#and u just freeze because !!!! random kindness!!!! so u say thank you and smile and now you both exchanged names and I am v v soft | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lacharcutiere · 3 years

Text

ur my favorite drug & my worst hangover [nsfw 18+, terushima yūji]

5,9k words

✯haikyuu!! masterlist✯

winter sem break brings the new year, & a few other new developments too.

smut, tiny bit of angst, fwb, fluff // quit - lil aaron & travis barker. god this song goes so hard

the way all i talk abt is how much i love teru but have nothing to show for it— yeah we’re gonna fix that. man i love him

☾𓆙𓂻

— SOBER

the soft hum of the tv in the background slowly fades into your awareness as you blink blearily awake, almost forgetting where you are for a second.

you’re in yūji’s living room, duh. your semestral break has not been nearly as interesting as either of you’d hoped: instead, you’ve both succumbed to alternating between each other’s childhood homes, binging netflix and random youtube videos and eating chips and tubs of ice cream late into the night, as has been your custom for years.

it’s dim but for the glow of the screen, and it’s kind of chilly in here now, even with you wrapped up in a hoodie. (yours, not yūji’s. you only borrow his in emergencies.)

he’s not next to you now, but his footsteps—you know them by now: quick and kind of heavy but not overbearingly loud—are entering the room again, and you feel the sofa cushions dip a little as he retakes his seat next to you.

“hey,” he says, smiling, “you’re awake.”

“hmmph,” you mumble, sitting upright to stretch your back. “what time is it?”

“uh.” he squints at the digital clock next to the tv. “like one?”

“‘m cold.”

“me too.”

“‘nd tired.”

“you just woke up?”

“i’m tired,” you whine.

yūji groans. “you’re really gonna make me go to sleep this early?”

“you don’t have to sleep, but i will.”

“yeah,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “but who’s gonna keep me company then?”

“i dunno,” you shoot back, “text tetsu or something. he’s probably still up.”

he rolls his eyes but relents, standing from the sofa. “fine.” and he holds out a hand to help you up, which you don’t take.

“i can do shit for myself,” you joke, rolling your eyes.

“right.”

—

it’s not much warmer in his room despite the thermostat supposedly being set to an acceptable temperature, but at least the sleeping bag on the floor next to yūji’s bed is insulated, and he’s given you a couple extra blankets for which you’re grateful. the biting chill of january does not fuck around.

so you nestle yourself into a little cocoon of linens and pillows and pull your hood up, curling into a ball in an effort to conserve your body heat. you hear him laugh a little as he watches you.

“what?”

“nothing.”

there’s the light hum of a phone ringing a few times, and that little beep as tetsu picks up the facetime call.

sleep clouds your senses to the background music of stifled laughter and loud whispers and the occasional static of yūji’s phone speaker.

— BUT U PULLED ME CLOSER

the next few minutes, hour—you have no idea—pass just like that, with you drifting languidly in and out of sleep and the sounds of yūji and tetsurō’s voices audible but incomprehensible in the background.

last you remember, you’re slipping back under again, hearing tetsu through the staticky iphone speaker.

and then you wake up again because you’re fucking freezing and it’s quiet and the lights are off, except for the little reading light mounted to the headboard of yūji’s bed. you sit up on your elbows, craning your neck, and see that he’s still up, lying on his stomach with his phone dimly illuminating his face.

“what time’s it?” you mumble.

“uh... 2:38.” he pauses. “y’alright?”

“cold,” you say.

he locks his phone then, and he just looks at you kind of blankly and maybe a little mockingly? except it must not be mocking; it must be something else, because he’s just kind of... studying you.

you look back up at him expectantly. “what?” you say.

he sighs, kind of rolls his eyes, turns away from the light to hide the little smile playing on his lips. “come on up here.” he scoots over and pats the spot next to him.

thankful for an extra source of body heat and blankets and pillows, you shove yourself up off the ground and shuffle over to the bed.

it’s kind of funny, the way you’re basically adults now and yet your relationship’s still fundamentally the same as it was when you met years ago.

—

duh, yūji hates that. it’s true, that whole thing about how “every one of your guy friends has thought about fucking you at some point.” it’s true, at least for him.

and there’s something electric in how you haven’t slept next to him in months because you’ve both been busy with school, and now you’re back here. back here, where it feels like you belong.

there’s something deep in his chest that’s set aflame by the way you laugh and let him tuck the comforter over you; the way your sweatpant-covered legs brush against his own underneath it.

he wants to touch you.

he wants to wrap his hand around your thigh and pull it over his own; to run his fingertips up the length of your arm and make you shiver; to snake his around your waist and pull your head into his chest.

maybe he will once you’re asleep, he figures. once his pride can’t be hurt because you don’t have to know.

except... except he’d let it be hurt for you. without a moment’s hesitation. he would shatter it himself for you, would let you take him in your fingers and rip him to pieces too small to be puzzled back together.

because maybe he doesn’t just want you. maybe he loves you.

but even he, completely truthfully, doesn’t know.

he’s got a sneaking suspicion that he does, though, because he’s rarely confused and this is an enigma he can’t quite seem to decipher, no matter what he tries.

it’s absurd, too, he realizes laying on his back next to you, how suddenly he’s afraid to touch you. because the two of you have always been touchy, that’s just you. you’re two halves; you’re so similar. you’ve been attached at the hip since childhood—why is it different now, now that he wants that more than anything?

so here he is, spiraling in this conundrum of feelings, when it’s cut short by you, tiredly whining, “yūji.”

“what?” he sort of feigns annoyance.

“‘m cold.”

“and?”

and. and his breath catches because you roll over and latch onto him. and he brings his arms around your shoulders and holds you to his chest.

so close, and yet so far away.

and he shudders as you lay one hand flat on his chest. it belongs there forever.

you nuzzle your nose into his shoulder and inhale his scent and his brain short-circuits.

has she done this before?

and mostly unconscious, you mumble, “—warm. y’re pretty’.” his eyes go wide.

“what?”

your arms tighten around him, and he’d hate to admit it, but it’s setting him off. he’s... a little hard.

a hand settles itself on your thigh, the one that’s draped over his legs, and he pushes it downward a little, so that it’s not resting next to the rising erection in his pajama pants.

god, he wants to fuck you so badly right now, he wants for you to feel him throbbing between your legs as you whimper against his skin. but he also wants you to want him.

miraculously, a little sigh escapes your lips at the touch. so he doesn’t move his hand.

“feels nice,” you whisper.

so he decides to test the waters, and squeezes gently. you giggle sleepily.

inhibitions dissipating for a moment, his stomach leaps to his chest and he snakes that hand up over your hip, consciously avoiding your ass just in case, and rests it on your back, rubbing up and down slowly.

his chest constricts as you snuggle even closer to him. and then your leg moves back up and your thigh nudges his crotch.

your eyes snap open and he inhales sharply.

and then you’re propped up on your elbow, leaning over him.

he curses himself for forgetting to turn off the light; the flush in his cheeks is obvious.

half terrified and half excited, he watches as your face breaks into a wide, shit-eating grin.

“what?” he breathes.

your eyes narrow; a look of mischief he’s so familiar with, one that’s often mirrored on his own features. (it’s not now.)

“yūji,” you say, singsong and bright, “what’s this?”

and—oh, god, oh, fuck—you bring a hand down to rest on his dick, tenting in his pajamas.

he doesn’t know what to say to you.

“i— uhm—”

“hmm,” you hum. “y’ alright?”

he clears his throat, nods. “are— uh, are you?”

“mhm,” you laugh, wide awake now. “yūji...” you pause. he can’t stand it; he needs to know what happens next, needs to know what’s fanning the flames behind your eyes.

oh god. oh god, all he leaves is a breath in between and then you’re throwing your leg over him again and, fuck, you’re straddling him. he lets out a shaky breath, voice tight as he chokes out, “what are you doing?”

the smile is gone from your face now, replaced with something softer, something lustful. your hands move to his shoulders to balance yourself as you grind your hips down, and a low ahh slips out of him.

it’s just like that, just your clothed bodies rubbing together. he comes embarrassingly quickly in his boxers, but he lets you ride his thigh until you finish as recompense.

afterward, he excuses himself and cleans himself off in the bathroom. when he comes back, you’re sound asleep again.

that’s all that happens.

— UR GONNA FUCK ME UP

following that, everything proceeds as it had before. neither of you bother to speak of it, but nothing even seems off between you at all. it’s as if it never happened.

or maybe, yūji sometimes allows himself to think as he touches himself to the memory in the middle of nights when you’re not together, it’s like it was meant to happen.

what a wonderful illusion that is.

because he knows it won’t work, and if you ever thought about him like that, you would know, too.

the two of you have watched each other fall in love—get dumped, ghost people, whatever—several times over the past few years. he remembers your first boyfriend, your last year of middle school: the guy had been a mutual friend that you’d been crushing on for months. and yet, when you’d finally become a thing, it had taken no more than a couple of weeks for you to grow uninterested and dump him.

it’s not like he hasn’t done similar things in the past.

and it’s not like some people who’ve dated either of you haven’t had better luck; there have been several who have been the ones to break your hearts.

but both of you have yet to have maintained a long-term relationship, and neither of you have kept in contact with many of your exes.

he doesn’t want to be another one of those, and he certainly doesn’t want you to be, either.

—

it’s maybe a week after that night when you pick him up to go get takeout and ice cream.

that, in itself, is a pretty normal thing.

but then you’re sitting in your car, and between spoonfuls of mocha chip and hot caramel, you say, “so i saw this thing.”

“hm?” he responds, his mouth still full.

“your aura is striking, dude,” you quote. there’s a pause as you try to suppress a giggle. and then: “can i kiss you deeply, bro?”

he snorts and jokes, “anytime you want.” and he really hopes that you take his tone at face value, but he also knows you way better than that.

so he’s only half surprised when you actually do. half surprised, and wholly in awe.

your hands are in each other’s hair. it’s quick—feverish, but quick—and the first thing you say when you pull back is, “tastes like sugar.”

he laughs again, unsure of what move to make next. “yeah?”

and then you’re... shy? because you look away from him, back down to the cup of ice cream in your lap, and you say, “you feel good.” it’s so low that it’s almost unintelligible. but he hears you.

both your faces are burning when you look back up at him. “should we talk about that?”

“‘bout what? kissing? ‘s not the first time.”

it isn’t—he kissed you once in middle school, because there was this other girl that he’d thought was pretty, and he wanted to make her jealous. it hadn’t worked; she’d just thought the two of you were together, and a teacher had scolded you for pda. but at least it had been a fun story to laugh at for a while after.

this is obviously different, though, and you both know that. this kiss wasn’t to make anyone jealous. this one was for yourselves.

and anyway, that’s not what you meant by that.

“no,” you say. “the um... last week. at your place.”

“oh, yeah.”

“should we, um, do you wanna talk about it?”

“d’you?”

you shrug.

“alright,” he says. pauses. “so... what was that about?”

and you almost laugh incredulously. “you’re asking me?”

he stares blankly.

“you’re the one who got a boner when we were cuddling, yūji. as if we’ve never done that before.” you notice the mortified look on his face, and your expression softens and your voice lowers. “you wanna tell me what that was about? you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

and he laughs nervously and says, “no, no, ‘s fine. i was just kinda horny, that’s all. i haven’t hooked up with anyone in a while, y’know?”

you give him a sardonic grin. “and that’s why it only took you, like, three minutes to come?”

“yeah... yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

a moment passes where you stop and think for a little, and then you turn back to look at him. “it was, uh, good, though. like, objectively. it was good.”

it’s his turn to flash a grin at you: “‘course it was. it’s me.”

“and me.”

“shoulda won the sex gods superlative in last year’s yearbook.”

“ha.” another thing crosses your mind: “and now look at us. too busy with school to even have time to fuck anyone.”

yūji doesn’t say anything, so you do it for him.

you start out carefully. “but...”

“but?”

“do you— i mean. we’ve got, like, what? three weeks left before we go back? and we’re stuck here. and— and we already hang out like every single day anyway, and. uh. and it was objectively good.”

“are you—”

“and i’ve known you for years. come on. there’s, like, nothing i could do to embarrass myself around you anymore.”

friends with benefits. you’re suggesting that you temporarily be friends with benefits.

“and it wasn’t weird after last time,” you add. “i think.”

“hm,” he says, “yeah, no, it wasn’t.”

his first instinct is to say no, to tell you it’s a bad idea. but as he thinks about it more, he realizes that you’re kind of right. and anyway, what is the worst that could happen? because he’s pretty sure he’s far gone enough for you that falling a little further wouldn’t change a thing. even if he weren’t, he’d never think of hurting you intentionally.

and, he figures, he’d hardly mind being hurt by you.

—

that is how you end up back in his bed an hour later—his parents are out on a date this evening; you’ve got until a few hours past sundown to fuck and clean yourselves off and make it look like you’ve been eating and talking and watching tv the whole time.

outside of the guise of midnight impulses, it is a strange—but also strangely pleasant—thing to be having sex with your best friend.

there’s no pretense, hardly any need to keep up appearances (at least, for you). you’re not strangers only concerned with your own pleasure; you know each other. despite never actually having done this before, he already knows what you like, and vice versa.

it’s nice.

it’s nice to hear him laugh when you whine for him to stop being so gentle, vanilla-ass bitch, only to have him call you a “horny little—” (to which you respond, no, you.)

and it’s nice to sleep with someone who reads all the cues you give him without you even needing to say anything.

it is possibly the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.

it is possibly the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, and... it might not be just because of the dynamic between you two, or the fact that you don’t have to be afraid to tell him what you like and what you don’t—the fact that you don’t even have to tell him at all.

it’s nice. for you. and it’s hell for him.

it’s hell for him to have to hold back all the sweet nothings he wants to whisper in your ear—he’s restricted to you like that, huh, baby? and fuuuck and god, you’re so fucking tight, and he knows you’re into it, but he wants to be treating you like a princess right now. he wants to call you his, wants to whisper, tell me you’re all mine against your bare shoulders, wants to tell you he loves you.

so... he does love you.

but he can’t say that. he knows he can keep you around, but you’re not his to keep.

—

it continues like that for the next several days: you fuck, it’s good sex, and he’ll touch himself to the memories if you’re not there: memories of how you taste, of the softness of your skin, of you with your legs around his waist and your bare chests pressed together, damp and warm with sweat.

it is so gratifying, and even more painful.

and then, one day, as he’s fucking you in your childhood bedroom—all white walls covered in sketches and colorful postcards you’ve accumulated over the years—something is slightly off.

there’s something about it that feels more intimate than the other times, and it goes slower than before. it’s not all lust and clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor and bodies shoved hurriedly into mattresses.

you kiss him for a long time before any clothing comes off, and you keep pulling him back to your lips as he thrusts into you. you’re not urging him faster, more, harder; you let him keep a steady pace and arch your back into the sheets as you lie underneath him.

it hits him as you come down from your orgasm and writhe in his arms, softly moaning, “god, yūji, i l—”

he stops.

“don’t say that,” he says.

still shaking and catching your breath, you respond, “what?”

“just don’t.” but his tone is casual, and so you don’t think much of it.

—

you don’t hook up every time you hang out, and yeah. you were right. it’s hardly different than before. except, isn’t it?

you’re sitting on opposite sides of your sofa one morning after your parents have left for work—he slept over the previous night, but you didn’t have sex. you’d spent it laughing over the dumbest things and blasting music as you drove around without a destination.

your’re sitting with your knees pulled against your chest, scrolling lazily on your phone while you and yūji eat handfuls of cereal straight from the box between you.

it’s mostly quiet for once; comfortably silent. neither of you have ever really been a morning person.

— BUT U KNOW I LIKE IT

the ice cracks a little when he stops shoving your hand away to grab himself another handful of cereal. you notice, and then you wonder if you always noticed little things like that, because it feels kind of weird to. not that you mind.

meanwhile, yūji watches you, studying the way your hair falls messily around your face, the way one sleeve of your sweatshirt is rolled halfway up your forearm and the other is pulled all the way over your hand.

the living room is bright, surrounded by windows, and you’re illuminated by light yellow late-morning sunlight all around and he feels safe looking at you.

the ice cracks a little more when he says your name softly.

“hm?” you say, confusedly looking up at him.

“nothing,” he answers, too quickly. “i’m just... happy right now.”

you smile, radiant. “i’m glad you are.”

—

in the afternoon, you’ve grown bored and are wandering the streets of your neighborhood, voicing thoughts and pointing out people you pass by.

it’s still early, but it’s january, so the sun is already beginning to set.

when you’re a couple minutes out from your house, yūji goes quiet, and it stays like that for the rest of the walk.

and then, as he stands next to you while you unlock the door, he blurts, “i have to tell you something.”

you freeze. “what?”

it’s silent for a bit. “never mind.”

“yūji—”

“it’s okay,” he says softly.

he wants to shrink away from your gaze as you study him. he knows you know there’s something amiss, and second thoughts have almost always been his own personal hell.

graciously, though, you don’t ask. and it’s like stepping through a portal when you’re back inside; it’s all forgotten and back to how it was before.

