#i fucking puke almost once a day and just the fact that it even stops is a massive improvement from last year
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can someone can twist my arm behind my back until i sit down and eat an actual, full, nutritionally sound meal to completion
#ive had such a hard time eating lately and ive been getting sick again but eating is so unpleasant and difficult#and sometimes helps sometimes just makes me feel sicker but i know not eating makes it worse#and i know the more i put off eating the sicker ill feel and the more trying to eat will maje it worse but i !!!! cant !!!!!!!#i either forget bc my appetite doesnt exist or i feel so sick it takes me hours of barley sipping to finish a cup of broth#and even than sometimes i just get sick!!!! and start puking!! even when im good and when i eat and do everything im supposed to !!!!#ill just wake up and immediately have to hug a toilet until a) it stops long enough that i can keeps my meds down#b) i cant stop puking and i have to go to the fucking hospital to get an IV of anti neasua stuff so i can take my seizure meds#and than i end up there for days longer than i need to bc they ALWAYS find something secondary wrong with me to milk my medicade#sorry rant over for now im so tired of being sick all the time i cant even remember a time i wasnt at least a 2 on a 0-10 neasua scale#and thats a good day tbh#i fucking puke almost once a day and just the fact that it even stops is a massive improvement from last year#but god i just want one day where im not scared im gonna randomly start barfing like someone fed me epicat sryup#or how ever you spell the emergency vomiting drink stuff u know
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tldr: suguru as a child/early teenager and his journey as a sorcerer after he meets you, his new neighbor.
cw: mentions of vomiting, not in-depth. not edited, not beta-read, rushed, and possibly ooc suguru. gender neutral and sorcerer!reader.
a/n: sigh... i’m so tired. probably when i wake up i’ll actually edit it, but i just needed to get something out, so maybe consider this a lil teaser...? i might make a second part expanding on how he ends up going to jjt n then whenever he defects, but im absolutely exhausted rn. exams have been kicking my ass </3 + im going to a festival so this might not be edited for a lil while longer. sorry yall!
a part of me thinks suguru would live in some small, unknown little town. the people are closed-minded, content with the life they’ve built for themselves, and they don’t want it to change. if you’re born there, it’s hard to get out, especially with such few opportunities. it’s a town meant to keep aspiring little doves caged within its walls.
so imagine some six, maybe seven year-old boy going around saying he sees monsters sometimes. of course, the first conclusion any adult would reach is that the poor thing is having nightmares. he’ll grow out of it — all of them do.
but suguru doesn’t.
he’s afraid to sleep at night, and despite his parents’ pleas for him to sleep in their bed, he says that he can’t. “what if you get hurt too?”
they end up having to sneak melatonin in his dinner to get him to sleep at night.
when he turns eleven, he gets a grasp on his technique. he has to eat the monsters, consume them so that they don’t go out and hurt anyone else. that’s easy enough, right?
for the first few weeks, he vomits. they taste disgusting, like dried, crusty rags used to clean up puke and shit. but he has to do it, he has to! otherwise, who’s going to keep his innocent parents safe?
so he keeps going. exorcise, consume, puke. exorcise, consume, puke. exorcise, consume, puke.
exorcise and consume.
then, at age twelve, you come along.
you’re like the sun peeking through the dark clouds after days full of rain and thunder. a breath of fresh air, a sugary treat to balance out the saltiness of this shitty town.
you move into the once abandoned house right beside his, a radiant smile on your face and eyes twinkling with determination.
beautiful, perfect, normal.
the two of you click almost instantly, although suguru’s a little reluctant at first — what if you think he’s weird? his parents and teachers say he’s a bit troubled, nosy neighbors joke that he’s a few sandwiches short of a picnic, and bored grandmas claim he’s been touched by the devil. despite their rumors, despite suguru’s reputation, despite the fact you two are polar opposites, you don’t avoid him. in fact, it’s like those things just entice you even more.
“suguru.”
the fear in your voice catches him off-guard, and he stops walking. your hand grips the hem of his jacket, and your finger slowly raises to point towards the corner.
“what is that?”
it’s a crude thing. skin a dingy shade of purple, stubby limbs twisted and contorted into impossible angles, and jagged yellow teeth that poke past its thin, cracked lips.
that’s when he realizes it: you can see them too.
he’s not alone. finally, fucking finally, suguru geto is not alone.
by thirteen, you and suguru are attached at the hip. there’s not a day where the two of you don’t see each other, even when you get grounded for accidentally breaking a bathroom stall trying to exorcise a curse.
they’re so ungrateful.
he’s tainted your image. you were once normal, the cute neighbor nextdoor, but now you’re best friends with suguru, the pretty boy with the strange bangs and broken mind.
you don’t care though, and he loves that you never have.
nothing can separate you. you go to school together, take the same classes (thanks to suguru modifying his schedule), walk home together, exorcise curses together.
you’re all he needs, and he’s all you need. you’re the only ones who understand each other on a fundamental level, who know each other inside and out, down to the very last atom in your bodies.
with you, he’s sure that he can snap the chain and leave this place, to soar so high in the sky that there’s nothing and no one left but you and him.
you hand suguru his slushie, and he takes a long sip, letting the sugar-filled drink wash away the lingering taste of today’s curse.
“sometimes, i think we’re kinda like batman and superman.”
suguru can’t help but scoff. “us? you think we’re superheroes?” how unsurprisingly childish of you.
you nod, snapping your kit-kat bar in half and taking a bite out of it. “yeah, dude! we fight alien bad guys with our superpowers. pretty cool, right?”
he leans back, legs spread and an arm resting on the back of the bench. “sure, but they always get rewarded for saving the day. what do we get?” he doesn’t wait for your answer. “nothing.��
a small frown flits across your typically cheerful features, and suguru wishes he could shove his words back into his mouth and down his throat.
“mm... i think we get stuff. we get to see our parents safe, and even if no one else here really likes us, they’re safe thanks to us, too.” the toe of your shoe traces shapes into the pavement. “we’re the only ones that can do this, suguru. it’s our duty.”
right. duty.
suguru hums, but you can’t tell whether it’s in agreement or not. you decide that it doesn’t matter, that he’s just thinking like always.
“wish i was rich, though," you joke and pop the rest of your little kit-kat stick into your mouth.
after a moment, he shakes his head and takes a sip of his bright purple drink. “me too.”
#jjk#jjk geto#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#geto suguru#suguru geto#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#🪵 – writing
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Roller Skates - Robin Buckley
Summary: Summer in Hawkins. Robin has a hopeless crush on one of her customers with roller skates and mini skirts. Steve decides to step in and the crush turns out to be nowhere as hopeless as it has once seemed.
Warning: none
Words: 7,9k
Notes: likes are cool and all, but if you stop by to let me know what you thought about this, it will, in fact, make my day
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“How do I look?!”
Steve peeked at her from behind the shelves, his eyebrows knitting together as he stared at her in utter confusion. “What?”
“How do I look?” Robin repeated, articulating every word with extra care to a point that it almost looked scary from where Steve was standing. As if that wouldn’t make the message clear enough, she used her hands to gesticulate around herself wildly.
“I heard you.” Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m not deaf,” he pointed out. Inspired by her previous actions, he also used his hands, tapped his ear and then showed her thumbs up.
Robin did not seem to be amused, however, and simply pierced him with a glare.
“I just don’t know /why/ is that suddenly an issue,” he reasoned while looking around. “There’s no one in here and -,” he cut himself off once his eyes landed on the clock across the room. “Oh...”
And here it was, the well-known Tammy Thompson oh. Aka coming out oh. Aka getting your heart shattered into millions of pieces in a dirty bathroom after puking your whole insides type of oh, as he liked to dramatically call it, just for the sake of teasing her.
Though the use of it now was nowhere near as dramatic. It meant only one thing. A hot girl in the area. Well, technically, you weren’t in their vicinity /yet/, but you were about to be within a couple of minutes. You always were. Right on the dot.
“Right. Oh...” Robin nodded her head and stared over at him with her eyes opened wide, still waiting for him to answer her initial question.
Steve shoved the tapes he had been handling back to the shelves before walking out of the aisle. “She always comes here on Saturday before the closing time. Good thing that now we know better than to have already cleaned the floors because once she storms in here on those skates...”
“Exactly. She’s going to be here in nine minutes, and you are being literally /no help/. She’s going to push through the door at an ultrasonic speed, looking all dolled-up in that skirt of hers, smelling of cherries and smiling at us both with those incredibly kissable pink lips while she’s going to skate between those shelves, hair swaying in every direction with how quickly and carelessly she spins around and yet... somehow when she stops, the hair is perfect. Not a single one out of place. She’s not even wearing a helmet, for fuck’s sake!”
“She probably doesn’t go that fast to need one, I guess,” Steve offered with a shrug of his shoulders while he moved closer to the counter that she was occupying. He froze for a moment, though, when Robin held her pointer finger up and made him wonder whether he had done something wrong.
“No. But... she’s skating by the road and some stupid driver can hit her and...”
Steve shook his head, face pulled in confusion. “You can get hit by a car, too. Even when you are just walking. Should we all start wearing helmets?”
Robin’s mouth opened for a bit before she allowed it to close again, taking a moment to think about it properly before she nodded.
“Well, maybe we should,” Robin decided and then shook her head, shutting her eyes closed for a second to show she was done with that conversation. “That’s /so/ not the point though... The point is that she will be here soon, looking like a freaking angel on wheels, while I might be here with spinach stuck in my teeth.”
“You didn’t even have spinach today,” Steve reminded but gave her thumbs up when she flashed her teeth at him, anyway. “You look good.” He finally said the things she needed to hear, causing her to let out a sigh of relief.
Only to bring up something she did /not/ need or want to hear at all.
“You should really just ask her to hang out with you.” His voice was soft and caring, but it still sent her into a panic.
Robin laughed nervously and looked away from him, focusing on adjusting the stationery that they had laying around. “No. No. No fucking way. Not in a /million/ years. Not a chance I’m doing that. Definitely not.”
“I am not telling you to ask for her hand in marriage!” Steve exclaimed and rubbed his hand over his face while he leaned against the opposite side of the counter that she was at. He understood she was nervous and scared. Hell, asking someone out could be a bit nerve-wracking experience as it was. Let alone in a situation like hers, when her chances of scoring were sadly much lower than his. “Look...,” he tried and shifted his body so that he could look at her, “all you gotta say is this: You’re great at skating, and I’ve just got a pair from a friend...”
“I didn’t get a pair from a friend,” Robin objected, blinking at him confusedly. Brows furrowing when he threw his head back with a sigh. Composing himself again, he put on a bright smile when he looked at her.
“No. But she doesn’t know that, does she?” He pointed out and reached over the counter to flick her nose. “If she says yes, we’re going to find you a pair of skates to use no problem just-“
“Evening!” Your voice filled up the store the moment the entrance door flew open, and you made your way in. “Am I interrupting something?” No one said anything, but you could feel that had arrived into a situation you probably shouldn’t have.
Steve raised his hand in a little wave, acknowledging your presence, while Robin quickly shook her head.
“Hey! No, no. Nothing,” she assured you, smiling while she pushed Steve’s hand away from her face. “There’s nothing to interrupt. We were just talking about...” The way she fell silent, looking for the right words, only amplified the thoughts in your mind that were pointing out that you definitely arrived at the wrong time.
Even Steve found the moment of quiet weird and glanced at her with the side of his eye, prompting her to say something.
“Stuff.” She finally said in the end, her lips still curled up into a wide smile that faltered somewhat awkwardly a second later. Stuff? Couldn’t she think of something else? Something less.... sketchy? She shrugged her shoulders a bit, defending herself when she noticed Steve rolling his eyes, obviously disappointed with her answer almost as much as she was with herself. If not even worse.
You nodded your head softly, lips pursed slightly in contemplation. “Stuff sounds interesting,” you agreed, and then stopped beside Steve at the counter. You threw your backpack on the surface and pulled out the pile of movies you needed to return.
You passed them over the counter to her. “Do you need me to.... or can I?” You waved to the shelves behind you. Usually, you wouldn’t mind sticking by the counter. Quite the opposite, actually. As silly as it was, you enjoyed watching her while she worked. Painted nails, clicking the keyboard, frowning when something was wrong, only for her pretty blue eyes to light up right after when she got it sorted. She trashed your movie taste every time, and you were more than willing to let her, suggesting that maybe she would have changed her mind if she actually watched it.
Perhaps if she watched it with you. Well, you never said this part out loud. But you did think about it. A lot.
“You can go,” Robin confirmed, releasing you from sliding your skates on the floor while remaining in one place.
“If there’s something wrong, let me know. I’ll be right over there so that you can go back to... stuff.”
You disappeared between the shelves, stopping in front of the one holding the newest releases.
“You skate a lot, huh?” Steve asked a couple of moments later, his head suddenly popping up in the same aisle you were in. Steve stepped closer and casually leaned his side against one of the shelves. Promptly, you spun around to face him, moving backwards ever so slightly while your eyes widened in a faked surprise.
“Do I?” You gasped and you could swear that you heard Robin snort somewhere in the distance. It was a shame that you didn’t get to see it. A part of you wondered whether she had crinkled her nose the same way it did a couple of other times when you saw her laugh. “It’s way faster than walking, you know,” you explained and grabbed three tapes before moving to a different section. You made sure to check Robin. No crinkled nose in sight, but her lips were spread into a large smile.
Guess you could also consider that one a win.
“Slower than driving, though,” Steve retorted.
“Yup, that sounds about right. But I don’t have a driving license, my bike got stolen and I don’t really click with the one I got. Plus, this is waaay more fun.” You added one more VHS into your arms and got to the check-out desk with just a couple of long strides.
“I’ll take these.” You pushed the VHS over to her with a grin. “Don’t judge me too hard on these. They are for my granny.”
“You know what? This one time, I was ready to give you a compliment.” She smirked and raised one of them into the air. “Because this one? Absolute gold. Tell your grandma she has /amazing/ taste and maybe she /should/ influence you a little. The number of times you rented out Xanadu is becoming quite embarrassing for all of us.” Robin teased before her eyes went all wide. “Not that I’m keeping track of how many times you rented a shitty musical with Olivia Newton-John. Well, technically, I do. I have to. We have the system. But it’s not like I keep a /personal/ tracker of what you do. I don’t. That would be weird.”
You watched her expressive face, unable to stop yourself from smiling.
As if he had nothing better to do, Steve jogged over to you and rested his forearms on the counter right next to where you were standing. Ruining your little alone moment with her. Again.
“The stuff we were talking about earlier was how you always come here with these on,” he said, nodding down to your feet.
“And how you make the whole skating thing look super easy. So...,” he cleared his throat,” I was wondering if you /maybe/ have a free afternoon some time to... you know, give a bit of a helping hand to a complete beginner. Saturday evening works too! I mean, you are already coming here anyway and so you’d just stay around a bit longer. Me and-“
Your lips pressed into a thin line for a second as you listened to him talk, but you mustered up a smile before interrupting him. “I’m sorry, but no.”
You took your eyes off Robin, who was still scanning Xanadu because it was acting up, and glanced at him. His expression was hopeful, expecting, and you felt a droplet of sweat run down your back. That was definitely caused by the heat, you assured yourself, although the air-conditioning in the store was running at its max.
Steve was a cool guy. Very good-looking, too. He had a bit of reputation going on of trying to swoon all and every conventionally pretty girl of the right age in town. Though the succession rate did not seem to be too high, at least as far as you knew from what you over-heard around the store when you visited.
You had no interest in taking any part in that for more reasons than just that one. The main, of course, being that there was someone different right there in the store with you who appealed to you much more.
Going out with him would just be a huge waste of time for the both of you. You just needed to find a good enough excuse. A gentle rejection so that neither of you would have to feel awkward the next time you would come to get your movies.
Maybe the truth would be the best. Or some of it, at least. “I... I don’t do boys right now.”
You didn’t see it, but Robin spat out a bit of her water that she just sipped, causing Steve to almost pull a face when he saw her wipe her chin with the back of her hand. Smudging something she had scribbled on it earlier, which also left a bit of a black mark on her chin. On some days, he really did believe that she was a lost cause.
“I promised myself that this would be a boy-less summer. There was a bit of a nasty break-up earlier this year and I... I deserve some time alone. Healing. Finding myself and that whole thing, you know,” you tried to explain.
He blinked at you a couple of times in surprise before he chuckled and tapped his fingers on the counter. “Okay. Good for you. Point taken, I guess, but I didn’t mean that you’d be helping me or /doing/ me... I was talking about Rob.”
“Oh!” you gasped, mentally slapping yourself for interrupting him earlier. “Then that should not be a problem.” You shook your head a bit too fast and then turned it to her again. “Sure. Right. We can totally do that.” Immediately, your eyes were drawn to the smudge on her chin, which was definitely not there a minute ago.
“You’ve got something…” You raised your hand to your own face to serve her as a mirror, showing her where the ‘something’ was. “I would have never guessed that this could be something you’d be interested in,” you admitted to her your surprise while she seemed to be rubbing her hand all over her chin except on that one place.
“Wait,” you stopped her and leaned over, pressing your thumb against the black mark and then rubbing it away. The pink in her cheeks turned into a deep red, and you offered her a little, somewhat reassuring smile. “Black marker is the worst. I always have smudges of it everywhere.” You couldn’t remember the last time something like this happened to you, but the chuckle she left out made you feel better about the little white lie you just said. “All good. Pretty as always,” you informed her playfully and pulled your hand back.
The realisation that you had just touched her face without any type of invitation hit you only now. Your eyes rushed to move away from you and landed on the pile of video tapes you were good to take now. You fished out the correct amount of money from your small pocket. The dollar bills and change prepared in advance. You’ve already learnt that doing the math and scattering the right amount while those beautiful blue eyes watched you was almost impossible. “I’m pretty sure you’ve called my skates a deadly device at least twice.”
“Three times,” Robin confirmed, taking the money from you. “Which is obviously more than twice, so there was no need for me to be correcting you like that,” she muttered mostly to herself, so you caught just a word here and there.
“I still stand by that opinion,” she continued confidently while she put the money away. You heard Steve clear his throat nearby. “But we’re all going to die, sooner or later, anyway. And this, at least, seems like a sort of fun way to go. Cooler too, better than choking on a jelly bean or something.”
You listened to her, a smile tugging on the corners of your mouth while you packed your stuff.
“I’ll see you next week, then.”
“Okay!”
“Okay.” Your grin mirrored hers as you spun around and headed towards the door, adjusting the backpack on your back.
“As in, you’ll come back to return these, or as in, you’ll see me risking my life while standing on one of the most ridiculous devices man has ever created?”
You chuckled and made a little spin to face her.
“Both.”
****
“What’s the smell?” Steve said over the thump of the box he just set down on the counter.
Robin looked at him over her shoulder, pushing the trolley with tapes in front of her.
“Smell? What smell? I don’t smell anything.” She shook her head before she turned away from him again.
“I told you to not allow the kid with the puppy in here. Was it adorable? Absolutely. I would give up my life for that little dumb face, but it changes nothing about the fact that puppies are the worst. They pee everywhere and that’s probably what you’re smelling. I had puppy-sat a puppy once and-“
“It doesn’t smell like pee,” he interrupted her and walked over to the aisle she was in. Steve moved around, sniffing before he got close enough to her, and his eyes went wide. “It’s you.”
“I stink?” The terror was clear on her face when she asked him that. Her gaze fell to her wristwatch. She still had a bit of time. Technically speaking, she probably could rush to the back and freshen up some more before you are would come to pick her up.
Maybe you wouldn’t even come to pick her up, after all. Maybe you were just being polite when you agreed to last week. Maybe you’d come up with an excuse why the two of you can’t hang out. Or maybe you wouldn’t come at all and you would just mail the rented movies along with a late return fee, never seeing her again…
She raised her arm up slightly to check the stink situation in her pits when Steve quickly shook his head.
“What? No. Not at all,” he assured her, causing her to drop her arm down to the side again. “In fact, it’s very nice.” Steve took some tapes from the trolley to help her put them in place.
“You know, like girls often wear these overly sweet perfumes when they go on a date? It’s almost like that, but not quite. It’s more… masculine? But not to the point of when you would smell it and immediately think of a dude. More in terms of thinking ‘huh, whoever was the person who was wearing this, they have a fancy event happening,’” he explained, not even trying to hold back his smirk while he kept glancing at her every other second.
