to get it.

The sun was starting to set when you insisted that Steven go home. He looked like he wanted to protest, but looking at the darkening sky he knew he couldn’t.

“The gems will worry,” you reminded him.

“I know… are you sure you’ll be okay?”

You laughed, patting his shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Sure, but… call me if you need anything, okay?”

You smiled bemusedly. “I will.”

And then he was off. And not ten minutes passed before you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket, and you pulled it out to find a message from Steven:

Feel better soon! :)

You smiled once more, reclining easily against the soft cushions of your couch, much to your aching body’s relief.

Thank you so much for this request dear! And thanks for reading, take care duckies <33

(divider by saradika)

#steven universe #steven universe x reader #steven universe fanfic #steven x reader

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eyeofhurakana · 1 year

Text

Title: “Unlike Fiction” Chapter: 1/1? Pairing: Sampo x Reader, Gepard x Reader Reader: Gender Neutral / Illegal Underworlder living in Overworld Relationship Level: Sampo - Ex-Beau / Gepard - Current Beau Trust: Sampo - Low / Gepard - Moderate Summary: You decide to show up for Gepard’s celebration for becoming Captain of the Silvermane guard at Serval’s request. However, things don’t go as expected… Warning!: Cursing, Thoughts of Self-Harm (No harm though!)

Glimmering glass chandeliers, bubbling champagne, and a cast of incredibly wealthy persons that all seem to know one another only skin deep…

This scenery is straight out of any romance novel conveying star-crossed lovers of opposing social classes. Though you had to admit, the authors really nailed it. You always thought that at least some of it had to be a little embellished. Yet just as they say, even the ceiling of this immense manor is painted with glorious recounts of Belobog’s long history with awe-inspiring detail.

Your fingers squeeze around the stem of your champagne glass.

The nobles that have gathered are all dressed to the nines. Some even go so far as to wear flowers that are worth at least six years of your own pay. You gulp when you catch sight of a few of the noble ladies standing off to the side in a huddled corner with handheld fans up, covering the lower part of their faces. Quickly, you avert your gaze.

You already know they’re talking about you. Not that it matters. Gossip is a game for the small-minded and weak-willed.

Though you can’t help a certain thought that keeps besieging your mind.

Should you really be here?

“There you are!” Serval calls excitedly with no bother to maintain the rules of decorum as she hurries over to you.

Thank Qlipoth…

Her outfit fits the atmosphere but you feel a sense of pride to see that she never took out her punk rock highlights. It gives you a sense of solidarity as there were a few things in your own look that you refused to change just for a single event.

She definitely gets a few irksome looks, for the mere sin of existing. But like the magnificent storm queen that she is, she doesn’t even care. Immediately, you feel like you’ve found refuge the second she hooks her arm around yours.

“Ugh, thank goodness that you’re here. I was about to lose my head just a moment ago,” she huffs lightly before leaning into you with a relieved smile, “Seriously. I’m really glad you came. I know this isn’t what you’re used to… but if I know Geppie, he’s going to love it that you're here.”

“You really think so?” you ask, still feeling a bit apprehensive.

“Of course! Oh god. You should see how he lights up whenever he mentions you. I swear, you’re like his favorite subject to talk about these days. He barely mentions work anymore. Thank you, by the way. That subject was getting a bit tiresome, but I never really knew how to break it to him, you know? I’m just still sore after the whole… Well… You know.”

Her cerulean eyes drift downwards.

Serval’s sudden termination from the Architects was definitely a huge blow. It was still fresh in her mind despite it happening over a few months ago. Even so, you could still see the cracks it left in her.

It was a miracle that she didn’t give up hope on everything entirely…

You squeeze her arm a little to bring her back to the present before she can drown herself in the past.

“Hey, let’s just enjoy ourselves then. We’ve been through hell. It’s the least we can do, right? We can even see this as, I dunno, reparations for stupid bullshit?”

“Reparations for Stupid Bullshit. RSB. I like it,” Serval laughs with a delighted nod, gladly going with the flow, “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

She squeezes you back. An appreciative thank you.

The two of you end up tearing up the tables filled with fancy cocktails and hors d'oeuvres while chatting about everything and nothing. By the time the great big announcement comes around, both you and Serval are incredibly - and happily - drunk. Restraint isn’t exactly a strong suit for either of you. It’s probably why you get along so well.

When Gepard is announced as the next Captain of the Guard, you both end up hooting and hollering like fools. You get a few glances from those surrounding you and even Gepard breaches the usual protocol to peek.

But he doesn’t smile when he sees you.

Instead, his eyes widen, brows flying up. Then he turns to face front and center like the soldier he’s trained to be.

“...”

A sudden sick, sinking feel forms in your chest.

What was that?

It doesn’t help that you’re intoxicated. The wall that usually keeps the worst thoughts out suddenly isn’t there anymore. Worries flood you without hindrance.

The dam of reason isn’t there to protect you.

“The hell was that?” Serval says, only escalating your worries, “He saw us, right?”

You purse your lips tightly, unable to reply.

Gepard receives praise from both of his parents as well as a few renowned dignitaries. It takes everything you have to keep Serval from breaking into tears at the sight of Cocolia. Serval ends up holding your hand with such a tight grip that her fingernails dig into your skin. But you let it happen. You know how deep those emotional wounds have cut…

She’s barely holding herself together.

“Serval…”

“Don’t tell me we should go. I-I deserve to be here too,” she insists shakily which is remarkably perceptive for own so heavily inebriated, “If anything… she’s the one that doesn’t belong here… This is my home. My home.”

The pain in her voice pulls at every heartstring inside of you. But you have to be the least drunk between you. …Since sobriety is long, long gone.

“I… need to use the bathroom,” you say.

It’s not a lie entirely. Besides, she won’t question it. You don’t know your way around this place like she does.

“Oh shit. Sorry. Yeah, of course. Come on. I’ll take you… woah. Um… Let me hang onto you.”

It takes a little while to find a washroom. It seems Serval’s mind keeps getting muddled from having seen Cocolia. But you keep your patience. It’s what you’d want from your friend if this ever happened to you…

By the time you get to a nearby empty washroom, you barely shut the door when you hear Serval breaking into tears. Your heart becomes heavier than you’re used to. Maybe because you’re pretty sure that you’re bound for one more heartbreak today.

Gepard’s face the moment he saw you in the crowd has yet to leave your mind.

As much as you’d like to hope… you feel that you already know.

He didn’t tell them…

You sit there on the closed toilet for barely a moment before breaking out into silent tears.

This… always… happens.

You try to keep quiet as best you can. You don’t like expressing your pain to others. Your upbringing discouraged showing weakness of any kind. To those around you at that time… you were an incessant inconvenience.

Even still, you hear a soft knock on the door.

Serval sniffles just behind it.

“Are you crying?” she asks with a genuine sweetness behind it, despite her own anguish, that just makes something inside of you crumble to dust.

A sob escapes despite your damnedest attempts to keep it in.

You don’t want to be a burden.

Yet before you know it, she’s already come in and hugs you tightly without reservation. You don’t remember how long the two of you bawl your eyes out, but it’s enough that Serval has to reapply both her and your makeup.

Every noble wears makeup and she’ll be damned if she lets one of her few closest friends walk around shabby.

“Hey, hey. I know you’re worried…” she says while gently applying another coat of foundation on your cheeks, “But I’m telling you, my brother would never ever do that to you. Ugh… He’s nothing like that con man. Ugh… I’m so sorry that I even introduced you to that jerk. He just… He didn’t seem like that, you know?”

She popped her foundation away back into her hidden dress pocket before pulling out some eyeliner to fix the mess under your eyes.

“Geppie is different. I swear. I’ve never heard him tell a lie in his whole life.” Her motions slow as she remembers the look he gave both of you during the celebration of his promotion. “I… I’m sure he had his reasons for reacting so weird. Maybe he was just really surprised?”

You smile weakly despite not believing that.

“You’re probably right,” you fib.

Damn. You were already exhibiting bad habits from said someone…

“Don’t worry. We’ll talk to him soon.”

And just like that, the two of you return to the party though it’s mostly over and done with. Only a few of the major boozehounds stay for the free alcohol while others try some last minute attempts to schmooze with those of higher standing.

Eventually, Serval learns where Gepard retreated off to in search of some solace.

“This’ll be great. I’m sure of it,” she says as she pulls you along.

But with every step, you feel like you’re nearing an execution. The type that can tear the very soul in half while keeping the physical body intact.

“Stay here,” she whispers to you, leaving you just outside the doors before dramatically shoving them open, “Little bro!”

You can hear the shifting of his armor along with his footsteps as he turns to face his older sister.

“Serval…”

Gepard's voice sounds heavy. No matter how much you rewind it in your head, there’s no mirth in it.

“Surprised?” she asks as she hugs him suddenly, “Didn’t think I’d miss your big day, did you?”

“...”

“Gepard?” she asks before leaning back to eye him better.

“You shouldn’t have brought them…” he murmurs but it’s not low enough that you can’t catch it.

The ground beneath you becomes like thin ice over a frigid lake. Each word he says produces a fresh crack, branching out to assure your inevitable destruction.

“What? What do you mean? Aren’t you glad to see them? Gepard, you two are dating. Of course, I’d-” Serval then suddenly stops.

You drop your head as you feel an uncomfortable heat rising along your neck and ears.

Mortification.

She takes a step back.

“You didn’t tell them?” she asks but she’s not really asking.

Her tone sounds utterly appalled.

“I-I was working on it!”

“Gepard! You said-!”

“I know what I said!”

You can’t take anymore.

Removing your shoes, your footfalls become nearly silent as you make a desperate retreat for the nearest open balcony. The freezing air greets you the moment you step out. With a shudder, you make it to the nearest portable heater, switching it on. With time, it glows a gentle orange that reminds you of the Geomarrow where you’re really from…

The place that you should feel ashamed of…

A tear escapes you but you quickly wipe it away, refusing to cry any longer.

Then… in just that moment…

A crazy thought invades your mind.

This is very high up.

…Anything could happen.

A despairing croak escapes you as you grip onto yourself tightly.

No, no, no. Not these thoughts.

Anything but these thoughts!!

It’s like fighting against the blinding cold winds of the Great Freeze. There’s no escape and before you know it, you’re completely lost within its windchill.