—

but: a little while later, you’re lying side-by-side on your bed watching netflix again, and for whatever reason you turn to look at him for a moment and it’s just—

you can’t look away. and you don’t know why.

he can feel your eyes on him and it burns, and he wonders how much longer he can keep this up before he loses his mind.

when he doesn’t turn to face you, you call his name softly.

“hm?”

after an uncomfortable moment of hesitation, you say, “something’s up.”

“what?”

“yūji,” you repeat, and he forgets to breathe for a second. “are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

the mattress shifts under his weight as he sits up, resting his head in his hands. he takes a deep breath and can’t bring himself to meet your eyes.

“what’s wrong?” it sounds less like a question and more like a plea.

“i—” he starts, and then stops himself. “i can’t, i can’t do this to you.”

“can’t do what?”

there’s a painful silence, heavy with anticipation and maybe a little bit of dread.

“i don’t wanna keep hooking up with you.”

you sit up, too.

“did i...? do something wrong?”

he shakes his head and sighs, and he sounds exasperated. “it’s... no, it’s— i think...” and he seems to grow more frustrated as he fails to verbalize whatever it is, this strange cold fire stinging in the pit of his stomach.

“what do you think?” you whisper.

and he stands and walks to the door. his hand rests on the knob and he whispers back, in a voice that sounds precariously close to breaking, “you, when i... y’know. ’m sorry.”

and he’s gone.

and you have no idea what to think, both of what he just said and the fact that it sends an excited buzz through your nerves, even though it probably shouldn’t.

— IT'S HARD N IT'S HARDER TO ADMIT

his words are stuck in your head all night, have you caught somewhere in between laughing and crying.

you want to call him, ask him what the fuck is going on and why you think you kind of like it, but you don’t.

but when you look over at your alarm clock to see that it’s 2:00 a.m. and sleep refuses to let you succumb to it and you relent to the warm emptiness between your legs, it’s yūji whom you imagine is there to fill it.

you think of the way his tongue trails down the expanse of your neck, the way he feels inside you, as you whine into your pillow and desperately try to make yourself come.

it doesn’t even occur to you until later, when you’re waking up to sunlight slicing through your half-open blinds. and then it does, and you text him: i do that too.

he doesn’t text back, but ten minutes later, your phone rings. he sounds breathless.

“be here in ten,” he says.

you pause. “okay.”

and you are. he throws open the door as he hears your car pull up and jogs out to meet you, and all he gives you is a quick, “hey,” before dragging you inside.

there’s no one else home, so he motions for you to have a seat at the kitchen table and takes the one next to you.

“do what too?”

“what?”

“what you texted me.”

you look down, studying the seams of your sleeve and feeling your breathing go shallow.

“do what too?” he repeats.

and softly, you say, “want you.”

yūji stands, pulling you to your feet with him. “want me how?”

your eyes are wide and a little bit sad as you stare up at him. “i don’t know.”

then he cracks a tiny smile. “good,” he says, “i don’t either.

except he does.

he wants you every way, your presence, your time, your body, your fucking soul, all of it. but he doesn’t say that.

when you kiss him, he implodes, melts into your arms as if he’s trying to fuse your bodies together. but he says nothing of it.

the feeling of your wrist in his hand, the sound of your giddy giggles as he leads you to his bedroom—for now, that’s enough.

he takes it slow.

when he’s shut the door and ensured it’s locked, he turns to find you’ve already tossed your top on the floor.

a smile meets yours, gentle fingertips on your cheek, a soft whisper against your hair: “put it back on; i wanna do it myself.”

and you laugh and oblige, shivering at the now-familiar sensation of the warm metal bead on his tongue against your lip as his hand finds its way to your ass and squeezes gently.

“yūji,” you whisper.

“i like it when you say my name like that,” he murmurs into your shoulder, rubbing gently up and down your back underneath your shirt.

“hmm,” comes your contented response.

and then his fingers are rubbing gently against the hem of your shirt, easing it up to reveal your body inch by inch, and you shiver a little under his feather-light touch.

lifting your arms up, you allow him to slip your shirt back over your head, and then his hands are all over you again, squeezing your breasts through your bra and tracing lines up and down the center of your back. the little metal ball on his tongue presses against your lower lip. you tug at the hem of his hoodie, and he pulls it off.

the feeling of his skin on yours is nothing new now, and yet this time, there’s a certain nuance to it that he can’t place.

he wonders how you want him again; can’t stop wondering as you lead his hand down to the button on your jeans, laughing a little as he kneels at your feet to unzip them.

as he pulls them slowly down your legs he lines your thighs with little, butterfly-soft kisses, murmuring unintelligible praises.

when you’re left in only your bra and panties, he wraps his arms around your waist and falls backward onto the mattress, taking you down with him. you sit up a little, so that you’re straddling him, and he lets out a low sigh.

“you are fucking incredible,” he breathes as you suck gently at his neck, leaving light marks that will have faded by tomorrow.

your fingers trace the dips between his abs, tantalizingly, eventually making their way all the way down his stomach to the waistband of his sweats, and then a little further, palming his dick through them and feeling how fucking hard he is.

he groans a little, says, “please don’t tease me,” as you continue to do exactly that, but he doesn’t stop you.

when you shift a little so that you’re positioned right over him, soaking panties rubbing a tiny little wet spot into the tent of his erection, he sits up and gathers your body into his arms, lips and tongue moving against yours as one hand unclips your bra while the other settles itself on your hip, grinding you down against him. you press your thighs together at this feeling of pure need you’re experiencing and he pulls his mouth away and looks you in the eye.

“may i?” he whispers, and you smile and nod, laughing as he rolls you off of him to rid himself of the rest of his clothes and dig a condom out of his bedside table, which he hands to you.

you’re impatient as you tear it open but force yourself to roll it onto him slowly, studying his face as he revels in the feeling of your fingers grazing lightly against his dick.

once it’s on, he flips you over again, laughing, and exhales slowly as he slides your panties down your legs and tosses them somewhere on the floor to be found later. his fingertips ghost gently down the sides of your thighs as he bends down to lick a long stripe between your legs and across your clit.

“fuck,” you breathe as he groans softly against your skin, the vibrations sending an electrifying buzz up your spine.

he presses his tongue flat against you, metal bar circling your clit teasingly, and then he pulls away and groans, “sit on my face,” his words hurried and slurred with lust.

so you let him move to lie on his back and straddle his face, giggling as he wraps his hands around your thighs to pull you closer.

“aw, don’t be shy, i thought that’s the whole point of this,” he says.

and then his mouth is back on you again, tongue flicking slowly and carefully, taking in your every response, and soon he’s got you shaking on top of him, grasping at the headboard and his shoulders and tangling your fingers in his hair.

he keeps going after you’ve already finished, making you writhe and whimper, only letting go of you once he’s satisfied.

he pushes you backward so that you’re still sitting with your knees on either side of him and he sits up, leaning back against the headboard. his lips are on yours, then, and he’s pulling your hips to his, the head of his cock nudging ever-so-lightly against your entrance.

“quit teasing me,” you whine when he grips your waist, refusing to let you sit yourself on his dick.

“i’m not.”

“yes you are!”

“‘m not,” he mumbles, smiling, as he draws his lips down the curve of your left shoulder and back up again. “i’m savoring the moment.”

you huff. “you can savor it with your cock in me.” and yūji does his best not to show it, but the high he gets from those words alone, from knowing how desperate you are for him, even if it’s just for his body, sends him straight to heaven. because regardless of how much of him you want, it’s still only him that you want in this moment, and right now that’s enough.

you allow him to move at his own pace, his movements slow, languid as he holds you to his chest, one hand around your waist and the other reaching up to tangle his fingers in your hair. he lets himself say the things he wants now.

“kiss me?” he whispers, and you oblige happily. you taste like him, and he’s so content he could lose his mind.

instead he loses himself to you, shaky breaths between “god, you’re so good,” and “you have no idea… how long i’ve waited… for you to want me like this.” there’s a single thing he holds back from saying, but he still plans on saying it. he’s just saving it for the right moment.

you’re drunk off of him, your body shuddering against him with every touch of his skin to yours, not knowing what to say and yet feeling as if you know everything you’ve ever needed to. and you say it for him.

“i love you.”

the words are barely there, just a breath against his lips as you kiss him, and it’s too much for him. he finishes with something akin to a sob, taking your face into his hands. “i love you,” he responds. and then, “say it again? please?”

you close your eyes and smile, leaning into him and brushing your lips against his. “i love you, yūji.”

his hand’s on the back of your head, then, pushing you back to his mouth, wanting you closer, wanting more. and you want more, too, fingers tracing lines down his back and arms and stomach, sending waves of light through his skin. this is it, he thinks as you press your body tight against his, this is all there is.

you are everything to him.

— SOMETHING ABT U I CAN’T QUIT

in each other’s arms later that evening, you feel yūji’s chest move slowly up and down with each inhale and exhale, contented in sharing this silent moment with you, and then you know. you know how you want him. you open your mouth to speak, and he does at the exact same time. the two of you share a laugh, just like you always have.

“you first,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbow so that you can look at him properly.

he reaches up and rests a hand flat against your face and runs his thumb lightly over your bottom lip. “i am…” the words are slow and quiet and purposeful. “i am so in love with you.”

your smile widens against his hand. “i want you. everything… about you, with you. i want it all.”

and he mirrors your grin, just like he always has. “i’m yours to take.” his eyes flit down to your lips, his thumb still pressed against them, afraid to look you in the eye as he speaks his next words. his face flushes pink; it’s adorable. “say you’re mine, too?” it’s a request, a plea—not a command.

you reach up to your face and place your hand over his. “all yours,” you say. “don’t even have to ask.”

it’s silent for a bit again, and then he sits up, going a little more serious.

“what?”

“what happens if this doesn’t last?”

you sit up, too, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and gently pulling his head to rest against yours. “after all these years?”

“hmm.”

you think for a moment: after all these years. your whole lives, spent together, maybe not as lovers but always as two halves of a whole. it’s him you always gossip to first, whom you always went to after heartbreaks and fights with your parents. he’s the first one you told when you lost your virginity, crashed your car, got into one of your top universities. he’s held your hand through everything.

so finally you say, “i don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

he pulls away to look you in the eye. “why not?”

his nose brushes against yours as you lean your forehead against his and laugh a little. “are you dumb, yūji?”

“i don’t think so?” when you say nothing, just continuing to look at him with that shit-eating grin on your face, he goes, “am i missing something?”

you press your lips to his for a second and pull away, still smiling at him. “it’s us, yūji. always has been.”

231 notes · View notes

cluelesslesbian · 3 years

Note

• lance choses his room first because he's pretty overwhelmed by the whole situation

• one minute he's seeing what pidge is up to with hunk back at the garrison

• the next, he's flying in a mechanical blue lion, meeting alteans in some castle on another planet

• he needed some alone time to think things over

• him, hunk, pidge, shiro and ugh- mullet head, are supposed to become the paladins of voltron?

• it was a lot to take in

• when could he see his family?

• would they possibly take a pit stop to earth?

• his family doesn't have a clue on where he is

• keith is following not far behind and notices which bedroom lance chooses

• he looks around the hall as if someone would be there to judge his decision

• and chooses the room right beside lance's

• not because he wanted some excuse to be near lance of course to possibly get rid of the whole rivalry thing

• it just...happened accidentally

• he finds himself regretting his decision

• when lance finds out he's a little taken back, assuming he'd choose a room next to shiro's

• he wasn't going to admit this either because they're rivals 😤

• but he was a bit happy to have keith's room near his

• and would hide how he really feels with a "god. i can't believe mr. drop out PURPOSELY choose his room next to mine just to bug the shit out of me, smh."

• keith's response to that would be something like: "ha...yeah, cause i hate you. a lot. there's no other reason why i choose that room. nope. not at all."

• lance gets obnoxious by blasting music in his bedroom purposely during random times of the day, singing along with the songs

• keith either kicks the wall (which does nothing)

• or comes in the room with his knife held up high

• because of their rooms being together, they're told to wake each other up

• keith ends up having to wake up lance more other than vice versa

• he walks into the room, awkwardly standing there and just kind of staring before actually attempting to wake him up

• he slides lance's headphones down gently and nudges his shoulder

• lance only mumbles, reaching out to grab keith's arm

• keith has a small gay panic and ends up yelling his name, yanking his arm away

• which freaks the fuck out of lance

• he doesn't shut up about how keith "aggressively woke me up like the castle was on fire! i thought getting older meant i wouldn't get crazy wake up calls like the one's my siblings would do."

• the rare and i mean rare times when lance wakes keith up

• lance will barley touch keith's shoulder and he jolts awake, grabbing his knife from under the pillow

• some nights when keith wakes up, due to a nightmare, he hears the gentle yet muffled from a guitar coming from lance's room

• sometimes he'll even hear him singing softly

• it soothes keith, making it easier for him to fall back asleep

• one time keith accidentally walks in on lance playing the guitar during the day

• he sorta freezes up but relaxes his shoulders after a moment

• they just sort of stare at each other in awkward silence

• keith: you know- i've heard you play before- not to sound creepy or anything...and uh, you're pretty good

lance: really? thanks man. playing usually helps me cope when i'm down in the dumps and has just become a hobby of mine

• then lance gives keith the softest smile ever that makes keith's heart pump as if he'd just ran laps around the castle

• he makes up a lame excuse to leave

• lance frowns at his sudden excuse and assumes he'd said the wrong things and starts apologizing

• keith waves him off, apologizing himself, telling lance he wouldn't mind hearing him play some more

• so lance offers he sits across from him as he played

• lance explains the song he's playing was his mothers favorite song, singing the lyrics in spanish

• keith had no idea what he was saying, but that didn't matter

• what mattered was the joy displayed on his face as he sung, confidence shining through his eyes

• at this moment keith had come to realize that his crush he had on lance might be something more

this one went from klance having rooms next to each other to keith pinning over lance playing the guitar- whoops

— 🌙 moon anon

YESYESYES

I cannot believe we have no context for how the paladins chose their rooms?? Like ajdkfl WHAT YOU WROTE IS SO GOOD- the creators couldve totally shown us how the paladins would cope after tough battles by showing us a scene like that???

aaaanyways now for my screeching

I LOVE the langst. like srsly.

Lance would totally feel comfortable with Keith's room next to his- BECAUSE Keith doesn't remember know him as well as the Garrison Duo

Like hear me out,, it's so much easier to let yourself feel sad when you know you don't have to worry about?? making others feel responsible for it????

So Hunk and Pidge would only make him bottle up his feelings more,

Hunk especially would feel bad about Lance feeling bad which would make Lance feel bad and itll just spiral right there

and Shiro is his HERO- absolutely no way Lance wants to show "weakness" around him (very unhealthy mindset btw! feelings ain't bad to have, but I get idk wanting to pretend youre invincible to look good in front of people u admire :/ )

But Keith???? yeah. he'll work....

idk maybe I'm projecting too much with that^ one ahdjfk MOVING ON

awkward keith checking to make sure no one is gathering evidence that he's a simp??? hilarious and completely logical bc pidge and shiro would DRAG HIS ASS if they found out 😂

KEITH PULLING OUT THE KNIFE EVERY CHANCE HE GETS- LIKE THE DRAMATIC KING HE IS??? *CHEF'S KISS*

klance x music! klance x music! klance x music!!!

like that whole last scene was so soft I'm in love with it 🥺❤

PINING KEITH!!! BUT AFTER GETTING TO KNOW LANCE again?? AND LIKE NOT NECESSARILY AWAY??? TOP NOTCH

@lesbianklance come get yall juice

112 notes · View notes

emsvegetables · 4 years

Text

24th: kuroo will forever think that it’s always you.

- it’s a little thing that he just can’t seem to push out of his mind. he just can’t stop thinking about the fact that it’s always been you.

no. of words: 1.6k ++??

okay hi yes. this was ALSO pure word vomit. but this was my favourite to write so far! can u tell that i love him??????? yes okay thx bye <333 i hope u like this :)

maybe it’s always been hidden deep in the back of his mind, but kuroo only recently realised that all this time, it’s always been you.

it’s a random series of events that fall perfectly into place and compete the puzzle in kuroo’s brain, the little puzzle about the fact that it has always been you.

it doesn’t matter what else he tries to think, what else he tries to do, because you’re always going to show up in his brain no matter what, you’re always on his mind, and you’re always his top priority in everything.

one of the pieces takes place when you guys are young. “why is she always here?” he complains one day when he’s about to practice volleyball with kenma, and spots you skipping over to greet them. kenma simply pushes his hair behind his ear, and nods at you when you wave at him from afar.

“because she’s our neighbour. also, we’re friends with her, kuroo, you like her, and so do i. what’s wrong with her being here?” kenma asks, and kuroo blinks.

yeah. why did he suddenly complain about your presence? he liked you. you were fun. you were nice. you were helpful. what was wrong with him? why did he suddenly say that?

“no reason,” kuroo says, shrugging his shoulders, “i was just wondering.”

kenma nods, and turns to greet you as you near them.

“hey, kuroo!” you say after you greet kenma, and kuroo grins, before tossing the ball to you, “hey, (Y/N).”

another one of the pieces takes place in middle school, and one of kuroo’s friends tap him on the shoulder when he catches kuroo’s lingering gaze during lunch one day.