“Well, thank you.” His words calmed her down a bit, but the feeling of his eyes on her made her sigh out. “What now?”
“I told you it’s a date, and you gave me a lecture about how you being a lesbian doesn’t make every interaction you share with a woman automatically homosexual… I just find it funny how, even though it is not a date, you are still treating it like one.”
“I’m not!” She exclaimed, cursing when she accidentally dropped one of the cassettes. “It’s just a perfume…”
“Which you never wear around me, mind you,” Steve persisted.
“Whatever,” Robin scoffed. “It’s not a date.”
“It so is. Haven’t you heard? She, and now let me quote. Doesn’t do boys.”
“Right now,” she immediately reminded. “She doesn’t do boys, right now.” Robin remembered the quote very well. It had left her turning in her bed for three nights before she talked herself into dropping it, and decided to focus on the latter part instead.
Steve rolled his eyes. “Her entire face lit up when she found out that she could be hanging out with you. And /I/ felt like /I/ was interrupting ‘stuff’ when she cleaned your fa-”
“Don’t. Don’t even remind me of that,” Robin whined. Not only was it embarrassing, but every time she thought back to that moment, to the feeling of having your hand rub against her skin, she could feel her cheeks starting to burn up.
He stopped when they both reached to get some tapes and his eyes found her mouth. Without a word, Steve grabbed her chin and leaned closer, taking a good look at the shade of her lips. “You’ve got a different lip colour, too,” he noticed, chuckling when she pushed his hand away. “You are ready for a date.”
“Shut up.” Robin turned away from him.
“Plus, I invested my hard-earned money in this already. It’s gotta work.”
“No one has asked you for that.” Robin shot him a look. She still couldn’t believe that he got her involved in this. She was going to make a complete fool of herself in front of a girl she adored. All because of him and his stupid mouth.
On the other hand, though, when she made sure not to focus on the whole potentially dying part, she was going to spend some time with you all alone. Which was pretty cool and way more than she could ever achieve by herself. All thanks to him and his stupid mouth. Part of her was feeling bad for not being able to give him the money for the skates just yet. “I’m going to give you half of the money back next week, and then the rest,” she added.
“You don’t have to give me the money back at all. It’s a gift.” Steve pushed into the trolley and began to move away.
“My birthday is in March. And you gave me a gift then.”
“I didn’t say it was a birthday gift. Just a gift. People do that for each other sometimes, you know,” he said loudly enough from the next aisle. “I won’t take any money from you. Take it as a thank you for taking over my shifts earlier.”
“You know I got, like, officially paid for those, right? It’s not like I took them for free,” Robin stated.
She couldn’t see him, but she could hear him sigh heavily. “Then take it as a payment for your silence ‘til the rest of your shift.”
Robin stayed quiet for a bit before she nodded. “Yup. I guess I can do that,” she confirmed, not wanting to argue with him any further. “Thank you,” Robin peeped out a moment later.
“You’re welcome.”
“You’re the best, you know. Very annoying at times, but the best nonetheless, or maybe because of it. The line is a bit blurred there, hon-”
“Silence,” he reminded. His voice was somewhat stern, but she caught his little smile in the reflection in the window.
However, the smile was not the only thing she caught in there and she glanced down at her watch again.
No. This was way too soon. There should be about fifteen minutes left before you would show up. She didn’t have the time to check her hair, or the new lipstick. Nor did she get to take off that stupid, disgusting little vest, or re-apply the perfume, just to make sure.
Every week you showed up exactly on time, and now, when it mattered the most, you had to change your schedule. It threw her off guard.
Maybe if she knew that the reason for this sudden change was that you simply couldn’t wait any longer after stressing out about it the whole day, it would made her feel a bit better. But it wasn’t like you were planning to share any of that with her.
No. She didn’t have to know about any of that. She didn’t need to. It was a little harmless secret that did not need to be shared.
“You’re early.” These words greeted you as soon as you entered the store, causing you to stop for a second by the door.
“Am I?” you asked cluelessly, your eyes searching for the clock in the room before you let out a little huff. “I didn’t even realise, I… is it a problem?” You wondered, slowly skating further into the store, heading straight to the counter.
“Well,” Robin started out, “... no. Of course not,” she assured you, shaking her head. “It’s just… you might have to wait a bit longer before I’ll be able to leave, so like, if you still need to go somewhere, or something, it’s all good.”
You laid out the casettes on the counter while your eyes followed her as she moved over the room to get closer to you. “Hi,” you greeted her with a little grin, once she was standing opposite to you. “I don’t mind waiting a bit,” you confirmed, your fingers tapping against the surface as you watched her do her work. “I can just hang around a bit… If that’s okay with you.”
“No,” Steve interrupted the little conversation, and you were ashamed to admit that you hadn’t even noticed him in the room earlier. The two of you looked at him, one pair of eyes looking guilty for even suggesting that, while the other stared at him in utter disbelief.
“You don’t have to wait,” he specified, shoulders shrugging. “You can leave earlier. It’s usually dead at this hour, anyway. I’ll be fine.”
You looked from him to Robin as she raised her brows. “You sure?”
“Yeah, yeah. One hundred per cent.” He walked over to behind the counter and pushed her slightly out of the way. “Go get your stuff and get out of here before I change my mind.”
The moment he said it, Robin dropped the Xanadu VHS and rushed away, heading to the back of the store. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she called over her shoulder, not even bothering to look back. She stopped only when she reached the door and glanced at you. “I’ll be back in a minute. Two or three tops,” she promised before she disappeared and left you in the front alone with Steve.
At first, he took care of your returns without a word, barely paying you any attention at all. “You’re not going to rent out any new ones?” He wondered.
You shook your head simply. “No. I usually drop them off at home and then go out again. I wouldn’t want to break them or lose them if I just kept dragging them alone tonight.”
“Hm,” Steve hummed out. “Makes sense,” he admitted before placing his hand on the counter near yours. “Guess my job is done here, then.”
“I guess it is.”
You really didn’t need anything else from him at the moment, but he stayed still, eyeing you carefully. “Is that a new lipstick?”
The question surprised you, but you shook your head anyway. “No. I keep wearing this one all the time. And it’s a lip gloss, actually.”
“Yeah, right… Well, Robin likes it.”
“I know,” you admitted, trying your best to fight back the smile that threatened to creep up onto your cheeks. You still remembered the compliment she gave you a couple of weeks back, and you made sure to wear this specific colour every time you came to visit the store.
“You do, huh?” He mused.
You were starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. His inquisitive eyes digging right into you as if he were looking for something specific. Could he be onto something? Could he know you were into his friend?
Robin’s return luckily stopped the panicking train of thoughts in your mind. “So…,” she cleared her throat as she looked over at you. Backpack on her back, roller skates in her hand. “Are we really doing this?” She was really trying to not let the nervosity show, and the smile you shot her then didn’t exactly help.
Falling on her ass was one thing. Seeing you smile like that all alone for who knew how long another. Maybe worrying about not getting her hands on knee pads shouldn’t have been her main concern.
“Absolutely.” You threw your backpack on and turned around, heading towards the door. “Let’s go.”
****
Visiting the ruins of what used to be the Starcourt Mall definitely wasn’t something she expected herself to do that day. Or ever, actually. The Russians had stopped haunting her dreams only not so long ago, and well, the monsters were still present in them. But lately, you’d been in her dreams, too.
She didn’t have it in her to talk you out of going to that place. What would she tell you anyway? The truth could not be an option, and the lies known to the public would just make tonight’s ‘not-a-date’ into a pity party if she’d let you know she was there during the fire.
And so she got on the bus with no further complaints, carefully sitting beside you on the seat. Doing everything in her power to not let your bodies touch, while you both eavesdropped on the couple sitting across from you.
The dramatic show was about to end when they reached their stop, a factory on the outskirts of the town, just one stop before the Starcourt stop.
“Get up.” You stood up beside her. She looked up at you. Blue eyes wide open in confusion.
“We need to get off at the next one,” she stated while the other passengers emptied the bus already as well.
“No. This is the final one. The bus doesn’t go there anymore. I mean, there’s kind of no reason for that now,” you explained. “We’re going to have to walk a bit.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Quickly, she grabbed her backpack and her skates off the floor and got up, rushing to get off as the driver in the front already started to complain.
You made it out of the bus only in your socks and then put your skates back on on the bench nearby. She didn’t follow your example just yet, and you didn’t expect her to. You had agreed that the Starcourt parking lot would be your training ground. The terrain there was smooth despite the hell right next to it, and there was no danger in the form of passing cars.
You probably wouldn’t meet many of them on your way there by the side of the road, but it was still better to not put her at any unnecessary risk.
Especially when she had only spent about five minutes standing on them, apparently.
You skated beside her slowly, stealing secret glances at her in the setting sun. She was, undoubtedly, the most enchanting person you’ve ever laid your eyes on. You thought you did a good job keeping those looks sneaky and all that, but she locked your eyes with hers at one point.
“Please don’t tell me I have something on my face again,” she whined, raising one of her hands up to her face.
“No,” you chuckled and shook your head. “I was just, um, looking.”
“Right. Because you have a working pair of eyes. And that’s what people usually do with them.” She felt like an idiot for reading more meaning in it than there was to it.
“Race to that sign over there?” You suggested playfully, changing the focus to something else than your creepy staring and pointed to the sign that once used to welcome the customers upon their arrival to the Starcourt grounds.
Robin laughed. “Doesn’t seem like a very fair race to me.”
You turned around, slowly backing away from her. “Why? I might have skates, but you had literally spent most of your life running up and down the soccer field….”
She hissed a bit, head leaning to one side. “You know, me getting into that team was an act of desperation more than anything else. They didn’t have enough players, and I act very fast. And clumsy, too. So the opponents were just very confused most of the time. I kept them on the edge of their seat.”
“I saw some of your matches. My cousin used to be in your team, too. I’m pretty sure you scored some goals…” Your eyes squinted at her doubtfully.
“Pure luck.”
“Passion,” you corrected her. “You probably are the least co-ordinated and the most chaotic soccer player that I’ve ever seen,” you chuckled, making Robin laugh. “But when you set your mind on getting that ball into the net, nothing could stop you.”
She smiled wide, her eyes squinting while your heart sped up.
“Now just get your mind on getting your ass to the sign before I do.” You grinned before you spun around and set out.
Robin was right. It was not a fair race, but you still expected her to give it at least a try. You heard nothing behind you though and so you turned around to get a look at what she was doing.
With the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of her goofily running over the grass.
“Hey!” you exclaimed, baffled at the sight of her being much closer to the sign than you were. No matter how fast you would try to go, there was no chance that you would beat her now. Still, you were not going to give up just like that and attempted to race her. The colourful wheels of your skates quickly sliding over the asphalt.
“Thanks! Setting my mind on getting here before you really helped!” She called out, panting while she waved at your approaching figure. Her side was burning but seeing you speed towards her, face pulled in concentration while the fabric of your skirt dancing around your thighs quickly with every move was definitely worth it.
“Fuck you,” you breathed out once you joined her and she laughed.
“Never took you for a sore loser,” Robin teased, but you couldn’t even be mad.
“We’re going to see who’s going to be sore next.” You took off your backpack and handed it over to her. She took it from you automatically, though her expression made it obvious that she didn’t really know why.
“There’s a helmet and some protective pads. Gloves, too. I think they should fit,” you explained.
“You serious?” She gasped. “You are a lifesaver, literally. Steve kind of forgot about this pa-,” Robin cut herself off while you just blinked at her. “That’s… nevermind. Thank you. They’ll definitely come in useful.” She sat down on the ground in order to change into her skates.
It was kind of adorable to watch her carefully put on all the pads, adjusting them a couple of times to make sure that they fit her right.
She was adorable.
Absolutely delightful.
“Good to go?” You asked once she seemed somewhat content with the state of her protection gear.
“Not really,” Robin admitted. If she would to survive this, she was definitely going to kick Steve’s ass with those skates. That was for sure.
“Get on your knees.”
Her eyes narrowed on you as if it would help her understand what you just said better. “I’m sorry?”
“Look.” You lowered yourself onto the ground. “It’s the easiest way to get up,” you reasoned, before showing her how to get up on her own.
Two minutes later and there she was, standing even taller beside you now when she had those extra inches under her feet. “Well, that was easy,” she commented despite all the previous lamenting.
“Told you.” You grinned at her and then reached your hands out towards her.
You had thought about this moment countless of times. You wondered how would it feel to have her hand in yours, and you felt a slight fear when you offered your hands out to her to take.
There was nothing weird about this, right? You were just offering her some help. She still hesitated, though. You could see it right there in her expression, the precious face too expressive for her own good.
“I know I needed a bit of support the first time I stood on there but you don’t have to-” you started, slowly allowing for your hands to start to drop when she suddenly grabbed them. The sudden move causing her to lose some stability and held onto her tightly to prevent her from falling down.
“A bit of support sounds good,” Robin finally let out once she was somewhat securely stood on her feet again. “I guess I just spaced out, sorry,” she mumbled when she looked at you and for a second you could swear that you saw something rather familiar flash in her eyes.
Just for a moment, the anxiety of having a dangerous secret that cannot be exposed seeping through the both of you.
It was excruciating how well her palms fit in yours. By the time the sun was completely gone and the parking lot was illuminated by the night sky and a couple of lamp posts that were still working, you’d grown way too used to the feeling of her hold on your hands. She held onto you tightly, too afraid of falling for someone whose knees were already bruised. The only time she ever let go of you being when she fell. She always dropped them right in the moment when it was obvious there was not a way for you to save her.
The better she got, the less support she needed. Due to the progress, one hand had turned into being just enough of help.
With the two of rolling round the parking lot side by side, your hands joined as you clasped the other carefully. You were feeling proud, really proud of how well she was doing. But you simply couldn’t help but dread the next step when she wouldn’t need your help at all.
You were not ready to let go of her yet.
“I must admit, this is way more fun than I expected it to be,” Robin confessed over the sound of cicadas around you. “No wonder you basically never take them off.”
You had tried to not look at her too much now. The embarrassment of getting caught earlier was still present and burning in your mind. You allowed yourself to look at her better now, though, smiling.
“Yeah. I especially like skating late in the evening,” you admitted. “Once you get the hang of it, and the streets are empty and you are just…,” you started out, “it just feels like you can do everything, you know? You could be anyone. It feels like you are the only person on Earth.” It was stupid, you realised that as soon as the words left your mouth, but it was too late to take them back now. The best you could do was to play it down and make it sound less… kooky.
“You can also scream to let the frustration out. That one helps, a lot,” you added after finishing the dance with a little pirouette.
However, she spoke out before you could. “Well, not everything…” Robin squeezed your hand and even she wasn’t sure if she did it because she needed the support as you took a took or if she squeezed it just because she could.
“Yes, everything. No one is here to see, to judge.” You dropped her hand and moved away from her, doing an awkward little dance. Your chest filled with warmth when she laughed, her nose scrunched up and eyes squinted in almost into just a tiny line.
“You can sing…,” you cleared out throat before erupting into a song while rolling closer to her and swirling around where she was slowly skating all by herself. The song didn’t ring any of Robin’s bells for a while until the word ‘Xanadu’ made its way to her ears and she let out an exhausted groan.
Throwing her head back theatrically caused Robin to struggle with the newly found balance. The poor, laughing girl would most definitely fall back if it weren’t for your arms quickly wrapping around her waist.
“You good?” You checked with her while your hands remained on her sides.
“Ooof, that was a close one,” Robin chuckled. “I’m good, thanks.” She nodded.
There was no need for you to keep holding onto her, but you just couldn’t let go. You didn’t want to, and she didn’t pull away. It was the closest you had ever been to her and the sweet musky scent that was surrounding her the entire night felt even more intoxicating now.
“You said you can be anyone… Who are you then?” She wondered quietly. “Now, late at night, in this parking lot.”
You gulped, cautiously thinking through your answer. “Someone who doesn’t really want this night to end,” you let out. Offering her a weak smile that grew a little when she matched it with her own. “Someone who’s kind of fucking exhausted by pretending that you are not the most radiant person I know.”
This was the boldest, and also possibly the stupidest, thing you could’ve said. But you decided to be someone who hoped for the better outcome, at least this once.
The silence that laid between you then caused your confidence in that decision to waver quite a bit. She said nothing. She just watched you, which was somehow both the best and most tormenting thing to happen to you.
You just fucked it all up. Well, the new better outcome you could hope for now was that she would keep quiet about it and won’t make it a scene to entertain the whole town, you guessed.
Suddenly, she leaned in and kissed you. The momentum of the action was too strong and wild to the point of making you fall back down onto the ground.
It happened way too quickly. Both the kiss and the fall.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m so sorry,” Robin blurted out, quickly trying to get herself from the top of you. “Are you okay?!” she asked with concern woven in her voice.
The only reply she got was your laugh and when you raised yourself up on your forearms, you could see her roll her eyes a bit. She offered you a hand before pulling you into a completely seated position.
“You know, I really wanted to be someone who’s not afraid to kiss girls, but apparently I should be,” she huffed. “Are you sure that you are okay? Do you need me to get someone?”
“I’m good,” you promised with a smile, and stretched your hand out far enough to stroke her face. “You’d be surprised how many times I got my ass scraped and bruised from falling down. I can survive one more. I can barely feel it, anyway.”
Your words did not seem to convince her much and so you got up, ready to give her a proof since words did not seem to be enough.
This action did not bring her any relief, though. Not when the first thing she saw was the little of blood seeping through your clothes. “You’re full of shit. There’s no way you are not feeling that one,” she argued while bringing herself up to her feet as well.
You pulled up the skirt a bit, checking the scraped and slightly bleeding skin on your ass cheek in the shitty light. “I’ve had worse,” you said honestly, but she was already reaching for your hand.
For someone who looked like a baby deer just a couple of hours ago, she set out towards where her backpack was laying in the grass quite confidently and the join hands made sure that you were to follow.
“It’s really not that bad,” you insisted when she let go of your hand and sat down to get to her stuff.
You meant it when you said that you didn’t want for this night to end, and if she was going to change into her shoes and set out home just because of this, you would be honestly quite heart broken.
The things she pulled out luckily weren’t her shoes, but rather a water bottle and some bandages. “I came here confident that I’m going to mutilate myself, so I came prepared.”
“Good thing you have so little confidence in yourself,” you teased while she took off her gloves and washed the dirt away from her hands with some of the water.
“Come here.” She motioned for you to come closer and then prompted you to lift your skirt up a bit. To her own surprise, she managed to play down the way she choked a bit at the sight of you with your skirt pulled up and your curves exposed under the moonlight quite successfully.
Carefully, she cleaned as much dirt as she could out of the cuts before covering it with the bandages she had prepared. Her expression focused throughout the whole time. She made sure that the bandage would stick to your skin well by pressing on the edges, her hands then slowly sliding off and stroking over the skin of your thigh as well.
It felt so silky under her touch, softer than she had ever imagined, and for a moment Robin couldn’t believe that this was not just a silly dream of hers. Surely, she was going to wake up every second, just like she had so many times before.
When you focused hard enough, you could feel her breath on your skin, which only took away air from your own lungs. Her fingers were gentle and caring when she traced your skin. You had just allowed yourself to close your eyes for a second when she leaned in and just barely pecked you on the area where your ass met your thigh.
“My mom always used to do that when I hurt myself. A little kiss to make the pain away,” she explained. It was a good thing that you were in the dark because this way, neither of you could see the other one blushing when she looked up to your face again.
“Dunno if it works after the age of six, but why not give it a try, right?” she continued playfully before the cheerful expression fell. “I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t. It’s fine, promise,” you assured her and got down onto the grass beside her. “I really like who we are, here, late at night, in this parking lot,” you hummed while leaning closer to her.
She met you half-way, too eager and impatient to wait any longer. You’d both waited more than enough. This time around, you finally got to cherish the way her lips feel against yours. How plump and soft they were.
They chased you desperately when you tried to pull away for just a little a moment later. You cupped her cheeks and stroked your thumb over it softly as you kissed her upper lip, gently nudging her nose with yours while she pulled you closer.
In this moment, the time and everything around you felt as if it stopped. It very easily could have. Neither of you would have cared, anyway. Giggles burst from your throats as you lay down on the grass, curious but shy hands stroking over the other while you familiarised yourself with the other’s taste.
Everything felt so new, but after a while, it was hard to imagine that there had ever been a time when things had not been this way.