If only you hadn’t left… Being alone and disturbed with far too much alcohol always makes for a tragedy waiting to happen…

Please… Someone… I don’t… I don’t want…

And then the improbable happens.

A light flickering in the distance.

At first, it seems random until you realize it remarkably seems like the code that-

No bloody way.

‘Hey there, friend.’

That’s what it says.

Your eyes widen.

No way, no way, no way.

Quickly, you pull out the pocket mirror Serval had lent you. Well, given you, but it was way too expensive to keep on your person. You would sneak it back into the untouched mounds within her workshop later.

For now, you pop it open and use the mirror to reflect the light to message back.

‘Friend or foe?’

You wait with great anticipation for the next reply. At first, you think it might not come, but it does.

‘Friend?’

A desperate laugh escapes you as you can tell right away who this is.

‘Idiot.’

He doesn’t miss a beat.

‘Your idiot.’

You frown.

‘Not mine.’ You correct firmly.

Then nothing. A part of you gets tense.

Did you ruin it? If so, then was it for the best?

But those thoughts vanish when you finally see the light flash again.

‘Are you okay?’

Now it was your turn to give pause. Were you okay?

Your hands trembled around the mirrors as fresh tears fell. This was a pivotal moment. You could feel it.

The air felt like it had been sealed in an invisible vacuum. Static silently building within…

You look toward where you came from.

Neither Landau has come for you…

Too busy bickering, no doubt.

You lightly bite down on your tongue to try and stop the tears but it’s futile.

‘Not okay.’

The next response is so quick that you nearly miss it.

‘SOS?’

You tense.

Your next response will be huge for what happens next…

‘SOS?’ He asks again. “...”

No. The pain is too much. You want out.

‘SOS.’

You wait a few minutes there for a response or anything… but there’s nothing. Your shoulders drop with regret at showing even a hint of your vulnerability to an ex of all people. He probably just found your pain entertaining. Maybe he was taking pictures on his phone right now.

Well, might as well give him the best shot.

You weep quietly from where you lean against the railing… only to feel a sudden rumble from the west side of the manor. It… felt like the kind of shockwaves a bomb gives.

Did he just-?!

The clanking of metallic armor stomping down the halls fills your ears as commands are shouted at length. You debate leaving the balcony but now you’re scared. What if you’ve been lured into a trap? What if you’ll be made the scapegoat? What if-

“Hey there.”

You turn to see the dual dagger-wielding rogue lifting himself with ease over the railing. You were at least three stories high… Had he really just scaled all of that on his own?

Those enchanting green eyes capture you in an instant as they seem equally mesmerized to see you again. A relieved smile spreads across his face as he tilts his head.

“Heard you wanted a swift exit?”

AN: *sipping on Bicardi* Wow. I did not expect to write this… Thank you magic bat.

For those of you that made it this far, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

This could continue but we'll see. Love Triangles are pretty fun though, eh?

#sampo #sampo koski #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #sampo koski x reader #sampo x reader #hurakana fic #star rail #sampo simping #gepard landau #gepard #serval landau #gepard x reader

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seobstarr · 3 months

Text

ON THE COURT— 015: WOAH.

His body struggles to move through the crowd of bodies as he makes his way to her, constantly trying to squeeze between people. “Found you!” He chuckles, taking a deep breath from all of the pushing and shoving.

“And you wanted me to dance…” She scoffs playful as the red cup lifts to her lips, Theo’s body leans swiftly over the countertop they both rested against, his forearm grazing against hers.

After a couple of minutes of painful silence his eyes dart to the ping pong table, where their classmates were. “Do you wanna go play?” He nudges her slightly to catch her attention and her head whips to focus on the activity he pointed at.

“Beer pong?” Her voice questioned

“Yeah, it could be fun!” He hoped to god she didn’t reject him, considering how all she’s been doing was sitting and observing everyone at the party

“Hmm, sure why not” Theo sighs in relief when she agrees to the offer with a light shrug and smiles, his hand interlocking with hers (making sure he didn’t touch the still wrapped one from the coffee incident) and leading her through the crowd.

Her body tensed as he gently guides her through the crowded living space, his hand tightening when it was too hard to push through the bodies. The blood rushes to her cheeks and her smile starts to become more prominent.

“Hey, Theo! Was wondering where you were” Keeho, who had just got done missing his turn, swung his arm around Theo in a childish gesture.

“Had to do something first, my bad.”His eyes dart down to the locked fingers between the both of you then goes back up to link with Theo’s nervous eyes “Hm, I see now…:

“Manager” Keeho smiles

“Hey, Kyo!” Y/n fastly waves back with her free hand

“Are you guys here to play?”

“Yeah, thought we could give it a try” Y/n says again and Theo nods.

“Cool, we just finished this round so you guys get next. Y/n, you’re on Sumin’s team. Theo, you’re on mine,” Keeho explains and Y/n quickly unlocks her hand from Theo’s grasp to walk over to the right side of the table.

“Y/n, right?” Sumin points.

“Yeah! You must be Sumin?” She nods from the introduction.

“Yup, glad to meet you! I think we have a class together, no?”

Y/n’s brain racks at the thought of her, at any familiar feeling “Introduction to Philosophy?” She questions back, the lightbulb in her head brimming with inquiry

“Yes! You sit in front of me most of the time!”

“Right, it’s good to see you!” Y/n says back, giggling a little. “These are my friends! They’ll be on our team.” she nods in solidarity as Sumin hands her a ping pong ball.

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tags🍰: @inthesunnn @captivq @nini-04 @hopeless-romantic-mentality @222brainrot @therealbobbyshloby @miyukisv @jilxe

(pink couldn’t be tagged)

keb notes!: BYE IM SORRY FOR SLOW UPDATES LOLLL IM SORRY YOU GUYS HAVE TO WAIT SO LONG FOR CHAPTERS

:( but senior year is NO joke (i’ve been watching one piece instead of working, i made it to timeskip :p) but i promise things will pick up from here 🫡 alsoooo after this i think i wanna make a sequel with riize, smth ab sungchan since i made him bitchless in this smau😭 AND AND AND proud to say that riize and stayc WILL be main characters in this story starting from here on out !!!

#kpop #p1harmony #kpop imagines #p1harmony fanfic #p1h fluff #p1h theo #p1harmony fluff #p1harmony intak #p1harmony jiung #p1harmony keeho #p1harmony soul #p1harmony jongseob #p1ece #kpop group #fantiction

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shibaraki · 2 years

Text

"Which one of us?"

You hum offhandedly, tilting your head toward him in question, watching the ice in your liquor clink. The bar is quieter now, low lit with orange hues adding a sense of intimacy that made you want to whisper despite the music playing. Suna is at your left, one arm strewn along the back of the seat while he idly plays on his phone, waiting for the next round of drinks. To the left of him is Osamu, elbow propped atop the table with his body turned inwards to keep himself engaged in the conversation, nursing a glass against his chest.

And across the booth, upper half leant forward to give you his undivided attention, is Atsumu. He's a little pink, undoubtedly tipsy, with lips slightly downturned in a lazy frown. "Between me and 'Samu, who's the better lookin' one?"

Suna snorts, an abrupt sound that he covers with the back of his hand, while Osamu simply gives an amused shake of his head and continues to sip on his bourbon. Clearly, neither one are going to help you here.

"What kinda question is that?"

"An easy one," he sniffs, turning up his nose as he sinks back into his seat, "I wanna know. Promise ya, no hard feelings".

At that, Osamu does laugh, finding himself on the sharp end of an inebriated glare. Atsumu was anything but intimidating when he was drunk. He could be quite the smooth talker, more playful — but he would also regress into childish tactics that you thought he'd grown out of and usually acted as if he would die without your attention. Not that you minded. Most of the time it was endearing.

"Well. If you're seriously asking..." he visibly brightens, nodding so quickly that his side swept hair falls loose over his eyes.

"Objectively, you're both pretty attractive. But just 'cause you're twins doesn't mean you're the same. You have... different flavours?"

Behind you, Suna crooks his arm and his hand falls heavy on the crown of your head, patting your hair in solidarity. Atsumu's mouth twists at the sight. "Different flavours," he repeats flatly.

"Neither one of you is better looking, from a neutral standpoint! It depends on what the other person is lookin' for," you can hear the slight whine in your voice, flustered at having to explain yourself. At having to answer this question at all. There's warmth in your belly, the alcohol steady in your system, and it's likely the only reason why you're entertaining this at all.

"M'not askin' about a neutral standpoint, I'm asking about yours!"

"'Tsumu, don't start. Ya gonna make yourself look like loser," Osamu interjects, though not unkindly. His smirk is soft, half lidded eyes fond as he speaks to his brother. Nostalgia, you realise. At first glance, he appears to be remembering something funny.

Rather than snap back, Atsumu slumps forward onto his forearms and rolls the tips of his fingers over the wooden surface, bloating his cheeks with air before releasing it in a sigh. Before he can say anything, a waitress approaches with another tray of drinks and greets your group cheerfully, incognisant of the tension.

The boys murmur their thanks to her. You're grateful to have another cold glass between your hands, turning it as you feel along the ridges and engravings. The fiddling does nothing to stop yourself from rambling as soon as she leaves.

"I just meant that you two are completely separate people, so you'll attract different things, y'know?" damp with condensation, you trace your finger around the rim of your cup, unsettled by Atsumu's piercing stare. He was disturbingly perceptive when he wanted to be, and you were doing everything you could to dance around your feelings.

"Like, 'Samu appears quite laidback and settled. Dependable. He's handsome, and he has his own business. People will probably find his stability attractive," — you ignore as Atsumu grumbles into his cocktail under his breath, why don't'cha marry him then — "you're different. A gorgeous, well travelled Olympic athlete. More than that, you're passionate, fun and incredibly loving. There'll be lots of others who prefer that kind of excitement".

You realise, in the silence that follows, that you may have said a little too much. Shrinking somewhat into yourself, feeling the heat of Suna's arm by your neck, you attempt to sip your drink nonchalantly. "It... it's the connection that you have with someone that makes them more attractive, I think. Yeah. That's— I'll shut up now," you grimace and the alcohol stings in the back of your throat.

A few moments pass, and then: "y'think I'm gorgeous?"

The tension dissipates, and you laugh alongside the others with your chin tucked to your sternum, warm from each cheek to the shell of your ears. Peering up at him, you see that Atsumu is practically beaming. "Idiot," you mumble affectionately.