“what are you looking at, kuroo?” he demands, looking at where kuroo was looking to see what he was looking at, “you’re supposed to be focusing on our volleyball game!”

kuroo startles, and laughs apologetically, “my bad, my bad.”

his friend frowns slightly, dropping the ball to the floor and continuing his stare at where kuroo was looking at, “are you looking at (Y/N) again?”

“again?” kuroo raises an eyebrow, and picks up the volleyball to start spinning it in his hand, and his friend nods.

“yeah! you’re always looking at her—“ his friend trails off slightly, before grinning widely at kuroo, “no way, do you like her or something?”

kuroo blinks.

“of course i like her,” kuroo says firmly, “she’s my childhood best friend! why would i not like her? what do you mean?”

his friend sticks out his tongue, “whatever. you’ve just been staring at her a lot.”

kuroo laughs, and looks over at you again, watching you play tag with your group of girl friends, and twitches his leg slightly when he watches you trip over air, and sighs slightly when you catch yourself as quickly as you tripped.

“(Y/N)‘s clumsy and kind of reckless. i’m just looking at her to make sure she doesn’t injure herself.”

“oh.” his friend says, “okay. whatever! back to volleyball!”

kuroo nods, tossing the ball towards his friend again, but his attention doesn’t stray from you, in case you actually do trip and fall over.

another one of the many pieces now take place in high school. by some miraculous reason, you’ve somehow been convinced by kuroo to join the volleyball team as team manager. and because you have to suffer in this hell, you supported kuroo in convincing kenma to join the volleyball team to suffer in this hell with you.

yaku and kai are talking to kuroo one day about the team’s performance when you walk in, laden with waterbottles on one hand and carrying your clipboard on the other.

kuroo instantly walks away from the both of them mid-conversation, and strides towards you, and yaku raises his eyebrows in disbelief and prods kai, “did he just walk away from us? where’s he even walking to? we haven’t even finished our conversation?”

kai lets out a laugh, and points to you, and yaku’s raised eyebrows return back to their original position when he spots you.

“ah.” yaku merely says, and folds his arms and falls silent.

you smile when you hear kuroo call out your name and turn to greet him, and you scrunch your brows together when he reaches forward to carry off all the waterbottles from your arms.

“oi,” you frown, and glare up at him, “i can carry them by myself.”

“yes ma’am,” he shoots you a salute, “but im not going to let you.”

“i’m more than capable of carrying it myself, kuroo,” you say, and try to reach forward to take them back, but kuroo merely raises them beyond your reach, grinning at you when you fail to take them back, and you wrinkle your nose in distaste.

“i know, i know,” he grins, “i’m just helping you.”

“you always help me,” you huff, “but i’m the manager, i should be carrying this. it’s my job, kuroo.”

kuroo laughs, and reaches out a hand to ruffle your hair, “i know, (Y/N), just let me help out once in a while and just say thank you.”

you sigh, before smiling up at him, “yeah, okay, thanks, kuroo.”

he ignores the clenching he feels in his chest when he stares down at your smile, and grins back at you.

“he always helps her carry her things, poor (Y/N), kuroo’s always bothering her,” yaku notes, and kai laughs.

then comes the time the pieces finally fit.

kuroo’s out with a girl, and he’s nervous as hell. this was his first date in forever, and he didn’t want to mess up his chances in finally getting with someone.

the girl’s pretty. so very pretty.

he tries his best to hide it, but he’s fiddling with his fingers underneath his table while he engages in casual conversation with the girl.

the girl smiles, and kuroo blinks.

for some reason, when she smiled, all he could think of was how you smiled at him. your smile was very different from hers. in an instant, he feels bad, because how can he compare you against others? how can he compare people against others? but he can’t stop thinking about how the girl’s smile was poised and a little stiff, and he can’t stop thinking about your genuine and sincere one.

“kuroo?” the girl says, and kuroo blinks again, before laughing nervously, “right, sorry, i drifted away for a second.”

the girl laughs, “don’t worry about that.”

and again, kuroo can’t help but think about how different your laugh is compared to the girl. the girl’s laugh was sweet, sure, but for some reason, only your laugh makes his chest feel warm.

“okay,” kuroo smiles, “should we get to ordering?”

the girl nods, and kuroo frowns when he hears the girl tell the waiter her order.

“aren’t you ordering the vanilla crepe cake?” he asks when the waiter leaves and the girl shoots him a questioning look when she notices the frown on his face.

the girl shakes her head, and laughs, “why would i? i don’t like crepe cakes or vanilla at all.”

kuroo frowns.

why did he suddenly think of a vanilla crepe cake? then he remembers. you like vanilla crepe cake. why was he thinking of your order when the girl was ordering?

“hey, kuroo, who’s (Y/N)?” the girl asks while kuroo’s trying to drink his coffee. kuroo chokes slightly, and raises an eyebrow.

“what? why are you asking? (Y/N)’s one of my best friends,” he says, resuming his drink if his coffee.

“oh, you keep mention their name, i was just wondering because all of your stories always involve them,” the girl says, and kuroo raises an eyebrow.

“i did?” he asks, and the girl nods fervently.

“yeah! is he nice?”

“he?” kuroo laughs, “(Y/N)‘s a girl, what are you talking about?”

the girl merely opens her mouth and smiles again. kuroo pretends not to notice the way her smile has become colder considerably, and the way she looks away disinterestedly when kuroo tries to engage her in conversation again.

the date doesn’t go well after that.

when the girl gives him a frosty goodbye when they part at the train station, kuroo sighs. he managed to muck up the first date he had in ages, big surprise.

his phone buzzes in his pocket then, and he grins when he sees your name light up on the screen.

“hey,” he says, when he presses the phone against his ear.

“hey!” you say cheerfully, and for some reason, his heart starts to quicken again his chest, but kuroo ignores that and waits for you to continue your sentence, “how was your date?”

kuroo sighs, “it was shit.”

“oh,” you say, “do you want to come over? i have some ice cream and we can binge watch some movies if you want to.”

kuroo smiles, “yeah, of course.”

your laugh during the movie is what clues him in.

it hits him in his heart, and causes it to clench just slightly when he hears it.

when he turns to look at you, his heart clenches even further when he sees the smile on your face as you continue to watch the movie.

he always thought you were pretty.

you laugh again, and kuroo’s breath hitches slightly when it finally hits him.

when did he start to feel this way towards you? when did he start to like you? when has he ever not thought of you?

it’s always been like this, a soft voice in his brain tells him, you’ve always been in love with her.

“kuroo? what’s in your mind?” you ask, and kuroo blinks when he realised that he’s still staring at you, and you’re looking at him with concern present on your face.

kuroo sucks in a deep breath, and smiles.

“what’s on your mind?” you ask again, raising a brow, and kuroo laughs.

“you.”

“me?” you ask, and kuroo’s still smiling at you even when you raise your brows higher.

“yeah,” he says, the smile becoming just a little wider, “hey, if i say something, promise not to freak out, okay?”

you laugh, “of course.”

“i think i’m in love with you,” he finally admits after a short pause, and you don’t know it, but he’s fiddling with his hands behind the back, waiting nervously for your answer.

you blink, and kuroo stiffens slightly.

“ha!” and when you laugh, kuroo freezes up.

“ha? what’s that supposed to mean?” kuroo asks, and blinks when you let out another laugh.

“i meant ha as in ha! you finally realised,” you say, and kuroo blinks again.

“realised what?”

“kuroo, you’re really smart in class, but you’re super dumb right now,” you laugh, before smiling at him brightly, “i think i’m in love with you too.”

and when you lean forward to kiss him, kuroo smiles against the kiss as he kisses you back.

it’s always been you, the voice in his brain whispers when kuroo pulls you closer to wrap his arms around you.

back to my fluffvember masterlist!

general taglist :)

send an ask to be added in :D

@mrs-kuroojinguji @galacticstxrdust @h0rny-m3ss @strawberriimilkshake @lexysclubhouse @alluringeternity @newfriendjen @aam1na @simpinghrs @boosyboo9206 @earl-mint-tea @sachirou-senpai @kuboyasuuu @cotton-hashira @kellesvt @mochipk @ohbois-biggay-bnha @deadontheinsidebut @atsumubabe @wisepandaslimeland @doodleniella @tttournesolll @millie-mint @the-moons-raes @chaosamu @flairlust @l3v1achan @bellesowl @wheeshllumi @karasimpno @sodasketches @dai-tsukki-desu @isentsworld @lavearchives

fluffvember taglist:

send an ask if you only want to be added to this instead of the general taglist!

@omigogames @unicorngluttony @thesecondapplepienation @tsukisemi @tamaguchi @omibaby @psycopath-satan @shibayamasbae @churochuu @crazyrichashea @let-me-have-my-own-name @fo-love @heykoutarou @lovelyrynn @neomuxuxi @haikyuuhopes @bluntkingkuroo @abswrites @ne-kuroo @yadane-bakabaka @song-of-storms162 @lady-snavely @hawksnumberoneuwu @rkives-keiji @llamakenma

i’ll tag those that i couldn’t tag later! this is a scheduled post.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines

307 notes · View notes

idle-writer · 4 years

Text

His Place

HIS PLACE

fandom: Detroit: Become Human

pairing: Nines (RK900) x Reader

word count: 1.75k

warnings: none

A/N: This is for the lovely anon who asked for more DBH content (I wish I know who you are so I can tag you, hope you like this!) I hope you all enjoy reading :)

_______________

You hear someone calling your name, followed by knocks at your door. Peering through the peephole, you see a delivery guy holding a clipboard, a big human-sized box beside him. You slightly open your door, bolt still on, cautious since your part of the neighborhood isn’t exactly the safest. “How can I help?”

He says your name, and you nod. He points his thumb at the huge box. “Delivery for you.”

“I just need you to sign here and here,” he hands you the clipboard, which you refuse.

“I didn’t order anything.”

“I hauled this big heavy thing four flight of stairs. Just accept the thing so I can leave.” The man taps his foot impatiently at the floor.

Sighing, you take the clipboard from him and sign your name. He gestures for you to open the door so he can wheel the box in and you let him. He asks where he can put it down in which you pointed at a random space at your living room.

After the delivery guy has left, you inspect the box. Nothing seems out of ordinary except for its size. Grabbing a pair of scissors, you decide the box will not open on its own. You carefully drag the sharp edge of the scissors to free the box from it seal. Opening the flaps your eyes widen at what you inside. There inside the box is a man - dark chestnut hair, his chiseled face littered with few freckles, thin lips in pursed in a straight line, his eyes closed. Is he dead?! Panic surges through you, and you do something that people shouldn’t do when they see an assumedly dead body – you poke it. On the cheek. Which is incredibly soft, and cold? You shriek when you see steel grey eyes staring back at you.

“Apologies for startling you. My name is Nines,” his voice is rich and you are immediately drawn to it. “…and I’ll be your android companion.”

You open and close your mouth, gaping like a fish out of water, confused as hell as to what and why is this happening. “Android companion? I didn’t… oh god.”

Quickly pulling up your phonebook you search for his number. Only he can pull this kind of prank. The person on the other line hasn’t even said hello when you starts yelling at him, “I swear to god, Gavin Reed. Did you just send me an android boyfriend?!”

The boisterous laughter on the other line confirms your suspicions. Gavin is a childhood friend. When you were younger, he teased you mercilessly for not having a boyfriend, and you kept telling him it was because you hang around with a jerk like him too much. And when he went to the Academy, you just lost contact with each other. Until the other day, when he walks into the same café you usually get your coffee.

“You look so lonely reading your book with only a cup of latte or whatever,” you swear you can hear the snicker on his voice. “Just try and give it a few months, yeah?”

You sigh and shake your head, knowing there’s no saying no to Gavin Reed. Still as stubborn as ever.

“Fine fine fine,” you glance at the android standing at the middle of your living room, he seems to be inspecting his new environment. “But don’t they require. I don’t know. Maintenance?”

“Don’t worry about it. I have it covered. Plus that’s the latest model of its kind. It uh does it’s own self maintenance. So yeah gotta go. Bye.”

“Wait-“ you have a lot of more questions but before you can ask, he has already dropped the call.

“Is there a problem?”

You jump back, startled by the voice near your ear. It’s not everyday you have a male companion – human or android – in your living space. “No, I just haven’t done this before.”

He nods at your words, “I’d hate to make you uncomfortable in your own place. So let me know if I have to make adjustments to my configuration.”

“No, no. It’s fine. Just be yourself,” you give him a friendly smile, “This is your place now, too.”

_______________

Nines is seating in an almost 90 degree angle on the couch, feet planted to the floor, his eyes are trained forward, his LED spinning yellow. For the one month, you’ve been together, you’ve learned a lot of things about him, and he about you. You begin to notice his small mannerisms like how he subtly tilts his head to the side when he thinks.

He begins to notice the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, or how you gently pats his arm when you laugh at something funny on the television. He also notices that there are days when you’re completely worn out from your job, but you still give him a smile and does your usual chores, ending up with you passing out on your bed.

You flop down beside him on the couch. “Thanks for cleaning up the place by the way.”

“It’s my –“

“Yeah, yeah, it’s your job. Whatever. Still thank you,” leaning your head on his shoulder, you close your eyes. You can’t help but feel how nice it is to go home from work and find someone waiting for you. You are almost on the edge of falling asleep when you feel yourself being shaken awake.

“You have a perfectly fine bed."

“Nah, I’m perfectly fine here,” you bury your face on his shoulder, “This is my place now.”

You wake up the next day, still in the couch, blanket sitting lightly on your shoulders. You don’t know how you got into that position with your knees bent on the couch, head resting on Nine’s lap. There’s a slight soreness in the back of your neck but you don’t mind. All you can feel is the gentle caress of his fingers through your hair.

_______________

You are walking up the stairs to your apartment, silently cursing your building for not fixing the goddamn elevator. Nines is trailing beside you, finding it adorable amusing how you’re stopping every five steps to take a breath, a sound similar to a chuckle coming from him.

You are almost on your floor when something flashes by and bumps in to you. The impact so hard you feel air get knocked out of you. With your balance lost, you stumble backwards. You shut your eyes and brace yourself for the fall that didn’t come.

Nines holds you firm to his chest, “Are you alright?”

When you don’t answer, he turns you around. His eyebrows are knitted as his steel eyes frantically scans your body – neck, shoulder, wrists - for any injuries.

“Nines. I’m okay.”

As if he doesn’t hear you, he drops on his knees and continues fussing over you, his LED spinning in quick red circles.

Using both your hands, you cup his head to make him look at you, “Nines. I’m okay. I’m fine.”

You watch as his LED slows down. Red. Yellow. Never letting go as it reaches Blue.

“You’re okay,” he mumbles more to himself than to you. “You’re okay.”

That night he tucks you to bed. You jokingly asks if he wants to share the bed with you, when he doesn’t respond, you squeeze his hand, bidding him a silent good night. He spends a few minutes standing at a dark corner of your room, watching you sleep.

The next day you wake up, he’s nowhere to be found.

_______________

It has been a week since you last saw Nines. You even contemplated tracking him down, maybe he has a GPS tracker or something, only stopping when you realize how weird that’ll be. He’s not some dog you own you can just track and put missing posters up for. He left for a reason. And the more you think about it, the sadder you get. The couch feels a lot bigger. Your apartment feels a lot emptier. Life feels a lot suckier.

A loud banging on the door followed by yell, “Police open up!”

What if they found Nines and?

You scramble to your feet and open the door. Your vision going red when you see Gavin Reed laughing on the other side. You swing a punch at him, connecting at his jaw. “You jerk!”

“What?” his signature stupid smirk on his face, “I am police.”

“I told you, detective. That was not a good idea.”

The familiar voice freezes you on the spot. Tears starting to sting the back of your eyes. Nine is safe. He’s okay.

“Suddenly, you know her better than me? I know her since – ” Reed jeers. He turns to you , only to see you crying, face hidden in your hands. “ – woah – are you crying? You punched me yet you are the one crying.”

Your sobs becomes louder, barely muffled by your hands. Reed silently pleads for help to the android who is now glowering at the detective. Nines ushers you inside your apartment, and seats you in the couch - the same couch you two spent hours just seating side by side. Nines wraps his arms around you, letting you cry on his chest. The clean crisp smell of his clothes no longer sharing the smell of your own detergent, instead it reminded you of the first time you met him.

He waits for your tears and your shaky sobs to halt, and for your heart to rest in a steady beat. He waits for he knows you waited long enough.

And when you are able to calm down, he holds you hand, rubbing gentle circle with his thumb, gauging your reaction, calming your distress as he explains. He is sent undercover to survey the building. The guy who bumped in to you week ago is actually a wanted criminal, and if ever you see something that night, you’ll be in deep trouble that’s why Nines had to leave and make sure to capture the guy as soon as possible. His words falls in your deaf ears, your mind focusing only on two words.

“An undercover mission, huh? Just a mission. Just doing your job.” You try to act normal but ended up cracking miserably, “Why did you return then…”

Thoughts of him saying his goodbye springs in your mind, just as fresh tears does.