The time felt as if it stopped, but the truth was that it didn’t.
Your legs were tangled, shirts all crumpled up while your lips were swollen and your chests felt like they could burst from the joy you were feeling.
The sun was coming up and you both liked the people that you were.
#robin buckley fanfic#robin buckley fic#robin x reader#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things x reader
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Drabble prompt you say? I got three?
1. Eddie being so protective and doting for a pregnant Steve (fem Steve, mpreg, or omega Steve it's your pick)
2. Eddie sneaking cute notes into Steve's locker
3. Steddie with ftm Steve and cis Eddie being big brothers/father figures to mtf Max
❤️🖤❤️🖤🦇🐼
Okay I know me and I know there is no actual way I could do the last one in 500 words or less so I may have to put a pin in that for another day. I'm putting the other two under the cut because this post will be longer with 2 ❤️
1. Eddie being so protective and doting for a pregnant Steve (fem Steve, mpreg, or omega Steve it's your pick)
"My ankles are swollen. This is the ugliest I've ever been. I'm hungry but the second I look at food, I want to puke, which was supposed to be done in the first trimester. And my hair is so frizzy even though I haven't done anything different!"
Steve was whining. He knew he was whining and he knew it was annoying, but he couldn't stop.
This was the worst pregnancy ever.
Their first two babies were great, almost picture perfect, even.
This one was going to be their last at the rate Steve was suffering.
"I know, sweetheart. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Yeah, you can cut your dick off. I no longer need it."
It would be funny if Steve wasn't completely serious.
"Anything that won't kill me, maybe?" Eddie hesitated to ask.
Steve's moods had been all over the place. It's how he first figured out he was pregnant way before the morning sickness even kicked in.
"Foot rub." Then Steve sat up. "No, actually, don't touch my feet. I want strawberries and peanut butter and celery."
Eddie stood up to head to the kitchen, hoping like hell that they actually had all of those items in the kitchen.
"Wait. Scratch the celery. I can already taste how terrible it is. Maybe some carrot juice?"
Eddie nodded.
This was how it had been for almost a month. The doctor said it's actually normal, that he'd just been the lucky the first two times, but Eddie knew Steve didn't like being like this.
He searched the kitchen quickly, startling when Steve called his name from the couch.
"Yes, my love?"
"No on the peanut butter. It sounds greasy."
"Greasy?" Eddie whispered to himself. "Okay! Coming!" He said louder.
He scrambled to get everything together quickly, but paused when he saw the picture they'd hung on the fridge of the two of them, Jamie, and Melody at the doctor's visit that told them they were having a boy.
All this was annoying, but he knew Steve felt worse, and he knew it would be worth it very soon.
---------------------------------------------
2. Eddie sneaking cute notes into Steve's locker
Steve was never going to know it was him, he was so careful.
He'd been getting away with it for two years, always rushing to put the notes in his locker during classes that he knew Steve couldn't leave.
Wish you could hear the song I wrote for you. It's loud, you'd probably hate it. But I think you'd like that someone sees you. - E
It was his riskiest one yet, never having put an initial or something that could give him away like the fact that he'd written a song about him.
Steve would probably start narrowing it down pretty quickly, though he'd probably not assume it's a guy, at least.
Hopefully.
Third period was the best time to slip notes into his locker; He had Ms. Sanderson, who was known for never letting kids leave class, even for the bathroom.
Eddie ran to his locker, shoved the note inside, and turned to see Steve standing at the end of the row.
"You know, last year, Tommy was convinced it was Nancy fucking with me," he said, arms crossed across his chest as he leaned against the lockers. "And this year, I just kind of figured it was someone who was just shy. Maybe had a crush on who I was and didn't know how to stop once I wasn't that person anymore."
Eddie remained silent.
Steve started walking closer.
"But then, a good friend suggested that I may just have an unconventional secret admirer. Someone who would be scared to come forward for other reasons."
Steve stopped right in front of Eddie.
"And now I think I get it. But you know what?"
"What?" Eddie breathed out.
"There was no reason to be worried. I'm kind of into unconventional."
Steve's lips were on Eddie's before he could process the word.
He pulled away after a couple seconds, frantically looking around the halls to make sure no one saw.
"It's okay, I checked first. You alright?" Steve's concern was a lot.
"Bathroom. I wanna kiss you for real. Not out here."
Steve blushed and tugged on his hand to get him to follow him, both of them giggling as they made their way down the hall to the bathroom.
They spent the rest of the period there, and some of the next one.
And long after they both graduated, long after they survived things they shouldn't have, their initials were still carved on the back of the stall door in a heart.
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considerate prompts: “here, take my jacket.” for Heis and Sonja?
@vodkafolie You got it 😭 thanks for still loving my kids though I need to wrap up their story someday!
"You should've just stayed home," Karl sighed bitterly, contrasting with the concern that was ever present in his eyes while he and Sonja continued their walk on the outskirts of Codrina.
"I haven't seen you in weeks," Sonja coughed into her right arm. Her voice became muffled against the material of her sweater. "It's not like you get away from the village often these days."
"True," Karl muttered. He hated to admit Sonja was right. Mother Miranda had the borders locked with an iron fist ever since a government agent came snooping around, making it impossible even for lords to come and go without vetting. "You could've sent word to the Duke and I could've come at a later time when you aren't puking your guts out."
Sonja made a face at him. "Heis, I have a cold. Not the flu. There's a difference."
Karl sighed again and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't like seeing you feeling like shit though, sweet pea."
Sonja smiled widely when she heard her nickname. A warm feeling spread throughout her chest. She had missed this. How Karl was both blunt and attentive.
"You worry too much about me," Sonja sniffled and stopped, watching Karl pause soon after. "I'm almost beginning to think you care."
Karl raised both his brows at Sonja and scoffed playfully. "If I didn't give a fuck about you, I wouldn't be here now would I?"
"I guess," Sonja shrugged while feigning hurt. "But it would be nice to hear 'I care about you Sonja' every once in a while instead of a caveman grunt of acknowledgement."
Karl rolled his eyes. "Fine. I care about you, Sonja. You happy now?"
"A little bit." Sonja laughed. It wasn't long before she began coughing again.
Karl's eyes roamed over Sonja's form while she was having a fit, making note of how she shook. It didn't help that Codrina was cold right now from the heavy rains that passed through. Even with her sweater, Sonja was freezing.
Furrowing his brows, Karl took off his long coat and presented it to her when the coughs subsided. "Here, take my jacket."
"Are you sure?"
"I insist," Karl said as a matter of fact, grinning for a moment before he put back on a glare after Sonja took the coat into her possession. He gestured for her to be quick. "Put it on before I change my mind. It's colder than my sisters toilet seat out here."
Sonja snorted, covering her mouth to suppress her laugh. She let out a light gasp when Karl gently grabbed a hold of her wrist and moved her hand away from her mouth.
"Heis, what are you doing?" Sonja asked softly.
"I like your laugh." Karl mused. His thumb gently glided over her skin. "Don't hide it. At least not from me."
Sonja and Karl's gazes locked for a time, until the tension in the air became too thick. Karl was the first to avert his gaze, letting Sonja's arm go. It wasn't long after that she put on Karl's coat, a content sigh pushed its way through Sonja when she felt the warmth from the jacket flood over her. Karl was always warm like a furnace. She couldn't help but think of the factory. Though that had been a dark time in her life, Sonja did miss it some. His presence most of all.
"Smells like you." Sonja murmured.
Karl smirked. "I'll have you know, I did shower recently."
"I'm not saying it's bad," Sonja chuckled. "I'm saying I like it."
"C'mere." Karl didn't wait for Sonja to answer. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to his body. He pressed his lips to her forehead, tasting the sweat that had been coming off her skin. Thanks to the Cadou, Karl could detect how long Sonja had been battling this cold. He sighed sadly, not wanting her to endure anymore.
"I should take you home. You're not gonna last much longer out here. Can taste how sick you are."
Karl froze when he felt Sonja's arms wrap around him in return. The nuzzle from her as she lay her head against his chest made him stifle a laugh. No one had ever done that before to him. It was strange, but he more or less enjoyed it.
"Just a little longer," Sonja pleaded. "I don't want you to go yet."
Karl swallowed. He felt the Cadou in his chest gently tighten around his heart, attempting to get the organ to calm itself. He smiled so big it began to hurt, realizing there isn't anything he wouldn't do for her. As soon as it came, Karl's smile faltered at the epiphany. This was dangerous. For both her and him.
He should've shoved her away. This relationship shouldn't have carried on for as long as it had. It was going to end terribly for the both of them. Karl could see it. Could see the misery that would come, like an oracle foretelling the future and what it held in store. Yet he ignored the warnings, and indulged in the most basic of human needs he had: to be cared for and dare say loved.
"I'm not going anywhere, sweet pea." Karl murmured against Sonja's head. He closed his eyes, wishing he had the strength to detach himself but how could he when this felt good, when this felt real?
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#drabbles#karl heisenberg#resident evil village#resident evil fandom#resident evil#resident evil 8#karl heisenberg x oc#sonja ainsley#karl x sonja#the sacrifice#fanfic#i need to finish up this story#one of these days#when i dont have a billion other things#re heisenberg
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when i thought i would die, puking my guts up, wondering what i did to make god so angry, i thought of my son. of what my death would do to him. and of the fact that i would never see him again. wouldnt get to watch him grow and become a man. wouldnt get to watch him become a person. no more birthdays and random trips to the store. no more stupid arguments and laughing and crying together. all of that could have been gone in such a short amount of time. ripped away and robbed from me.
but the nightmare i had of him dying was worse than any reality i have ever lived. i carried him to the car on fumbling feet with shaking hands. yelling at mom to get in the car and drive to the hospital. i held him in my arms trying to get him to come to. pushing his hair behind his ear and telling him it was gonna be okay. and he was breathing and i was worried but he was breathing. and then he wasnt. his whole life ripped away from me in just moments. his soul leaving his body and i felt it all. i felt his life leave his body and i knew it was over and i was just hoping to god i was wrong. but i knew. and the agony i felt in that moment was unmatched to anything ive ever felt before. my heart was ripped from my body while it was still beating for him. and now that im awake all i can do is pray i never experience that again. it would ruin me. i cant even express with words the pain that i felt. knowing he was gone.
i have survived a lot in my life time. i have been raped in the most brutal of ways. i have been beaten and tortured. and i have had nightmares reliving it all. over and over and over again. there is not a day where i dont feel that pain. i have been manipulated into thinking that a man killing me out of love was even a possibility. i have been morphed into a being willing to please that man no matter what it takes. i have been groomed by that man and that has changed me forever. and it has left me broken in an insurmountable amount of ways. and i will never be whole again. no matter how hard i try. and i know that. i have tried to kill myself in being done with being alive. i have been in and out of the hospital in fear of death. i have been in the hospital, puking and praying to god to just fucking end it right there so it would all just stop. yes, there have been many times in my life where i have wished for death. but nothing makes me want to die more than the thought of living long enough to see that boy die. there is no greater pain in this world than losing a child. and that dream felt so real and i will never forget his fever and the way he convulsed in my arms. and i will never forget his sweaty forehead and pale skin. i will never forget the way his eyes rolled back in his head and foam seeped from his mouth. i will never forget my lying, shaking voice telling him it was going to be okay. i will never forget feeling his body go limp and watching his chest cease to rise once again. praying to watch him inhale again.
i have lived through many of my own deaths in reality and in dreams. there are parts of me that have died throughout my life that will never come back. and i relive those moments almost nightly. but nothing has killed me more than watching my reason for living die in my arms, right before my eyes. and i dont think anything ever will.
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He cheats and gets someone else pregnant
Haikyuu Boys Drabbles
The one where you finally realize your worth and don’t forgive a cheater
SUNA RINTARO
It was inevitable, he supposed. You weren’t a dumb person- you’d figure it out soon enough. You’d pick up on the signs- notice how much he’s been going out lately and staring at his phone. Laughing at things you hadn’t sent him, becoming distant, slowly but surely.
Suna knew you’d find out.
He just wasn’t expecting it to be soon.
He had come home one evening and took a shower like normal. While he washed up, he made the terrible mistake of leaving his phone in the kitchen, thinking that there was no way she’d text him. Their relationship was dwindling, after all. Suna was beginning to let the guilt get to him.
After 3 long months, he finally realized what he had wanted. He wanted you, forever and always. He wanted to marry you and spend the rest of his days traveling and experiencing new things with you.
Unfortunately though, he figured it out too late. A boys mistake, thinking that the grass was greener on the other side. And he’d soon pay the price for that wishful thinking.
While you were cooking dinner, you couldn’t help but notice how often his phone was going off. It kept dinging every few seconds, quickly causing you to become irritated.
Suna’s phone never went off that much, and so you thought surely it must be the boys. They probably added him into a group chat, you figured.
Oh how wrong you were.
The minute you walked over to the device and picked it up, you could truly feel your heart break. Searing pain burst through you like a rocket, a gasp leaving your lips as you scrolled through the messages.
8:53 PM
Unknown: Suna? Do you think we could talk?
Unknown: I know you said that you were going back to Y/N, but I...I’m pregnant. And it’s yours
Undeniably, you were shocked and confused. Pregnant? Who was this that was texting his phone? And why the hell did she think she was pregnant by your boyfriend?
A sickening feeling began to bubble in your stomach. Putting the phone down, you clenched your fists and took deep breaths.
In and out, Y/N. In and out.
Surely there was an explanation for this, right? You’d ask Suna as soon as he got done showering, and he’d laugh and tell you how this was all a misunderstanding. Some prank by Atsumu, wanting to get him back in his own cruel way.
But...
One look at his face, though, and you knew everything.
“Tell me you didn’t,” Your bottom lip trembled as you stared at Suna, his eyes widened as he looked at the phone in your trembling hands. Once again, it pinged, but you didn’t even have the energy to look. The only thing you were focused on was your heavy breathing, and the fact that you were becoming light-headed as Suna stepped forward.
“Y/N, baby, I can explain.”
As soon as those words left this lips, your entire world shattered. Letting out a sob, you dropped the phone and used your hands to cover your mouth in horror.
“So you did.”
Suna became panicked as soon as you started crying, holding onto the kitchen table to keep yourself from falling over. The pain that you felt was indescribable, not to mention the absolute betrayal. You had given everything up for Suna- and he repayed you like this?
“Y/N/N, please,” Suna was begging as he moved closer, trying to embrace your crying figure in his arms but you pushed him away, sudden anger taking over you.
“Don’t touch me!” Suna flinched as your damn near threw him off, backing up so far from him. The look in your eyes nearly killed him as you made eye contract, “I don’t want your filthy hands on me now that I know where they’ve been!”
“Y/N...-”
“Shut the fuck up Suna!”
You could no longer control yourself as rage began taking over your body, slowly but surely replacing the tears. The more you processed it - the more you looked at that bastards face and realized that he had went and knocked someone up while you were at home, cooking his dinner - the more infuriated you became.
“I cannot fucking believe you. Like are you serious right now?! I spend all day, all fucking day waiting for you Suna. I cook your food, I run you baths, I do everything I can to make your life less stressful and then you go and do this shit?”
“Baby just listen me, it’s not like that, okay?Whatever you saw- it’s in the past! Me and her- it meant nothing. I realize that now. It’s me and you baby- just us. That’s all I want,” Suna felt tears trailing down his cheeks as he desperately pleaded his case. Desperately grabbing at you, trying to hold you as if that would make everything okay. As if a simple “I’m sorry,” could fix what he broke.
Instead, you found yourself laughing bitterly and fought the urge to smack him in the face. No, you decided you’d have more dignity than that. You’d pack your stuff, peacefully, and leave this asshole here to rot.
“Whatever.”
That was quickly decided in your mind and within seconds, you were shaking your head, scoffing as you pushed passed him and practically ran to your shared bedroom.
“Wait-! Y/N, what are you doing? No, no, no, no!” Suna panicked even more when he followed you and saw that you were hurriedly packing your stuff in a suitcase. It was messy, and you barely had half of your shit but you decided that it’d do. At least until right now. At least until...well, you didn’t really know anymore.
You and Suna, you guys were supposed to be each other’s forever. You were supposed to be endgame, but as it turned out, Suna ruined that before you could even get a ring.
You scoffed again at the prospect of ever marrying him. Now, you began to think about why you even wanted him in the first place. How did you not notice the signs? The lack of effort for weeks until Suna suddenly warmed up again and began treating you like you were his world.
How did you not catch on? How did it completely slip your mind that you were dating a cheater, until the facts suddenly smacked you right in the face?
“What does it look like I’m doing, Rintaro,” You rolled your eyes, zipping the suitcase and then booking it to the bathroom. You quickly grabbed your body wash, all your hair products and then your toothbrush. You lazily threw them in a another bag and then stood up, glaring at Suna who tried to block you from exiting the door.
“Move,” You stared him down, venom lacing your words. “I don’t fucking have time for this.”
“Baby, please,” You flinched as he reached out to touch you, to stroke your cheek with the same hands that had touched her. They were slightly wet, presumably from wiping his tears away, but all you could think about was that you weren’t the only one he had been coming home to. You weren’t the only one he had been fucking and touching.
The thought made you absolutely sick. You were sure that if you didn’t get out now, then you’d puke all over your- his expensive furniture.
“You have to listen to me,” Suna silently cried, his body shaking as he stood there, begging for the one person he needed in his life to stay. “I told you- she means nothing. I don’t want anything to do with her, I only want you, Y/N.”
“And the baby?” Dammit. You couldn’t help yourself. Once again, your anger began to fade as tears gathered in your eyes.
Suna had a child. He had a fucking child with some stranger he’d known less than six months. She was carrying his blood, something that was supposed to be your moment. You were supposed to give him his first child. You were supposed to be the one he shared that part of life with, not her.
“I- what?”
From the looks of it, you’d almost think that Suna didn’t know. His eyes were wide, his whole body stopping as he stared at you incredulously.
And then it hit you.
He didn’t know.
He didn’t even know that she was carrying his baby. He was completely clueless. Both of you were blindsided.
At this, you couldn’t help it. You did laugh, a bitter sound that sounded almost like you were mocking him.
“Wow Rintaro. How fucking stupid could you get?” You let out a watery chuckle, shaking your head as a tear ran down your face. “If you’re gonna cheat and fuck someone else, then at least be smart enough to wear a condom.”
“But I...that’s impossible,” Suna whispered, mostly to himself. “I don’t...I mean she can’t possibly...how did you...?”
“She was blowing up your phone while you were in the shower. How did you think I found out?” You gave him a fake smile. “For someone that doesn’t like putting in a lot of effort, you sure did put a lot into making sure you fucked this relationship up. And then your own life too.”
You hated to say it, but you silently enjoyed the way Suna was going to suffer. At the very least, it was absolutely what he deserved for cheating in the first place. Now, his life was probably going to be ruined. His career, his dreams, everything he had planned...
It was gonna go down the drain.
And you for one were grateful he wasn’t dragging you down with him.
“I...” Suna was at an absolute loss for his words. His whole body slumped, seemingly going numb as he just stayed in the doorway, looking shocked. It gave you the perfect opportunity to push past him, a small smirk on your face despite the searing pain in your heart.
You knew it was serious when he didn’t even try to stop you when you opened the front door.
“I left your phone on kitchen floor. Maybe you should call her. I’m sure you’d like to know more, seeing as it is yours. For your sake, I hope it’s a bouncing baby boy. That’s what you always wanted, right?”
You spoke one last time, making sure to rub salt in the wound before taking a final glance at the man you loved.
He looked broken, a sheer sobbing mess as he still stood in your bedroom door. A part of you couldn’t help but feel bad. You couldn’t help but want to go over and embrace him, dropping everything and tell him that things were gonna work out.
That was the part of you that still loved him.
But the other part...
The other part of you told you that it’s what he deserved. He cheated, and now he has to live with the consequences. Loosing you, and becoming a father at the age of 20.
That was the part of you that gave you the extra push. That was the part of you that gave you the strength to close the door, forever walking away from the man that broke you and the empty house that held all of your dead dreams.
——————————— ☁️ ——————————
BOKUTO KOUTARO
You didn’t believe it. Or more like, you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t wanna shatter your fantasy world, one that you had been living in for four years.
You didn’t want it to break, because if it did...
You didn’t know what you were going to do.