His enthusiasm softens into something more contemplative. "I want you to think I'm dependable too though," he says, holding your gaze as if to stress the meaning behind his words. Giddiness stirs in your chest.

"Good luck with that," Suna chimes in with a gentle nudge, "this guy rang me cryin' just yesterday cause he broke his washing machine".

"Fuck you Rintarou!"

The atmosphere is light-hearted, jovial. It might be the most fun you'd had in weeks. Laughing together over drinks and reaching for unspoken possibilities, you think that's just fine.

You could be just as dependable, if he needed.

#m.atsumu #tw alcohol

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cybertron-after-dark · 8 months

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ok ok shockwave anon again here to be cringe... could I please request a tfp shockwave × reader oneshot or drabble, where reader is indulging a touched starved shockwave and petting his helm and he leans into it and just gets all the lovings. i need to nurture this man so bad it makes me ill that I can't 😭 YOUR WRITING IS SO SOLID ILY TYSM

Bestie we're all cringe here, we on the robot kisser blog. Also thank you for the lovely words, barking at you in tism solidarity 💖

You really couldn't have predicted the chain reaction you set off on accident, honest. Not the scale of it, at least.

All you really did was try to hold his hand. Not something you were entirely sure would be possible, strictly speaking. The size difference was vast, but you were determined to do something sweet and romantic. You wanted to be a good partner. So, while he was at the lab table, fiddling with the components to a new cloning pod, you reached over to his free servo from your seat next to his workspace, brushing your hand against his much bigger digits. You weren't even fully sure if he'd notice, but the reaction was immediate.

He completely froze, his one optic fixed on you. After a pause, he spoke.

"Do you require anything?"

For a second you were scared he was annoyed, but he just sounded... Unsure? Always a bit hard to tell with Shockwave.

"Not trying to get your attention or anything, just holding your hand. Or, you know, holding a little of it," you answered, sheepish.

"For what purpose?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Oh! I didn't really stop to think if Cybertronians, like... Do that normally," you explained. "For humans it's like an affectionate gesture. Like, a convenient point of contact you can maintain while you maneuver around."

"Simply illogical..." he huffed.

"Sorry!" You squeaked, retracting your hand. Shockwave's antennae quickly flicked down a notch at the loss of contact. "Probably should've asked first..."

"I... You do not have to... I didn't..." He fumbled, his antennae whirring and flicking every which way as he tried to piece the sentence together.

You tried to help him out.

"...Did you want me to stop?"

"...No."

You brought your hand to his again, and you saw his optics dim as you ran your hand over his digits, tracing all the lines and seams you could reach.

"I do not understand why, but... This is enjoyable. I still assert that is fully illogical, though," he said. You could hear a slight rumbling coming from his chest. Revving his engine? Was he... Purring?

"Contact is just a staple of social creatures, man. Feels nice because you need it, or you start to go kinda feral," you explained.

"Dubious. I have lived a long life without any such contact, and I have never exhibited any signs of such regression," he refuted. The weight of his words took a moment to sink in.

"...wait you've never been touched like this? Just... For affection's sake?" You asked, bewildered.

"Of course not."

He really just didn't see anything wrong with that statement...

"Dude... That's..." You stuffed down the urge to call it sad. No pity. You know he can't stand pity. "Well, that's a lot of lost time we'll have to make up for." You tightened your hold on his digits in a squeeze, and the purr grew louder. It seemed he was agreeable to that.

"...May I request a specific point of contact?" He queried. You nodded your head, and he leaned down over the table, resting his helm (sort of) on your lap, though shifting his weight awkwardly so you didn't get crushed. You couldn't look him in the optic, his gaze was pointed far to the side, but you could see the tentative shift of his audial fins well enough to know he wasn't sure how this would go. "I have seen this behavior exhibited in humans regardless of the species of the recipient. I believe the colloquial term is 'head pats.' I hypothesize it will be more... Normal, given the difference in our scale and physiology," he reasoned.

"Oh yeah, nothing weird about petting a giant robot like a puppy," you snarked. His audial fins flicked back, but quickly returned upwards when you started petting his helm. The purring deepened, a low, bassy sound that you felt more than you heard, especially with him so up close and personal. Odd as the setup was, it was nice, and you felt good knowing he was finally getting some much-deserved affection. You felt a little bad that he might get in trouble for slacking on his work, that cloning pod is long forgotten, but for the moment, it could wait. For the moment, you just wanted to love on your boyfriend as he melted into your touch, letting yourself melt into the soft sounds of his rumbling engine and the contented sighs he let out in your hold.

#you can take my purring cybertronian headcanons from my cold offline servos #tfp #transformers prime #shockwave #maccadam #man this got long #worth it tho #you will look at my shockwave catboy propaganda

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cielcreations · 8 months

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"Early Mornings" - Team SITZ

Solidarity used to hate mornings.

As an avian, it was hard to feel well rested unless your bed, your nest, was off the ground. And nests were only good if your instincts accepted the nest. It was an instinctual thing, a natural thing, something you couldn't force or fake. Because accepting a nest means you felt safe, comfortable, at home.

Solidarity hadn't felt that in a long time.

He would often just work late into the night on his empire until he felt tired enough to come home and just flop on the couch. Either that or the floor, whichever was closer that moment. Or he would just sleep outside in an unfinished building, back against the wall. But it wasn't his fault! At least, he liked to think that.

His nest was fine. It was... well, it was a nest. Solidarity didn't have anyone close he'd consider part of his flock or family or whatever else you wanted to call it. So he just had blankets and sheets he personally liked. It was just a bed, really, with not much else. And it wasn't like the other Emperors didn't try to help him, they gave him some of their blankets or sheets or pillows, knowing how avians could get sometimes. But he didn't use them. He did at the beginning, when Tumble Town was just starting! But then it didn't feel right. He didn't feel comfortable, he didn't feel safe. And the truth was, he never truly felt safe in his nest. Nest meant sleep and sleep meant vulnerable and...

Solidarity refused to be vulnerable around the other empires and their Emperors. He was already the butt of all the jokes, he didn't want to give them anything more.

So, yeah, Solidarity used to hate mornings.

Used to.

***

"Rise and SHINE!"

The avian let out a loud squawk, whining as he tried to cover his face with his wings.

"Nuh uh! Come on, Soli!" The blonde tugged on his wings, making sure to be gentle, "Up and at 'em!"

The avian let out an unhappy chirp, puffing up his wings.

The sheep hybrid narrowed his eyes, "Soliiiiii! Wake uppppp! Come on, Impy and Tango are making breakfast!"

Solidarity opened his wings.

"See, not too ba- WOAH!"

The dirty blonde wrapped his wing around the sheep hybrid and pulled him down into his chest, cuddling into him.

"Soliiiiiii! No, you cannot dissuade me with the temptation of cuddles!"

The bird chirped, trilling.

The sheep wavered, "Awwww.... You sound so cute though...."

"Zedaph..."

The sheep looked up, "Impulse! Help me! He's tricking me! I'm trying to get him up, but then he grabbed me! He is trying to tempt me with cuddles! Save me!"

The demon chuckled, walking over. He leaned down, his arms going under Solidarity's legs and his lower back. The avian let out a confused chirp before he squawked as Impulse easily picked him up.

"Up you go, Soli." Impulse chuckled, carrying him out the door.

Solidarity curled into his chest, wings fluttering. He leaned into him, his eyes half lidded.

"Don't fall back asleep!" Zed exclaimed.

Solidarity just whined.

"Come on, gotta get out of birdspace." Impulse gently rubbed his back as the three arrived in the dining room.

Tango turned after he finished setting up the table, smiling, "Morning Soli!"

Solidarity let out a garble of mumbles.

"Trying to get out of birdspace?" Tango teased, Solidarity nodding. The blaze chuckled, "Okay, take your time, love."

Solidarity was sat down in his chair, Zed sitting in his own that was next to the dirty blonde. Tango pulled his chair closer, sitting across from Zed and Impulse sat across from Solidarity as well as beside Tango. The avian rubbed his eyes, yawning a bit as he tried to get out of his bird headspace. He could stay in it all day if his boyfriends let him. He just wanted to drape his wings around his boyfriends and be taken care of.

But, unfortunately, he had to live life.

Damn life for not letting him just be a bird for his boyfriends to take care of.

Solidarity yawned again, mumbling.

"What was that?" Impulse teased.

Solidarity yawned once more, "Don't wanna wake up..."

"You gotta!" Zed leaned towards him, "Here, want me to cut your breakfast?"

The dirty blonde rubbed his eyes, "No... Helps me..."

Tango smiled, "Almost out of birdspace?"

The dirty blonde nodded. He sighed, "Thank you for breakfast..."

"You're welcome, sweetheart!"

Solidarity slowly and groggily ate his breakfast, slowly but surely waking up. Once he was finally awake, he stood up and smiled.

"Alright, I better get to work!" He put his dishes in the sink before walking up to his boyfriends, kissing each of their lips, "Thanks again for breakfast, Tango! See you all after work! Love you!"

"Love you too!" They all called back.

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lesuccube · 6 months

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➚ 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 : ᴍᴀʀᴄ ꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ — ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ , ɴᴏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — secrets long kept revealed between bodies dancing together .

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 — angst bug [ read at your own risk ! ]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 — not beta'd , constructive criticism is welcomed . reblogs and comments are appreciated .

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 — 3.3k

another night, another mission accomplished.

holed up in your hotel room somewhere in switzerland, you and marc finally rest. at least try to. you've known marc for some time now, you've been friends since you joined the military the same year.

he was quite the man to befriend that time but you wouldn't give up on him... you figured that's why he gave in and just let you in his life, because you wouldn't give up on him even if he pushed you away or ignored you. you would just keep coming back.

marc once called you 'an extremely stupid idiot', stressing the word extremely, when you wordlessly joined him on becoming a mercenary.

in the beginning, he often asked you why you'd give up your perfectly fine position in the army for a job that took care of people regardless of whether or not they were good or bad. your answer? 'i don't want you to have to do things alone anymore.' because that's the kind of man marc spector looked like to you: a man used to the life of solidarity and isolation.

you had no desire to change who he was, it was the reason you were so drawn to him back when you two were soldiers, so withdrawn from social gatherings whenever your barracks would hang out for some well deserved TGIFS, marc always stayed behind. or when he does join in every once in a while, he'd always drink by himself on the farthest end of the table.

but you were fine with him like that. your comrades would often call you foolish for even trying but you don't care. you still don't.

you'd take a seat next to him silently, enjoying your own drink and occasionally making or attempting to make small talk with him. it took him a while to warm up to you, nearly a year in service when one friday night as your group once more were enjoying their beers, marc had answered one of your silly questions you tended to ask whenever you would sit next to him.