“I have nowhere to return to but here,” he squeezes your hand, “I was told this is my place, too.”

He will never say it out loud, at least not right now. His place is with you.

#dbh rk900 #rk900 x reader #dbh nines x reader #nines x reader #idle-writer #detroit become human #dbh imagine #dbh fanfic

419 notes · View notes

awhilde · 4 years

Note

heyy idk if u do requests but can you make more kaeya headcanons? i really loved urs!! it can be angst or fluff idrc <34

fighting alongside kaeya -- a drabble

help sorry for the wait! i've been really busy lately with school but i hope this is okay nonetheless <3 i'm posting on my phone rn and the format is probably going to look really bad but :D i'll change that later. sorry abt it not being a hc, i felt like that kind of format would have been a little icky with this content but i’ll be sure to post more genshin hcs in the future! thank you for requesting!!!

neways,,, here is : the drabble

as a fatui, your interests settled not within the complex arrangements of snippy political meetings nor the sense of superiority that came with the job, but stemmed instead from the thrill of battle.

as a polearms user, you were usually fighting front lines, head and center, wherein your body was subjected to the constant risk of death. it is inherently clear that any misshap on the battlefield was sure to cause the loss of a limb, sure to render you useless in the field. perhaps, though, this was the element that had hooked you into such an establishment, where the line drawn between right and wrong were blurred.

every arrow that whisks past every vulnerable patch of skin, millimetres too close, every claymore that shook the ground by your feet and every wound from an elemental attack left your blood buzzing in your veins and a grin etched on your face.

the truth of the matter was, regardless of whatever the fatui delved themselves into, you stuck with then despite knowing the consequences. this statement held true especially during this era whereupon you were sure the fatui had stumbled upon something outworldly this time around though, what other organization could possibly satisfy your need for danger? the knights of favonius? don't kid yourself, there was no way such a stiff and boring group could offer you such joys in life.

so you had declared to yourself. but the moment you stepped foot into the bustling city of music and freedom, your perspective wavered.

"first time here?" the man with the blue hair asked.

your eyes examined him over your glass of wine (the bartender saying something about dandelion wine?), before nodding. "yeah, what's it to you?"

the man twirled his drink and laughed. "no need to be so hostile, we're just exchanging greetings. what kind of citizen would i be if i didn't greet a visitor to my homeland?"

your eyes traced the short distance between your chairs before sending him a narrowed glare. "awfully close to a stranger, aren't you? where's your sense of danger?"

"you could say i'm quite confident in my abilities. if you need a bodyguard for when you walk around town, i'm always available." the wink he sent you made you snort.

"as thankful as i am, i'd have to pass." you stood fro your chair, intending to settle your bill and leave.

"are you sure? they say the city gets dangerous when it gets darker."

you headed towards the door, aware when you feel a presence follow you from your seat. "surely you have something more fulfilling to do than bother random people?"

"ah, i'm simply worried about a friend exploring an unknown city. where's your sense of danger?"

you laugh and turn to him, a weary smile on your face. "you could say i'm quite confident in my abilities." and with that, you left the noisy tavern behind you, letting the jingle of the bells signal your departure. despite how comfortable you had felt around the blue haired man, you knew connections with other people never lasted, especially because of the person you were.

"now," you muttered to yourself, the city of freedom welcoming your stay. "where do i go from here?"

the blue haired man never appeared in your mind again, the short conversation dissipating as quick as it had occurred. instead, you were fairly occupied with some dragon business you had been sent to settle, and a certain green haired god you had been sent to dispose of. fatui lacked the skill of anemo and it was an understatement to say you were excited to meet in combat with the bard.

he certainly proved difficult to catch, escaping time and time again through the help of a mysterious blonde individual and their floating companion.

strange.

excitment was quick in morphing into surprise however, when your eyes fell on the man in front of you in the present time, deep, deep into a dungeon. his own widened as they rested on yours, an easy grin sliding onto his face.

"have we met?" he said.

you brandished your weapon in front of you, defensive in your stance. "can't really say. you don't seem particularly memorable."

the girl beside him, adorned in red, nudged his side. "do you know them, kaeya?"

kaeya shrugged. "you heard them. apparently not."

you gesture dismissively off to the side. "step aside if you don't want to be killed. i only came for the bard."

the odd outsider stepped in front of venti, your target, and shook their heads. their hands crept to the hilt of their blade with a gleam in their eyes. neither kaeya or the girl made any decision to move.

"nope! paimon says you have to go through us first!" the floating creature taunted.

you smirked, pulling out your polearm. "i was hoping you'd say that!"

not letting the group of four utter another word, you leapt into the air, twirling your weapon above you. the surprise in their eyes as they followed your body sent adrenaline pumping. upon impact, you swiped at their feet causing them to jump back.

"oi, that's not fair!" paimon complained and you made a jab at her, purely to shut her up. your polearm clanged against the metal of a sword as you did so, knock in your aim off course. frost covered your fingers as you withdrew and you shook them off with a smile.

"cyro?" you asked.

kaeya grinned back. instead of replying however, he darted forward, causing you to raise your weapon in defense. his eyes caught the movement and hit your blade front on. the blow was strong enough to send you a step back, and you gritted your teeth against the pressure.

you eyes wondered to seek out a weak spot when you noticed one if his hands had left the hilt of his blade.

with one swift movement, his hand pressed against the side of your stomach, freezing the fabric of your shirt. you hissed at the sudden pain, and pushed your strength into one singular blow, knocking him out.

you cradled your side with a crooked smile. your target switched from venti to kaeya in that moment, channelling your elemental power a tad bit earlier than you had expected.

but, well, the fatui would just have to deal with it.

electrical powered fuelled your polearm, the rush of sheer energy tingling your skin. sending a series of attacks at the approaching kaeya, you allowed the super conduct to double the damage done to his health. similarly, your health dropped with every injury, a byproduct from your own attacks.

eyes identifying an entry, you ducked under an incoming attack and thrusted your weapon into his stomach, halting just before the metal touched his skin. your breath condensed in the close proximity, panting from the combat.

kaeya looked down at you with interest. "was there something else you needed?"

you frowned. "i have you trapped and the first thing you do is joke? what's wrong with you?"

he jokingly raised his hands in the air, you drawing slight satisfaction in the way he hesitated while doing the action. "i would be more concerned but you seem to have no real interest in killing me. this i understand, i am rather beautiful."

your blade poked his skin in warning. before you could snap back with your own retort, and the fiery words at the back if your throat would have been enough to do so, the earth beneath your feet trembled. your head whipped up to check your surroundings, settling on the door that had now opened. the other members sheepishly stood beside the key to the door.

"oh."

the time it took for your limbs to move was not enough, for it had only taken you a moment to blink before the tables turned and you found yourself under the man you once held captive.

he had dismissed your polearm in your moment of surprise and fallen into you, using his hands to push your shoulders to the ground.

your breath left your lungs at the impact and your weapon flew from your hand, clattering as it met the floor.

kaeya looked down at you with the ease of a predator. "hey. funny how the tables turn, huh?" despite being defenseless, he remained above you, even when the rest of his group joined him by his side. it is only when paimon questioned his motives does he stand, making sure his hands never left a part of your body, something he deemed necessary so as to not let you escape.

paimon cocked her head at the sight, at the smug kaeya and at you who looked furious at the treatment. "well, looks like the fatui will be joining us."

you snorted. "what makes you think i'll be helping you?"

paimon looked down at your hand which laid limp in kaeya's grasp. "paimon thinks it doesn't look like you have a choice. looks like kaeya's taken an interest in you."

kaeya sent you a wide smirk.

you huff, turning away from his blue eyes that saught to gauge your expression. but your hands never left his, your eyes never looking for an exit, not even when the group began to move into the next section of the dungeon. something about the warm atmosphere of a carefree group whose only worries were that of becoming emergency food settled the roar for bloodlust. you found yourself cozy, an experience you hadn't felt since your childhood. you no longer held onto your polearm as if it was a lifeline, no longer enhanced your senses as you walked, no longer stood firm and upright.

it felt like it suited you, you who had only just escaped the age of 19.

and when the battle against stormterror fell upon you and the group, you found yourself fighting not for the thrill of spraying blood into the atmosphere, but for the synced dance you and kaeya created as you fought back to back.

#kaeya #genshin kaeya #kaeya fluff #kaeya drabble #requested #kaeya x reader #kaeyagenshinimpact #genshin #genshin impact #unedited #gender neutral reader

67 notes · View notes

ongaku-ato-kakikomi · 4 years

Note

Could I request something where Joe Goldberg is obsessed with a girl, but while stalking her realizes that he's somehow even more in love with the male reader, who's either a friend of hers or her boyfriend? I love how you capture him when you write!!

(A/N): I loooooooooooove this request so freaking much! I love love love this idea! Thank you so much for requesting, I really hope you’ll like my take on this! <3

Joe had his eyes settled on a girl named Cecilia, whom he met a few weeks ago in his own bookstore. She came in looking for a specific book to buy, something that he deemed a very good choice, and he was more than happy to provide it to her. She thanked him with a smile that haunted him for the rest of the day, and it was enough for his mind to believe that they were meant to be.

Little problem though: she didn’t buy the book for herself, she bought it as a gift for you. Frankly, she didn’t tell him that you existed when they first met, probably so that he could think he has a chance despite the fact that she’s taken, but after a few hours of intense digging on the internet…

… he found out about you: Cecilia’s boyfriend. He guesses that the book was for you because you’re always shown reading one in her Instagram feed. She, on the other hand, mostly take selfies of herself or of her food, a few pictures of the crook and cranny of New York from time to time. A bit disappointing, but he can help her work on her center of interests once they get together.

For that to happen, he needs you to be gone.

So here he is now, in this random bar where you met with some friends, staying at a table in the corner with a copy of the book Cecilia gave you. He’s been slowly sipping on a few drinks and some water for an hour now, intently watching you laugh and discuss things. What exactly? He’s not sure. He’s too far away and the bar is too loud for him to hear. He blames himself for choosing a table so far away from you: you never met him, who cares if he sits close to your table? You would think he learned a few things after what happened with Beck...

He looks down at his watch and gives out a long sigh. Well, this night was a total bust. He was hoping to learn something about you, something that could help him lure you out of your relationship with Cecilia… but it looks like he’s gonna need to try again another day. It’s already late and he has to open the shop early tomorrow morning.

He puts money down on his table before he picks up his book, standing up and walking towards the bar’s exit with his head lowered. He uses his free hand to replace the cap of his hat so that it hides his face better. Not that you would recognize him, but doing so helps him calm down-

His hand lets go of his book when he suddenly runs into someone, his breathing getting stuck in his throat from the impact.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going-”

“It’s totally fine.” He freezes when he looks over to see that you’re the one he just ran into, your hands carefully picking up the book on the floor. “Oh, hey! My girlfriend just got me this book!”

He knew it.

“Wow, that’s a rare edition you got.” You give out a chuckle as you look at the cover, then hand it back to him with a smile. “I’ve always wanted to read it but I haven’t gotten the chance to yet. How is it?”

“U-um…” Joe wasn’t expecting to have a conversation about books with you, and he certainly wasn’t expecting you to be so interested and kind, he-what is he supposed to do? “It’s a very good read. One of my favorites, actually.”

He takes the book from you, a rush of electricity running through him when he accidentally touches your fingers.

“Aah, I wish I was at home so I could start reading it now.” You put your hands on your belt buckle, your eyes sparking up as you look at him. “But then, if I do, I’m gonna run out of things to read.”

He feels excitement suddenly wash over him. “If… If you wanna other good reads, you can come to my bookstore… I could help you.”

Your lips stretch out into a genuine wide grin. “That sounds awesome! What’s the address, maybe I could come by tomorrow.”

He can’t help but give out a genuine smile of his own as he gives out one of the bookstore cards Ethan so religiously begged him to make. He originally hated the idea, but now that he’s giving one to you, he’s just… so happy that he accepted.

“Oh yeah! I know that place, that’s where my girlfriend got me my last book!” Joe’s fingers tingle when you give out your hand for him to shake. “I’m (Y/N), by the way. And you are?”

“Joe.” He can feel his neck heating up when his skin touches yours, your hand grasping his firmly for a moment. “Joe Goldberg.”

“Nice to meet you, Joe. I’ll try and come by to see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be gladly waiting.”

You give him one last smile before you walk back towards your table, your friends already cheering upon your arrival. Joe let out a long breath as soon as you leave, not having realized that he was holding it in, then walks out of the bar with a lighter heart.

Maybe his meeting with Cecilia wasn’t a sign saying that he needed her in his life.

Maybe it was a sign that he needed to meet you.

#you #you imagine #you imagines #you x reader #joe goldberg #joe goldberg imagine #joe goldberg imagines #joe goldberg x reader #joe goldberg x male!reader #imagine #imagines #x reader #male reader insert #request #requests

477 notes · View notes

azucanela · 4 years

Text

GOING TO A CAT CAFÉ WITH THEM [GENDER NEUTRAL HEADCANNONS & SCENARIOS]

FT. AKAASHI KEIJI, KENMA KOZUME, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

SUMMARY: Going to a cat café with the boys is eventful!

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

WARNINGS: domestic, fluff, established? relationship, aged up for no reason

A/N: proudest of ushijima’s that is all akjsdjkasd also disregard random keyboard smashes, i think i caught them all but my cat kinda just did a dance on my keyboard ya know and uhhh yeah if you followed me for haikyuu!! now is the time to get your juice bc i have a [another] tsukki fic in the works

AKAASHI KEIJI

HEADCANNONS & SCENARIOS

100% his idea, or at least hes the one who initiated the date after hearing you offhandedly mention a new cat café coming to town, i feel like akaashi likes cats and dogs so he’ll be happy no matter what. but like cats just hold a special place in his heart because i dunno, akaashi lowkey reminds me of a cat, i have no explanation

akaashi honestly just thinks it would be cute to watch you interact with cats, like obviously he likes cats himself, but like w o w

his s/o AND cats, how could this get better

“Y/N?” Akaashi spoke softly, arms wrapped around Y/N as he rested his head on their shoulder. Y/N hummed absentmindedly as they continued to cut the fruit before them, tilting their head towards him to indicate that they are listening. “I was thinking that for our date next week we could go to the cat café you mentioned.”

Y/N pauses, their hands freezing as they spoke, “are you for real?”

Akaashi smiled, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s neck, “yes for real. You said you wanted to go and it sounds fun.”

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?”

He offers them a small smile before pressing another kiss to their cheek, “Not often enough.” Comes his response, earning and eye roll from Y/N, though they lean further into his hold.

“Well, I’m excited to go with you.”

akaashi is the type to pay more attention to you than the cats, he finds your interactions with them entertaining and just all around thinks everything about that is adorable.

he loves watching you in general because he’s an observant kind of person. watching your mannerisms and interactions with others is how he kinda get to know you in his own sort of way, if that makes sense? he just compiles all this information about you in his head

obviously he’ll be petting cats as well but i feel like akaashi is actually really cold, like naturally cold, so cats might find that off putting but also he is probably really good with cats

they’ll be pestering him but he’s just watching you with a SOFT look on his face, like even the other people in the cat café are jealous watching because wow he likes likes you

likes to just hold cats, and cuddle, akaashi seems like the type to enjoy napping and could easily be compared to one himself because i dunno,,, he has cat vibes

Akaashi’s eyes don’t leave Y/N’s figure as he watches them pet the cat before them affectionately, a smile coming onto his face as he silently thanks himself for suggesting this. He absentmindedly strokes the cat seated in his own lap as his eyes meet theirs.

“Keiji we need to come back here.” They exclaim, smile on their face as they stare back down at the cat in glee.

He couldn’t help but wonder if they should consider adopting their own cat, nodding along to her words in agreement, “we should.”

Y/N beams at Akaashi, moving closer to him to press a kiss to his cheek before returning their attention to the cat. In the corner of their eye, they can feel Akaashi’s eyes remain on them momentarily, before his gaze falls onto the cat once more. And Y/N can’t help but smile as they think of what the rest of the day holds.

And the cat they may or may not have been looking into buying.

KENMA KOZUME

HEADCANNONS & SCENARIOS

cat person HANDS down, i feel like this is a universally accepted fact, but cats are just calm. dogs definitely overwhelm kenma, they’re too high maintenance, and he probably finds them gross ngl.

i feel like he’s definitely wanted to go to a cat café with you, he’s just never asked because he thinks you’ll say no or smth

if you don’t ask he will ask eventually though, but i feel like you’d hear about a cat café nearby and be like wait kenma likes cats we should go

“Hey babe?” Y/N spoke from their seat on the couch, feet resting on Kenma’s lap and eyes still on their phone as they stared at the ad for the cat café.

Kenma on the other hand, sat with his eyes trained on the TV screen as he played on his many video games. He’s speaking lowly into the small mic connected to his headphones, but that doesn’t stop him from humming in reply to Y/N’s question as he brings a hand to move one of the headphones off his ear to listen.

“Would you be interested in going to a cat café with me?”