For the last four years Bokuto had been your world. Your absolute rock, your sunshine on a cloudy day. He made you laugh, he made you feel welcome and special like nobody else had before.
Surely...your Bokuto wasn’t capable of this. Surely didn’t...he couldn’t have...
You didn’t even wanna think about it. Bile rose up in your throat every time you thought about it...his lips on hers. Caressing her and holding her the way he was supposed to only hold you.
You didn’t wanna think about it, but yet-
You had no choice as you stared at the pregnant woman before you.
“I’m sorry,” She had tears in her eyes as she sat on your couch, sobbing while simultaneously holding her belly. While holding his baby.
She had come to you only a few hours before, taking you by complete surprise. Never in your life did you ever think you’d come face to face with your boyfriend’s baby momma.
But that’s exactly what had happened.
Apparently, she and Bokuto had both had a one stand a few months ago. It was when he had traveled to Tokyo for a game and you stayed behind because you had school.
It was the one weekend you weren’t there to support him. One weekend...and you had lost him forever.
“It’s not...it’s not your fault,” You told her somewhat awkwardly, although you didn’t really mean it. She had slept with your boyfriend, after all. And now she was pregnant, claiming the baby was 100% his.
That wasn’t even the worst part though.
The worst part was that you couldn’t even be mad at her, because she didn’t know. It was a one night thing. She had told you Bokuto had left in tears the next morning, rambling on about how she meant nothing and that he had you to come home to.
She claimed that he regretted it the minute he realized what happened. Crying out about how he was going to propose and then rushing out without so much as a goodbye.
Oh how stupid he was to name drop you.
You almost wished he hadn’t, because that was how she had found you. After finding out that she was pregnant, she tried to reach out to Bokuto only to realize that he was telling the truth. He’d been with you for four years.
But did that really even mean anything anymore?
“It’s just- I just-” The girl shook her head. “I just want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. If I had known...if I had any other choice...”
“Actually, I’m sort of glad you reached out to me. Thank you for that. That was good on your part, seeing as I doubt he would have told me,” You smiled numbly, not capable of feeling anything at the moment.
It was like...your entire body was on shut down mode. It had become numb, desperately trying to block out the pain you were sure that was coming. And you, for one, were absolutely grateful. You didn’t wanna think... you didn’t even wanna fathom how broken you were gonna be.
So you didn’t. Instead you kept your thoughts quiet and relished in the numbness.
“You know...” You laughed bitterly, sadly shaking your head as you sighed, “Bokuto’s always wanted a kid. He kept begging me a few weeks ago to have one, but I said no. We’re both so young, you know? We had our whole lives together.”
You hadn’t meant to make her cry even more, but that’s exactly what your words did. They cut a knife through this random girl’s heart, causing her pain that she had stolen that from you. Bokuto, he had taken that from you as well.
“I’m sorry,” Once again, she apologized, but you weren’t much focused on that. Instead, your attention snapped towards the front door as you heard keys jingling outside. With a sharp push, your stomach dropped.
Bokuto was home.
“Hey hey hey! Babe whose car is that-”
Bokuto’s smile suddenly dropped as he walked into the scene, your dull eyes and the girl’s tearful ones ones trained on him. Immediately, his whole demeanor began to crumble down and he nervously looked between the two of you, his shoulders dropping.
“...outside. What’s this?”
“Bokuto, I believe you know her,” You were eerily calm as you pointed towards her, showing no emotion as Bokuto’s eyes flickered to her stomach. “This is Kayla. From Tokyo, right? I think you guys have much to discuss.”
Bokuto was at a loss for words as you rose from the couch, gesturing for him to take your seat. But instead of listening, he decided to make things difficult and run after you like a lost puppy as you made your way to the bedroom.
“Babe, babe wait! Y/N, please baby I can explain. I can explain, I can explain, I swear! Just let me, just please let me-”
“Bokuto,” You stopped him, holding up your hand and shaking your head. “I’m not in the mood, really. Just go talk with her alright? She came all this way to find me, so it’s rude not to.”
“But baby-”
“Go,” You suddenly became firm, gritting your teeth as you stared him. For a second, you took a small pause, and then Bokuto heard the words he never wished to hear his in life. “And don’t you ever call me that ever again, Koutaro.”
“K-Koutaro...?” Bokuto stuttered slightly, reeling back at the use of his first name. “But baby...y-you never call me that. Ever.”
“Oh yeah?” You couldn’t help but laugh on how clueless he was. I mean honestly, you never thought that Bokuto was stupid but now...“Well what the hell else am I supposed to call you? Read the fucking room Bokuto. Your pregnant fucking mistress is sitting on my couch, crying her eyes out and you’re worried about me calling you by your first fucking name? Get a god damn grip.”
For the first time that day, emotion began peaking out from your eyes. Pure anger bubbled up inside of your body, finally manifesting after holding it in for so long.
It felt good, in your opinion, to finally feel something. A delayed reaction, sure, but late was better than never.
“B-But-”
“Shut up,” You rolled your eyes at his trembling form. “I don’t wanna hear anything else from you. So go talk to her. Figure your shit out while I pack mine.”
“No!” Panic was evident in his voice as he suddenly grabbed your arms, preventing you from entering your bedroom. Shocked, you siteuggled in his embrace but Bokuto was extremely strong.
“What the hell? Let me go!”
“Y-Y/N! Baby y-you can’t leave me! You can’t! What about our plans? What about forever and always, you and me?”
“Did you think about that before you got drunk and fucked her?” You snapped harshly, causing him to whimper. “Exactly. So don’t come pulling that bullshit out on me, Bokuto. You’re the one that ruined that.”
“But-” At this point, he was searching for something, anything to make you stay as you shoved him off and then stormed in your shared room. “But baby I- we had this whole plan...I was gonna propose! Please, I...I even got the ring! Here I’ll prove it to you!”
While you were busy running around the room throwing all your stuff together, Bokuto suddenly dashed to the kitchen and retrieved a box he had been storing for a special occasion. He completely ignored the girl that was sitting on his couch, not even sparing her a second glance as he rushed back to you and dropped to his knees.
“See?” He hurriedly opened the box and desperately grabbed your hand, slipping the shiny diamond on before you could even protest. “I had it made for you, Y/N! Pure diamond, princess cut. It’s even engraved with your name baby! Please...”
You had to admit, you wanted to break down as Bokuto began to cry, looking awfully small as he kneeled by your feet. To make matters worse, he kept kissing your hand and mumbling tearful apologizes that yanked at your heartstrings.
By now, your initial exterior had began to crumble. Pain began to surround your heart, squeezing it so bad it almost felt like you were burning. A swell of tears gathered in your eyes, and you almost, almost gave in.
You almost sank to your knees and cried with him, almost pulled him into your arms because you didn’t wanna let go. You loved Bokuto, you truly did, and you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life with him.
He was a good man, that probably made an honest mistake. He was everything you had ever wanted. And you were so tempted...so tempted to give in. Until you realized that you deserved better.
“I’m sorry,” Sniffling slightly, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and shook your head. “But I need to go. I can’t stay here anymore Bokuto...you ruined this. You ruined us, and now you have a woman in there carrying your child. You have the family you’ve always wanted. Don’t ruin that too.”
Hastily, you leaned down to press a bitter kiss on his forehead and then stood back up. Bokuto sobbed as he watched your figure retreat, standing high despite the heartbreak.
It was then that he realized that even though you were letting him go, you’d be just fine. You’d pull yourself together eventually, you were strong like that. You didn’t need him, but god, what about him?
He wasn’t sure if he could survive without you. He could barely even breathe and you hadn’t even walked out yet.
Was this what it was going to feel like from now on? Empty, hollow...meaningless?
“Please.”
One last time, he cried out of you. He begged you to stay.
But you knew you deserved better than that.
“I’m sorry.”
And with that, you left him behind. Forever.
#suna x reader#suna angst#bokuto x reader#bokuto angst#suna rintaro#bokuto koutaro#hq x reader#hq angst#haikyuu angst#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu!!
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Marks of Love | Alex Summers
Summary; the morning after in Alex is peaceful, that is until you leave his room. Then, it’s pretty obvious what the pair of you had been up to.
Warnings; smut, hickeys, swearing, cheesy Alex, mention of virginity loss, swearing, Kurt being an innocent boi
Alex groaned as he forced himself up and out of the bed, he scratched his blonde head, groaning lightly as sun broke through his curtains. “Shit.” He spoke to himself, looking at the time.
He was late. And so were you, considering the fact that you were still in his room, and naked underneath his sheets.
It was against the rules in the X Mansion, for girls and boys to be in one another’s rooms. There was so much freedom in Charles’ open home, everyone was allowed to be their true self.
However, you were all still kids and teenagers. It was something Charles had put in place, but it made Alex feel better, knowing that many others did not abide by it all the time either.
“Last night was amazing.” You stretched your arms out, your voice inclined Alex to look over at you, and clamber back onto his mattress.
“It was.” He spoke, getting pulled back into the amorous serenity, and leaning down to intertwine your lips. “I’m so happy we bit the bullet.” He bit his own lip, his blue eyes gazing into your y/e/c eyes.
“Must have felt good then.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, laughing as he nodded, blushing from the mention of your involvement.
“People say first times are clumsy and messy, but ours... it was perfect.” He smiled, his worry for his lateness to class disappearing.
“Yeah, it certainly was.” He kissed your neck, sucking on the skin and stroking his tongue against it. “Al.”
“I love you.” He mumbled against your flesh, situating himself to lie atop of you, dressed in nothing more than his boxer shorts. As his lips began to move more vigorously, so did his hips, tutting against you with the layering of his duvet between.
“I love you more.” You lulled your head back into the cushion, which smelled just like him, and as he pulled the covers back, leaving you exposed, he removed his boxers, so that he too was dressed in nothing but his own skin.
“You’re so fucking hot.” He mumbled, groaning as there was a harsh knock at the door. “Give me a minute.” As he stood, he pulled on his underwear, wearing just that as he went to the door and opened it just enough so that he could peek outside.
“Dude, why aren’t you in class? We had a test.” Sean reprimanded him, and Havok could only roll his sapphire eyes.
“A test is the last thing that I care about.” And it was currently, he had just gotten laid, but he would not tell his best friend. Sean already figured that Alex and you had already done the deed, from the PDA, it was what a lot of people took from the public interaction.
“Okay.” He shrugged, causing Sean’s gaze to travel down, and he felt a feeling swell in his stomach. Banshee couldn’t hold it for long, he burst out laughing, earning a frown from his friend.
“Nice neck.” The redhead pointed out the dark blotches scattered against Alex’s neck, he no doubted that yours was the same. Alex huffed, his attitude showing well as he clenched his jaw, and rested his arm firmly against the door. “If Scott knew the things that you were doing...”
“I’m not taking a bribe to keep your mouth shut, if my brother’s told, he’s told, simple as.” With that, he shut the door in Sean’s face, rubbing over his own with his palms as he began to return to you.
“Fuck, I studied hours for that test.” You whined, covering your head with a pillow, of which Alex was fast to remove. “I was gonna get all the answers right as well, Jubilee dragged me to the library and we went ham for hours.”
“Talking about going ham for hours.” He wiggled his eyebrows, causing you to snort at his efforts. But nevertheless, you allowed him to continue his intentions, breathing in the smell of sex that had glued to his skin as he leaned over, reaching for one of the drawers of his bedside table, and rifling blindlessly through for a condom.
He plucked it up with his fingers once he had located it, sitting back on his knees as he toyed with the packaging. For the bad boy of the school, your boyfriend sure did know how to be adorable. Instead of wearing his usual smirk, his eyes were squinted, as he tried to open the package.
“Give it here.” You extended your hand, opening the wrapper almost instantly after you had received the foil dressed protection. Alex took it back, holding onto his base as he rolled the condom onto his cock.
The sight of him handling himself had you biting your lip, a hunger growing in your chest. You leant back, waiting for him to clamber over top of you, which he did, as he began to position his tip at your entrance.
“You good?” He asked, placing one of his arms beside your head, enclosing you between him and the luxurious mattress. To answer his question, you jutted your hips towards him, gripping his shoulders, and so, he began to push into you.
Alex remained slow in his pace, stopping for a moment so that you could adjust to his size, only beginning to thrust when he knew that he wouldn’t hurt you.
“Oh my.” It felt better than last time, perhaps it was because you had grown and stretched to accommodate him once before. But nevertheless, as your eyes fluttered closed from the pleasure, Alex quickened his administration, cussing himself because of the pleasure.
The two of you had done things before last night, but it was different going all the way. There was something so sensual about having him inside of you, it was as though it connected your souls, or perhaps it just felt that way because of the hormones.
You moved your legs, lodging them either side of your boyfriend’s hips, pulling him closer and deeper. It reviled a groan from his throat, increasing the pleasure for both him and yourself. “Fuck.” He hissed, feeling himself begin to get close, and so he snuck his hand down and past your abdomen, and rubbed your clit.
“I’m cumming.” You informed him in your state of bliss. He too felt near to bursting, he doubted that he could ever feel better, but he could definitely feel predominantly worse.
“Nice neck.” Peter spoke to you, and it only drew the attention of your friends as well. Jean stifled her laughter as she heard your thoughts on how you could kill that fast running bastard, but Kurt was confused.
“Vhat iz it?” He asked curiously, tilting his head as he tried to study the strange marks. They were nothing like the religious symbols that he had crafted into his skin, there was no definition to the. They looked like bruises, and as Alex and Sean walked over, Banshee advocated himself to answer.
“They’re marks of love.” Alex kicked him, causing him to trip. Scott shook his head at his older brother’s behaviour, not surprised even a little by it.
“Just shut up.” Alex sighed, sitting on the grass beside you, and wrapping his arm around you.
“You also have them.” Kurt realised, looking at Storm for answers. Surely she would know, or at least tell him, no one was being specific enough.
“They’re called hickeys.” She sighed. “And it’s what two people give each other when they really really like each other.”
“And I’m going to guess that is why neither of you were in class this morning.” Scott spoke, his expression half unreadable due to the ruby quartz glasses, however, the image of him pretending to puke was far too visible.
“You are correct.”
“Stay out of my head Jean.” You shook your head at her impulse to do so, it couldn’t be helped, you knew that, but sometimes, you liked some privacy.
“Well... Charles is gonna have a field day giving the pair of you the talk.” Peter said, and it was clear that he had endured that experience far too many times.
#alex summers x reader#alex summers imagine#alex x reader#lucas till#lucas till x reader#x men imagine#alex summers smut#havokxreader#xmenhavok#havok imagine#havok oneshot#x men smut#marvel smut#marvel x reader#marvel x you#lucas till smut#lucas till imagine#lucas till fanfiction#havok smut#alex summers oneshot
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Love Sick
Masterlist
Summary: A story about how Spencer’s worst decision ever somehow ends up being his best.
A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves! This fic is loosely based on a request I got about Spencer faking an illness to keep the reader from going on a date.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Content Warning: swearing
Word Count: 4k
Spencer has done a terrible, awful thing.
He wants to argue that he doesn’t know what came over him, but that would be untrue and he’s already met today’s quota on little white lies. Spencer knows exactly what possessed him to call you up at seven thirty on a Saturday night, and it wasn’t so that the two of you could discuss the weather or the recent upward trend in the stock market. Spencer’s spontaneous (panicked) phone call to you was a brazen attempt to abate the green-eyed monster that had been whispering dreadful things in his ear for the better part of a week.
To put it simply; Spencer is jealous, and he’s dealing with it rather poorly.
So poorly that he’s resorted to sabotage.
As he sits on his couch and worries at a hole in the bottom of his designated lounging sweatshirt, Spencer attempts to justify his actions. His tiny fib won’t hurt anyone . . . except, perhaps, one annoyingly perfect and stupidly handsome veterinarian. But Spencer can live with that. Potentially scorning an animal care specialist isn’t the thing that has his stomach in knots. That, he can live with. Spencer doesn’t even have pets, so there’s no longterm consequences as far as the vet is concerned. The notion of lying to you, on the other hand?
Spencer is positively sick with nerves.
He’s not sure why. Spencer’s gotten rather good at lying to you. Several months of pining for you from across the hallway of your shared apartment complex has turned him into quite the master of deceit, after all. He was a sucker from the moment he opened his door and lay his eyes on you, arms outstretched and wielding a plate of homemade sweets. The cookies were lovely, but the breathtaking smile on your face is what really did him in.
Since that first day, Spencer’s gone out of his way to ensure that he’s on the receiving end of that smile as often as possible. His efforts are never in vain; for reasons unbeknownst to him, you seem to enjoy spending time with him just as much as he did you. This mutual fondness results in most of Spencer’s off days being spent in your company. Spencer was certain that, with time, he would work up the nerve to ask you out on a date. He’s halfway to convincing himself that you might even say yes when your cat makes the unfortunate decision to steal a brownie from your plate and gulp the whole thing down.
Enter, aforementioned veterinarian.
The sound of your door opening from across the hall has Spencer breaking out into a cold sweat. His hand is halfway to his forehead, ready to wipe away the perspiration when he pauses. His body’s anxious reaction might just help him sell his story. Yes, Spencer thinks, this is a good thing. Authenticity, and all that.
Several soft footsteps are muffled by the door that separates him from you, and then his doorknob jiggles as you struggle to fit your key into the lock. A jolt of adrenaline surges through Spencer and in the blink of an eye he’s on his feet and sprinting to his bathroom in the name of authenticity. If he wants to keep up this ridiculous façade, and he really, really does, Spencer is prepared to fake it until he makes it. The alternative is far too mortifying. Failure is not an option.
Spencer cringes when he lifts his eyes to meet his reflection. He’s been told more than once that he’s an absolutely terrible liar, and the wide, guilty eyes that stare back at him confirm this. All it will take is one look at him and you’ll know something’s amiss. Perhaps it isn’t too late for Spencer to come clean. It would be embarrassing, yeah, but no less embarrassing than it would be an hour from now when you call him on his shit. But then again, there is always the possibility that you will get angry with him and leave, and Spencer isn’t willing to risk you walking away from him. Not tonight.
Spencer barely has the time to splash some cold water on his face and dive to the bathroom floor before you’re pushing open the door to his apartment and calling out his name. His brain, the part that isn’t rendered useless in his panicked state, reminds him of just how many germs can be found on the average bathroom floor. It’s enough to make him pause, but only for a moment. He takes a deep breath before slumping over against the toilet.
Showtime.
“M’ in here,” Spencer calls out in his croakiest voice. It comes out exactly as he intended, all rough and pitiful. Maybe he can pull this off, after all.
The soft pitter patter of your bare feet makes his heart rate increase exponentially. Spencer steels himself, recites a reassuring mantra in his head. I can do this; I can do this.
Spencer’s poor, overworked heart gets a much-needed rest when you step into the doorway. In fact, he’s almost certain it stops completely at the sight of you in a tiny red dress. A tiny red dress that leaves very little to the imagination. Spencer can’t even see past his mounting panic to enjoy the way you look. That damn red dress serves as a brutal reminder of why he’s sitting in his bathroom floor, clutching his toilet bowl and damn near drowning in a nervous sweat.
The thing is, Spencer hadn’t intended on sabotaging your date with the vet. He had every intention of staying in, wallowing in his sorrows and waiting up for you. Spencer even said this to Derek, who was kind enough to call him and remind him of how big of a jackass he was. Spencer didn’t need the reminder. He was well aware.
But then Derek said something that made Spencer’s blood run cold.
“And what exactly do you plan to do if she doesn’t come home?”
So, really, it’s Derek’s fault that Spencer promptly ended the call and dialed your number. It’s also Derek’s fault that Spencer is about to give the most convincing performance of his entire fucking life.
“I’m sorry I called you, but I didn’t know what else to do. I just feel so awful.” And he does feel awful, just not in the way you think.
You’re quick to close the distance between the two of you, dropping to your knees and brushing stray pieces of hair away from Spencer’s clammy forehead. His skin sings where your hand grazes it. If he didn’t have a fever before, he will if you don’t stop touching him.
“Don’t ever apologize, Spence. I wish you’d have called me sooner,” you murmur. Warm, concerned eyes drag across Spencer’s bedraggled appearance. “How long have you been feeling sick?”
Spencer gulps. “A few hours, I guess. I ate my leftovers from last night for lunch. Maybe that’s what’s wrong.”Lies, lies, lies!
Your brow furrows. “That’s strange. I ate mine, too, and I feel fine.”