"which animal do you think would suit you? personally i think you'd get along well with a dog. you're an active guy so you'd probably like doing walks or jogs at the park with one. hm, you'd probably pick a labrador or k9. dobermans would suit you too y'know? you'd both have that dark and intimidating look. or would you rather a cat? since you're like... a social recluse you'd like an introverted animal as well? i mean, it's plausible. i heard a cat's purr helps heal like aches in the body and they generally improve one's mood. yeah, a cat works too. might make you less grumpy—"

"a goldfish." you finally turned around to face him, your eyes wide and disbelieving because did the marc spector finally speak to you? yes, yes he did. and his answer wasn't even included in your previous rambling. "a goldfish..?" you had asked, like you weren't quite sure you heard him right.

he nods at you after glancing in your way for a brief moment. "yeah." you grinned widely at that even if it was only a one word response. "really? how come?" he sighed, putting his drink down, watching the condensation drip down the side of his glass.

"my little brother used to draw this one-finned goldfish when we were kids." this was the first time marc shared personal information with you, well, to be honest this was the first time he actually spoke to you.

"you have a younger brother?" you asked. he stayed silent this time, reverting back to his usual stoic facade. but you can see the way his jaw clenched and his eyebrows knitting, creasing the skin in between.

by then you had figured out that the topic of his younger brother was a sore spot, like a fresh wound, open and profusely bleeding.

normal people would stop talking after seeing the person they're talking to becomes unresponsive to anything you say but not you. not you. you just kept talking as always, listing off the pros and cons of owning a goldfish.

"what are you thinking about?"

marc moves behind you from where you stood by the large mirrors that showcased the nightlife of the small village. where it was, you don't really remember.

you only hum as response, not taking your eyes off the view below. it's not until he rests his hand on your hip, the small touch setting sparks on your skin as it fills you with warmth do you finally turn your head to face him. "it's nothing," you reassure him but you're still somewhat distracted, still reminiscing. "just... thinking."

he raises a curious brow at that, standing next to you as he takes in the city lights as well, much like you did before except now your eyes are on him. you watch his side profile, brows set in its usual straight line, eyes still dark yet it shines with the reflection of the bright lights and his lips pursed. he's relaxed though, you can tell from the way his shoulders lose its usual tenseness and his breathing is even, steady. he's not posed to fight, still alert but at ease nonetheless.

"you sure?" he asks, a small smirk on his face when he notices you staring. you avert your gaze this time, a faint cherry shade on your cheeks. "i'm sure."

on this job you two took, you were only meant to intimidate the archeologists on the dig site in egypt when your partner for the job had shot one of the hostages. that was the first strike.

marc and you had secretly plotted to help them escape. you set a getaway car from what was already on the site, ready to get you all to safety and away but when you had thought you were at a safe distance, bullets ricochet off the car's body until one manages to hit one of its tires and sending you all toppling out of the vehicle in various directions.

unfortunately, you had remained trapped inside it, the seatbelt you had strapped keeping you locked in place in the turned car, hanging you upside down. sticky liquid oozed from an open wound on your head, vision swimming and muddled as you attempted to look around and assess the damage. well, tried to.

you're pretty sure you have a concussion and you probably broke some of your ribs too making it hard for you to breathe through the smoke and sand.

you can't find marc, can't hear him either as gunshots after gunshots echo in the desert, the screams and pleas of the archeologists you were helping escape ring in your ears. he caught up with you and was killing off every single soul you tried to save. only now do you pray he doesn't find you trapped in the car.

your consciousness begins to fade in and out as the desert becomes quiet once again, like the sand has swallowed all that made noise. the oil leaks from somewhere in the car, and you can barely see the flames licking the side of the vehicle. you hear your door being ripped from its hinges, tossed aside somewhere but you're so exhausted, adrenaline wearing off as fatigue settles in your bones.

you barely catch a glimpse of a white figure carrying you to safety, all your weary self saw are two pairs of glowing eyes, like the moon hanging high in the sky above you before you finally lose consciousness.

marc saved you that night in the desert, told you about the deal he made with the egyptian god khonshu and how he accepted becoming his avatar and be his fist of vengeance, protecting the travelers of the night. but of course he couldn't say all that without revealing to you his past, his brokenness.

he told you about the death of his younger sibling roro, the abuse he faced from his mother after that and steven. his alter, his dissociative identity disorder. you knew it all. the only person marc had spilled everything to. you. and much like your time together in the military, you continued top accept him as he is, embraced all the parts of him, good and bad because you can never stand the thought of marc going through everything alone anymore.

you stayed much to his surprise. he'd expected you to up and leave him after you've recovered but you stayed even after that. that's when marc had finally realized you'd be by his side no matter what.

even if you can't see the 7 foot tall skeleton bird that loomed over marc constantly, he always snitches to you what khonshu says just to piss him off and make you laugh. you still helped marc with his vigilantism, though no longer fighting next to him as much as you used to much to your dismay. instead, you were the one who formed networks, did all the social and background work.

you'd be the one to book flights and hotels for you two, under the pretense of a married couple like your fake passport says to avoid suspicion.

you weren't his wife. that much was true. after that night in the desert, he told you that he was seeing a woman, layla el-fouly. you recognized the last name from one of the men that died in the hands of your supposed partner.

you chalk it up to guilt, keeping quiet about it and only congratulating him for that. you even teased him about cheating on you since you're no longer the only woman he was spending time with. he laughed and told you that you were irreplaceable. but not in the sense your heart wanted.

you loved marc a long time ago. maybe it started when you had finally managed to crack him open a little bit that one friday night, maybe it was when he saved you in the desert. all you knew was that you loved him.

you loved him and you'll never be with him. not when layla was now in the picture. he became happier, though obviously never told her what he told you back then, marc kept her in the dark about his past.

you've only met her once in person. that was during their wedding. to say that a part of you died the moment you saw them kiss was an understatement. it left a part of your soul empty, consumed by a void of jealousy and b yearning. you desperately wished that was you in a pretty dress standing next to him as you both said your vows, kissing him until he was left breathless.

you were introduced to her as his best friend. best friend. never did you think that those words would bother you so much when you once took pride in your position in marc's life.

"layla, this is my best friend, y/n. i've known her since i joined the army and we've worked together since then." you stretch a friendly hand out for her to shake, a smile on your lips as you greeted her. "it's lovely to finally meet you y/n! marc won't shut up about you."

the statement makes your heart skip a beat but you tell yourself to calm down, he doesn't mean it that way. "you too layla. marc shows me all the pictures you two take whenever i see him, you two make such a cute couple."

lies. in your mind, they won't last. not unless marc ever tells her about what had happened, his did and the abused he faced as a child, she'll be forever be in the dark or accidentally trigger him in one way or another.

after their first dance as a married couple, marc made a beeline for you, taking your hand in his larger ones as he led you to the dance floor. you danced together as you rest your head on his shoulder, one hand sprawled on your lower back as you gently swayed to the music, your other hands intertwined as he leads you both.

"so..." you started, "marriage. wow. that's like super next level huh?" you can feel his chest rumble with quiet laughter, his hold on your hand tightening. "yeah. super next level indeed. i never- i didn't think i'd ever get married but i guess life still manages to surprise me."

it makes you snort out a chuckle, to which you hastily cover with a cough, not that either of you minded. "you and me both marc. didn't peg you as a husband material."

another lie. you had definitely imagined a life together, much like the one he'll be sharing with layla.

you two continued to dance in silence after that, enjoying the music as you swayed together. only you wished you weren't just his guest, rather the woman he married. layla will never know how much you envy her.

"how's layla?" your question breaks the silence between you as you continue to look down at the city lights below. "she's... fine. we're fine." now that makes you look back at him, an inquisitive look in your eyes. the last sentence was... unnecessary.

you had simply wondered about layla's well-being, not the state of their marriage but now you're beginning to doubt his statement about their relationship being fine. "fess up marc, what's wrong?"

hands on your hips, an eyebrow raised, like a mother waiting for his child to confess. he releases a sigh, head hanging low as he crosses his arms over his chests, like he's protecting himself. something marc does when he's uncomfortable.

"she still doesn't know?" his jaw clenches, like that time you asked about his brother, and that's when you knew you hit the jackpot. "layla needs to know marc. it's better she hears from you rather than finding out about it in a way that's out of your control."

he grunts, he knows you're right, knows he should let his wife know about his condition, him being moon knight and everything he's kept a secret so far. but he can't, he wanted something normal and away from everything he knows. layla was his tiny bubble of obliviousness and to tell her about himself was to burst that bubble and he wasn't ready. he thinks he'll never be prepared to.

instead, he leans his head on your shoulder as your hands naturally find their way to his hair like second nature, raking your fingers through the slicked back curls, letting a few of them come undone and fall over his forehead. "don't wanna." was his only answer and that was the end of it. you don't push it much further, instead choosing to relish his closeness, his breathing brushing against the skin of your exposed shoulder.

you two should be strategizing about your plan for tomorrow, to steal the scarab that leads to ammit's tomb from arthur harrow in the tiny village here in switzerland before he ends up releasing her in the world and cause the deaths of millions not doing whatever it is that you were doing. cuddling? that's not something you two had done since his wedding, respecting the new boundary that was drawn between you. another barrier you'll never be able to cross.

unexpectedly, marc takes hold of one of your hands, the other finding its way around your back until it rests there. there was no music to guide you two, only your heartbeats as he sways you two, the same way he did on his wedding night.

"does layla ever hate me sometimes?" you questioned not too long after but you don't give him enough time to reply when you continue. "she knows i work with you, go to places with you and everything... makes me wonder if there was a part of her that curses me out for spending more time with you than you do with her."

you feel the faint brush of his lips on the exposed skin of your shoulder as he speaks in a hushed whisper, eliciting a hum from you, 'let's not talk about her right now.' he begs, so you remain quiet, simply dancing with him under the dim lights of your hotel room.

your heart speaks and you shush it, not wanting to ruin this tiny moment you have with marc. who knows when you'll get him this close again?

your mouth parts and your voice echoes in your ears before you can stop yourself, the words already hanging over the palpable tension between you two.