Almost immediately, Kenma turns to Y/N, nodding far more eagerly than they expected. Kenma mumbles something into his mic before the TV screen goes black and he’s taking his headset off before spreading Y/N’s leg to move between them and rest his head on their stomach and look up towards them. “When?”

he would be so excited, like it would be the day of and he’d be trying to rush you out of the house because he wants to go see the cats n o w

don’t even try to talk to him when you finally get there because kenma is SUBMERGED in cats, he is no longer with you, his mind is with the cats. okay??? okay. glad we are on the same page.

kenma knows how to treat cats to get them to like him, he knows how to pet them and approach them, he has done research because he is SO READY to ask you about adopting a cat together— this is basically a proposal, say yes.

in general the cats would enjoy his presence, he’s calm and wouldn’t manhandle them, he understands boundaries and isn’t going to bother cats that don’t want to be bothered

he probably wouldn’t like attract cats, but he definitely wouldn’t scare them off, and if you visit the cat café frequently enough they’ll all definitely start to gravitate towards you because wow!! the guy who gives good pets!!

yeah but dont go to a cate café for a date, you’ll get neglected, his attention is on the cats. he will, on occasion, look towards you and see how you are doing with the cats. this is a test to see if you are worthy of owning a cat with him

if you pass then he now wants to marry you congrats.

slightly off topic but kenma strikes me as the type of person who is just cold all the time

A soft smile found its way onto Kenma’s face as he gently petted the cats, scratching behind its ear before looking up at Y/N, who stared at him with a smile of their own. “Having fun?” They asked, hand on the cat seated in their lap.

The boy in question nodded, leaning downwards towards the cat, “we should come here again.” Y/N is about to reply when the cat in Kenma’s lap reaches up and swats aggressively at his hair, a look of shock followed by another smile making its way onto his face as he allowed more hair to come into his face.

“Yes, we definitely should.”

Kenma looks up to Y/N, cheeks dusted in red as he tilts his head at her, “maybe we could adopt a cat.” He looks back down at the cat before him, “do you think they’d let us—”

“We both know the answer,” Y/N replies before he can finish, “but I’m sure we can look into it.”

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

HEADCANNONS & SCENARIOS

honestly

both a cat and dog person but cats hit different

ushijima was probably talking about you with tendou, offhandedly, and he mentioned how he wanted to do something with you for like your anniversary or some sort of occasion or just purely because he is grateful for your existence

and then he was like, “yes I was considering taking them on a date to this—” he’s gonna say a fancy restaraunt and tendou is gonna be like lmao no

"So, what are you doing this weekend Ushiwaka?” Ushijima doesn’t same to take notice of Tendou’s suggestive brow raising, or the suggestive look on his face, much to Tendou’s dismay.

He replies nonetheless, “I intend to take Y/N on a date, they’ve done a lot for me and I figured they would enjoy the new—”

“Let me stop you right there my tall friend.” Ushijima frowned at the interruption but paused, gazing at Tendou with a look of confusion as he grinned widely at the renowned ace. “Cat cafés are the perfect way to express your gratitude to your lover.”

Ushijma tilts his head at Tendou, “cat café?” The questioning tone brings an incredulous look onto Tendou’s face as he stares at Ushijima.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what cat cafés are– you seem like a cat person, there’s no way I was wrong—”

tendou suggested going to a cafe date, and i feel like its because he just has a feeling that ushijima wakatoshi likes cat, and is completely incapable of planning a date well enough

tendou lowkey wants to go— maybe even bringing goshiki along, suggesting that he could observe was elite aces do in their free time, something the young and easily influenced boy would definitely [eagerly] agree to do alongside tendou — but he thinks stalking you and ushijima is like...

ya know, stalkerish. not that this has ever stopped him before, but he has a feeling that ushijima would want to return to the cat café and he’d have another chance to witness his interactions with cats

speaking of

when y’all get there its gonna be... kinda chaotic

this can go two ways for ushijima, like he’s a big guy and i feel like he is on the warmer side because of this and his athleticism and stuff like that, a mini human heater if you will.

he is also very tall and resembles a tree

many cats will love him, coming over to him and winding between his legs, purring against him and enjoying his warmth. but also meowing at him until he p i c k s t h e m u p. ushijima is confused by this, but at some point he does pick up the cat to ask— literally ask — what is wrong, and it stops meowing so he’s like oh okay then you’re fine. he puts the cat down and its BACK TO MEOWING AT HIM AND HE’S???

there’s definitely going to be a cat that literally climbs him, like sinks its claws into his pant legs, and maybe even to the skin, and climbs up his body to try and steady its self on his shoulders

i feel like he has good pain tolerance so he should be fine

but there is definitely going to be a cat that does not like him and its like scared of him because wow!! tall human!! scary face!! no!!

ushijima is probably gonna watch you while all these cats are harassing him for attention, but no— his attention is on you, his beautiful s/o.

Y/N grinned as they watched their boyfriend stare down at the cat that rubbed itself against his pant legs, purring and meowing repetitively as it look up at him. “Babe, why don’t you pick up the cat?” Y/N suggested, gesturing with their free hand to the cat below.

Ushijima offered them a small — and most definitely nervous — smile as he leaned down, eyes fixating on the cat as his hands came to its side and he lifted it upwards to cradle the cat in his arms. “What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes narrowing at the cat in confusion.

Y/N nearly laughed at the question as the cat ceased meowing, prompting Ushijima to frown as he nodded solemnly, “you want to be put down then?” He asks, freeing the cat from his grasp and gently placing it on the ground, only to be met with another, rather aggressive meow.

He probably would’ve picked the cat up again had the small cat that had effectively evaded him their entire time in the cat café not appeared in the corner of his eye. Y/N watched as he turned slowly, gaze falling on the cat that stared at him with piercing eyes.

And then ran away.

A laugh escaped Y/N as they watched the interaction, only for Ushijima to look up at them and frown, huffing as he carefully maneuvered through the cat café in fear of hurting a cat. “Come here— no, stop that. Stop running—” His arms were extended outwards as he slowly walked towards the cat, brows pursed together in concentration.

Y/N simply stared, a small smile on their face as they decided they wanted to do this again.

tags: @therainroguefanfiction @iwaizoom @shawkneecaps @kuroirl @shinaus

@beifongsss [bruh i dont even think you asked to be added but like i cant remember so]

124 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Are You in Love With a Notion? (Diamond Chaney) - Ortega

summary: Ellie wakes up in the Lake District with a hangover, an engagement ring, and her best friend in her bed. It’s not quite Vegas, but it’s still a cataclysmic mess.

a/n: this one goes out to the anon that came to my inbox with the concept “diamond chaney but they impulsively get married one night and have to deal with the consequences later”. it was too good to just headcanon for so it’s now a fully-fledged fic. it’s complete and utter silly nonsense and it’s by no means the most groundbreaking writing in the world, but it is FUN! hope u all enjoy and pls enjoy my continued campaign for u all to board the diamond chaney clown bus xo

(do people still use snapchat? fuck knows, but i needed it for plot purposes. if u like u can pretend this is set in 2016.)

***

Ellie wakes up feeling like a bat has shat in her head.

It feels as if her pulse is contained entirely within her cranium given the way it’s throbbing, and every time she blinks it’s as if each of her eyelashes weigh twenty kilogrammes. She momentarily wonders where she is before the heavy cream drapes and the shiny glass-topped bedside table come into focus and she remembers she’s in the hotel room. A’whora had wanted to splash out for her birthday (“you only turn a quarter of a century old once, ladies!”) and no expense was spared since she’d got that promotion a few months back. She’d covered the difference for any of the girls who wouldn’t have been able to afford to go away and Ellie was thankful for her friend’s kindhearted and generous nature. After all, she’s not the kind of girl who would say no to a treat, and she’ll return the favour as soon as her salon takes off.

(And it will take off. She didn’t study business for nothing.)

But the room right now, even with its four-poster bed and the cosy sheets and the four soft pillows, is providing absolutely no respite from the fact that Ellie is hanging out of her arse. Throwing her arm over her eyes as she squeezes them shut, she gives a small, self-indulgent sob of anguish and suffering.

And as she rolls from her side onto her back, she becomes aware of the fact that she’s not alone in the bed.

The dread and fear that grips her heart reminds her of when she went on school camp in Primary 7 and had to jump into one of those freezing cold plunge pools.

She keeps her arm over her eyes for a few more seconds to allow herself to work up the mental stability she needs to face whoever’s at her side. Maybe it’s a dream. Maybe this has all been in her mind and in a moment she’s going to wake up hangover-free with her bed blissfully empty.

Ellie brings her arm down from her eyelids and, without knowing what possesses her (aside from the copious amounts of alcohol that remain in her bloodstream), bites down gently on her arm in lieu of pinching herself.

She can confirm she is still very much awake.

It’s not that a one-night-stand is beyond her; she would even go as far as to say that at one point both she and A’whora were infamous for it back at uni, and she’s admittedly glad that “Dirty Diamond” just isn’t as catchy as “A’whora” and therefore that particular nickname hasn’t stuck with her into adult life like it has for her friend. No, what she’s surprised at herself for is the fact she’s brought someone back at her big age. She hasn’t had a random hookup for a while now, and the fact she can’t remember it is even worse.

She presses the hand that’s under the duvet against her thigh and her heart almost gives out with relief at the fact she can feel clothes. She can’t have gone too far, then. This is okay. This is salvageable. As she runs her fingers over the hem of whatever the fuck she’s wearing, realisation slowly dawns on her that it’s her pink playsuit from the night before.

Ellie genuinely can’t tell if the situation is better because she’s not naked, or worse because she’s still in her clothes from last night.

Her pulse skyrockets again, however, as an arm gently thuds over her waist through the duvet and the person, whoever the hell they even are, snuggles into her side contentedly. Only…it all feels too weirdly familiar for Ellie’s liking. The body beside her, the closeness, even the rise and fall of the breathing is all that of someone she feels like she knows.

Lifting her arm off her eyes and to her forehead, opening them, and finally ripping the plaster off to see who’s by her side, Ellie doesn’t know whether to be relieved or slightly horrified.

A purple velvet jumpsuit with a belt to tie her in at the waist that’s coming undone. Black and purple painted nails. Endless waves of thick lilac hair that are fanned out in tendrils across the white pillowslip. An entire face of perfectly painted makeup that’s still clinging on from the night before.

It’s Lawrence. She’s waking up beside her best friend. This is fine. This is totally normal. They’ve shared a bed countless times before back at uni, and it’s not something Ellie’s ever been adverse to- quite the opposite in fact, she thinks, as her stomach does a flip.

Something still feels off, though.

And then, as Ellie brings her hand down from her forehead and something bumps against it, it hits her- physically and metaphorically- all at once.

The ring Lawrence always wears; her pride and joy, her grandmother’s ring. The one that looks like the heart of the ocean on her finger, a huge blue diamond surrounded by eight small platinum ones. The ring Lawrence guards with her life and would only take off if it was physically tasered off her. The ring that could single-handedly obliterate Lawrence’s entire student debt and probably Ellie’s too if she was feeling generous enough.

The ring- that ring- is currently sitting on the fourth finger of Ellie’s left hand. As if it’s an engagement ring.

“Lawrence,” Ellie says without thinking. Her voice is croaky and too-loud in the silence of the room, but Lawrence still takes a while to stir beside her. She pulls Ellie close with the arm that’s round her, nuzzles her face into her arm. Usually the feeling wouldn’t be an unwelcome one, but just now Ellie’s got bigger problems. She hisses again. “Lawrence, wake up.”

“I’m not shagging you, Ruth Davidson, you wee Tory,” Lawrence’s sleep-coated voice comes from beside her, and Ellie finally draws back, reaches behind her and takes the pillow out from under her head to thump her with.

“For fuck’s sake! Lawrence, wake up! We’re in the shit here!”

As Lawrence finally blinks slowly, Ellie watches her go through the seven stages of grief far more rapidly than she’s just done. She feels like an idiot for the way her heart dips in disappointment when Lawrence shuffles back from her and draws her arm away self-consciously. She mumbles, grumpy and tired. “Ellie, I’m not alive.”

“Yes you are, drama queen.”

“No I’m fucking not. I feel how Prince Philip looks,” she groans in despair, obviously as hungover as Ellie is. She screws her face up and rubs her eyes, in turn smearing her makeup over her cheekbones. “Why am I even here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we shagged,” Ellie says dryly, before holding the back of her hand up to Lawrence’s face. “Main question is, why the hell do I have this?”

Lawrence’s eyes grow wide in recognition before she groans and thumps her head back against the pillow. “How did you even…? Aw, I don’t know, Ellie, I’m too hungover to be mad about it. Just gies it back before you breathe and lose it or some shite.”

“But why is it…you know. Why is it here?” Ellie asks insistently, pressing her hand against her friend’s face in a deliberately annoying way. Lawrence grabs her wrist and forces it away from her face to get a proper look, and Ellie can see the cogs turn in her head before her face blanches at the implication.

Appearing to try and collect herself, Lawrence frowns, batting Ellie’s arm away. “You were probably getting hit on by some reprobate forty year old man in a suit so I’ll have let you pretend to be married to me. You should be honoured, really, it’s the closest you’ll get to perfection.”

“Piss off,” Ellie rolls her eyes as Lawrence gives a sleepy chuckle. She fiddles with the ring on her finger. It’s a little too small, and taking it off is proving difficult. Combined with the underlying stress of something still not being right, though, and it’s not enough to make Ellie’s dread dissipate.

“Can you remember any of last night?” she asks Lawrence, who’s scrabbling around on the bedside table for her phone.

“Nothing. You?”

“Neither,” Ellie rubs her temples with her fingers as if trying to massage the hangover out of her brain. No such luck.

“A’whora will be worse than us, then, won’t she? Because the last thing I remember is her and Tayce necking the prosecco at pres- oh, shit,” Lawrence has successfully retrieved her phone, and as she cuts herself off she’s frowning at it as if it’s committed a crime against her. “She’s calling just now, actually.”

Ellie already knows A’whora will be perfectly fresh and put together even before Lawrence swipes her phone across the screen to accept the facetime call, and so seeing her looking exactly that plus her girlfriend beside her looking the exact same just makes Ellie want to die even more.

A’whora’s smile is smug on her face as she smirks at them through the phone. “How are you two lovebirds doing this morning?”

Her words are like cold water down Ellie’s spine, and from the way Lawrence’s expression has changed too it seems she’s not the only one. She’s wondering what A’whora’s trying to imply with her joke and really, really hoping it’s just an innocent barb with no meaning behind it. Ellie can’t speak, but Lawrence gets there before her anyway. “What?”

“The married couple! The newlyweds! The babas!” Tayce jumps in, way too energetic and excited and making Ellie feel more hungover just looking at her.

Her words, though, aren’t helping her growing need to spew all over the hotel room floor. “What are you talking about?”

A’whora’s jaw drops open, and she barely conceals a laugh. “Oh my God. What do you remember?”

Ellie doesn’t want to give either of them the satisfaction of admitting that the answer’s nothing, but Lawrence is talking before she can get a chance. “Neither of us can remember anything. All I know is that I woke up in bed with this slut and she’s tried to steal my gran’s ring off me to…fuck knows, pretend she’s married to me. She wishes.”

“Lawrence,” Tayce starts, barely audible from giggling. “You two are married. You got married last night.”

What the fuck.

How can they be married? It’s not possible. Ellie tries to think but she can’t conjure up any clear thoughts. She feels the same smack of dread and fear that she felt when she went on that motorcycle rollercoaster at Flamingo Land two summers ago. Lawrence had been by her side then, too, her hand over Ellie’s white-knuckled one and reeling off ridiculous jokes to try and calm her down. She hates rollercoasters, and this one doesn’t seem like it’s going to be over anytime soon.

Lawrence doesn’t seem fazed. “You’re on the wind-up. Els, don’t give them the satisfaction, they’re taking the piss.”

“We’re not!” Tayce gasps, affronted, and A’whora is protesting adamantly too. “There was a wedding party in the bar last night and the pair of you kept moaning about how single you were and how you’d never find love.”

Lawrence narrows her eyes at her through the camera, offended. Ellie is inclined to feel the same.

“And the pair of you eventually decided you were just going to marry each other. Bimini mentioned they’re an ordained minister, so then you both insisted they married the pair of you in the hotel bar.”

“Get so far to fuck,” Lawrence snorts derisively, but it’s still not helping Ellie’s rising, terrified heart rate. “We’re meanty believe this, aye? Why in the fuck would I ever agree to marrying this wee cow, as if I would lower myself!?”

Ouch. Ellie scowls, screws her face up as she tears her eyes away from the screen and looks at Lawrence pointedly. “Thanks babes, love you too.”

“But you know what I mean!” Lawrence sort-of-not-really apologises. “Right, then, I’ll bite. If we got married, how did we get to the registry office? What registry office is open at eleven at night on a Saturday?”

A’whora shrugs all blasé. “There’s one in the hotel, we just went there. Caught it just before it closed, I think.”

Ellie narrows her eyes. She wants to believe it’s a joke, so she attempts to pick a hole in the story. “If we were that drunk, though, they wouldn’t have married us? Surely? I mean it’s not Vegas, A’whora, it’s the fucking Lake District.”