Spencer doesn’t really have an argument for that, so he fakes a pained groan and rests his head against his arm. He closes his eyes and prays the intro to theater class he took in high school will pay off.
You must deem his act convincing enough because you press a soft kiss to the top of his hair and stand. Spencer hears the sound of a cabinet opening, followed by the sound of running water.
The tender touch of your hand on his shoulder has him raising his head and looking up at you, inquisitive. You place a cold washrag to his forehead, and Spencer melts into the touch. It feels heavenly against his hot skin.
“Do you think you could manage to take a shower?” you prompt, earning a feeble nod from Spencer. He doesn’t even have to fake the way he trembles as you run the damp cloth down his neck. “I think I have some broccoli and cheddar soup at my apartment. I’ll go change and grab it while you shower.”
Elation spreads through Spencer, pouring from his heart until it reaches the very tips of his extremities. He can’t believe his scheme hasn’t blown up in his face already.
With the help of your outstretched hand, Spencer rises to his feet and braces himself against the shower door. You make no move to remove your hand from his, and that gives him the courage to ask his next question.
“What about your date?”
You shrug and an easy smile spreads across your face. Spencer feels faint. He blames it on his imaginary illness.
“Don’t worry about that. The only thing I’m concerned with right now is taking care of you.”
Spencer bites down hard on the flesh of his cheek to keep a smug grin at bay. This is a victory he’ll have to celebrate at a later date.
--
Spencer enters his living room, freshly showered and donned in clean pajamas, to the sound of your voice speaking quietly into your cellphone. He halts just before he enters his kitchen, straining to catch a snippet of your conversation. As he leans closer to the sound of your voice, Spencer halfheartedly chastises himself. First, he deceives you, now he’s resorting to eavesdropping. Rock, meet bottom.
He’s just about to wrench himself away and retreat to the couch, when:
“I really am sorry about cancelling, especially on such short notice.” A short stretch of silence follows. “Next Saturday? Oh. Um, yeah, I’ll let you know, okay?”
Spencer is very much like a popped balloon; the earlier feelings of elation leave him in a harsh gust. Next Saturday? He barely managed to derail this Saturday’s date! No way he could get away with it a second time.
In the midst of his inner turmoil, Spencer misses you exchanging goodbyes with the vet before collecting Spencer’s bowl of soup. He’s still standing there, absolutely crestfallen, when you round the corner. You nearly collide with his chest, narrowly avoiding it by skidding to a halt in front of him. Your eyes run up his frame, assessing him, until they rest on his face.
“You scared me, Spence,” you chuckle. You cock your head to the side. Spencer imagines his expression is none dissimilar to that of a disgruntled frog. “You feeling okay? You’re not going to puke again, are you?”
Honestly, he might. The idea of you rescheduling your date with the vet is about as vomit inducing as it gets.
“I’m fine,” Spencer says on an exhale. Funnily, it’s probably the biggest lie he’s told all day. “The shower helped.”
His delivery is flat, but you don’t seem to mind. You smile up at him, relieved, and Spencer’s chest aches.
“I was thinking you and I could watch a movie?” you offer, and Spencer nods his assent. He can’t fathom turning you down. Not when you’re wearing an old sweatshirt you stole from his closet and a pair of fuzzy socks with little hearts on them. The ache intensifies.
“What are we watching?”
You plop down on the couch and look at him expectantly. He follows in suit, settling in beside you.
“I was thinking that you could choose,” you murmur as you place the bowl in his hands. Spencer shoots a teasing smile your way as he raises the spoon to his mouth.
“You mean, you’re actually going to let me pick the movie? I should get sick more often.”
His cheek earns him an exaggerated roll of your eyes.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter. “You always pick the movie.”
He can count on one hand the amount of times he’s gotten to pick the movie.
Spencer is about to launch into an impassioned rebuttal when the feeling of your fingers scratching against his scalp renders him speechless. His eyes dart to your face as you concentrate on scrolling through the TV guide, seemingly unaware of the effect the simple act has on him. Meanwhile, Spencer’s brain is short-circuiting.
You begin to read off a list of potential movies to him, but Spencer barely hears you. He’s practically purring as you twirl his curls around lithe fingers, his eyes threatening to flutter closed as an intense feeling of euphoria washes over him. Maybe it’s because he’s touch starved, or maybe it’s because it’s been so long since someone just looked after him. Whatever it is, Spencer embraces it wholeheartedly.
“-heard it’s pretty good. So, what do you say, Spence?”
Spencer pulls himself back to the present, blinking lazily at you. You’re looking at him, expectant, and Spencer’s eyes flit to the TV. His eyes skim its contents, reading briefly about a movie in which some family moves into a haunted house.
His face breaks out into a grin and he nods, because Spencer’s known you long enough to recognize that watching a horror movie usually results in you pressed tightly to his side and clinging to his hand. He also knows that nine times out of ten, you choose to watch a horror movie over anything else. No wonder he always lets you choose.
And sure enough, not even ten minutes in, Spencer is ditching his bowl of soup and pulling you into his arms. Once you’ve draped a blanket around the two of you settled in, you glance up at him.
“How are you feeling, Spence?”
Spencer responds by saying that he’s suddenly feeling much better.
Spencer Reid - 1, Veterinarian – 0
--
Spencer’s not sure at which point he fell asleep. All he knows is that he certainly does not remember sprawling out across your body, nor does he remember tucking his head into the crook of your neck. But this is how he finds himself when the sun begins to pour in through his windows the next morning, and Spencer can’t bring himself to care about how he came to be there.
Spencer guesstimates that it’s no later than seven in the morning. You’re still fast asleep underneath him, your chest rising and falling rhythmically with every breath. It’s early, and it’s Sunday, and Spencer can’t think of a single reason to wake you. Instead, he snuggles in closer, because he’d be a fool not to enjoy this while it lasts.
Unfortunately, the shrill sound of Spencer’s ringing phone shatters the serenity. He prays that it won’t disturb you, that you’ll remain oblivious and continue to sleep, but that hope is shattered when you begin to shift underneath him. Spencer makes quick work of peeling himself off of you before dashing to his kitchen and snatching his phone off the table.
He’s prepared to verbally assault whoever has the audacity to defile the sanctity of lazy Sunday mornings when a quick peek into the living room finds you still fast asleep on his sofa. He smiles, soft and fond, before pressing the accept button and bringing the phone to his ear.
“Hello?”
“I was beginning to wonder if you were still alive.” Spencer’s smile transforms into a grimace. Apparently, Derek Morgan doesn’t believe in lie-ins. “I was preparing myself for a rescue mission.”
“It’s seven in the morning. I was asleep.”
Derek lets out a low whistle. “Who pissed in your Cheerios, Pretty Boy?”
“You, when you decided that it was acceptable to ring me before eight,” Spencer whisper shouts. He knows that he’s being touchy, to say the least, but who can blame him? Five minutes ago, he was cuddling with the most beautiful girl he’s ever had the privilege to lay eyes on. Now, he’s shooting the breeze with a colleague. Obviously, Spencer would prefer the former to the latter.
“Jesus, kid. I’m going to take a wild guess and say that girl of yours didn’t make it home, after all. You okay?”
The guilty feeling returns and Spencer cringes. “Uh, define ‘okay.’”
Derek curses on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, kid. Try not to beat yourself up about it, okay? There’s plenty of fish in the sea, you’ve just gotta put yourself out there. How’s this; you and me will go out next weekend and bar hop. I’ll teach you some Derek Morgan tricks of the trade. Soon enough, you’ll have forgotten all about her.”
“I don’t know, that might be hard.” Spencer scratches the back of his neck. “She’s asleep on my couch right now.”
A long stretch of silence comes from the other end of the line, and Spencer thinks for a moment that the call dropped. Unfortunately, he isn’t that lucky. A booming laugh erupts from the speaker and makes him jump out of his skin.
“My man!” Derek laughs, incredulous. “I didn’t think you had it in you, I’ll be honest.”
“It’s not what you think-”
“How did you manage that? Did the Good Doctor make a grand romantic gesture? Damn, I really hate that I missed that.”
“No, there were no gestures. And it’s not-”
Derek cuts him off. Again. “How’d she take the news? I’m assuming she took it well, if she stayed the night.”
“I didn’t tell her anything!” Spencer spits out, frustrated. “I… I told her I was sick. She came over to take care of me, and we fell asleep on the couch.”
Spencer’s proclamation is met with another long silence.
“So, you sabotaged the date?”
Spencer winces. “I did not sabotage it. I just… manipulated the situation a little.”
“Oh, you certainly did,” Derek chuckles. “How did you pull that off? I’ve seen you try to lie. That shit is laughable.”
Spencer opens his mouth to defend himself, but the pitter patter of socked feet approaching him from behind has his mouth running dry.
“Yeah, Spencer. How did you pull that off?”
Spencer had been correct in his earlier assumptions. The inevitable moment in which you called him out on his shit has arrived, and it’s every bit as mortifying as he expected. So mortifying that he can practically feel the blood drain from his face. And the thing is that he knows he deserves whatever you’re about to throw his way… it’s just that the thought of you being angry with him kind of makes him want to cry. And that would only add to the mortification.
He turns around slowly, his body rigid, until he’s met with the adorably rumpled vision of you with your arms crossed and your hair sticking up in all directions.
Spencer’s never seen anything quite so mesmerizing, and it hurts because he knows he’s ruined everything. He’ll never get to watch another scary movie with you tucked neatly against his side, or wake up in your arms again. He’ll never get to kiss you.
And the worst of all; Spencer will never get to tell you how he really feels. It’s a crying shame, because he thinks he could have been really good at loving you.
“Hey, Derek, I gotta go.”
Spencer presses the end call button and immerses himself in what has to be the most awkward stand-off of all time. You stand there, arms crossed, head cocked to the side with one hip jutted out. Spencer isn’t sure how you manage to look intimidating and endearing at the same time. He supposes the fuzzy socks are to blame.
Minutes pass, but they feel like hours. Spencer is approximately three seconds away from dropping to his knees and groveling when you finally speak.
“You sabotaged my date.”
Spencer lets out a strangled laugh. Perhaps humor is the way to go? It couldn’t hurt to try. In his opinion, the situation couldn’t possibly get any worse. “I think sabotage is a strong word. I prefer the term obstruct.”
You let loose a laugh of your own, but this one holds no humor. “And I prefer keeping the company of people who don’t lie to me.” Okay, maybe it can get worse.
Spencer visibly deflates. It was a stupid idea. He’s never been a funny guy.
“I am so, so, so incredibly sorry.” Sorry for lying to you, that is. Spencer isn’t in the least bit apologetic for ruining your date. Given the chance, he’d do it again - in a more tactful way, of course. Preferably, in such a way that didn’t involve him laying in his bathroom floor.
Spencer attempts to take a step forward, only to be rooted to the spot when you fix him with a look. He’s not funny but he is smart – smart enough to know better than to push it.
“Why did you do it?”
Spencer was really hoping you wouldn’t ask that.
“I-I…”
Apparently, an eidetic memory doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to confrontations involving pretty girls. One quirk of an immaculately plucked eyebrow and Spencer loses the ability to recall a single word of the English language. It’s tragic, really.
“Spit it out, Spencer.”
“I didn’t want you to go on the date.” It’s like ripping off a band aid, the way the words tumble from his lips. It’s painless at first, but then the sting sets in when he realizes what he’s done.
Your lack of reaction doesn’t help. Your face remains passive, as if he didn’t just offer himself to you on a silver platter. Spencer squirms uncomfortably.
“Why didn’t you want me to go on the date?”
God, this is excruciating. You’re clearly out for blood, and the twinkle in your eye shows just how much you’re enjoying this. Spencer would have never taken you for a sadist.
“Because…” Spencer trails off and allows his eyes to drift closed. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it his way. With his eyes closed, because he can’t bear the thought of looking you in the eye when you reject him. “B-Because I like you. A lot.”
Spencer hasn’t had a lot of practice at being wrong. In fact, he’s spent the majority of his life being right. It seems the universe is making up for that now, because he can’t seem to get a single goddamn thing right today.
You laugh at him. You actually laugh in his face. Mortified doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“You like me.” It isn’t a question.
Spencer keeps his eyes shut tight.
“Y-Yeah.”
You know how they say if you take away one of a person’s senses, all of the others are heightened? Spencer couldn’t disagree more. In the midst of his despair, he’s completely unaware that you’ve crossed the room and are now standing directly in front of him until you speak again.
“Well, that’s rather unfortunate,” you sigh. Spencer inhales a sharp breath when he realizes you’re close enough to touch. Still, he keeps his eyes closed.
“Uh, why is that?”
Spencer nearly jumps out of his skin when your hand reaches up and caresses the side of his jaw.
“Because, Spencer,” you murmur, silky and sweet. “I was hoping you just might love me.”
Spencer’s eyes fly open and he’s greeted by a lazy, contented smile. It’s similar to the one that greeted him when he opened his front door on that very first day, but it’s better somehow. Later reflection will determine that it’s better because it’s the kind of smile reserved just for him. And that’s all he’s ever wanted, really.
“W-What?”
“You heard me.” You tilt your head up and rest your palm on Spencer’s chest. His heartbeat is erratic, thundering hard against his ribcage. He’d surely be embarrassed if he wasn’t about to faint from shock. “Do you love me, Spencer Reid?”
Spencer doesn’t even have to think twice.
“More than anything.”
“Good.” Your thumb brushes across the apple of his cheek, eliciting a full body shudder. “I was beginning to think you would never catch up.”
Spencer must be hallucinating. That, or this is all a dream and any second now his alarm is going to go off. He subtly pinches himself on the thigh to test the theory. You can imagine his surprise when nothing changes. He doesn’t wake up in a pile of his own drool, and now the skin on his thigh stings.
“You . . . You like me, too?”
You shake your head. “No, Spencer. I love you, too. Why do you think I bake you cookies and spend all of my free time in your apartment?”
“Because my couch is better than yours?” Spencer deadpans.
“I mean, that certainly doesn’t hurt. But it’s not the only reason.”
“What about the vet?” It must be his guilty conscious talking, because Spencer cannot conjure up any other reason he has for asking such a moronic question. He, personally, could not care less about the vet. Full offense intended.
“Cameron is a nice guy, sure,” you trail off. Spencer doesn’t miss the way your eyes drift down to his lips before returning to his eyes. “But he’s not really my type.”
“And what is your type, exactly?” A giddy grin finds its way to Spencer’s face. He’s notorious for being chronically clueless, but even the master of imperception himself can see where this is going.
You snort, and it’s adorable. “Liars, apparently.”
It’s impossible to determine who moves first, but that doesn’t really matter. What does matter is the end result of Spencer’s lips colliding with yours. It’s earth-shatteringly lovely; slow and sweet and tentative. There’s no rushing, no frantic fumbling of hands. Just the reverent drag of your lips against his, warm and intoxicating.
Spencer eventually regains the use of his limbs and when he does, he’s snaking one arm around your waist as the other entangles itself in your wonderfully unruly hair.
You sigh a happy sigh against his lips and Spencer’s heart soars. In a completely unforeseen turn of events, the possibility of more lazy Sunday mornings is now back on the table. Thank God he’s better at lying than he gave himself credit for.
God, and Derek Morgan’s meddling ass.
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#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer x reader#spencer reid fluff
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OH NO BABY!!
Summary: It was Harry who swimmed in freezing ass water but someone else (his lovie) ends up catching a cold, caring boyfriendrry, a mighty bit momrry.
Turquoise chilly waves crashes against the dark coloured stones as Y/N watches her button sized boyfriend; summat all with rosy cheeks and nose, un-tattooed, wearing excessively short knickers (so tiny it shows the curves of his cute bum perfectly), being a cheeky giggly boy while shooting his swimming scenes.
She wheezes a cold puff of breath winding her brown overcoat closer around to keep her warm but it fails to do so and she might get a scolding from Harry for being silly and waiting outside the whole time just to watch him but she doesn't care, she's extremely proud of him and comes by the sets of My Policemen once a time she gets day off her job early.
He paddles towards her like a penguin buried into humongous coats and towels, his brows furrowing together trying to recognize her dainty self waving him quite enthusiastically from far and his face softens at that.
Shaking his head when her teeth clanks together from the gush of stinging cold breeze.
"Lovie'," He wraps his nippy palms around her hands bringing them to his frosty lips to blow warm air, knowing she hates cold and gets real whiny from not being able to bear it yet she stood in it for two hours for him means alot to him because his assistant told him someone was waiting for him but didn't tell it was his actual sweet baby.
"How you're not a frozen chicken yet?" She asks sighing once in the heat of his given trailer and he makes an exhultant purring noise when she cups his face, lulling it left and right playfully, "Are you okay? She queries worriedly looking down at him with batted eyes and he muses a chuckle at her sweetness.
"Baby 'm fine -- feeling hot by the way now you're inside the van." He grins bashfully tugging her closer with his knees pulled around her legs, "You better go back home .. I don't want your cutesy bum to freeze to death." She squeaks surprisingly when he smacks her ass playfully and drags her down by pulling the lapel of her coat to smear his lips against her's fondly -- heart bigger than it's normal size at her sight making his day 100x better.
"I brought you lunch, it's on that shelf." She tells him standing at the stairs of trailer and he waves her blowing a heartious kiss her way, "Call me when y'reach, yeah?"
"Kay, bye!" Her awfully pretty smile covets dimples into his cheeks and he just want to throw himself into the sofa piled with blanket and scream into it like a teenager girl.
Though, she keeps sneezing through whole ride -- eyes teary, nose runny and fingers twitchy not to mention her numb toes making her feel very uncomfy. Her eyes dropping from being too sleepy and lazy.
She's about to catch a cold.
Tiredly she drags her feet upto their flat and doesn't even pet their kitten strawberry on the way to their bedroom and when reaches it flops over blankets snuggling into them -- without even changing into comfy clothes.
Sirens everywhere as she wakes up with a groan holding her forehead to subside the pound in it and it's feeling like blazing alarms are going off in her head making her want to puke.
It's dark outside. She's been napping for hours. She manages to sit on the edge of bed deciding whether she should stand up to go to washroom or not for that all she could see is floating wooden floor.
Weakly she trudges towards the kitchen filling a glass of water and pulls out a thermometer from one of the drawers -- she was too occupied in waiting for it to beep then checking her fever that she didn't hear Harry announcing; he's home.
She gasps quickly shoving it under her bum, "Don't you hide that thermometer from me!" He squalls rushing towards her in two big strides of his daddy long legs and her eyes widen comically.
"I was just checking and I don't have any kind of fever!" She squeals not letting him get hold of the thermometer and he glares down at her sternly, "You're burning up, baby." He hisses, the back of his hand pressed to her forehead.
She stands up and does a twirl for him shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, "See 'm fine —- " Only to pass out but Harry was quick to take her fall in his arms gracefully squinting his eyes down at her.
"Yeah . . . could see how fine you're." She gives in atlast. Knowing he's going in a severe mommy mode.
"Put your arms around me — Or just fall on me, yeah that works too." She nods and let him slip his socks clad feetsie under her soles to walk them to their bedroom, he sits her down and she wails when he opens their wardrobe to get her something comfy.
"Nooo." She bunches up into a ball as he fists her vest top to pull it over her head, "it's freezing -- 'm feeling so cold." He frowns because he's sweating his ass off from the heat.
He sweeps her hair away from her eyes rubbing a hand down her back continuously, "It'd be a sec, pet. Then I'll warm these blankets in the drier 'n make ye' some soup, so you'd be all cosy 'n snuggly … hmm?" She's very unconvincing when sick. Wants him and just him by her side.
She wipes her nose with her sleeve and sniffs, raising her armpits in air for him and shivers terribly when he undressed her completely, "Oh me poor baby." He leans in to kiss the corner of her lips but she pushes him away grumpy-ly.
"You're g'na get sick too, dummy." He pouts childishly helping her to put her legs in her fuzzy pyjamas, plants tender kisses to her ankles once covering her feet in aloe-fused socksies.
When she stands up on wobbly legs with the support of his folded thigh he almost jumps asking worriedly.
"Where are ye' goin', missy!??"
"To washroom." Her voice barely audible her throat achy and scratchy, "'M comin' with you." He tells her demandingly and she groans knuckling at her eyes.
"No."
"You wanna walk by yourself? Alright, let's see that." He leaves her wrist and she gasps tripping forward from weakness -- catching the nearest furniture before the damage.