"i love you."

he freezes in his steps and about to raise his head from its spot on your shoulder until your grip on his hand tightens, his movements halting.

"since when?" he asked, his tongue heavy in his mouth. "since way back then." came your vague response, never specifying because even you don't know when it was exactly that you had fallen in love with him, before you knew it, you were already in too deep with your feelings for you to be able to swim back out. "i'm sorry for confessing so suddenly. i just— i needed to tell you before it consumes me whole."

you lead this time, continuing your paused dance. he follows soon enough, recovering from the shock of the knowledge that his best friend had just confessed her love to him. "you don't have to say anything marc. i know my place in your life and i would never want to jeopardize that. i guess i've held on it for so long it only felt right that you knew."

silence hangs over you like a tumultuous storm, the thunder being the rapid pounding of your heart against its confines. "why didn't you say something before..." he trails off, unable to finish his question. before i married layla. "i didn't know you'd look for her either marc. i planned to but i couldn't. not when it meant hurting an innocent woman too."

a shaky sigh leaves your lips as you finish, tears stinging the back of your eyes as you try to keep your composure, not wanting marc to see how hurt you are after all these years. how much it hurt that he didn't choose you.

"i love you." you repeat, this time as a finality. finally choosing to let go of the feelings you've held on to for years, unable to be anything more than a friend. "i love you marc spector."

you mean it this time as you sway gently to nothing, in your tiny hotel room somewhere in switzerland. your confession looms over you the same way khonshu does over marc. a daunting shadow you'll never be able to ignore. it hurts, saying those three words out loud but at the same time, freeing.

like a heavy burden off your chest only to leave a part of your heart with it, an empty chasm where his name should rest replaces it. you promised, you told yourself not to but marc spector completed you. he made you whole unlike any other as he holds you in this soft dance.

how bittersweet, the two times you've danced with marc leaving new wounds over old scars. how liberating the pain felt but how utterly empty it left you. being second doesn't feel the same.

"i'm sorry but i fell in love tonight, i didn't mean to fall in love tonight."

marc looks at you this time, an unreadable emotion swimming in those dark pools of chocolate and soil. "you're looking like you fell in love tonight." you teased with a watery smile, lips wobbling as you do so. marc opens his mouth, his voice barely audible, if not for your closeness you wouldn't be able to hear him at all.

"can we pretend that we're in love?"

#👤 — user : kira #📂 — file : marc spector #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight imagine #moon knight angst #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector imagine #marc spector angst #Spotify

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fandom-nursery · 2 months

Text

Jay agere headcanons

Regresses pretty big. Usually around 7-10 years old

Huge big brother energy whenever he regresses at the same time as any of the other VKs

He sometimes struggles to realizes he’s regressing and for a long time he wasn’t even aware that's what was happening to him

He mostly felt confused and a little embarrassed about his regression before learning that the rest of his friends regress too. Having that solidarity on the Isle, even if he didn't have the words for it yet, felt great

Once they came to Auradon and learned what regression was he could confidently put a name to his feelings and there was a lot of relief in knowing that it was something that happened to other people and not just something strange or wrong with him

Little Jay soaks up praise like a sponge and will do almost anything for a pat on the back or a “good job” from whoever is watching him

While regressed Jay will occasionally have a bit of a stutter and tends to forget words

He is a very upbeat and enthusiastic little

Drums his hand on his legs, tables, walls, really anything within his reach when he’s excited

He doesn’t typically nap; however, once when he was outside relaxing with the other VK’s on a very sunny day in the grass he couldn’t help but nod off. Evie took about 1000 pictures of him while he slept

Jay is a very physical guy. When little he loves to have his hair ruffled or be given high fives or piggy back rides. Generally he just craves physical affection

He loves to play games like tag or red light green light or hopscotch. Basically any game where he gets to run around

When he has the time he also likes to go walking down by the ocean and collect sea glass and other cool rocks and shells. Collecting things helps him manage his sticky fingers and keep him from swiping peoples things on instinct

He does struggle not to steal much more while regressing. His impulse control is simply not there and the habit has been ingrained in him for so long since stealing was one of the only ways he could get his father's attention

Jay loves getting to try new foods but his favorites have all been comfort foods that his dad used to make back on the Isle but was never able to get quite right due to the lack of fresh ingredients

Jay can be a bit of a messy eater due to old habits from having to eat quickly on the isle but he’s working on it

Action action figure kid

Jay also has several lego sets that he and Carlos share which he loves to play with

Carlos built him a fidget toy designed specifically for when Jay was having a hard time kicking his thief habits. Fiddling with it always soothes him and helps keeps his hands busy

Jay told Ben about his regression after seeing how the young king responded to Carlos regressing. Jay wanted someone who was more regularly at tourney practice than Carlos to know and be able to pull him aside or help him out if he accidentally regressed on the field (which happened several times)

The VK’s take care of him but he usually feels he doesn’t need a caregiver and really is just happy to have people to keep him company and hang out/play games with

He is a sucker for classic young man nicknames like kiddo and sport

The other VK’s set up a star chart for Jay as a way for him to earn rewards for good behavior. He loves getting to put new stickers on the chart and always gets really excited when he’s earned enough to pick out a prize. It makes him feel very accomplished

#age regression #descendants age regression #disney descendants #fandom agere #descendants agere #jay descendants #Jay agere #Jay age regression #little!jay

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jcbbby · 1 year

Note

🖕🖤

Reader helps jamie to deal with his drug/alchool addiction (kinda couterfeit!jamie)

🎉JCBBBY'S 500 FOLLOWER PARTY🎉

hello hello! thank you for celebrating this milestone with me, and for being here! <3 there's no sentence prompt, but I still hope you like this! I'm sorry this is a little short! - warnings: mention of alcohol genre: angst and fluff -

Counterfeit was on the road around the UK, touring in earnest for the first time. Jamie had invited you out on the road with them, not wanting to be apart for the couple weeks they'd be gone. You of course agreed, wanting to be supportive of his music. But you also wanted to be there as a support system. Jamie had quit alcohol just a few months ago, and you were admittedly a little nervous to have him go out on tour, playing mainly in bars.

The band was well aware of his teetotalism. They had all witnessed the deterioration of his mental health due to his excessive drinking. But you were wary about four young men active in night life being able to keep tabs on the one who wasn't.

They had just finished their third show, in Glasgow, and Tristan had suggested they check out a local bar that his friend had recommended. It was late in the evening now, most things to do were closed, but no one was tired so you all decided to check it out. Jamie had been getting a little antsy, having to be around intoxicated people as a sober one, so you gave a quick squeeze of his hand in support.

"Two waters, with a lemon, please." You smiled, ordering for yourself and Jamie at the bar.

You had promised him that you also wouldn't drink, so he didn't feel so alone. He assured you that you didn't need to, but you were happy to act in solidarity.

"That all?" The bartender asked in a thick Scottish accent.

"Yes, just the waters, thanks!" You smiled politely back as the bartended cocked an eye, but eventually turned to the tap to fill the glasses.

"Can I get a Heineken and two shots of Absolut?" Jimmy asked the other bartender next to the two of you.

Jamie watched intently as the bartender poured the shots and set them down in front of Jimmy. Within just 10 seconds, he had thrown them both back before the bartender could retrieve and open the beer bottle. You noticed Jamie's tense demeanor, handing him his glass of water.

"Hey, you alright?" You asked, lightly touching his shoulder.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine...just...wondering when it gets less weird to not drink in a bar." He chuckled.

You returned the chuckle, caressing his bicep. "It will eventually...do you want to head back to the hotel instead?"

He shook his head. "No, no. I ought to get used to this, right?"

"Okay, well...if you want to leave, just let me know." You smile, linking your arm with his, as you walked over to a small booth that the other bandmates had claimed.

As the night wore on, the rest of the band got progressively more intoxicated and lively. In contrast, however, you noticed Jamie growing more reserved and quiet. He alerted the group that he was heading outside for a smoke and got up from the table. You followed him out and found him leaned against the brick outer wall on the sidewalk taking a drag.

"Hey." You smiled.

"I can't take it." He shook his head. "I just need something. Like even half a beer. I'm so fucking painfully sober and they're all having a great time... I just... fuck." He took another drag.

"Hey, hey... it's okay if you're not ready to be around this yet." You leaned against the wall next to him.

"I just...I just wish I could control it. It sucks being the odd one out, you know?"

You nodded. "I know...but, you know, you're not alone. There are lots of people who have been where you have been."

He exhaled a puff of smoke. "Yeah... I just didn't know it would be so hard. I mean, I knew it would be tough. But, I don't know...it's just isolating."

"Maybe right now it does. But eventually, it will be your normal. You know, you don't have to go out to bars with the mates every time. You're allowed to say no thank you, and go eat snacks in bed with a cup of tea instead." You smiled.

"That does sound lovely, actually..." He turned to you with a gentle smile.

"What do you say we check out the room service at the hotel and see what's on local TV, hmm?"

He flicked his cigarette to the ground, snuffing it out with his boot. "Yeah, alright. Let's take this party back home." He winked.

Jamie texted the rest of the guys, letting them know that the two of you were calling it a night. You walked through the busy streets of Glasgow, back to the hotel. As planned, you both got into your pajamas and snuggled up in bed together. Jamie rang down to room service, ordering a kettle of tea and various snacks. The rest of the night feeling a lot less tense, and you couldn't help but beam with pride knowing that Jamie would be alright. He would find settle into his new normal just fine.

#jcbbby 500 follower party!#jamie campbell bower rpf #jamie bower rpf #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower fanfic #jamie bower fanfic

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poppyseedfics · 1 year

Note

i have been having thoughts

nazuna and his s/o going on an ice cream date when its like 100 degrees f outside

ice cream sweet and refreshing like him...

i'll stop before i start adopting my irl best friend's absurd jokes /pos

Idk how I managed to make Nazuna a side character, but this is Y/ns world, he’s just living in it.

Anyway topical cause it was warm today I got ice-cream. It slapped, it was like chocolate brownie.