“Oh no, baby, the registrar said they get couples turning up drunk all the time! And obviously myself, A’whora and Bimini were much more sober than you, so we were the responsible adults. Or bridesmaids, I guess. We were that classy level of prosecco tipsy, you pair were on the vodka lemonades by eight last night,” Tayce explains.

As the story unfolds, Ellie feels more and more nauseous. She wants to crawl up into a ball like a dead woodlouse. Surely not. Surely not.

“Wedding dresses,” Lawrence says argumentatively. “We didn’t have wedding dresses. It would’ve been so obvious we were taking the piss.”

“Oh, neither of you would stop going on about how the colour scheme was pink and purple! Matching pink and purple playsuits! Which I see you’re still wearing, you absolute hounds,” Tayce wrinkles her nose in distaste.

Everything seems to be adding up to a ridiculously clear and yet blurry degree, and Ellie can’t in any way cope with the magnitude of the situation. She throws her arms over her face and curls up into the foetal position with a groan of self-pity. Through the duvet, she feels Lawrence whack her.

“Ellie, shut up! It’s so obviously a joke,” she insists, and Ellie can hear the roll of her eyes. A’whora and Tayce are cackling down the phone like two little Wizard of Oz witches and Ellie’s never identified more with Dorothy in her life.

“Well, believe us or don’t believe us, still doesn’t change the fact you got hitched,” A’whora says lightly. “I mean, you’ll have the marriage certificate to prove it. You had it last night, it’ll be in your room somewhere.”

Ellie pops her head out from under the duvet in horror. Her voice comes out as a horrified squeak. “Marriage certificate?”

A’whora shrugs. “Yeah! If you don’t believe us then maybe you’ll believe a piece of paper.”

“The marriage certificate that doesn’t exist. Aye, nae bother,” Lawrence says, still clearly disdainful of the story. “You coming to breakfast or what?”

“Oh, babe! Been there, done that! We got up at seven, showered, dressed, makeup, breakfast, and we’ve been out for a walk. Get on our level,” Tayce flicks her hair. Ellie fleetingly loathes her.

Lawrence rubs her forehead with her free hand, clearly headachey. “Well I’m starving, so I’m not hanging around to be wound up by the fuckin’ lesbian Prank Patrol any longer. Time’s check out?”

“You’ve got til half twelve. I got us a late one, figured we’d all need it.”

As Lawrence promises to see the other two later and hangs up, Ellie can’t speak. She’s still in shock at the potential truth from last night; that they actually got married. To each other. Over the years, Ellie’s invented made-up scenarios in her head that involve various things: telling Lawrence how she feels, kissing Lawrence, Lawrence asking her on a date. None of them have involved marriage. She’s never even thought to think that far ahead, but now it’s a reality it doesn’t seem like the Disney-princess dream she’s always expected it to be.

It actually feels sort of like a nightmare.

A thud from a pillow brings her back to reality. “Ellie!”

Ellie looks at her friend, who’s managed to crawl off the bed and is standing beside it, looking expectantly at her. Ellie blinks in bewilderment, rubs her eyes before she speaks. “What?”

“I’m gonna go shower and get changed and then we can go down to breakfast? I’ll come back and knock in about fifteen minutes?”

Ellie can’t believe she’s so calm. Sitting up in bed and feeling her head sting again, she looks pointedly at Lawrence. “You’re not in any way bothered about the story the girls just told us? The fact we might have got married?”

Lawrence snorts. “Oh, Ellie, please. You’re so gullible I swear to God someone could tell you Davina McCall’s the new Pope and you’d just nod and accept it.”

“But the marriage certificate, though? The ring? Which, by the way, won’t come off,” Ellie tugs on it again, trying not to panic when it doesn’t budge.

“There won’t be a marriage certificate! You said it, it’s the UK, it’s not Vegas. There’s a reason shotgun weddings aren’t a thing here. You honestly think we could just rock up to a registry office and get married?”

Ellie falls silent. She should feel reassured, but she doesn’t.

“I’m away to scrub the first ten layers of alcohol sweat out of my pores, awrite? You better be ready by the time I’m back.”

Lawrence leaves and Ellie is left on her own with her thoughts, which all seem to ricochet off her brain and pummel it to a husk, making her hangover worse. She still searches lazily for the fabled marriage certificate in between showering and getting ready, looking fruitlessly under discarded clothes on the floor and under furniture. Lawrence is right- she knows Lawrence is right- but there’s still a part of Ellie’s mind that’s niggling away with a what if on a loop.

By the time Lawrence knocks on her door again, Ellie is back not knowing what to think. She finds herself frantically babbling to her on the way down to the hotel restaurant in the lift, but her friend won’t entertain it.

“You’re too easy to prank. How can you believe them, it’s obviously a bam up!”

“Well, it could’ve happened! They brought it up before we even said we couldn’t remember anything, right? I mean, why else would you give me your ring? You barely trust me to hold your phone for two seconds to take a picture,” Ellie runs a hand through her hair, which she didn’t wash and is still in its big curls from the night before.

“Aye! Because you dropped it in the road when we went out for Jazz’s birthday!”

“That was two years ago! And I paid for the screen repairs!” Ellie cries in indignation, but the memory still makes her blush. She grows quiet again before her mind takes her back to the apparent events of last night. “The story makes sense.”

“The story does not make sense!” Lawrence sighs, agitated. “What proof do we have? You’re wearing my ring and our pals have told us the plot of a Hangover film? Honestly, hen, if we got married last night I’ll buy you an Uber back to Dundee.”

As they reach the dining room, the pair of them stop dead in the entranceway. Because there in the middle, almost as if it’s framed, is a table for two surrounded by inflatable red heart-shaped balloons, covered in red sparkly confetti, with champagne flutes and roses and polished silverware.

“What time’s my Uber booked for, then?” Ellie deadpans sarcastically. She doesn’t know why she’s making a joke. She isn’t in a joking mood. She’s nothing short of horrified.

“Calm down. That won’t be for us. A’whora said there was a wedding party last night, remember? It’ll be for them,” Lawrence reassures her, but Ellie doesn’t miss the distinct lack of self-assuredness to her voice that had been there before.

A waiter approaches them and asks for their name. Lawrence speaks (because Ellie can’t quite manage), and in return the waiter fixes them with a bright smile.

“Ladies, on behalf of us all at the Old England, we would like to wish you many congratulations and happiness on this most special occasion. Please, follow me,” he reels off before walking in the direction of the over-the-top, Valentine’s Day-style photoshoot set-up that is apparently where they’re having breakfast.

Ellie is going to be sick.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Lawrence whispers all in one breath, before sleepwalking towards their table and sitting down with a tight smile of thanks to the eager waiter. As Ellie sits in the chair opposite, she notices the affectionate smiles from couples at other tables and feels her face flush with hot embarrassment. The waiter disappears with a promise to be back for their order soon, and the pair of them are left sitting in stunned silence.

“Lawrence,” Ellie says first. Her gaze is stuck on the table, shocked and stunned.

“Don’t,” Lawrence replies. When Ellie finally looks at her she’s sitting with her eyes squeezed shut, her face a picture of strained concentration.

“What are you doing? You look constipated.”

“I’m trying to wake up from this abject fucking nightmare,” Lawrence says through gritted teeth.

Even though Lawrence is right- it is a nightmare, it’s a bad, terrible dream- it doesn’t stop the way her words feel ever-so-slightly like a blow to the crush Ellie’s harboured for an embarrassingly long length of time. She can’t think about that, though. There are bigger issues at stake here. Like the fact they’re married.

“Do you believe me now? Why the hell would the hotel do all this if we didn’t get married in their registry office the night before?”

“It’ll be…” Lawrence begins, trying to explain it away then putting her head in her hands when she realises she’s at a loss. “Fuck, I don’t know. We need A’whora or Tayce down here to talk it through with us. Or Bimini. If it’s A’whora and Tayce’s prank then they might not be in on it.”

“They had to go back to London early for a shoot, remember? They’ll have already left,” Ellie reminds Lawrence, and her face falls in dismay.

The waiter returns holding a bottle of champagne and Ellie watches Lawrence turn over her flute with a little aggressive thud and doesn’t say when until the bubbles climb to the very top of the glass. They both order pastries, Ellie’s appetite completely gone and Lawrence’s appearing to be the same.

Ellie narrows her eyes at Lawrence as she watches her glug the bubbles down. “How the hell can you be drinking at a time like this? Are you not hungover?”

“I am hungover, yes. But I need to be drunk to deal with this situation. So I’m hoping this’ll at least take the edge off a bit,” she says dryly. Ellie rolls her eyes.

“Being drunk got us into this situation, it’s not gonna get us out of it,” she sighs helplessly, realising too late that she sounds too much like her Mum. Lawrence responds appropriately; shaking her head at her moodily and staring off into the distance as she keeps sipping from her glass.

Ellie cups her cheeks, thanks the waiter weakly as he puts down a tray of pastries in front of the two of them. She tries to go over the events of last night in her head but draws a blank every time. According to A’whora and Tayce they’ll have been at the bar, decided to get married…Bimini had married them, somehow and somewhere, and they’d gone to the registrar…then they’d presumably got even more drunk and had a dance, and then…

How had Lawrence ended up in her room? Unless they’d…no. They’d both still had their clothes on from the night before.

But that wouldn’t have stopped them making out.

“Oh, God,” Ellie groans, unable to hold in the regret and the constant pain of her headache. Lawrence shoots her a funny look. Ellie’s loath to explain herself. The idea that the first kiss she’s shared with Lawrence has been messy, drunk, and one she can’t even remember is one that makes her feel stupid amounts of disappointed, but she’s not exactly going to share that with her friend.

“Loz, what if we did something last night?”

“What, aside from get married?” Lawrence talks through a mouthful of croissant. Then, as realisation dawns, her chewing stops. “Oh.”

There’s an awkward silence as they both stare at each other.

“Nah,” Lawrence finally shrugs as she resumes eating. “Because we both still had our clothes from last night on when we woke up?”

“Yeah, but we still could’ve kissed,” Ellie pulls a face, the words feeling too awkward and childish as they come out of her mouth. Lawrence seems to hesitate for a second before smirking across the table at her.

“Aye right. As if I’d ever let you near enough to me for that to happen.”

“Rich from the girl who was wrapped around me when I woke up,” Ellie quirks an eyebrow at her, and it’s Lawrence’s turn to fall silent.

Breakfast doesn’t last long. Between their hangovers and the fact that they’re both trying to make sense of the whole crazy situation neither of them can eat much, and they’re dragging themselves back to their rooms before too long. They continue to discuss everything, purely because there’s not much else they can talk about when the prospect of them being married is hanging over their heads like the world’s heaviest cloud. This time, though, it’s Lawrence who’s doing most of the nervous talking.

“I’m sure it’s easily explained away. They probably just got our table confused with the wedding party’s from yesterday. That’ll be what it is. Just some big coincidence. There’s a reasonable explanation to it all. Have you got that fuckin’ ring off your finger yet?!”

“I’m working on it,” Ellie grumbles. The best she’s managed is getting it halfway to her first knuckle before realising it was cutting the blood circulation off even more and she could get it no higher, so she’d immediately pushed it back down again.

She hears herself huff with annoyance. All she wants to do is sleep but they have to somehow deal with this first, and it’s more inconvenient than she’d ever hoped her first marriage (her only marriage) would be. Thinking for a second, she gives a little gasp as she has an idea. “Why don’t we just go down to the registry office and ask?”

Lawrence stops walking, fixes Ellie with a look as if she’s sprouted another head. “Have you lost the bloody place?! You want to go up to the registrar and go, ‘sorry to bother you, but can you please tell us if we’re married or not?’ We’d get sectioned!”

Ellie thinks that, even though it sounds as if it’s the easiest course of action, Lawrence is probably right.

“Besides,” Lawrence continues. “If there’s the possibility that we did rock up three sheets to the wind last night, I don’t particularly wanty show my face there again.”

“Right,” Ellie agrees. She bites her lip as she reaches the door to her room and puts her key card in. Lawrence waits beside her, a mutual understanding that she’s coming in to continue the conversation.

Ellie supposes she’s her wife now, so it makes sense.

“Who could we phone to confirm it, then? The government?”

Lawrence pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “Ellie, you did not just ask me if we could phone the gov-”

“Oh my fucking God.”

Ellie cuts Lawrence off without thinking, and upon seeing the inside of the room Lawrence is rendered speechless too. There’s more balloons, ones without weights that cover the ceiling over the bed. The bed itself and the floor surrounding it is covered in rose petals, and on top of the pristinely made duvet there’s a box of chocolates and two bathrobes origami-d into swans.

Lawrence is the first to march into the room. She snatches up a small note that’s sitting on top of the chocolate box, unfolds it and reads aloud. “Congratulations to the happy couple, we wish you both a long and happy marriage. From all the staff at the Old England hotel. Fuck me, this canny be real.”

Ellie lets the door swing shut, walks over to the bed and sits on its edge precariously. An idea occurs to her as she retrieves her phone from her pocket. “Here. Check your phone. Messages, photos. There might be clues.”

She doesn’t look up to see if Lawrence is nodding or not, but she assumes she’s following her suggestion. Ellie is busy with her camera roll (where there’s nothing, and the last photo is a terrible, blurry, unflattering selfie of her and Tayce) when Lawrence gives a hum of recognition.

“I got a snapchat from you at one in the morning.”

Ellie cranes her neck. “What does it say?”

Lawrence, oddly, is keeping the phone out of her view. She’s quiet before she brings the phone back into Ellie’s line of vision, and the picture, whatever it was, is gone. “Just a drunk selfie. Nothing that could give us any clues.”

The pair of them are quiet as Lawrence taps against her phone screen. Ellie reflects. They’ve been in the shit like this together before: when they were eighteen and both their phones died before Lawrence’s Mum could pick them up from T in the Park and they got yelled at the whole way home when she’d eventually found them both, when they’d been stopped by the police because Lawrence had carried a traffic cone through the City Centre and tried to put it on top of the existing one on the Duke of Wellington statue. But this is a whole different level of shit.

Through it all, though, Lawrence has always been there with a joke and a laugh and reassurance for Ellie that things are never as bad as they seem. She always has this panicky way of staying positive, delivering comforting words through a voice that’s shaky with her own anxiety. Ellie always helps her in return when she needs it, has done for years: she’s usually good at staying calm, she’s chatty and can talk Lawrence through anything, and she’ll always reach out to take her hand or be there with a hug and a reminder that as long as Lawrence has got her, she’s never on her own. They’ve always seemed to take turns being each others’ anchors, and their friendship is a weird sort of pendulum of support. Today, however, they’re both blindly stumbling through their own process of coming to terms with this situation, and Ellie supposes neither or them are being much of a help to each other. She wishes she could be more helpful, because she cares about her friend so much.

Too much for it to be explained away as a friendship.

“What are you looking up?” Ellie asks as Lawrence lies back on the bed with a thud, eyes still glued to her phone. Craning her neck, Ellie can see she’s typed how to get divorced into Google.

“Why are there no ordained divorce lawyers?” Lawrence mutters under her breath. “We can get married in a hotel bar but we can’t get divorced in a hotel room? What kind of fucking bullshit is this?”

Ellie lies back too. It’s not lost on her how close together their heads are. “Why are you trying to get us divorced? We might not even be married. I still think we should phone up the government.”

“Nicola Sturgeon’s got bigger fish to fry, babes, there’s an election in May.”

“Not the government, obviously,” Ellie rolls her eyes, scrolls her own phone absent-mindedly. She’d look something up to try and help but she’s at a loss. “Like…the offices! The records of marriage and stuff. They’ll have a department for this sort of thing, won’t they?”

“Will we even be on the system if our marriage is less than twenty-four hours old?” Lawrence wonders out loud. “And if we got married here, would we be registered in England, then? Aw fuck, so many questions and not a single answer.”

Ellie frowns to herself as she thinks. “What if we do have to get divorced? Will we need a lawyer? I don’t have that kind of money, Lawrie, and neither do you.”

Lawrence hums in worried agreement, and Ellie presses her lips together. It’s weird dealing with all of this when there’s a crush at play. In amongst frantically trying to figure everything out and clarify it all, a tiny part of Ellie wonders…would it really be so bad to be married to Lawrence? There’s not really an excuse for them not to date now. It’s really the perfect way of ruining the friendship she’s been so worried about ruining for the past few years; it’s not awkward to say she has feelings for her literal wife, she supposes. But every time those thoughts rest in her brain for a few seconds, Ellie forces herself to chase them away- because really, hen, are you insane? The sheer scale of the situation isn’t lost on her, she knows they have to figure it out somehow and mop this mess up. But pretending would be nice, and safe, and far, far away from this alcohol-soaked bubble of horror she appears to have woken up in.

It’s out before she knows it, though. “What if we just stayed married? If we are. If we just stayed married until we could afford to get divorced?”

“Jesus Christ, Ellie,” Lawrence drops her phone onto the bed, covering her eyes with her hands in resigned exhaustion.

“No, think about it! There must be loads of benefits to getting married,” Ellie explains, feeling as if she has to justify the ridiculous thought now. “You get, um. I think you get extra money from the government?”