"Moppet, stop being so stubborn and lemme take care of you … look at you, an absolute horror –-- never been this frail." He's just so caring it makes her want to cry and have a full on water-works party. He pushes her from waist to himself pecking her sweet smelling hair and takes her to washroom.
After that he tucks her beneath two fluffy blankets and leaves her to make some soup for her and bring her medicine, "Harry!" She yowls pinching the blankets closer around her round small head and feels bad when he rushes inside in a frenzy with an utterly concerned face, serving spoon in his hand and dish rag on his shoulder.
"What happened baby? D'ya wanna throw up? Or are you feelin' freezy, should I blow up heat?" He asks in one breath and she blushes murmuring timidly, glossy eyes still very sleepy and exhausted.
She sneezes loudly, "I just –- achoo!! –- " Another sneeze and she messes her words horribly, " –- you — " Drool on the corner of her mouth.
"You achoo me?" He giggles softly fetching some tissues for her and wipes her nose with them as she struggles to clean it herself.
"'M sorry, please come back." She sighs holding in an another sneeze to avoid wetting him with her yucky stuff.
He strokes her head for a generous moment, "It's almost cooked –- oh fuck is it burning?" He sniffs the air then looks down at her with full on saucer eyes and slaps his forehead when she raises her shoulders, "Maybe?" Thankfully not all of it got ruined and his grin was obnoxious while bringing it inside. Trying to shoo away strawberry who's pawing at the frizzes of his socks.
She smiles up at him with hooded eyes when he hovers the spoon infront of her waiting to feed her as if she's some sort of lil baby and when she tells him it's hot he blows at it and when she still tries to make excuses he stares at her strictly, "Baby." He warns her and she obliges quickly grabbing his wrist delicately to eat and his heart jumps consciously at the fact she's still burning awfully.
"Did you even put salt in it? It tastes like nothing."
"Please stop wasting of what's left of ye voice on complaints about soup you can't even taste." He huffs and she giggles only to drive into fits of loud coughs. He rubs her back gently and puts the tray aside when she feels like throwing up from the effect of coughs and moves the bin where she's bended over the edge of bed and his legs.
"It's okay, hmm just let it out." He caresses her back and holds her hair away from her face -- though nothing comes out since she hasn't eaten anything from morning.
"I hate this." There comes the first sniffle and he instantly cradles her face in his soft hands, "I know dovie' you're feeling very icky right now but it'll be better in the morning, I promise." She shakes her head coughing into her elbow.
"I don't want to eat anymore." Her voice groggy and hoarse, he lifts her gaze up towards him scolding her with a stern frown.
"Hey, now none of that -- you're not allowed to sleep until your belly isn't full." She groans nodding at last and he kisses her shoulder as a little reward. She isn't very bratty. Infact she's Harry's polite girl. Though, When she's he makes sure to tug her back on line but at the moment he understands that how much she's suffering.
How much she needs him to take care of her.
Taking care of her medicines and her cough syrup he turns on the lamp laying back into heap of pillows against the headboard and spreads his knees to bunch her petite weak body against his chest and closes them when she's properly snuggled on top of him, it's one of her favourite positions to sleep in when she's sick --- clinged and cuddled to him.
Like babies on their mommy's chest with their bums sticked out.
He tightens his arms around her hiding his face into the crook of her neck and smooches tiny kisses to her sweet spot, "You're so cute baby makes me heart-ache."
His tranquil heartbeat never fails to lull her to sleep and his hands loving on her sides always makes her feel very warm, "You shouldn't have come to beach -- moppet. Knows your immune against cold is terrible." He whispers cheek squished over her head and she murmures sleepyly —- hands bundled up between her and his front, "Just wanted to make you feel ….. loved." Her words jumblish but full of affection and drool sticks to his sweatshirt when she mumbles against his chest.
//
Harry didn't sleep whole night making sure she's okay, making her sip her cough syrup in betweens and massaging her head but when his eyes barely dropped and the clock hit 4 in the morning whimpers and wails started slipping out of her lips as if she's in very much pain. Which infact she's. Her body shivers vigorously in his arms and even though she's sweating her fever didn't lower down a bit.
He has never seen her in such a bad condition.
He perches on his elbow immediately cupping her hot rosy cheek and gives it few pats crying out worriedly, "Hey baby -- wake up." When she doesn't listen his lungs felt suffocating themselves bile forming in his throat. He throws the blanket away sitting up fully and rests her head in the nook of his elbow.
"Y/N!?" He tries not to panic when she gives him no-response and before his anxiety driven self could duck down to press his ear to her heart her eyelids fluttered barely -- blue chapped lips moving slowly.
"'M okay, bub. Don't worry ….. "
"Bullocks. You're not okay! You can't stop shivering!! Looks almost dead." He growls angry at her and himself for not taking her to clinic soon, "You're so fucking stubborn, pet." He mutters rageously laying her gently down on the mattress and climbs down the bed to bring their coats. Almost stomping his way all around the bedroom to collect stuff.
This time doesn't ask her if she could walk or not and glides his arms underneath her shoulders and knees to haul her firmly against his chest -- blanket still wrapped around her shivering body.
"Shh, shh my baby. You're g'na be okay, 'm so sorry you're in so much pain." He tries to soothe her while walking down stairs of the building.
Turns out she caught pneumonia. They had to stay two hours at the clinic for her drip and some injections for which he had to hold her down from wiggling and squirming her way out.
Made her rest till the fever was gone temporarily then drives them back home when assured that her condition isn't worsening and right now when she's cuddled up into his side with strawberry sleeping on his thighs he nudges her lightly.
"Dovie' I love you so much but that doesn't mean you can scare the shit outta me like that." She just mewls sinking deeper into his side.
"No more set visits fo' you." He tells her seriously and she perks her head up coughing mildly and he raises his forefinger in a demand for her to stay quite, that there's nothing to argue, "You could watch me for once 'n all at the big screen."
"Harry……" She whines tugging the hem of his sweatshirt.
"No, Harry." He pets her head down back on the pillow.
Without saying anything she distance herself from him like a grumpy shrimp and fusses under her breath. He supresses his amused chuckles noting the silliness of this girl and drags her back by her ankle towards him.
"Come back here, you little betrayer." He gasps dramatically and squishes her in his embrace till she gives up and herself nuzzles up into his homely scented neck.
#Harry Styles#harry smut#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles blurbs#harry styles one shots#harry styles imagine#cute harry#harry styles blurb#harry styles smut#fluff#harry angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles fluffy duffy
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Cramps. | N.L. (+ D.T & S.F.)
in which the reader is having a really bad period, so her three best friends come and check up on her.
warnings: pain, periods, bleeding, swearing, we know how it is.
i’m on my period rn, & these three boys are my fav characters so this is mostly to comfort me (and idk if you guys can even relate, but my periods get THIS bad) (edit: this was NOT supposed to be this long but oh well i love these three)
gryffindor reader! (but anyone can read obv)
—
somehow, you had managed to make it through the previous school day. but, the whole time your stomach felt like it was completely turning on you, and with every step you took, the bleeding was so heavy. you couldn’t even remember the last time you went through so many pads and tampons in one day.
on top of that, you were an absolute emotional wreck. and, that became apparent to neville when seamus laughed over tripping over your shoe lace, and you looked up at your three best friends with tears in your eyes.
“merlin, y/n! i was only messing with you! what’s wrong?” seamus furrowed his eyebrows at you, only for you to bend down and groan in pain as you attempted to tie your loose shoe laces.
“i can’t do it!” you whined, a tear finally escaping your tired eyes. you stood up, and sniffled, not noticing the genuine concerned looks plastered across the three boys’s faces.
and then, if things couldn’t get any worse, you felt someone tap your shoulder. you turned around to meet a terrified looking ron and harry, staring down at your legs,
“y-y-y/n... blood! t-t-there’s blood running down your legs!”
you looked down, and sure enough, there was a bunch of it. you automatically began to cry, and the sobbing only got worse as you realized that this was happening in front of not one, not two, but five boys.
“nev—neville... p-please give me your jacket...” you choked out, rushing as the blood seeped between your thighs. he did so quickly, tossing it to you, and your tied it around your waist before running into the nearest bathroom.
“why would you point that out?” dean asked ron, eyeing him,
“what?! would it be better for her to stay like that the rest of the day?” the ginger snapped back, still not putting two and two together. ron wasn’t exactly wrong, but his execution was awful.
the boys sighed, deciding that maybe waiting outside the bathroom would do you some good. but, unfortunately, as 15 minutes passed, you never came out.
“m-m-maybe someone should go and get hermione. or lavendar. or one of the parvati twins?” neville suggested, scratching the back of his neck. seamus shrugged, honestly clueless on how to handle the whole situation.
luckily, a saving grace skipped by, grabbing the attention of all of the boys,
“ginny!” ron called out, and she stopped in her tracks, “thank merlin you’re here!”
the look on her face was questionable as harry, ron, neville, dean, and seamus all stared at her.
“w-what?”
dean spoke up first, more than concerned, “y/n went in there. she—she had—blood running down her legs. and, she started crying...”
that’s all it took for ginny to nod her head, “okay. you guys go ahead. i’ll take care of her!”
they did so reluctantly, more so your three best friends. as ron and harry wanted to be away from the whole scenario as soon as possible.
and, that was the last they heard from you yesterday. today, they waited for you to come down from the girl’s dorm, but you never came.
they waited for you in the great hall, but again, you never came.
little did they know, you were curled up in a ball on your bed, sobbing from the excruciating pain that filled your whole body. this cycle was hitting you like a truck, and you’d wished that somehow you had been more prepared for it.
hermione had left you reluctantly that morning, never seeing a fellow girl having such a bad period before. you had cried all night, and you and her both had barely gotten any sleep. so that’s why when neville saw hermione drifting off to sleep during a shared class, he was absolutely baffled.
as that same class ended, the three boys caught up with hermione,
“hey, granger! where’s y/n?” seamus asked, and she rubbed her eyes.
“she—um—“ a yawn interrupted her response, “she’s in our dorm. she doesn’t feel well.”
neville’s mouth went agape, and he finally put two and two together.
“i wouldn’t go and see her, though. you guys embarrassed her yesterday. she told me all about ronald, and ginny, and seamus. she’s really upset, and... she’s just in a lot of pain. so, just let her be for a while.”
and with that, she left the three boys. they gave each other weird looks, mentally questioning each other.
you on the other hand at this time, were crying as you changed out your bed sheets for the second time that day. it wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable experience to have to explain to a house elf why you needed a bunch of new clean sheets.
dinner soon came, and even then, the boys expected to see you sitting with them, eating and laughing. but, you still hadn’t left that dorm.
so, neville packed some extra food, and the three made a journey to gryffindor tower, just to see if they could break the rules to make sure you weren’t dying. (of course, all three of them were convinced that you were on your death bed.)
they slipped past the prefect, climbing up the stairs to your dorm.
dean was just about to knock when they all heard your voice,
“stop, hermione! please! i don’t care that i missed my classes! i’ve been puking all day, bled on my bed, almost shit my pants four times, so, i really don’t care about snape and what he said about me! piss off!”
seamus’s lips curled, and the sound he let out could only be described as pure disgust. but, neville nudged him,
“she can’t help it. don’t be like that...” he whispered, still not sure if you were alright with visitors at the moment.
“well, i’m sorry! but, dean, neville, and seamus are all worried about you! they—“
that’s when they heard a blood curdling scream, and it sounded exactly like you. it made them jump,
“I WANT TO KILL MYSELF! FUCK!”
“don’t say that! it’s only for a few days, y/n! i told you i would help you with anything you needed!”
“then you can start by fucking off! go away!”
the boys looked at each other,
“maybe—“
“yeah—“
“later.”
they all mutually agreed, and ran down the stairs before hermione had the chance to see them.
they settled in the common room, deciding to do their homework until they knew it was a safe call to go and see you. they all worried about you tremendously, as they had never heard you talk to a fellow friend like that. you simple weren’t that type of person in their eyes. you had always been patient with people, so it was a wonder to them how you loved them so much.
they spotted ginny, walking up to the girl’s dormitories with a glass of ice cream in hand. they naturally assumed it was for you. and truth be told, when ginny entered with a sweet smile on her face, holding the cold treat, you realized you had never been more happy to see a weasley before.
as pathetic as it sounded, you cried to ginny while eating the chocolate ice cream. you sobbed to her about all the events of that day, and the day before. your crush on neville and how you believed he didn’t feel the same, the way that seamus chewed too loudly, and how hermione was too uptight sometimes. she simply listened, knowing that’s all she could really do.
finally, the three boys saw ginny coming down the the glass now empty, and they ran up to her,
“is she okay?”
“what’s happening?”
“can we go and see her?”
she chuckled and shook her head them, “she’s fine, you guys. calm down. i’m not so sure if she’ll want to see you guys, but you guys can sure try.”
they all three looked at each other, slightly terrified.
but, they sucked it up and made their way up again. of course, seamus couldn’t hold back from making a snide comment,
“i swear, if i get a book thrown at my head and end up in the hospital wing with a concussion, i’m blanking it on neville.”
“why me?!” neville scoffed, throwing his hands up in the air,
“because! you fancy her and are the most worried about her! she’s just on her period! is it really that big of a deal?”
before neville could answer, dean cut in, “yes, seamus. it is a big deal. maybe not to us, but to her it is. try bleeding out of your dick for a week while your inside are ripping apart!”
if you would’ve been present, you definitely wouldn’t hugged dean for that one.
they finally arrived, and they argued for a moment over who would be the once to knock on the door. it felt like they were stepping into a death trap. finally, neville agreed to do it.
he did so gently,
“what?” you asked, “who is it?”
dean and seamus eyed each other, definitely panicking.
“erm—it’s... us...”
you groaned, and looked down at your state. you were only in your bra and underwear, trash bucket in your lap, nausea getting the best of you... again.
but, you figured seeing your three best friends would bring you some comfort. this wasn’t their fault, and you didn’t want to take it out on them anymore.
“um... you can come in, but warning! i’m—“
before you could warn them, the door flew open,
“naked...” you breathed out, looking down at the trash can.
they all went wide eyed, and neville covered dean and seamus’s eyes with his hands, and closed his own.
“close the door, you gits!”
neville did so with his foot, still covering everyone’s eyes. you let out a small chuckle at the fact, and shook your head.
“you guys can look, you know. you act like we haven’t been best friends since first year.”
“b-b-but you’re—naked!” dean responded, through neville still keeping his own hand over the boy’s face.
you pursed your lips as you felt vomit climbing it’s way up your throat, “who—“
that’s when they heard it. the violent sound of puking. neville thanked merlin that his eyes were closed, because he probably would’ve puked too.
“who cares?” you breathed out, wiping the slobber from your chin. that’s when seamus took neville’s hand away from his eyes, and realized how you looked.
you looked unrecognizable almost. you looked exhausted, pale, and like you had just been hit by twenty cars at one time. your eyes were all puffy and red from crying, and your hair was definitely not put together like it usually was. makeup was smeared all down your face, makeup from the day before that you simply didn’t have the motivation to get up and wash off. but, seamus couldn’t help but notice your bra and underwear.
“you—“ he chuckled, “you have teddy bears on your undergarments, y/n?”
you clenched your jaw, and tightened your grasp around the trash can, narrowing your eyes at him. his eyes widened,
“kidding! i was only kidding! they suit you well!”
finally, dean shoved neville’s hand off as well, and neville opened his eyes back up reluctantly. neville and dean took in your state, much less of a laughing matter to them, as they were more of the calm friends.
“merlin, y/n... are you alright?” neville asked, approaching you slowly. you shook your head,
“i’m dying...”
the three boys gasped, and you looked at them funny, “i’m kidding... but i feel like i might...”
that settled their nerves a bit, the theory of you dying slowly fading away. you spit in the trash can, and set it back down on the floor. of course, seamus being the curious cat he is, looked in the trash can.
“don’t look at my vomit, finnigan! don’t you have any manners?”
he jumped back, and nodded his head.
“what are you guys doing here, anyway?” you asked, laying down fully on the bed, stomach and legs exposed.
“well—we know—you—you sorta—“
neville sighed at dean’s awkwardness about the whole situation, “we know you’re on your period. and, we know that you’re in a lot of pain. and, we just wanted to come and check up on you.” he glanced at the other two boys, “right?”
“yeah, definitely!”
“totally!”
you giggled at seamus and dean, “oh, what gentlemen. how could i ever thank you?”
seamus couldn’t hold it in. the comment just slipped from his lips,
“well, seeing you in your bra and underwear is thanks enough in my book!” he joked, nudging dean.
surprisingly, the only one who laughed beside seamus... was you. this surprised the boys, as you were sure that would earn seamus that book to his temple, or at least a smack to the face. but, it didn’t.
“see? i told you guys she’s fine! she’s laughing like she always does!”
neville seemed to look over at you for reassurance, just to make sure that seamus hadn’t crossed a boundary with one of his crude jokes. it was something that seamus had done quite a few times, without even realizing it, but it was simply because he didn’t know how to put a filter on. you knew at the end of the day that seamus wasn’t trying to disrespect you. plus, it was something you had go get used to, being one of his best friends and all.
at one point, the boys had eased into the floor, getting things for you if you needed it. seamus even asked why exactly girls even got periods, and you explained it to him in full detail.
“so... like—the inside of your uterus is actually tearing? i thought dean was joking about that!”
you shook your head, “unfortunately, it’s not a joke, finnigan. it’s very real...”
“well, is it this bad for all girls?”
“no, actually. some girls only bleed for a couple of days, and it’s very light. they can go without cramps, puking... lucky bitches!”
that’s when the boys fell silent, even seamus himself. until he raised an eyebrow,
“is it bad that i’m kinda curious? you know—to see how it feels to... bleed... down—there...”
dean furrowed his eyebrows, but neville nodded his head in agreement.
“well, boys... i can’t make you bleed out your dick for seven days straight... but, i can punch you guys in the stomach with full force and show you how cramps feel!”
collectively, they all disagreed, which caused you to fall into a fit of laughter.
“but—it can’t be that bad, right? i mean, everyone can get a stomach ache...” dean questioned, but unsure of what he had just said.
“let me put it to you like this, thomas. imagine the weasley twins sneaking a muggle laxative into your morning pumpkin juice...” you started, “but that stomach pain for a whole week.”
dean put his head down, finally understanding. no wonder you had talked about almost shitting your pants.
that’s when the door swung open, revealing a surprised hermione,
“y/n! where are your clothes?! boys are in here! and plus, they’re not even supposed to be in here, anyway!” she snapped, immediately storming over to your closet, and pulling out a random shirt, throwing it at you.
“but, it’s too hot! and, any tightness hurts!”
“i don’t care! i couldn’t imagine sitting around with ronald and harry with my—lady parts hanging out!”
you chuckled at her hidden shaming, quite used to it by now. “oh, whatever, granger! it’s the same difference as a bathing suit! lighten up!”
seamus and dean snickered at the look on her face, and the way she stormed out.
“she’s right, y/n. not about—you know, we don’t care... but, just—seamus will be talking about it for the rest of his natural life if you keep your clothes off any longer.” neville stated, standing up and taking his sweater off. he passed it to you, making sure not to touch you in anyway that would make you uncomfortable.
you smiled at the kind gesture. sure, it was a sweater, and you probably should choose the lighter t-shirt that hermione had snagged out for you. but, it was neville’s sweater, so, how could you refuse?
you slipped it on over your head, and pulled your hair through the hole. it was quite comfortable, and you were just the right amount of warm and cool. so, it worked out in the end. “thank you, longbottom. that was sweet.”
his face turned red at the small grin etched upon your face, but he shook it off and sat back down on the floor.
you all began talking again, not even noticing when seamus had gotten bored and ancy, and started snooping in your drawers. but, his eyes went wide at the sight of something in your drawer. he picked it up, and stared at it for a moment.
“uh... y/n...” he started, voice a bit shaky, “what’s this?”
he held it up, and you, dean, and neville all looked over.
“that’s a tampon, finnigan. i use it when i’m on my period so the blood doesn’t leak out.”
he took a beat of silence as he connected the dots, and his eyes seemed to widen even more,
“and... you have to put this where exactly?”
#harry potter#harry potter imagine#neville longbottom#neville longbottom imagine#neville x reader#neville longbottom smut#dean thomas#dean x reader#dean thomas imagine#dean thomas smut#seamus finnigan#seamus finnigan imagine#seamus x reader#seamus finnigan smut
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Can you make headcanon of demon Bros and side characters reacting 2 first time hearing the term shart ?