OKAY ENJOY~

On an Ice-Cream Date

Nazuna Nito

In your defense, it was not summer. So, realistically, it was not your fault that you weren't prepared for the hottest day you think you've ever felt. 8am in the morning and it was already warm beyond belief. You'd kicked of your sheets during the night, the first thing you did when you got up was change into short and a tank top, you'd blasted the AC for a few hours now- closing the doors around the house so it only had to work to keep one room cool- but even that wasn't working quite well enough.

You'd taken to just sprawling out on the floor. Limbs spread out like a starfish and every few minutes you'd shuffle around a bit in attempt to feel the fresh, crisp coolness of an untouched floor space. You always made sure a leg or arm was touching one of Nazuna's though. He had joined you on the floor. Suffering in solidarity.

At first the two of you had tried to keep up a conversation, but it quickly dwindled into just loafing with some music on in the background.

"Nazunaaaaa, could you get us some ice water? I've already drunk mine…" You trailed off, staring at the large glass that had once contained your salvation. Nazuna only hummed for a moment. He didn't stir for a moment and you began to wonder if he'd heard you- soon after though, he heaved a sigh and began to peel himself off the floorboards. Meandering over toward the kitchen, he paused before opening the door that connected the rooms- dreading the sweltering air that was sure to greet him on the other side.

"I will face the heat for the both of us." He puffed out his chest and swung the door open, vanishing inside.

You could hear the sound of the fridge, a couple of glasses too, before you were blessed with a perfect idea.

You chirped his name and he appeared back in the doorway. He smiled as he watched your head appear from behind the couch as you craned your neck off the floor.

"Could you grab us some ice cream?"

"Sounds perfect to me!"

He vanished again and you laid your head back on the floor, eyes lazily trained on the ceiling.

It wasn’t long before Nazuna returned. He placed the new glasses of water on the coffee table before seating himself beside you and pouting.

"We're out of ice cream."

The words struck your heart; sharp as a knife, cutting through the layered defense of your emotions and leaving you utterly dejected.

Nazuna had to stifle a laugh as you dramatically deflated on the spot.

"Would you like to go get some ice-cream?"

You sprang upward immediately, rejuvenated with life. "Can we?" You asked, clasping your hands together with such excitement in your eyes it looked as though you'd just won the lottery. He laughed, nodding his head as he helped you to your feet. "It does mean we'll have to go outside in the heat…"

"A worthy sacrifice!"

Outside wasn't actually as bad as you'd first assumed it would be. There was a breeze, at least, and Nazuna had opted to grab an umbrella to keep the direct sun off you during your little walk. You had bottled water to satiate you on the way there too. The scenery was also quite pleasant; beautiful lush trees, arrays of colorful flowers, flittering birds and the quiet hum of the outer city. A good mood had befallen the both of you, you'd even taken to swinging your intertwined hands as you walked.

Soon enough, however, you had reached your destination. As soon as the ice-cream truck had come into view you'd bounded off toward it, Nazuna not far behind. Only a few people were in line, more milled about but it seemed most had decided the heat wasn’t worth bearing for a treat- or perhaps they'd had the forethought to stock up…

Nazuna turned to you, asking what flavour you'd like. You hummed for a bit, reading over the menu multiple times before just deciding to go with your favourite. Nazuna ordered for you and paid. You couldn’t keep the grin off your face as you watched the man scoop your ice-cream and set it in a cone. As soon as they'd placed it on the holder you'd reached up with a cheerful 'Thank you!' and taken your reward.

After Nazuna had gotten his, the two of you found a tree nearby and taken a seat under it.

"What flavour did you get?" You asked between licks. Nazuna hummed for a moment.

"I thought I'd try the Mango one- It's quite good!"

He smiled for a moment- just a moment, before he realized the trap he'd fallen into. You bat your eyes at him. He sighed, holding out his ice-cream toward you. With a cheer you leant over and took a sample of his sorbet. You did have to agree that it was quite nice. It was refreshing- it reminded you of summer… of which was not the current season, but to be honest, this left you almost missing it.

"Here, try some of mine! It's only fair." You held out your ice-cream as Nazuna had done and he smiled, leaning forward to try some. As he did so, you leant forward too and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Nazuna flushed red. His eyes went wide and all he could do was blink owlishly at you. You burst into laughter. He gingerly raised his hand to touch where you had kissed him and once he finally processed, he offered only an adorable pout.

"Careful! Your ice-cream is melting!" At this Nazuna let out a little yelp and quickly went to inspecting his ice-cream, switching hands and trying to lick the melted mess off his fingers. You dug into your pocket and produced some napkins you had stashed away and offered them to him. He accepted them quickly and cleaned up, cheeks still tinted pink.

You spent the rest of the afternoon lounging under that tree, laughing and chatting- you even dozed off for awhile, content with the peace of the day and comfort of your beloved.

Facing the heat really hadn't been so bad.

#nazuna nito x reader #nazuna nito #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #enstars #ensemble stars #admin lemon

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darling-i-read-it · 2 years

Text

Burn

Dennis x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: hand burn, descriptions of pain, i obviously dont condone murder or anything dennis gets into this is fiction and should be treated as such. Also, DID is a completely real illness and should be handled with care. I have a mild form and now how complex it can be. I try to be as accurate as I can to what the movie showcases

Author’s Note: ‘people get exhausted trying to figure me out. And i just let them’ - a tik tok sound and also me never being consistent and writing whatever my little heart desires

Summary: You’re a friend of practically everyone in the system and come over often. You haven’t seen Dennis in a while though which concerns you.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Dennis hadn't been around a lot lately. You had been seeing a lot of Barry, which was fine. You liked that he kept the system mostly level headed, even when one or two slipped through without notice. You had gotten used to the ever changing life of Kevin Wendell Crumb and the completely different personalities that lived inside of him. You had met almost all of them, save for The Beast. He was purposefully kept from you. You didn’t mind much though. If Dennis was slightly intimidated by him, you didn’t need to meet him.

You came around almost everyday to see how everyone was doing. Today you were bringing some groceries to make dinner together. You were hoping to squeeze Hedwig out to help you cook; he always liked to stir the pot.

You knocked on the door lightly, the brown paper bag in your arms. Your face was mostly covered with vegetables. The door opened and you peaked around the corner, noting Barry’s signature hat with a smile.

“You’ve brought plenty of gifts!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “And another horrendous outfit. What are we going to do with you?” He moved aside to the roll of your eyes.

“If you want to change my style you could go shopping with me.”

“I am about to take you up on that offer. What are those? Distressed jeans from the 90s?” You put the bag down on the table, ignoring him. There were spots surrounding the sink from lack of cleaning. You tried not to let the disappointment manifest in your face. It meant Dennis still hadn’t been fronting since you had been here last.

“We could always get you some new clothes as well.”

“When I get a job I will be sure to let you know dear. What goodies did you bring?” He peaked in the bag but you swatted his hand away gently. He feigned hurt.

“I was thinking about making some sort of tacos.”

“You always try to please Hedwig,” Barry noted, rolling his eyes.

“Mm Hedwig’s nice to me.”

“I am nice to you,” he protested. You nodded, putting your hand gently on his back in solidarity.

“I’m sure you try,” you said sarcastically. Barry pursed his lips, shaking his head. You grabbed a rag and cleaned up the spots near the sink before they could bug you anymore. The dirtiness had never really been a problem for you until you started to see Dennis clean everything. You liked to keep his area clean now. Like someone was doing it for him in his absence.

“You couldn’t have favored Ian?” Barry asked quietly, his tone of voice completely changed. You looked up at him, sensing the playfulness had left the atmosphere of the room. You gently put down the rag and cleared your throat.

“It’s a habit,” you muttered quietly.

“He hasn’t been around on purpose you know.”

“I know.”

You started to grab things out of the bag. Barry had his eyes on you. You had always been a close friend of mostly everyone. You hadn’t had a problem with anyone so to speak, just people you didn’t see as often. But you and Dennis had always been the closest. He wasn’t the first to warm up to you but he surely was the first you spoke to consistently.

“I would like to cook if that’s okay,” you said, trying to break up the moment. Barry nodded, shaking his head tastefully at you. You had your back turned when he walked around the back of you and onto your otherside. By the time he got there you could feel the demeanor change. You were no longer talking to Barry.

“This is far too much green,” Hedwig said, picking up some cabbage. You smiled pleasantly.

“I wanted to make tacos.”

“Why did you bring tomatoes and lettuce et cetera?”

“Cause you can put that in tacos. I wasn’t sure who I would be dining with,” you said evenly. “You can stir it.”

“Awesome.”

He settled into an easy movement with you that ensued a lot of general laughs. Hedwig always kept you on your toes. You always enjoyed being around him. He showed you his CD player and you showed him some new CDs you bought, which he loved. He was busy stirring when you noticed a small fire forming at a previously unlit burner.

“Hedwig watch your sleeve,” you said gently.

“I’m fine.”

“Hedwig.” You swatted his hand away and he tried to grab it back which caused you to move forward onto the burner. You screeched, burning your palm. You stumbled back, holding it, the neurons firing in worry. Hedwig was talking but you didn’t hear him because the pain was blinding. Water? Milk? Ice? Something cold. You needed something cold right now.

Hedwig grabbed your hand and opened the ice box, shoving it inside. You felt immediate release, though the pain doesn't subside completely. You breathed evenly after a moment of panic and was able to look back up at your friend.

Hedwig’s eyebrows were knitted and his lips had formed a thin line. You knew the look immediately.

“Dennis?” you asked, voice slightly loopy. He didn’t look at you.

“That was stupid,” he said evenly. “You know better than to hang around an open flame like that. Both of you do.” You could hear the tinge of anger in his voice. Your mind was still clearing, the tears that were pricking your eyes were subsiding.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. He shook his head harshly.

“I’ll get it fixed immediately. It’s faulty.” You could practically hear the shiver down his spine. “It’s a mess.” He stood up, letting your hand go. You nodded, clearing your throat. You grabbed a couple ice cubes and held them in your hands.

“We were making tacos. I was gonna clean up as we went but Hedwig was very quick moving.”

“Always is.” Dennis grabbed a towel and tossed it to you. “Put the ice around that. I’m going to clean this and then find the first aid.” You nodded sheepishly. You felt stupid. You did know better than to do something like this and you had paid the price. Though a part of you felt better now that Dennis was here. He was plating the tacos that were practically made.

He buttoned up the shirt and grabbed his glasses, putting them on smoothly. You quietly opened cabinets in search of some help but he had already found it. He placed the first aid on the counter and continued to clean.