“The tories have never given out extra money. To anyone,” Lawrence glares at her.

(Ellie knows it’s not what she should be taking from this, but it occurs to her that the way Lawrence has done her eyeliner today makes her eyes look really pretty.)

“Oh! Here, it says you get tax breaks if you get married. It would be good to not have to pay council tax for a bit,” Ellie says, looking up from her phone where she’s just googled what are the benefits of getting married UK.

Lawrence pauses beside her. When she speaks, she sounds contemplative. “Well, you’d be taking my last name, because am I fuck taking yours.”

Ellie gives a choked noise of indignation. “Fuck off, I’ve got the best last name out of the two of us! Diamond?”

“It’s the last name of a porn star! I’m not living my daily life like that!”

“So you want me to go by Ellie Chaney? A name that rhymes? Like a character from Balamory?”

“You already dress like a fuckin’ character from a kids’ TV show, it wouldn’t be that far-fetched,” Lawrence starts giggling, and Ellie can only fix her with an unimpressed pout. “Nah, this wouldn’t work, Els. We’re already arguing and it’s only been one day. We couldn’t stay married. Besides, I’ve got fucking standards, you know? I could so do better than you.”

It’s silly, Ellie knows, but the last comment from Lawrence stings more than it should. It’s got nothing to do with the concept of the two of them actually being married, but more the fact that Lawrence has basically just rubbished any hopes that Ellie’s ever had of maybe-someday-oneday them breaking out of their little bubble of friendship and trying to be anything more. She’s always done it; that’s Lawrence’s way, to shit on Ellie, to gently bully her, but Ellie has always known there’s no malice behind it. Except today it all hits differently, it hits a sore spot that she’s too tired of trying to keep hidden.

“Sorry that being married to me is such a disgusting prospect,” Ellie snaps without realising, turning over on the bed and standing up so she doesn’t have to see Lawrence’s reaction to the comment she already regrets.

“When did I say that?” Lawrence fires back, and Ellie can tell she’s confused by her reaction.

“We need to find this fucking marriage certificate,” Ellie ignores her, opening the drawers of the bedside table even though she sort of knows it’s a futile endeavour since she’s already searched.

Lawrence pushes, though, never one to back down from a confrontation. “Why are you suddenly raging at me, what am I meant to have done?”

“You don’t have to act like you got landed with the booby prize on a game show, Lawrence, I’m still your friend. There’s worse people to be stuck with,” Ellie continues as she crosses the room to look in the drawers of the dressing table, hating the way she sounds like a petulant child but being unable to help the way her words just seem to be coming out.

There’s a silence that hangs in the air like fog, and then Lawrence’s voice comes again. It’s softer, a comforting note to it that makes Ellie’s heart lift cruelly. “Ellie.”

Ellie opens the wardrobe doors, realising too late what a ridiculous place to look it is but committing to the idea anyway. She’s still way too hungover to cope with any of this, and the prospect of an argument with Lawrence, especially over this, isn’t one she’s able to face. Accepting she’s not going to find the certificate, she sighs and walks back over to the bed. As she sits on its edge and keeps her back to her friend she fiddles with the ring on her finger, and it finally, mercifully, slides off.

Lawrence’s voice is stripped of all its aggression and incredulity from before as she speaks again. This time she’s quiet and sincere. “Ellie. What’s this really about?”

Before Ellie can consider the gravity of the question or indeed contemplate how to word an answer, Lawrence’s phone vibrates against the bedcovers. Neither of them speak as she reaches up to grab it, but when A’whora’s name flashes up on screen again they share a look of weary exhaustion, neither of them wanting to face their friend’s smug expression.

A’whora’s smiling cheekily as Lawrence answers the call. “How’re the young lovers doing after their breakfast, then?”

Lawrence’s nostrils flare. “I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.”

“So all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, then. Just calling to see if you liked the wedding presents.”

Ellie feels like a crumbling sandcastle as she rolls onto her side next to Lawrence and looks at A’whora through the screen. “What?”

“The decorations at breakfast! The ones in your room! Just thought they’d really add to the atmosphere,” she smirks, unable to keep from laughing.

More confused than ever, Ellie frowns in bewilderment. “But that was from…the hotel did that?”

“No, I did that. I just phoned down and got them to set it up. They still had a bunch of wedding shit left over from that pair that got married last night. It wasn’t cheap, but it was worth it to give the pair of you the romantic equivalent of everyone singing happy birthday to you at a restaurant,” A’whora explains, still giggly.

Ellie and Lawrence are silent as they stare at their friend through the phone. A’whora seems perturbed, then narrows her eyes at them before she speaks again.

“You two didn’t actually…believe you got married, did you? I thought you knew it was a bullshit prank.”

Before she can register Lawrence’s reaction, Ellie’s mouth drops open in shock. She grabs the phone from Lawrence’s hands and yells at A’whora as if she’s in front of her and not in her own room down the corridor. “A’whora! I am going to fucking kill you!”

A’whora’s laugh comes through the phone like a crackly screech, and Ellie doesn’t miss the unimpressed look from Lawrence at having been unable to style out the fact they’d both been duped. Ellie can’t even let that bother her, though, because she’s too busy tripping over herself to retell to A’whora their rollercoaster of a thought process from this morning.

Lawrence shakes her head beside her, loath to admit she’d been fooled too. “I didn’t believe it for a second. She’s talking out her arse.”

Ellie cries out, affronted. “You were telling me I had to take your last name not even five minutes ago!”

A’whora has to wipe tears from her eyes by the time the pair of them have told her the whole story. “Oh my God, guys. This has been the best birthday present of the weekend. I actually think I’m gonna wee myself. Fuck!”

“I can’t believe you told us we got married and we just…believed you!”

“Well, no, you did get married,” A’whora says.

With this revelation, it crosses Ellie’s mind to lock herself in the hotel sauna until she’s cooked through. “What in the name of God-”

As she continues to speak though, A’whora clarifies. “Or at least, you said you both wanted to marry each other. That conversation did take place. Bimini started joking they were an ordained minister. They showed you their provisional drivers’ license and told you it was a minister’s license. You were both so drunk you believed it.”

“Christ in a wheelie bin,” Lawrence groans.

“But you’re not actually married married. It was just pretend. And hey! We had fun. You should do it for real some day,” A’whora cackles.

If she was in the room with her, Ellie would slap her.

They finish the call with the promise to be packed and ready to meet to check out at half twelve, and when Lawrence locks her phone the pair of them laugh softly about the idiots they’d both been. Ellie is glad A’whora phoned. The conversation that had been taking place prior had been about to go down a route she hadn’t wanted it to, and she’s glad there’s no reason for it to be brought up again. She can go back to keeping her crush on her friend a secret, never to be unearthed.

“I should probably go and start getting packed, then,” Lawrence says decisively, getting up from the bed and making to leave. Ellie remembers what she put on the bedside table, and reaches out to pick it up as she tells Lawrence to wait.

As Lawrence turns around, Ellie holds out her grandmother’s ring, feeling a little awkward as she does so. “Here. Since we’re not married anymore. It came off in the end.”

Lawrence looks a little sheepish as she accepts it with a soft thanks. She gives it a little smile, then shoots the same one at Ellie. “Thank fuck for that.”

There isn’t any malice to her words. If Ellie was being hopeful she’d maybe even say there was regret.

Lawrence leaves and she can’t shake the little niggling feeling of sadness that embeds itself under a synapse in her brain.

***

The cold air that comes with the beginning of Autumn is welcome to Ellie as she sits and waits on Tayce to bring the car round. She’s not quite fully recovered from her hangover, but packing, checking out and getting a can of Monster from a vending machine in the lobby has done wonders for her mood. There’s also the fact that she doesn’t have a potential marriage to consider, so that’s good. That’s a relief.

A crunch of gravel behind her makes her turn around, and seeing Lawrence wrapped up in her black hoodie makes Ellie feel mixed emotions. She feels silly for getting so caught up in the whole idea of them having been married, the way she’d panicked and immediately thought it was all real, taking A’whora and Tayce’s comments at face value. She’s embarrassed at how she’d taken it all so seriously, and most of all she’s embarrassed that Lawrence was there for every reaction.

“Hey,” she greets her, already feeling a blush grow on her face. “You recovered?”

“Just about, yeah,” Lawrence laughs softly. She gestures to the mango loco that’s in Ellie’s hand. “Can see you’re clearly feeling loads better.”

Ellie matches her laugh, raises the can up in a solo cheers. As she drops her arm again, she sighs a little.

“Listen, Lawrence, sorry about…this morning. Immediately panicking and getting so worked up and intense with it all. I was just hangy and emotional and I had the fear…you know what it’s like.”

“It’s no problem. Don’t worry,” Lawrence brushes her off. Her expression is troubled though, as if there’s something else she wants to say. The unspoken words are loud and stifling, and then Lawrence finally meets her gaze with a nervous one of her own. “Well, marriage didn’t really work for us. But…d’you think drinks would be better?”

Ellie’s heart is going to give out. She can’t cope with the events of the day at all. She can already feel her pulse speeding up with hope so she frowns at Lawrence slightly, clarifying like a child tugging the string of a balloon to bring it back to earth. “Drinks?”

“Yeah, like,” Lawrence shrugs, looks to the ground bashfully. “For a date. If you want.”

All at once it’s as if her blood has just suddenly exploded in her veins. It feels like Ellie is on some sort of other-worldly come-up as she blinks at her friend, her friend she’s had a crush on since fuck-even-knows-when, and is stunned into silence.

“The snapchat you sent me last night,” Lawrence continues, scrolling her phone and holding the screen out for Ellie to see. “I’ve felt like that too for a while now.”

Ellie is cringing as she reads the white text against the black screen- a screenshot of her message sent to Lawrence at one in the morning, which reads “so glad whe’re marrrued for rwal vc ive reallt luked you for ages and i quitr fancg u a lot acfually x"

“How did you even manage to read what that says,” Ellie screws her face up, failing to address the bigger picture.

Lawrence smiles, a little hint of a twinkle to her eyes that makes Ellie’s heart thump. “I knew what you meant.”

There’s a small pause where Ellie blushes and looks to the ground, handing Lawrence her phone back. Lawrence uses the silence to keep talking.

“I know I like to rip the piss sometimes, and I know I can take it too far. But today all of that was about…verbalising everything I thought you were feeling about me. Trying to reassure you that I wasn’t interested in you because I thought that’s what you wanted. Once I started I just…didn’t stop, I guess. Damage control, you know? I’m sorry, Ellie,” she reels off quietly. She’s not hiding behind any jokes and she’s not making fun of Ellie and she’s not making fun of herself. It’s honest and simple and raw and everything Ellie’s wanted.

She scuffs some gravel with her shoe. “You feel the same, then?”

Lawrence presses her lips together. Ellie can tell she’s nervous. “Yeah. I do.”

“I do? Is that some kind of sick joke?!” Ellie laughs, and as Lawrence joins in she suddenly hesitates. “Wait. This isn’t a joke, is it?”

“Well, I’ve had enough fucking pranks for one day and I’m pretty sure you have too.”

The pair of them share a laugh, and as Tayce’s car appears from round at the hotel car park, Ellie fixes Lawrence with a smile.

“Drinks sound good.”

Tayce and A’whora appear from the car and pop the boot open, and Lawrence and Ellie try and fail to bite back the smiles they’re shooting each other as they carry their suitcases over, a mutual agreement that they’ll talk more about their plans when they don’t have their nosy and shit-stirring friend and her equally nosy and shit-stirring girlfriend with them on their way to drop them off at the train station.

It’s not quite a shotgun wedding, and it’s not quite a marriage in Vegas. But a date and a drink with the friend she’s hidden her feelings from for too many years is a good place to start.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #ortega #are you in love with a notion #ellie diamond #lawrence chaney #ellie x lawrence #a'whora #tayce #uk2 #lesbian au #marriage #fluff

19 notes · View notes

pffbts · 4 years

Note

I do not want to bother you, but you said you have no request for jin, which breaks my jin heart so hear you are (if you want to do it): Looking for a new appartment with him ❤️

―GENRE: fluff ; comfort; angst (if you squint)

―CHARACTERS: childhood friend!kim seokjin x female!reader | no supporting character.

―W.C: 3.2K

―AUTHOR`S NOTE: extremely sorry if this is too late but i absolutely loved this request. it feels domestic & i`ve a weakness for domestic jin plus his natural hair coloured mullet. i hope you like this, bub <3 love u & thank u for requesting such a lovely request <3

[02:28 PM] [warmth will come when you never expect it]

―you felt the coolness spreading through your right cheek and along with it the few cold icy water droplets falling one by one on your denim jacket. you opened your eyes slowly against the hot wind that was flowing through the open bus today. as you turn your head to your right, the cup of cool coke brushes against your face, the straw obscuring a bit of your sight, and the cold surface freezing up your lips.

you find your best friend, jin turning his head at the same time to look at you.

“you looked like you were in discomfort so i was trying to cool down your skin.” he said, looking a bit concerned as your eyes remained kind of droopy.

“why do you look so good even in this weather?” you asked listlessly.

“maybe because you put down my offer to sit at the window seat?” he said back, sounding so obvious.

meanwhile, jin has put down the cup of coke and pushed the cold drink into your hand. “drink it, it will help you a bit.”

“it`s too hot, i shouldn`t have worn this jacket.”

“you could`ve worn that cami you brought last weekend.” jin, tried describing the sleeves of the dress by putting both of his hand over his shoulders, “you know the one with the thin strings?”

“ah it wouldn`t be a proper dress to wear for apartment hunting, you know?”

“why? i`m sure you looked good in it.”

“that`s too much skin. plus the dress is of thin material. we`ll be meeting random people today and i don`t want anyone to give me looks. i already get enough because of your handsome face,” you took one glance at jin who was looking at your hands holding the cold plastic cup and eventually making it go warmer, a small smile climbing onto his mouth, “plus with that mullet, you look extra good. i swear i saw some girls going gaga over it while we were getting on the bus at the bus stop.”

jin put a stop to your rambling, understanding how the hot weather is getting on your skin. he took the drink from your grip and gently pushed the straw into your mouth. “this is getting warm, drink up.”

you mumbled back an incoherent speech which wasn`t clearly understandable to jin but it was none of his concern right now. he was already getting up from his seat to look out from the window to see if you guys are at your destination already or not.

you thought he was probably getting up because you were at the destination already and so you reached your right arm towards him and held the end of his flannel (tmi: it was deep blue with think green stripes as checkered print) while still holding the cup in one hand, the straw in your mouth all along.

jin looks back, shaking his head silently letting you know that he`s not getting up to leave but just to check if you guys are at the destination yet or not. he took his hand off of the metal rod for support and extended his arm behind and held your right-hand wrist―a small sign of reassurance and warmth, you understood.

in a few seconds, he dipped his head down to see that the shop the landlord said about is right on the other side of the street. thankfully there was a bus stop on this side of the street so the bus stopped & jin pulled you by arms to get up. you moved quickly and followed him down the bus.

the coke which is half-finished now is now being pushed towards jin, who looks down at you, confused.

“drink it too. i would feel bad if you don`t have a sip.”

“just a sip?”

“okay maybe a little bit more than that.” you gave in.

“okay but hold it for me a bit, we`ve to cross the street now,” he points at the shop on the opposite side of the street which the landlord talked about, “that`s where mr. lee will meet us, i think.” you nodded and wrapped your left arm around his right one while crossing the street.

the street was kind of busy today and maybe that`s why jin was kinda concerned with you even though he knows you`re accustomed to the city by now.

when you finally crossed the street and stood in front of the shop, you let go of his arm. jin, as decided beforehand, takes the coke from your hand and sips in some of the now lesser cold drink. you felt kinda bad because initially, he bought it for himself, he couldn`t drink it much.

“i`ll buy you one tomorrow when we go back from uni,” you told him. jin closed his eyes for a second and shook his head, pulling the straw out of his mouth, “it`s okay, eventually, you needed this more than me, so it`s absolutely okay.”

you could only smile at your best friend.

when the landlord eventually came, jin decided to interrogate on behalf of both of you. strangely the first question the landlord had for you guys was, “are you guys a couple? engaged?”

you both looked at each other perplexed because all your school days and now college days, you guys have always heard people saying the same thing. do you guys really look like you could pass as couples? even at the extent of an engaged couple?

during school days, your classmates would never approach jin even though he was technically the most sort after guy in the whole grade. for some weird reason, they thought jin would never look at any other girl than you―be it asking for a spare pen from the distance of five desks or being the first option for a group project. it has always been you and jin. even at college, though jin took acting major & you took physics as your major because both of you arrived and left college at the same time and with each other, even the campus people knew you both came in two in one package. one wouldn`t leave the campus without each other.

strangely, there hasn`t been any sort of romantic action in-between the two of you. both of you have been quite chill with each other. both of your mothers have been friends since your and jin`s elementary days so get together for dinners and lunch has always been quite common. though it has definitely crossed your mind how your friend started looking more than just a friend. it eventually started since he started growing out his hair to the current mullet state. his tall stature, his beautiful face, his way of knowing every bit of household works while your lazy self just never left your room during exam seasons.

but the thoughts remained like flickering thoughts just passing by for some seconds when you look at him some days. it has never crossed your mind that you can possibly be romantically linked up with him. at this point, even with all this hand-holding and taking care of each other, showing concerns when one of you is in discomfort. for you two, this has always been like a natural thing in your relationship―like how humans react in the world where only you and jin exist.

actually, it was kind of good that people thought of you both as a perfect pair because jin has always been the perfect man for any human out there, especially for someone as studyholic or as allergic to household work as you.