Pls🥺💗
For the sake of shart!
(Ft. The demon bros)
Lucifer
What in the name of diavolo is that?! And what is its purpose even so?!
Low-key didn't knew what this "term" meant until you explained.
First off, why you, so innocent cute looking munchkin know such a thing and then, even if you did, why did you need to say it aloud, just to ruin his day?!?
Made a clearly very disgusted face, with his eye-twitching slightly. Why out of all people you. His doll, his mc do him that dirty, why!!!!!!
Not to mention the fact mammon was hanged upside-down for calling him, a shart-er in front of Diavolo cuz why not?🙃
Mammon
Wide-eyes just by hearing the word, he knew the meaning but pretended not to. (Little did he know, you saw through it.)
Boy laughed so hard, he himself sharted.
His face was like beautiful painting filled with colours each one depicted a different emotion. One for disgust, other for embarrassment and another for the pain twisting underneath the surface. (Yes pun intended)
Called each and everyone a wacky-shartist, had lucifer hang him upside-down, Satan almost gouge his eyes out and risked his ear drums to burst due to asmo's screech.
Leviathan
Oh boy. Oh no. How could you?!! Mc, his Henry, the true, innocent and pure mc, his savior. How could you know that?!!
First, confused until he was hit with harsh slap of realization. Then, he proceeded to shush before you could say it again.
No--no more time with mammon, he taught you this shit, didn't that bitch?!! Hmph!
Ok but he laughed his non-existent ass off when mammon fucked shit up, and the said belphi probably shits in his pants while sleeping which clearly belphi didn't want to hear and forced levi to give mammon some company.
Satan
A shart, you say?? I do not know what that is but I belive it would be an interesting book?? Kindly tell me more about it ??? (Really it isn't a book Satan, trust me)
Wide-eyes, almost on the verge of crying, his day has been ruined, his life has been ruined. Why did you have to do this and especially to him, who loved you so dearly?
He was so disgusted, he almost puked, wasn't that enough for you to stop. Cuz please do or else he'll cry.
It got even worse when mammon came to Bully him, he thought he was going to have mental breakdown but to cope with that, he tried gouge mammons eyes out. Fuck you lucifer, mammon, levi and the entire fucking world!!!
Asmodeus
Just by hearing that weird word made him cringe, but how could he refuse his cute innocent sweet darling?!!
Meaningfulness of the word was killing him, he screeched 'ewww' on top of his lungs, so loud, it was deafening.
Kicked you out his room, cuz he gotta puke and doesn't want to any more disgusted than he already is.
Oh and not mention, how he screeched at mammon for calling him such a foul thing. His voice was so ear-piercing even a banshee would be ashamed.
HOW COULD YOU MAMMON?!!!
Beelzebub
"What type of cake is that, Mc??" That type of cake beel, that you wouldn't want to eat, it usually located in unmentionable area of a person and is usually very fresh and smells, oh--well odd." " I don't mind trying it, especially if you make it!"
Beel wants to try it but is then yelled at and gets confused. Asks belphi on whether a shart is edible or not. It is not
You do not know how to explain this to him, he cannot understand that and belphi refuses to let you ruin this baby.
In short, beel never found what a shart was and kept asking people about it, and in the end, lucifer erased his memory of the word. (And threatened to kill you if you did it again)
Belphegor
Bitch laughed his ass off, he knew you weren't that innocent little crappy baby. But deep down inside, he knows how hard he'll cry once you go away.
If beel's a baby, then so is belphi. Bruh he hates you for that, yet cannot survive without your cuddles. So, he bears with nonsense you blabbered about.
And No-one could explain the pure throbbing rage, he contains until he hung levi upside-down and almost set lucifer's hair on fire.
Fuck you lucifer!!!
-----------------------------
yo I'm back!! \(^♡^)/
It was exam times, so I neglected Tumblr but now it is no-more.
Have a good day!!
#obey me barbatos#obey me luke#obey me diavolo#obey me belphie#obey me swd#obey me lucifer#shall we date#obey me smut#obey me leviathan#obey me imagines#obey me shall we date#obey me#obey me angst#obey me funny#obey me headcannons#obey me scenarios#obey me x mc
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Game Over
Based On: “When You Sleep” by Mary Lambert
Summary: Frat!Harry only wants you when he’s drunk, and you’ve finally had enough
Warnings: swearing
Word Count: 1.8K
Here I was for the third time this week pulling up to a frat party in the middle of the night. I didn’t want to be here, but, just like all the other times he had too much to drink, he needed me. Usually it takes a great amount of pushing past drunk underaged college kids to find him at these things. But this time, as soon as I reached the yard of the house, dimly lit by an array of neon party lights, I spotted a mop of curly brown hair, hunched over a bush.
“Yo! Harry dude! I thought we agreed no more puking in our bushes?!” Some frat guy was yelling at him from the porch. Harry’s only response was to flip the guy off and grin while using the bush to hold him up. “Finally! Your baby sitter’s here” The guy half-joked noticing my arrival.
Harry turned around to face me a little too fast, and he stumbled forward nearly falling. I tried my best to support him but there was no chance. I by no means would consider myself “small” or “petite”, but compared to Harry’s 6-foot, broad shouldered stature, he was too large.
“Hey! What’re ya doing hur?” Harry drunkenly slurred semi-regaining his balance.
“Haz, you called me, remember?” Normally I would’ve been embarrassed calling him anything but his name. But I’ve done this enough times to know, in the morning, he won’t remember any of the words exchanged tonight.
It took nearly an hour to get Harry back to my dorm room. Our new personal best. It’s not that I live far from the frat house, it’s more the process of getting Harry here. The trip usually goes something like, helping Harry stumble to the car, pulling over at every traffic light so Harry can throw up, finally making it to his apartment (which is past my own apartment), Harry begging me to help him to his front door, Harry realizing he “forgot” his keys, Harry asking if he can just crash at my place instead, me driving Harry back to my apartment, helping Harry stumble into my dorm.
It took about the third time of this routine being repeated for me to realize the coincidence of Harry forgetting his keys every time he went out, got shit faced, and called me to come pick him up, wasn’t so much a coincidence. And even though it was the same thing every time, I never skipped the step of driving to his apartment, because I knew it meant he’d have to verbally ask me if he could stay with me. And in some sick way, I got off to hearing his lips form those words. It was something so small, but something that meant so much to me. And he knew that. Drunk or not. I knew what the morning would bring, but for the night, I’d listen to Harry’s slow, peaceful breathing as he slept.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Harry attempting to tip-toe around, collecting his things before I’d wake up. And just like every other morning, I lay perfectly still, letting silent tears hit the pillow, while I listen to the boy I love try to pretend he was never here.
LATER ON CAMPUS
“Hey (Y/N), what did I miss in class today?” I swiveled around in the library chair to face the person who was speaking to me.
Before even facing him, I recognized the voice as a kid from my Biology class, who also happened to be from my hometown. We weren’t necessarily friends, but we engaged in small talk every once in a while. Although I knew who it was before I turned around, I didn’t expect Harry to be standing there with him.
“Oh, uh, not too much.” I focused as hard as I could on my classmate to keep from looking over at Harry. I could feel his eyes burning into me, but I was too embarrassed to look at him. “I can send them to you if you want.”
“Sick! Can you email them to me right now, so I can print them right quick?” I wanted badly to make up some excuse for why I just had to leave and send the notes later, so I could get far far away from Harry. But when I opened my mouth, “Sure” is all that came out.
The guy sat at the computer across from me, and Harry sat down next to him. I fixed my eyes on the computer screen and tried to steady my shaky hands enough to hurriedly send the notes. All the while Harry continued to stare.
As soon as the notes were sent, I logged off the computer and packed up my things. In order to get out of the library I had to pass Harry and the guy, and it was just my luck that the guy had gotten up to go print. As I passed Harry, he grabbed my wrist stopping me. I finally looked into his green eyes, but he didn’t say anything, he just continued to stare like he had already been doing.
“What?” I asked getting uncomfortable with the intensity he was looking at me with. He just shrugged in response.
Once Harry noticed his friend walking back to the computer, he quickly released my wrist, and turned around, as if nothing had ever happened.
Things have been this way with Harry since I met him. Since the day I became his. He knew I had a crush on him, and it gave him some sort of ego trip. Even though he knew I already wanted him, he wanted to make sure it would stay that way. So, whenever he felt like I wasn’t paying him enough attention, or he thought my yearning for him was slipping away, he’d throw me a bone to keep me begging. Initially I made the mistake of thinking this meant that by some chance, he wanted me the same way, but he proved time and time again (through his actions and his words), this wasn’t the case.
And after months of taking whatever treatment Harry would give me. I finally snapped. It happened one night at a party. I was drinking, and I didn’t know he’d be there. I spent the night avoiding him. I was afraid of what drunk me may say or do once I got around him. When he entered a room, suddenly I had somewhere else to be. When he needed another drink from the kitchen, suddenly I wasn’t thirsty anymore. When he wanted to join on the beer pong table, suddenly I was bored of the game. And Harry noticed.
I was on the second floor of the house on my own, exhausted from dodging Harry all night. I leaned my back against the wall of the hall after the stairs reminded me just how buzzed I really was. I guess Harry spotted me heading up stairs because I heard footsteps on the stairs, before he appeared at the top of them. Without saying anything, Harry glanced over his shoulder, before walking and standing directly in front of me. He put an arm up on either side of my head, trapping me between him and the wall.
“I didn’t know you were gonna be here.” he said too casually for our position. “Are you mad at me or something?” This took me by surprise.
“What?”
“You’ve been ignoring me all night.” Again, his tone was way too casual for the things he was saying. But honestly, that’s always how Harry played it.
“You mean living my life? Enjoying the party? Not worshiping the ground you walk on?” Harry’s only response was a smirk. That’s when I started getting angry. “Look I’m too drunk to even be having this conversation with you right now Haz, so can we ju-“
“What’d you just call me?” Harry questioned raising an eyebrow at me. I froze. I was so drunk and emotional that I had accidentally let it slip. But upon processing the look on Harry’s face as something almost resembling distain, my embarrassment turned to pure anger.
“What do you want from me Harry?!” anger was thick in my voice as I pushed him backwards further from me.
“What are you talki-“
“No. Don’t you dare do that! Don’t act like you’re clueless. Like-like you haven’t been playing games with me since we met!” He said nothing. Instead he just stood staring at me. An emotionless expression painted across that beautiful face.
I wanted to stay angry. I wanted the fire burning inside of me to push me to finally walking away from this toxic man. But seeing that there was truly nothing there, the anger fizzled out to simple exhaustion.
“Look, we both know you know how I feel about you. And we both know you don’t feel the same way. But you play with my head. You flirt with me just long enough to wrap me around your finger. And then silence. Just like I never existed. That is until your hold on me starts unraveling again. It’s just some big twisted game for you. It’s like when you can’t have my attention, you suddenly want it.”
“It’s no-“
“I’m not done. For once in the history of whatever the fuck this thing with us is, it’s my turn to talk, and your turn to just listen. And I want you to listen good, because this is the only time I’m ever going to say.” I waited for some sign from Harry to let me know he was really paying attention.
He nodded so I continued.
“I can’t keep being a pawn in your torturous game Harry. It’s not fair to me. You’re breaking me apart and you don’t even care. The thing that hurts the most Harry,” I fought the tears for as long as I could, but the alcohol made it nearly impossible “is the fact that I know I could make you so happy. I would do everything in my power to give you the world. Hell, I basically already do. But you’re so blinded by “not wanting to be with me” that you don’t even realize how good I am for you. How good I am to you. If you stop telling yourself you’re not allowed to love me, I guarantee I’d make you fall. But if that’s not what you want. If you really, truly don’t even want to give me a chance, I’m done. I’ll have to walk away before you finish draining what little of me, I have left. And if that’s what it comes to, I’m begging you, please just let me go. No more games.”
Harry just stood and, like he so often did, stared. Blank. I felt like I was frozen in that moment and all the air had been sucked from the room. Unfortunately, I could feel myself began to sober up as I stood in anticipation of Harry’s response. I wished like hell I was still drunk, because maybe it would’ve hurt less when Harry finally spoke.
“I’m sorry,” he began backing away back towards the stairs. “I’ll leave you alone.” And with that he spun on his heels and trotted back down to the party.
#harry styles#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fic#harry styles one shot#harry styles drabble#harry styles writing#harry styles x reader#harry styles x mc#harry styles smut#harry styles au#college harry styles#college au#fratboy harry styles#fratboy harry#frat!harry#fratboy!harry#frat boy fan fiction#frat boy fic#one direction#imagine harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#harry styles fluff
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Party In The Graveyard (Shiptember 2021 : Drunk)
It’s a day late but heres the Danny x Wes fic I wrote for @ghostgothgeek ‘s Ship Event!!
Rating: Teen and Up
Warnings: Language, Underage Drinking, Mild Suggestive Themes
Additional Tags: Post-Reveal, Aged Up Characters, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Getting Together
Summary: So, here’s the thing; Wes never wanted to have a fucking house party, okay?
This was all stupid Kyle’s stupid idea.
Kyle isn’t even in highschool anymore. He graduated last year. But he invited his whole college freshmen class, and just about everyone from the senior Casper class.
And it's just getting better and better.
Why?
Because about half an hour ago, Danny Fucking Fenton walked in.
--
Or a fic in which Wes sees Danny getting shitfaced and says, "Is anyone else gonna take care of him, or?" and then doesn't wait for an answer.
Words: 6,233
Ao3
“I take back all my poor words.
Talk is cheap, but my mind is rich
When I close my eyes
You grab my wrist,
And pull me in to your cold dead lips”
So, here’s the thing; Wes never wanted to have a fucking house party, okay?
This was all stupid Kyle’s stupid idea.
Kyle isn’t even in highschool anymore. He graduated last year. But he invited his whole college freshmen class, and just about everyone from the senior Casper class.
And it's just getting better and better.
Why?
Because about half an hour ago, Danny Fucking Fenton walked in.
He walked in like he owned the goddamn place and the reaction went through everyone like a Whoop—like some kind of synchronized celebration of a miracle.
What, just ‘cause everyone knows he’s Phantom now?
Give him a fuckin’ break.
Currently, Wes is standing adjacent to the fridge, nursing a god-awful drink Kyle shoved into his hands before disappearing back into the throng.
Lighten up, bro, he’d said.
Yeah.
Sure.
The music pounds through the house—a heart beat—a fucking jack-hammer.
People talk and yell and spill their drinks on just about every surface that can stain.
A cheer goes up from the dining room and he rolls his eyes.
He slams his drink and focuses on the outdated calendar on the side of the fridge to keep from shuddering. It makes his mouth water, burns the whole way down and Jesus, seriously, what the fuck did Kyle put in this?
He throws his cup at the overflowing trash can.
His cheeks feel warm, but not even a buzz touches the wound up feeling in his chest.
He passes through the dining room, stops to watch Danny and Dash shotgunning sixteen ounce Mike’s Harder cans. From the looks of the table, they've already gone a few rounds.
Danny finishes five whole seconds before Dash. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and crushes his can.
“Slowing down already, Baxter?” he says, a smug grin plastered across his face. His shoulders are slumped and he talks just a bit too loud.
Dash finishes his and tosses it over his shoulder, which—cool. Fucking nice, what, does he think they have a fucking maid?
“In your dreams, Fenton. We're just getting warmed up. No way I'm getting out-drank by a twig like you, half-ghost or not.”
“Guess we’ll see.” Danny shrugs. He talks like he’s one of those people, has always been one of those people.
Wes rolls his eyes and is just about to slip out of the room when—
“Ohhh shit! If it isn’t the one and only Wesley Weston!”
Fucking hell.
He turns and levels as unimpressed of a look as he can manage at Danny.
“Imagine that. It’s almost like I fucking live here.”
Danny swipes up a plastic cup and then proceeds to walk through the table towards him. People act like they’re finding out all over again.
“Oh come on, Wes. You’re not still mad are you?” He comes up to him and slouches against the archway’s frame.
Wes scrapes his tongue along his teeth. “Mad? What could I possibly be mad about?”
Danny looks at him like a puzzle.
When he talks his voice is quiet, hard to hear over the music. “I dunno, the fact that you knew all along but no one ever listened? They thought you were crazy and you weren’t but no one's even said sorry?” His lips quirk up at the corner and Wes can smell the artificial black cherry dancing on the top of the alcohol in his breath.
He wrinkles his nose and it has nothing to do with the smell.
“I was being facetious, prick.”
Danny smiles bigger, and his eyes glitter, something doe-eyed.
“Right. So you are still mad?”
He pushes air through his teeth.
“Not like it matters,” he says, looking away from Danny, drifting over the room. “Where’s your chaperones? Weird to see you anywhere alone.”
Danny just stares at him for a few seconds before understanding sparks.
“Ah. Sam’s got a family thing. Tuck took a closing shift.” He waves a hand and his head lolls against the wall with a thunk. He lifts the cup to his lips and takes a swig.
Everything about him looks heavy. It’s weird for Danny.
“Have you tried the jungle juice your brother made?” he says. “It sucks. You’ve gotta try it.”
Wes lifts a brow and crosses his arms over his chest.
“How many’ve you had?”
Danny looks down into his cup, swirls its contents. It’s silent for several seconds too long.
“I’m not really sure, honestly. Didn’t know I was supposed to keep count.”
Wes slides a hand down his face.
Jesus Christ.
“Listen, maybe you should slow down—”
“Yo! Fenton! Stop flirting with Wes and fucking get over here, we’re not done.” Dash calls across the room and—
Flirting?!
They weren’t fucking flirting.
What the fuck.
Wes’s face heats up far beyond the liquor in his veins.
Danny looks up and flashes Dash a thumbs up. And then Danny is even closer—grabbing his arm. The chill of his hand goes right through to his stomach.
“Hey,” he breathes, “come watch me outdrink Dash.”
“Why would I wanna do that?” He ignores the way his breath flutters in his lungs, the way he feels light all the way to his toes.
Danny smiles like what he’s about to say is a secret—like it’s just for him, and all of a sudden Wes wants to be as far from Danny as humanly possible.
“Isn’t watching Dash lose at something for once reason enough?”
Wes forces himself to keep breathing and he swallows.
“Fine,” is all he can force out and then Danny is dragging him towards the table. He ignores all the people looking at them.
The fragmented group of A-listers cheer again and Dash slams a bottle of Fireball onto the table, making people's drinks jump and slosh.
“Let’s kick it up a notch, shall we?” he says, grin just shy of evil.
“Where’d you get that?” Wes asks.
Dash cocks a brow. “Paulina found it? Duh.”
God, Kyle really wasn’t joking about getting people fucked up.
Wes is not going to clean up anyone’s puke this time. This shit is all on Kyle.
“Dude, is it even cold?” Danny asks.
“No, it wasn’t in the freezer long enough,” Paulina says. She’s drinking from a champagne flute for some fucking reason. He didn’t even know they had those.
“Gimme that,” Danny says, swiping it from Dash. “No way in hell I’m drinking warm whiskey.”
His eyes glow blue, and when he breathes out its a thin vapor. Frost creeps over the glass and Wes can’t help but shiver.
“Dude, fucking wicked. I’m still not over this,” Dash breathes, clapping his hands together.
How could Wes forget that Dash is Phantom’s number one fanboy after all?
But Danny isn’t looking at Dash—he’s looking at him.
Only it’s different this time. Because before it was always a taunt, blatantly rubbing it in Wes’ face when he used his powers and no one else noticed.
But the way Danny is looking at him now… like he’s waiting for something, thinking about something.
Danny hands back the Fireball and his eyes slip away from Wes and he feels like a fish wrenched from water.
What the hell was that?
“Fuck yeah, Fenton.” Dash unscrews the whiskey, flicks the cap off the mouth with a finger, sending it flying. He pours directly into their cups, the liquid glugging through the frosted neck of the bottle.
“Two shots of vodka,” someone says and everyone laughs.
“No chasers?” Danny asks, eyeing his cup.
Dash puts down the Fireball. “What’s the matter, you scared of the burn?”
“Not a chance,” he says, and holds out his cup to Dash. They cheers each other and then they’re throwing it back.
It sinks in his stomach like a rock. There’s no way this ends well.