You waited patiently for a couple minutes, ignoring the pain as best you could. Finally he turned to you and took your hand. His touch was chaste and never as gentle as you thought it was going to be but you didn’t mind.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. He shook his head.

“It’s alright,” he finally settled on. He wrapped your hand and put the first aid away silently. You held your hand to your chest, proof that he was actually here.

“Are you okay? I know you haven’t been out lately.”

“I’m fine.”

“I missed seeing you. I see everyone else fairly regularly, even Patricia. I tried to clean for you but she said it was a lost cause. No one does it as spotless as you,” you said in a vain attempt to get him to just look at you. He placed the last napkin filled with loose shredded cheese in the trash and cleaned his hands under water.

Finally he turned around, arms crossed.

“Are you still in pain?”

“A bit, yeah.” You looked down at your hand. He cleared his throat harshly and adjusted his glasses.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He looked at the finished tacos listlessly. “Hedwig can come back. You can eat your food.” “One dish of tacos without Hedwig won’t hurt him. He’ll understand.” Dennis was having a hard time keeping eye contact with you.

“I don’t know if I can stay long,” he admitted. “I jumped in at a crisis, to help Kevin.” You nodded.

“Of course. Just one taco?” He pursed his lips.

“Just one.”

You nodded pleasantly and grabbed your plate, trying to be as neat as possible but still not managing to be as neat as him. You sat down across from each other and you used a fork, something you wouldn't have bothered to do with Hedwig.

“I’ve missed you,” you admitted quietly again. He was quiet for a moment, contemplating words over chewing. He swallowed.

“I suppose I’ve missed you as well.”

You felt a rush in your heart but you tried to contain it.

“You know, you could come out every once in a while. Just so we could see each other,” you suggested. “I’m sure I could make that work with Barry. You have an excellent reading voice.” His lips twitched into an almost smile.

“If you would like to talk to him, I won’t argue.” You nodded once. That wasn’t a no.

“Okay. Wonderful.” You looked down at your still throbbing hand. “Thank you by the way. For this. I don’t think Hedwig would have known what to do.”

“He didn’t.” He reached across the table for it. He examined the wrap job with his thumb, holding his hand in yours. You breathed out evenly and glanced at his face. His eyes were intently staring at your hands. You gently wrapped your fingers around his and he tried not to let it startle him.

“Is that okay?” you whispered.

“Quite.”

#dennis x reader #dennis split x reader #dennis x fem!reader #split dennis x reader #dennis imagines #split dennis imagines

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srorgana1 · 10 months

Text

Into the Reverb (Kylo Ren/reader)

Chapter Twenty

You are angry. Legit angry and hurt. During the meeting, Chewie announced the album release date and party details to the whole team. He stated he wants everyone who worked on the album to attend, all the while staring at you. You wanted to sink into the floor when being called out. Kylo had squeezed your hand in solidarity, but it didn’t help much.

You knew Kylo wanted you to attend. To be on his arm as he spoke with reporters and other attendants. It honestly made you sick at the thought of it. You can see the TMZ tweet already D’Kar employee pukes on Revolver rep’s shoes at KOR release party. No thanks, much rather run into I-10 traffic. You said nothing, eyes focused on the patterns of the table for the rest of the meeting. You could feel eyes on you, awaiting your inevitable blow up.

You left the meeting room quickly when Phasma dismissed everyone. You grab your items quickly, hoping you won’t run into anyone else as you slip out the side door. Turning the corner, you see Chewie’s long body lounging next to the door.

He chuckles as he sees your wide eyes. “You really think I don’t know your escape routes?” he says, pushing himself off the wall. You bristle at his calmness, your hand gripping your bag tighter. “Chewie, cut the shit. You KNOW I don’t go to these things, we talked about it. YOU said it was okay” you grit out. Your head pounds as your anger rises.

You hear him sigh as he runs a hand over his beard. “I know Y/N, but this one is different. We feel since you are primary and have put a lot into this, you need to be present for the release” he says gently. “Why didn’t you tell me this when we talked before?” you snap, fighting the tears behind your eyes. “Um, well this was a recent decision by management” he says looking down at the ground.

It all clicks. “Kylo” you whisper. You don’t wait for the confirmation as you push past Chewie, knocking his bicep with your shoulder as you leave the studio. The pounding at your temple matches the pace of your footsteps as you reach your car.

You open the door of your SUV as you hear Kylo yelling your name. You ignore him as you start the engine. You jump slightly when you find him at your driver’s side window. Damn he’s quick. His eyes were alight and his cheeks pink from running across the parking lot.

Your hands shake in anger as you crack your window. “I recommend you move Kylo” you said flatly. You see his eyes flash as his jaw tightens. “No, we need to talk about this” he says, his baritone voice authoritative.

“No, no we don’t Kylo! You have clearly made decisions regarding this” you say, meeting his hard eyes. “I know you threw your weight around to get them to agree to what you want, but you can’t with me. I WILL NOT be at the fucking release party Kylo. Now move, your band needs you in one piece.”

You fight the pain in your chest as you watch his eyes widen. He takes a step back from the SUV, his shoulders sinking. He nods at you as he runs a hand through his hair. You must stay strong, stick to your guns, you tell yourself as you shift into drive.

As you pull away, you look behind you in a moment of weakness. Kylo is standing where you left him, hands in his hair as he looks at the sky, eyes blinking rapidly. Your heart clinches again as you let out a sob. This proves you two aren’t on the same page and probably will never be.

—

Kylo knew pain well. It was an old friend of his, either from his father’s drunken rages or Snoke’s evil and damaging comments. But this, this took the cake. Watching you rip into him and drive off was like pulling his heart out of his chest and stomping on it. He put a hand on his chest subconsciously just to make sure he was still intact. He sniffed as he fought tears. He turned on his heel, desperate to get his keys and phone so he could break down in private.

As he turns, he sees Vic and Chewie by the back door. By the looks on their faces they knew. He huffed a breath as he walked up to them. Vic silently handed him his effects. “I’ll text you the details of our meeting with Hux” Vic says, eyes shifting between the two men. “Ok thanks man” he says numbly.

As he starts to turn away, Chewie squeezes his shoulder. “You did the right thing, I hope you know that” he says softly. Feeling another pang in his chest, he grits his teeth as he nods.

He thought he and Chewie’s plan was a good one. Having the whole crew there would be a great buffer for you, making you feel more comfortable at the party. Plus, you would have him and the rest of the band.

He just wanted to enjoy the success of all their hard work with the people who made it happen. He doesn’t care about the reporters and journalists being there. He wanted to have fun with his mates and you, play a few songs, drink a little bit, and then afterwards fall asleep with you in his arms.

As he sulks to his car, he knows he fucked up everything. He collapses in the bucket seat, already warm from the sun. He grabs his phone and immediately hits your contact.

He knows he’s a masochist. He knows you will not answer, but he does it anyway. As your recorded voice comes over the speaker, he finally lets out the sob that has been building in his chest. It felt good to let it out. He lets all the pain and anguish out safely enclosed in his expensive car.

He has done this all wrong. He should’ve been open and honest with you, asking you himself to come as his guest. He did it this way because he knew you would say no if he asked you.

Now matters are worse, he thinks as he snuffles, rubbing his swollen eyes. He loves you so fucking much and he like an idiot, didn’t listen. He knew what you weren't comfortable with, but he pushed anyway. His heart rate spikes at the thought of you not wanting anything to do with him anymore.

His phone pings. He looks at it instinctively hoping it’s you. It’s not. It’s his calendar reminder for the tour meeting. He needs to get out of here and compose himself at home.He needs to give you some space tonight and then try and fix this.

As he starts the car, he sends a quick text to Vic. I’m heading out. Let Hux know to contact Sykes’s crew – they are interested, also want Baze. Vic responds with a thumb’s up emoji. He took a deep breath as he pulled out of the parking lot, his heart raw and bleeding.

All aboard the pain/angst train ❤️ continued thanks and love for all those reading and to my girls @asnackdriver, @the-wayward-rose, @thepilotanon, @punk-in-docs, and @ladyzimmerman for their continued love and support ❤️

#adam driver #kylo ren x reader #knights of ren #kylo ren #rockstar! kylo ren #star wars au #kylo x y/n #kylo ren au #kylo fanfic #kylo ren fanfic #star wars

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berenwrites · 1 year

Text

Whole New Us Ch6 - Stranger Things - Steddie

Whole New Us: Trauma Bonded and Beyond

Also on AO3 | Or here CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5 | CH7 | CH8 | CH8 | CH9 | CH10 | CH11 | CH12 | CH13 | CH14 | CH15 | CH16 | CH17 | CH18 | CH19 | CH20 | CH21 | CH22 | CH23 | CH24 | CH25 (Mature) | CH25 (Fade to black) COMPLETE

Summary: Steve has been ignoring his own problems, he’s been busy. They’ve all been busy, preoccupied with fixing everything that was broken. Vecna has been defeated, but the Upside Down is still there, and the gates are not completely closed even though Hawkins has almost returned to normal. It’s been a couple of months and the aftereffects of Steve’s encounter with the demobats is about to come back to bite him. However, it also brings some unexpected hope.

Pairing: steddie (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson)

Rating: Teen (with mature content in later chapters)

Chapter 6. Battle Form

Eddie was ensconced on the couch with a blanket over his legs, since apparently Steve’s mothering instincts were in full force, and he had insisted. He was sitting next to Eddie because he couldn’t get more than about four feet away without Eddie losing focus. However, he’d taken to ordering the kids around and refusing to answer any questions until everyone was settled, they all had drinks, and food was ordered.

He could have cried when Robin came over to sit the other side of him in a show of solidarity, he wouldn’t have blamed her for not making.

The boys and El were crowded onto the other couch with Nancy perching on the end, and Hopper had an armchair. It was almost civilised, but there were teenage boys involved, so not quite.

“Okay,” Steve said once everyone was settled, “questions?”

That resulted in a shouting match as all the boys tried to talk over each other in their excitement.

“One at a time,” Hopper growled from his chair, which had the required reaction.

“Steve, how did you move so fast?” Mike asked when the other two appointed him spokesman.

“Best guess, demobat blood,” he replied. “I swallowed some when we fought them off the first time. It’s been changing me ever since, but with everything going on I didn’t notice until…”

“This week,” Lucas finished for him, having joined the dots.