“do we really look like that, sir?” jin asked now facing him.

the man shrugged his shoulders in reflex, “i don’t know even from far away i thought you two are some couple. actually, you both don`t even look like a new couple―”

jin put his palm up in front of the landlord and laughed, “sir stop right there, we`re simply very close-knitted friends. we`ve been best friends since our elementary days, i guess the closeness of ours rubbed in a wrong way for you.” jin bowed a bit.

you bowed too as in reflex to which the landlord kind of laughed, “okay yeah i understand. now let`s get with our business, okay?”

you both nodded as usual in unison. seriously, it`s like at this point you both aren’t even doing this on purpose, it`s like a simple reflex. it`s like you two are one body, one heart, one brain―but divide that brain into two halves in which one side is filled physics derivations while the other how an actor should act varying emotions bit by bit.

the landlord stared at you two for another second, let out a nice big laugh this time and started walking before you with his back facing you two.

“what do you think of this one? it has two spacious rooms enough for two young people, plus a small kitchen at a good spot.”

“the kitchen does look quite small but thankfully it`s not located at an uncomfortable place.” jin remarked this because the other two previously painfully close to one of the room & he knew that would be a problem if you stay in that room because there was a high chance if you both have chosen that apartment, you would`ve taken that room close by the kitchen with the biggest window. apparently, your love for windows is quite big and that`s not unknown to jin, at least.

“yes, i like it quite much. let`s see the rooms once again, can we?” jin asked. the landlord nodded and took both of you in again. both of you scanned the rooms again, this time quite carefully. after all, you both are going to stay here for two years until both of you graduate.

“i like this one,” you nudged jin with your elbow on your left, “what do you think?”

“i like it too. which room do you like though? that room has a good window i think?” he looked at you asking the most concerning question, “i think the window in this room is smaller than that one. you should definitely take that one.”

“yeah that looks cool, i guess.” you agreed with him giving him a satisfying nod.

as soon as he saw that you`ve agreed on with him, he turned away from you to confirm with the landlord that you guys will be taking this one for two years. the landlord said you both have to go with him to his office to sign the lease.

both of you agreed to go with him. it was a short walk from the current apartment and when you two finally signed the lease, paid the needed deposit to him in check and all, it was decided that by next week you guys will move in. the landlord marked his calendar and said he`ll look into it.

bidding goodbyes, both of you stepped out of the office and started walking to the bus stop at which you got down previously.

“our campus will be a little bit far from here. probably going to take half-an-hour but the locality is good. there`s a supermarket right across the street, plus a bus stop, what do you think?” jin asked, casually putting his left arm on your shoulder, eventually pulling you against him a bit.

you realized that the streets are getting busier and so when jin closed the distance between you two, it was from the thought that you might get separated from him in the increasing crowed.

“i like it. the distance won`t be a problem. our school was one hour from our neighbourhood, remember?”

“right. i think we`ll settle well here.”

you hummed back in agreement.

“by the way! why do people still think we look like a couple? even strangers we meet say the same thing?”

“i don`t know, maybe because we do look like one?”

“you should definitely get a girlfriend. people will start assuming weird things when we start living together.”

you felt jin stiffen a bit at the mention of getting a girlfriend. it`s been kind of an off-topic for you two but these days you`ve been dropping this topic left and right on him.

“it still won`t change the fact that we`ll still be living together.”

“but―”

“and what? even if i get a girlfriend like you said, she won`t live with us.” jin`s hand dropped around your waist, he held you this time quite protectively. his arms looked strong around your waist, you could feel his abs muscles moving against your right arm. “at the end and the beginning of each day from the next week, it`s going to be us only in that apartment.”

“you can bring your girlfriend over anytime you want. i won`t have any problem with that.”

“what if i don`t want to?”

you both have reached the bus stop, currently standing and waiting for the bus. you snapped your head up at his towering height. jin wasn`t looking at you this time.

“what do you mean?” you asked, your voice held no assurance.

“i said i don`t want to get a girlfriend, forget bringing that said girlfriend into our apartment. it`s absolutely not needed,” jin now looked down at you who was about to say something, “and you must know at this point i don`t want anyone apart from you.”

“huh? jin?” your head now empty except for his last words.

i don`t want anyone apart from you.

what exactly did he mean by this sentence?

“i`m not getting a girlfriend. i don`t need anyone.”

“but you sound like you and me are..” you couldn`t finish the sentence because when you looked up jin this time, he was looking at you directly. his eyes were set on you and you only. there was no flickering in his eyes. they were intense yet warm. for the first time in your life, you couldn`t look him in the eyes.

this is strange. this is definitely strange you said to yourself.

“we`re what?” jin asked.

“i don’t know. you said to the landlord that we`re only best friend and that we`re this familiar with each other because we know each other for a long time but you`re talking like you were lying back there.”

“and what if i was?”

“jin!” you exclaimed, squeezing your eyes shut in sudden embarrassment. what is this guy doing? you thought, he sounds so ridiculous now does he even has the slightest idea of it?

“the bus is here, we`re going. come on, hold my hands.”

“no i`m not holding your hands.”

“but you always love holding them.”

“who told you that?”

“i don`t know but i guess we`ve spent enough years together, facing a lot of things together and i think we`ve always held hands no matter what.”

“but it`s because you`ve always been with me through those days. i never meant to do it on purpose.”

because the bus has already reached the stop. you guys gave your conversation a small break to get into the bus. after securing a seat, as usual, jin giving you the window seat, you guys went back to the talk.

“you never meant to do anything on purpose. and that`s why it makes it more special. that`s why i`m not getting a girlfriend. if things go well, i want to have a future with you, y/n.”

it isn`t a usual thing when jin starts calling you by your name and you know when he does say your name, it means, he`s extremely serious at that moment. but what made your head completely blank and your mouth drop was his wish to spend even the future with you.

“jin.” you completely turned your body to your left to face his side profile. when he noticed you have your undivided attention on him, he turned his face to his right giving back his own undivided attention on you.

“you must be kidding me. are you seriously confessing to me right now? you sound like you want to make me your wife or something after we`re graduate.”

“hey that actually sounds like a nice plan too.” he pulled his right hand out of his pocket and pointed at you.

you slapped his hand away laughing and rolling your eyes at the same time. “okay! i`ll see if your plan goes well.”

you turned around and put yourself in a relaxed way against the bus seat.

“oh by the way, i will forget to say. i want chicken noodles tonight. will you cook tonight?”

“i`ll bring it to your dorm.” jin continued, “like i said, anything for you.”

according to the rule in your college, first years had to stay in the dorms so that`s why both you and jin weren`t living together for this one year.

maybe this one year made jin think of you in a way he has never had. when he saw you on the first day at the entrance of the campus, he knew something felt different. you both weren`t just childhood friends from that day. no next-door neighbours who could simply wave at each other from individual windows. no classmates just a few desks away in one room. no same dinner table at your mothers` meetups. the time spent apart this one year, the lack of interactions gave jin chances to yearn for your presence and he felt like a new person every time he finally saw you before college. probably that`s why he couldn`t resist from saying what kind of days he looks forward to with you.

you looked away from him and moved closer to the window so that you can feel the much cooler air and not just think how jin for the first time in your life brought in a heat across your neck you almost couldn`t recognize, something which only existed in the books you read before tonight.

fin.

#jin imagines #jin drabbles #jin scenarios #jin fanfics #jin text posts #jin x reader #jin fluff #jin angst #bts fanfics #bts imagines #bts text posts #bts reactions #bts letters #bts scenarios #bts posts #bts #kim seokjin #pffbts #anon requested!

67 notes · View notes

madamwinchester67 · 4 years

Text

A Life With You Part 2

Hi Everyone. I just wanted to say that I’m so sorry it took me so long to update this story. I was busy taking care of my sick mother who just passed away September 1st 😭. I hope that i can continue to update this story more frequently, but if i’m being honest, i’m winging it as I go. But feedback will deff motivate me to figure out where this story is going 🥰 Thank u to those who like it so far and without further ado, here’s Part 2. 😘 (ha! that rhymed! 😉) *sorry for any mistakes*

Growing up, you were never the one guys went after. You were never flirted with, you were never asked out on dates and you were never one to be looked at twice. You were basically invisible... until you met Dean Winchester. Maybe it was because he doesn’t judge or because he felt bad for you, either way, Dean Winchester seemed to understand you and made you feel “seen”. He listened when you spoke, gave advice when he could and made you feel wanted.

Maybe that’s why you let yourself think that Dean had feelings for you. No one had ever made an effort to care about you or make you smile like he did. No one had ever gone out of their way to make sure you felt comfortable. No one had ever made you feel loved before. Sure, Sam, Cas & Jack all care about you, but none of them treated you like Dean has so you knew they loved you like family but Dean? That was a different kind of love, or so you convinced yourself....and boy, were you wrong.

So now, here you are, in a grocery store, with a cart full of junk you just threw in there, tears in your eyes, sadness in your heart and questions on your mind.

“How do I go back to how things were? How do I act like Dean didn’t just rip my heart out of my chest? How am I going to react when I see him flirt with random women now that my feelings for him are out in the open? Even worse, how will I react when he goes off to fuck some bar skank?”

That last thought brought a fresh new batch of tears rolling down your cheeks.

“What have I gotten myself into?”

You shake your head, wipe the tears and continue with your shopping, in zombie-mode, while you try to figure out how to fix the mess you created.

Back at the Bunker, Dean goes back into the library and he’s antsy. He can’t stop thinking about you and the look on your face when he told you he doesn’t feel the same way. He can’t stop thinking about you crying inside Baby. He needs to get out... He needs to clear his head.... He needs to hunt!

He immediately opens his laptop and begins looking for a case. It doesn’t matter what kind or how dangerous it is, he needs to kill something... he needs to get rid of the guilt that’s suffocating him. You’re his best friend, the person he can confide in, the best person he knows, and now he hurt you. He was always the one defending you and protecting you from those that hurt you, he never in a million years thought he would be the one you need protecting from. It took a couple of hours but he was able to find a Salt and Burn in nearby Junction City. He bolts to his room and packs the necessary weapons he needs and once he’s done, he paces, waiting for you to return with Baby.

An hour has passed and you finally return. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is stuffy from all the crying. You know you told Dean that you were cool but now that you’ve had a few hours to think about it, you don’t have the slightest clue as to how you’re going to act around him. I mean, before you opened your mouth and said anything about your feelings, you suffered in silence everytime he went off with some bimbo for the night. You never said anything and never showed how you felt because you had no right. He had no idea how you felt but hopefully, fingers crossed, he’ll be more discreet so he doesn’t hurt you any further. The more you think about everything, the more your head hurts. You still havent recovered from your slight hangover and now the added stress of “the situation” is giving you a migraine. You need a nap.

You put the groceries and first aid items away and you go to your room, which happens to be 2 doors down from Dean’s. The moment the door closes behind you, you throw yourself face first into your bed and try to fall asleep, which, surprisingly, happens within 2 minutes.

The moment Dean hears her door close, he waits 5 minutes before sneaking out of his room. He hops into Baby and speeds out of the garage to, hopefully, relieve the immense guilt he feels.

By the time he arrives in Junction City, the salt and burn was already taken care of, much to Dean’s dismay. Since he drove all the way there for no case, he figured a stop in the local bar was called for.

He walks into the bar and almost immediately someone calls out his name. “Dean!”

Dean looks to his left and spots Garth in the corner, waving a beer in the air.

“Dean! Over here!”

Dean walks over and greets him. “Hey, Garth. What brings you around?”

“Oh, you know, a salt and burn. You?”

“That was you?! Damn, I really needed that hunt.”

A waitress comes over and takes Dean’s order of a beer and 2 shots of whiskey, neat.

“What’s wrong?” asks Garth.

Dean sighs heavily and tells him what happened between the two of you.

“Huh.”

“What?” asks Dean.

“Nothing, just, I always thought you two would get together at some point.”

Dean chokes on his beer. “Wh-what? What do you mean? We’re just friends.”

“Well, yeah, but I mean, you two are practically attached at the hip. You know each other inside and out and you argue like a married couple, so I just assumed it was a matter of time before you two made it official.”

“We’re just friends” repeats Dean, in an almost rehearsed way.

“Well, if she confessed her feelings for you, I’m pretty sure she did it because she thought you felt the same way. If you’re just friends, then what gave her the impression you had feelings for her when you don’t?” asked Garth.

“I...”

“That’s a good question” thought Dean.

Garth gets up to use the bathroom while Dean sits at the table, thinking.... until it finally hit him! Everything he does for you, the coffees, the forehead kisses, the lingering touches, carrying you to bed when you fall asleep in Baby, everything he does for you has been giving you false hope. He’s been leading you on without even realizing it and he can’t believe he had to break your heart to realize the damage he’s been doing to you. He’s sick to his stomach. How could he have been so blind?! Of course you would think he has feelings for you when he was treating you like a girlfriend.

If he thought the guilt was bad before, its nothing compared to now. At least now, he understands the guilt. He walks up to the bar and order more shots of whiskey and tells the bartender to “keep ‘em coming”.

About 4 shots in, a beautiful, busty brunette makes her way over to Dean.

“If its a distraction you need, sugar, all you have to do is ask” she says as she downs one of his shots.

Dean takes one look at her, downs his last shot and leaves the bar with her. He knows going home with the brunette isn’t going to solve anything, but he’s clearly not thinking straight and decides to just “go with the flow”.

The next morning, or rather, early afternoon, you wake up with puffy eyes and a headache. You rub your eyes and take a nice deep inhale and exhale. You’ve had the night to sleep on it and you have come to a conclusion. You decided that your friendship with Dean was way too important to you and something you refuse to lose. So, starting today, you’re going to put your feelings for him aside and be his friend. You now know that his nice gestures were simply that.... nice gestures. They didn’t mean what you thought they meant and maybe if you act like everything is fine, then it will be. You got up and used the bathroom. You made sure to wash your face and tried to get rid those puffy eyes. When you thought you looked semi-presentable, you went out to the kitchen, where you found Sam.

“Morning, Sammy. How was the hunt? How are Jody and the girls doing?”

“Morning, Munchkin.” says Sam as he gets up and gives her a bear hug.

“The hunt was good. Easy vamp nest. Jody and the girls are good, they say “hi” and that they miss you”

“Aww. I miss them too! I’m going to have to go visit them soon.”

As you make your way over to the coffee pot, Sam is looking at you. Even though you’re trying to act as if your heart wasn’t broken, Sam could tell something happened while he was gone because when he got home, the impala wasn’t in the garage and it looks like you have been crying. Sam adores you and sees you as a little sister so if someone hurt you, he’d do anything to protect you.

“Where’s Dean?”

You look at him confused. “Dean’s not here?”

“No. The impala’s not in the garage.” says Sam as he gauges your reaction.

As soon as Sam said that Baby wasn’t in the garage, you immediately felt sick to your stomach.

All you can think is, “I drove him away. Literally. My confession made him so uncomfortable he couldn’t stand to be under the same roof as me. I ruined it. I ruined our friendship. I ruined everything!”

As you’re thinking, your eyes begin to water. You don’t realize it until Sam calls your name.

“Munchkin, are you ok?”

You realize you were staring off into space, so you look at him and will your tears not to fall down your face.

“Y-yeah, I-“

Suddenly, the Bunker door loudly opens and Dean’s footsteps can be heard coming down the stairs. You immediately stiffen and freeze, something Sam doesn’t miss.

Dean walks into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water but stops as soon as he sees you and Sam.

Acting as if nothing’s wrong he says, “Hey Sammy”. He looks at you, swallows hard and says, “Hey, Y/N”.

Those tears you were so desperately trying to keep at bay begin to fall down your face like a waterfall. Dean, almost forgetting what happened the day before, tries to comfort you but you just walk right past him and go straight to your room.

“What happened, Dean?”

Dean is at a loss. He simply shrugs his shoulders and walks past Sam and goes to his room as well.

Once in his room, he takes off his jacket and flannel and goes over to his sink and splashes water over his face. When he looks in the mirror his heart nearly stops, because right there, on the left side of his neck, clear as day, is the hickey the brunette from the night before left on him. He has to take a step back he’s so shocked!

No wonder you left the kitchen with tears cascading down your face. Not only did he reject your feelings and sneak out without you hearing or noticing, but you probably think he purposefully went looking to sleep with anyone that wasn’t you just so he could get your confession out of his head.

If your heart was broken before, it’s shattered into sand now and its all his fault. Tears well up in his eyes and they slowly start to fall down his face as he asks himself, “What have I done?”

@hobby27

@sacrosankta

@22sarah08

@alurits

@multi-fan-lover

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #angst #baby #dean winchester #unrequited love #sam winchester

42 notes · View notes