He nodded.

“I freaked out and went to El,” Steve admitted.

“He’s not dangerous,” El said, giving him a sweet smile.

She didn’t look one hundred percent sure when her eyes flicked to Eddie, but then she hadn’t been in Eddie’s mind. Steve made a mental note to deal with that sooner rather than later.

“Thanks,” he said, giving her a smile back.

“And Eddie got this too?” Mike asked.

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, “just don’t ask for a demo or I will fall on my ass and then Steve will worry.”

Steve rolled his eyes but let him get away with that one. He couldn’t help that his instincts had been turned up to ten when it came to Eddie.

Dustin was frowning, clearly puzzling something out.

“It’s not just the speed is it?” the kid said eventually.

“Nope,” Eddie said somewhat unhelpfully.

Steve gave Eddie a look, but all he got back was an unrepentant smile. Eddie was clearly not forgiving him for the blanket for a while. With a sigh, Steve picked up the thick, hardback coffee table book about mountains from where he had dumped it because he hated the thing and casually tore it in half crossways. The spine ripped apart right across the middle in a very satisfying way.

“Wow,” Dustin said.

“What else?” Mike all but demanded.

Looking back at Eddie, Steve asked the obvious question with his eyes.

“Might as well show them your battle form, Stevie,” Eddie said as way of an answer.

“Battle form?” Lucas asked.

“What does that mean?” Dustin asked at the same time.

“Do not freak out,” Steve said, slowly standing up.

He was not sure why he stood, maybe to subconsciously give himself an escape route, but he took a deep breath, so he didn’t chicken out. Glancing at El, who gave him one of her small smiles, he took another breath and let the otherness inside out.

“Son of a bitch,” Dustin said, staring at him with his mouth open. Steve was dying inside, until Dustin went on: “that is so cool.”

Rather than sending Dustin running in the other direction, the kid actually came towards him, and all Steve could do was stare in shock. He belatedly realised that probably looked really weird with red eyes. Lucas and Mike seemed a little more surprised, but Dustin grabbed his hand so he could look at the claws more closely. Steve just let him.

Then the questions began, and boy did the kids have a lot of questions. Eddie giggled, honest to God giggled as Steve flailed at the onslaught. Steve got really good at saying, “I don’t know” and he was pretty sure the boys were cooking up some kind of testing regime among themselves. What was scarier, however, was the way Nancy was looking at him with her analysing face, even though she didn’t ask any questions herself. Thankfully the food arrived and gave everyone something else to think about.

~*~

Eddie fell asleep after everyone had eaten, so Nancy took the boys home, while Hopper, El and Robin stayed. Once Steve was sure Eddie was sleeping comfortably, as Hopper and El talked quietly, Steve shared a look with Robin and headed into the kitchen. When the door closed behind them, he didn’t turn. There was so much he wanted to say, but he had no idea how to do it.

“Hey, Dingus,” Robin said, walking up behind him and placing her hand on his back, “you okay?”

A short bark of a laugh escaped him at that.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” he replied, finally looking at her.

“Think it’s okay if we ask each other,” she told him with a tiny smile. “So, are you going to answer or just avoid the question?”

He did his best to smile back, but it felt kind of twisted.

“No, I’m not okay,” he admitted. “I’ve never been this scared in my life. Not with demogorgons, not with mind-flayers, not even with Vecna. With them I thought I might die, but with this. I’m the guy with the bat or the axe, Robs, I’m ordinary.”

Robin’s hand was gentle on his back as she began to rub slow circles and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he rambled on. “I needed to figure out what was going on, and then I needed … wanted … I was afraid there might be something of that bastard in me. I thought I might be a monster. I couldn’t take that risk, so I went to El.”

“And you let her rummage around inside your head to make sure,” Robin finished for him when he ran out of words.

He nodded.

“And when she told you what is utterly obvious to all of us who know you, then you let yourself worry about Eddie rather than you,” she added.

“We left him there, Robs,” he said as the guilt hit him again. “He was all alone. I’ve been dreaming about him for months.”

“You couldn’t have known it was real,” Robin told him, moving to make him look at her. “We all have nightmares, some of them memories, some of them trippy-shit our wrecked subconscious minds make up because we all have more trauma than anyone our ages should[SD1] . You would never have left him there if you thought there was any chance and the moment you suspected he might be alive, even though you’re dealing with a fuck tonne of shit yourself, you went back. No one could ask for more.”

He didn’t know what to say. No matter what, he couldn’t shift the guilt.

“I’ve never been afraid of myself before,” he admitted quietly. “I’m so strong, Robin, so fast. What if I hurt one of the kids without meaning to? Or my craving for red meat takes over?”

“Are you afraid of Eddie?” Robin asked, rather than answering his question.

“No,” he replied with a frown, “of course not. Eddie would never hurt anyone.”

“Neither would you, Dingus,” she told him, tapping him on the forehead. “We’re all capable of terrible things. I could get in a car tomorrow and mow down pedestrians all along main street. Nancy could get one of her guns and take pot shots at everyone she doesn’t like. Hell, El could rip apart anyone she felt like with her mind. But we won’t, and neither will you.”

“How do you know?” he asked, tone hard edged and desperate.

“Because you’re one of the kindest most giving people I know,” Robin said while looking directly into his eyes. “You can be a total bitch when you want to be, but that’s one of my favourite things about you. Steve, you open your house regularly to a bunch of teenagers you used to babysit. You cook for them for god’s sake. You let Hopper and El stay here while the cabin was being repaired. You faced off against Billy Hargrove for Lucas, you took a beating by the Russians to save me. You ferry anyone who asks all over town, and if anyone so much as has a hangnail, you drop everything to rescue them. The only thing this new part of you means is you might actually win a fight without coming back with concussion or bits of you missing.”

Robin was waving her arms for emphasis by the time she finished.

“Now give me a hug,” she demanded.

So, he did. Robin hugged back ridiculously hard, which was just what he needed. When she finally drew back, he was feeling a bit more settled.

“Okay, so now, show me,” Robin said. “I only got to see from the back in there.”

“You’re sure?” he asked because he couldn’t imagine frightening her.

Robin simply raised an eyebrow back. Knowing better than to argue with Robin when she was in that kind of mood, Steve did as he was asked. He braced for disgust or horror, but all he saw was curiosity.

“The eyes are really pretty,” Robin said with a smile. “Bet you’d pull a load of girls with those if, y’know, it wouldn’t get you in ridiculous amounts of trouble with the government types. How the hell do these claws work?”

He let her examine his fingers, allowing the claws to retract slowly, rather than as fast as he had learned to do it.

“Dustin’s right, that is cool,” she assured him. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he replied, “just feels really weird, but not a weird as the teeth. That’s almost like they’re trying to pop out.”

Of course Robin wanted to see the teeth, so he showed her. What he really didn’t expect was her to lean in close after he retracted the fangs again and reach out.

“Wow,” she said, pushing his lip up and out the way so she could see properly, “those are adorable.”

Definitely not the word he would have chosen.

“Watch out they’re…” he started to say, but it was too late.

“Ow,” Robin said, snatching back her finger and sticking it in her mouth. “Let me guess, you were going to say really sharp.”

Steve would have replied, but he made the mistake of licking his lips. The flavour of blood burst onto his tongue as the sense of Robin hit him like a two-by-four to the face. There was worry and love and curiosity and so much more. All he could do was gasp through it as it was there and gone.

“Steve, hey, Steve,” Robin said, immediately reaching out to steady him. “You good?”

Doing his best to breathe deeply, he patted her hand in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. It took a few seconds to get his brain back in gear.

“You bled on me,” he said, in way of explanation.

“Oh shit,” she said around the finger in her mouth, “I’m so sorry. Did it set you off your eat-now instincts? Need a bit more? I mean it’s still bleeding.”

He huffed out a laugh as she babbled at him.

“I’m fine,” he promised, “it was just … um … intense, I guess. I got a hit of you.”

“You saw into my head?” she asked, eyes widening.

“Not exactly,” he did his best to explain. “It was more like a sense of everything you’re feeling, and wow do you feel a lot.”

“Yeah,” Robin agreed, “but then you already knew that about me.”

Steve nodded, it was kind of obvious.

“I’ve never got a hit off blood before,” he admitted. “Human blood must be different.”

“Species synchronicity,” Robin said as if that made any sense.

“If you say so,” Steve let her have that one even if he only had a vague idea of what she was getting at.

They talked for a while longer before Steve found himself looking back at the door to the other room.

“You okay, Dingus?” Robin asked, since he had stopped mid-sentence.

“Yeah,” he said, frowning, before a little spark of fear shot up his spine. “Eddie,” he said, because he realised very quickly it wasn’t his fear. “Sorry,” he said, but he was already on the move.

Eddie was still curled up on the couch where Steve had left him and he looked as if he was sleeping calmly, but Steve knew different. He crossed the room quickly, although not ridiculously fast and knelt down.

“Eddie,” he said quietly and gently, reaching out and resting his fingers lightly on Eddie’s neck.

Red eyes flicked open at the first touch, fading quickly to brown as Eddie blinked back to consciousness.

“Hey,” Steve said, “you were having a nightmare.”

“Hmm,” Eddie agreed, still half asleep. “Back there.”

“Yeah, had a few of those over the years,” he replied. “Come on, I know just what helps.”

Gently pulling Eddie up a bit in his blanket cocoon, Steve insinuated himself onto the couch, pulling Eddie against him so they were both comfortable.

“You just want me as a cuddle toy,” Eddie complained sleepily.

“You keep telling yourself that, Munson,” Steve replied, but Eddie was already relaxing against him and falling back into slumber.

Robin came over and sat down on the carpet.

“How did you know?” she asked quietly.

“He’s in my head,” Steve told her honestly, “like faint background noise unless we’re touching, but when he’s afraid or hurting it’s clearer. I felt the beginning of a nightmare, y’know how they start with that dread.”

Robin nodded. They all knew nightmares. Patting him on the knee, she made herself comfortable and Steve glanced up at El and Hopper who were watching them. El gave him another one of her smiles, after all she was one of the few people who could remotely relate. He smiled back and let himself relax with Eddie cradled against him.

End of Chapter 6

Chapter 7

#stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie lives #stranger things #st: whole new us #fanfic #post season 4 #vampires #kind of vampires #hurt/comfort

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