.
It’s on the sixth round of Fireball that Dash starts to look green. He sets down his cup and leans on the table. He stares at the clear storage container of jungle juice and Kwan comes up beside him, pats his arm.
“Dude, maybe you should call it.”
“I’m fine, ‘s fine…” His words slur together. He tries to stand up straight and Kwan and Paulina both have to keep him up right.
Danny laughs. “Not lookin’ great, Baxter,” he says, his own words falling sluggishly from his mouth. Danny goes to lift his cup to his lips again and Wes puts his hand over it.
“Nope. You two are done.”
“Come on, Wes. Don’t be a buzzkill. I’m good!” Danny says. “Dash is the one that lost!” He flings his hand towards Dash and knocks the Fireball over, spilling it all over the table.
The group all crows at once, a choir of “oh shit” “nice one” and “duuuude noooo”’s. A few people rush to grab their phones from harm's way.
Danny blinks at the table. “Oops,” he says.
A smile splits his face and he starts chuckling. It builds from him, a laugh, something outside of him—beyond him.
He laughs until he’s doubled over, holding onto Wes to keep himself stable.
“Yeah, that’s it. You’ve had more than enough.” He grabs Danny’s cup from him before he can spill that too and drinks it himself. The cinnamon burns through his sinuses and he shudders. Ugh.
Danny straightens and sways just a bit, stumbling into him—their faces inches apart.
“Hey, that was mine,” he says, voice twisted in a pout. “Not cool.” His breath is cold, thick with the smell of whiskey.
Wes feels frozen, feels like he can’t breathe.
His heart pounds in his chest and he prays Danny isn’t so close he can feel it.
Around them the choir starts again, a chorus of suggestive “ooo”’s. He can feel their eyes on him and it makes his skin crawl.
Fucking dammit, this is all Fenton’s fault.
He pushes Danny away from him. Not fast or rough, just to arms length. He coughs.
“Star, you should go to the kitchen and get them both some water,” he says.
She gives him an annoyed look.
“I don’t see you doing anything else,” he snaps.
“I’m drunk too, you know,” she says, but gets up and leaves towards the kitchen.
Paulina and Kwan coax Dash into a chair, and he puts his head down on the table, groaning. A few others are sopping up the Fireball with paper towels.
Danny sags in his grip, goofy smile still plastered all over his face.
“I’ve never been drunk before, this is awesome,” he says.
Wes rolls his eyes, and maneuvers Danny into a chair. His head lolls back and he stares at the ceiling for a second before perking back up and trying to go for someone else's cup.
“Dude, I’m serious.” Wes moves the cup out of his reach. “Quit while you’re ahead.”
Danny groans, sinking down in his chair like he’s boneless.
“Come on, Wes,” he says. “You think I don’t know my own limits?”
“You just said this is your first time being drunk.”
Danny blows a raspberry.
Star walks back into the room and hands Wes a glass of water and then slides one across the table at Dash.
“Here. Wanna drink? Drink this.”
“Ugh, fine,” he says.
He’s a few swigs into it when he stops.
“God, it’s hot in here. Is anyone else hot?” And before anyone can answer his eyes glow that bright blue and a chill works through the air, plummets the temperature.
“Danny—” Goosebumps rise over Wes’ skin and his breath fogs from his mouth.
At varying levels of exasperation, the people around cry out.
“Dude, cut that out,” he says, smacking Danny’s arm.
“Ow, why are you hitting me?”
“Because you’re being a pain in the ass.”
Danny looks at him, blinks heavy eyelids. He smiles.
“What.”
“Nothing, you just… You’re cute when you’re all annoyed sometimes.”
The ground feels like it opens up underneath him.
His thoughts screech to a stop. It smells like burnt rubber, like cinnamon and black cherry.
It’s just the alcohol. No fucking way Danny of all people would say that to him.
“You really are drunk,” he says, but his voice sounds off kilter.
Across the house the last song fades out and Usher’s Yeah comes on. People scream and cheer.
“Holy shit, I love this song,” Danny says and stands up. He sways and catches himself on the edge of the table, starts laughing again. “Whew, that was close. The spinning is normal, right?”
Fucking Christ, how did he end up on babysitting duty again? He rubs his temples.
Is he really about to do this?
“You should lay down.” He heaves a sigh. “Come on.”
“Jeez, Wes, that's pretty forward,” Danny says, wiggling his eyebrows.
Heat flashes through him.
“Would you just shut up,” he hisses. “And stop making it cold. Jesus.”
Danny snorts and when he moves from the table he wobbles. Wes grabs him before he topples and slings Danny’s arm over his shoulder to keep him up.
Danny leans into him, almost unbalances them.
“You got a problem with the cold, Wes?” he says, this time his cold breath is against the side of his neck. It sends chills down his spine.
“I don’t have to help you, you know,” he says, voice thick. “You can get alcohol poisoning for all I care.”
“You’re a bad liar, Wes.”
Wes yanks Danny along beside him and out of the dining room.
“Shut up, Danny. You’re drunk.”
He hauls Danny past the living room and the knot of people dancing and singing. A few call out to them, ask them to come have fun. He steers them away before Danny can pull away and join them.
“But I wanna have fun, Wes,” he whines.
“Dude, you can’t even stand without my help right now, you really wanna try dancing?”
“Dance with me, then.”
Wes stops. He looks over at Danny and…
He—
He blinks, shakes his head.
“No, not—not right now,” he mumbles.
“There’s a whole reason I came alone, you know,” Danny says.
“What, so you could get fucked up and no one would stop you?”
“Yeah! I mean… well, that’s part of it.”
Wes guides them towards the stairs, ignoring the looks.
“Your house is bigger than it looks from the outside,” Danny says.
“Thanks?”
“Mmhm.”
God. This is so not what he thought tonight was going to be like.
“Where are we going?” Danny asks.
“Somewhere you can lay down and sober up.”
“Tha’s not vague.”
Wes starts pulling Danny up the staircase. The second floor is dark, and he gropes around to hit the light.
The first few steps are fine, which is to say the next steps aren’t fine.
What he’s saying is that Danny says, “oh shit.”
And then he’s falling—pulling Wes down with him.
More accurately, Danny trips and pulls Wes down on top of him.
They end up in a heap and Danny groans like someone does when they fall on the fucking stairs.
“Ow.” He reaches for the back of his head. Then he’s laughing, like it's the funniest goddamn thing in the world, what just happened. His face screws up, the face of someone who doesn’t know he’s in pain, just pretending.
“Seriously?” Wes snaps. His shin smarts—must have hit it on the stairs.
“Sorry, sorry.” He laughs each syllable. “You good?”
“No, I’m not—” And he looks down and he realizes how close they are. Realizes the way Danny’s hair falls into his face, the light catching the slope of his jaw.
Danny quiets at the same time and it’s like they get stuck there. Like nothing else exists other than this staircase and this moment and the way Danny feels cool and solid like a summer night underneath him.
“Hey,” Danny says—sounds almost breathless. “Come here often?”
Wes rolls his eyes and just like that the moment is over.
“Ugh.” He pushes himself up, detangles himself from Danny.
Danny reaches for him, that stupid smile back on his face.
“Oh come on, Wes,” he says.
“Quit messing around, dude.”
Danny pushes himself up, runs a hand through his hair and Wes tracks the motion with his eyes against his best wishes.
“You’re so mean. I could have a concussion and this is how you treat me?”
Wes stands up and straightens his clothes. “You’re fine.”
Danny gives him a look and then something sparks in his eyes. “I’m going to text Sam and Tucker and tell them how mean you are to me.”
Psh. He says that like they don’t already hate him.
“Would you just get up?”
“These stairs are actually kinda comfy,” he says, head rolling back, sinking back down and closing his eyes. “I think I’ll just stay here.”
Wes kicks his leg.
“You can lay down in the room. Get up.”
Danny heaves a sigh, throws an arm over his eyes.
“Fiiinnneee.” He pulls himself up by the handrail, stops in a sitting position. “Jesus,” he says, voice just above a whisper. His breathing gets weird. It makes Wes pause.
“You okay?”
“...Spinning,” Danny breathes. He’s quiet for a bit, and Wes just lets him sit there. Danny holds his head in his hands for a while.
Worry creeps into the back of his mind. Maybe Danny wasn’t kidding about the concussion thing. Maybe he should get someone—
Then Danny is standing up and Wes steadys his other arm.
“I got you,” he says. “Feeling okay?”
Danny sends him a weak smile. “Yeah. Laying down does sound good though," he mumbles.
They make it up the rest of the stairs, and Danny leans against the wall as Wes opens the door to his room.
It’s dark and quiet inside and he flips on the light.
He helps Danny in, and he flops face first onto his bed. He groans and rolls over.
“I’m thinking those last few shots of Fireball were a bad idea…”
Wes snorts and closes the door softly behind him.
“Oh, just the last few, huh?”
“I was havin’ fun, smartass,” Danny grumbles.
Wes leans back against his dresser and crosses his arms. “I said you should have stopped but noooo, no one listens to Wes.”
It gets quiet and he can feel the heaviness in the air. He clears his throat. “If you throw up in my bed, I’m kicking you out the window.”
“I’m not going to throw up.”
“Famous last words, Fenton.”
“Shaddup,” Danny says, and it gets quiet.
Wes can feel the bass from the music through the floor, the muffled sound of singing, laughing, talking. He’s used to ducking out at parties early. He’s used to laying in bed and listening to the songs through the walls until the voices slowly fade and the house is empty again. He listens to Kyle stumble up to bed and knock into the walls and yell “I’m okay” when he does.
He’s not used to having… company.
Danny sits up like a puppet on too few strings. He makes a frustrated noise.
“It’s still hot,” he sighs.
“It’s the alcohol, dude.”
Danny runs his hands over his face, and then reaches back and starts pulling his hoodie off. It drags his shirt up with it and Wes can’t help but look. He looks at the multitude of scars staining Danny’s skin and the way his muscles move over his ribs and—he pulls his gaze away and studies the floor instead.
“This is your bedroom, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Doesn’t look how I thought it would.”
Wes wrinkles his nose. “How'd you think it would look?”
Danny takes his time looking around the room, hoodie pooled in his lap, before he looks at Wes and gives a boneless shrug.
“I dunno. More,” he holds his hands up, splays his fingers, “raah!”
“I… don’t know what that means.”
“You know! Like… newspaper-clipping red-web on all the walls,” Danny says, smile creeping back.
Wes squints at Danny. He pushes off his dresser.
“That’s still all you think of me?” He picks a pillow from his bed and throws it at Danny’s face. Danny lets out a yelp.
“Besides, I took all that shit down when the truth came out anyway,” he says, trying and failing to keep the inkling of a smile from his voice.
Danny looks at him blankly for a second before he starts to smile again.
“Wait, was that… Did you just make a joke?”
Wes snorts.
“You did! Holy shit, Wes has a sense of humor, this is bigger news than my shit. I gotta tell everyone.”
Danny looks soft, sitting like this in the middle of his bed, eyes warm in a way Wes didn’t realize they could be.
Something in him loosens.
“Good luck getting people to believe you…” he says.
“Oh, how the turn tables,” Danny says, and for a bit all they do is smile at each other.
Danny looks away first, he glances up at the light and squints.
“You got a light that isn’t so fuckin’ bright?”
“I thought the light sensitivity was supposed to happen the morning after drinking.”
“You’re full of jokes tonight.”
Wes rolls his eyes and flips on the bedside lamp and then shuts off the overhead light.
Danny hums and flops back down. “Better,” he says.
It’s silent for a few beats and Danny lifts his head to look at him. He smacks the comforter a few times with a flat hand.
Wes blanches; he’s all too aware of himself, of Danny and the dim light and the closed door.
“Dude, chill,” Danny says, like he can read his mind—wait, he can’t actually do that, right? Ghosts can’t do that?
“Sit down or something. You just standing there watching me is creepy,” Danny says.
Wes swallows his own heartbeat, shakes his head. “Seriously, between the two of us, I’m not the creepy one.”
“Says the stalker.”
“I didn’t stalk you.”
Danny gives him a look, with raised eyebrows and everything.
Wes sits on the side of the bed, scoots back so he’s leaned against the headboard.
“I was… investigating.”
Danny laughs. “Sure, dude. Whatever you say,” and his voice is like smoke—hickory and rough but winding through the air like silk.
They fall into an amiable silence, cotton soft, but cold. Danny has an arm over his eyes again, and his breathing is so slow it’s hard to pick out from the music downstairs.
He rakes a hand through his hair and takes out his phone. He unlocks it and scrolls mindlessly for a while.
He can’t focus.
Not with Danny so close like this. Not when everything is different now. His mind drifts off and he tries to keep track of every breath, wonders if he’s fallen asleep—
“Hey, Wes.”
He jumps. Just a little bit.
“Y-yeah?”
“I’m sorry.”
He puts his phone down.
“...For what?”
“For making everyone think you were crazy.”
Wes twists his hand in his comforter. Why the hell is Danny apologizing to him? After everything he’s done to him… tried to do to him. It gets stuck in his throat.
“It’s… You don’t have to—” he wishes he’d had a few more drinks.
“Nah. I do. Looking back, I didn’t handle you knowing very well.”
He chews on his lip. He’s never felt so out of place.
“Danny…”
Danny moves his arm and looks up at him and his courage almost shrivels.
“I’m the one who should apologize. Not you. I—” He balls his hands into fists. “What I did, trying to basically out you, that wasn’t… that wasn’t okay.”
“You didn’t know the whole situation.”
“Did I need to? It was still fucked up and. I’m sorry. I was so wrapped up in wanting to be right that I didn’t care what it could have done to you.”
It feels like glass coming up from his throat.
He’s lost sleep, engraved in the ceiling all the ways he fucked up, all the times he's glad now that no one listened to him. His eyes feel hot and there’s no way in hell he’s going to fucking get emotional in front of Danny.
“It all worked out in the end,” Danny says. He says it easy, gentle. “You were still technically right, though, so… There’s that.”
Wes huffs. “Yeah. I guess.” He fights through all the mess. “I don’t know how this didn’t happen sooner though. You were terrible at hiding it.”
Danny props himself up on his elbows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude, I'm a great liar.”
Wes leans his head back on the headboard. “Sure, but you’re reckless as hell. How many times did you stick your arm through your locker in front of God and everyone?”
Danny smiles wide and bright.
“Honestly, after a while, it was just fun to see how far I could go before anyone noticed.”
Wes can’t help but chuckle. “Pretty far, obviously.”
“No kidding.”
Wes runs his palms over his jeans.
“You’re good though, right?” Wes looks anywhere but Danny. “At home and all that.”
“Oh. Yeah. It was, uhm, a lot for my parents. But we’re getting there.”
“Good… That’s good.” The words feel sharp and blocky, and he doesn’t know what else to say. What else can he say?
His buzz pulls away from him, pulls him down, makes his lids heavy.
“How do you think Dash is doing?” Danny says.
“Pf. If he isn’t hugging a trashcan right now, I’ll be shocked.”
Danny laughs.
Wes leans over onto some of his pillows.
“How are you this okay after drinking all that?”
Danny shrugs. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m feeling it. My guess is something to do with the healing factor ghost shit.”
“Right, makes sense.”
He feels tired and heavy and the darkness at the corners of the room get fuzzier.
“Paulina brought her own champagne glass,” Danny tells him. And he laughs because, who does that?
He rolls onto his back and they stare at the ceiling.
“Are you kidding? Paulina does that, it’s Paulina,” Danny says.
They stare at the ceiling like it’s not a ceiling, like it might become more than just ceiling. Wes imagines it disappearing completely.
Danny likes stars, doesn’t he?
When Danny talks again it’s like he’s far away. An arms length, an atmosphere’s length… he doesn’t know.
Danny says, “sucks that I’m missing the Super Smash Tournament.”
Wes tries to keep his eyes from slipping shut. The bed pulls him like quicksand, the smell of sleep. “Trust me, dude, Kyle always wins anyway.”
Danny says something, something about who he mains or doesn’t main. It becomes all the same, the sluggish rise and fall.
At some point between light and dark Wes decides that he likes the sound of Danny’s voice. He somehow likes that the room is colder than it usually is.
And maybe somewhere between all that he decides some other stuff too.
—
Wes wakes up before Danny. The sun streams in through a gap in his curtains, pooling on the wall and floor.
He doesn’t have a headache, but his neck hurts like hell.
Danny is lying on his side faced away from him and, fuck, thank God. He thinks about last night, about Danny in his arms and he—
He sits up and rubs his hands over his warm cheeks.
Water. He should get some water.
He slips out of his room and goes downstairs to the kitchen. The house is quiet.
Well.
Mostly.
He can hear the sink running and the clink of glass. When he comes around the corner he sees Kyle washing dishes. The house is only half as trashed as he thought it’d be.
Kyle looks up at him as he walks in.
“Morning.”
He grunts, going to pluck a clean glass from the drying rack.
“Hangover?”
“Nah. Slept wrong.” He fills his glass at the fridge and downs it all at once. The water helps wash the sour taste from his mouth. Ugh, he should still brush his teeth.
He fills the glass again and heads back upstairs. He pushes back into his room and when the door creaks he sees Danny jump.
He walks around the bed and offers the glass to a squinting Danny.
“Awake?” he asks.
Danny groans and pushes himself up. His hair is messy, hanging in his eyes. It's infuriating.
He rubs the side of his face and when he takes the cup their fingers brush.
“Thanks,” he murmurs.
“We have pop-tarts and cereal and shit downstairs.”
Danny gives him a thumbs up while he drinks.
He wants to ask if he’s okay... He decides to leave it for later.
Wes leaves his room and goes back to the kitchen. When he gets there, he pulls the pop-tarts down from the cabinet.
“So, here’s what I’m thinking,” Kyle says, “if you wanna clean the dining room, I’ll clean the living room.”
“Nope, no. This was your thing, dude. You threw the party.”
“But Wes,” he whines, “Dad’s gonna be home tonight.”
“Then you should probably get started,” he says and claps him on the shoulder on his way to the toaster.
“Dude, cold blooded. You’re just gonna watch me slave away for hours and not even help your own brother?”
“Uh... yeah.” He slots the pop-tarts into the toaster. He turns towards Kyle and leans against the counter, grinning at him.
Kyle gives him a look.
“How much.”
“No. No, I’m not gonna be bought this time.”
“Twenty bucks.”
“Kyle.”
“Fine, you drive a hard bargain. Forty.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“‘This time?’ What happened last time?”
They jump and look at Danny as he comes down the stairs. He has his hoodie slung over a shoulder and the half empty water glass in his hand.
“Holy shit,” Kyle says.
“It’s not important,” he says, sending a glare at the back of Kyle’s head.
Danny walks up to the counter and sets the glass down to pull his hoodie on.
“No fucking way,” Kyle says, voice pitched up. “I didn’t believe it when everyone was talking about it last night, holy shit.”
Danny tugs the hem of his hoodie down and gives Kyle a confused look that he moves over to Wes.
He returns the look, just as lost.
“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?”
“You two hooking up last night,” Kyle says, like it’s obvious.
It feels like for a second time stops—
Hooking up?
Hooking up?!
His heart skips in his chest and heat rushes to his face and the tips of his ears. He feels like he’s been slapped across the face.
Danny looks like a deer in the headlights.
“Uh—”
The toaster pops.
“Which, can I just say, I totally called it. I knew there had to be another reason Wes was so obsessed with yo—”
“Kyle!” he snaps, his voice higher than he anticipated. “Kyle, oh my fucking god, shut up. We didn’t— Nothing happened last night, we just—”
His breath feels tight in his throat and he wants to lock himself in his room forever. He can’t make himself look at Danny.
“Who the hell told you that-that we—”
“Uh, dude, a bunch of people saw you guys go into your room together. You know Pualina was telling me that Danny was all over yo—”
“Okay! Thank you, Kyle!” he cuts in. “Jesus fucking—” He buries his face in his hands.
This is it, this is how he’s going to die.
“I’m just glad for you two! I mean, like, jeez, finally!”
“Kyle, I’ll help you clean if you shut up right now and never bring this up ever again.”
Kyle stops, face lighting up. “Dude, deal.”
“Cool. Now please leave.”
“What?”
Wes grabs him by the arm and starts dragging him out of the kitchen. “Leave. Go get the cleaning shit from the garage or some shit, I don’t know.”
“Oh. Ohhhh, I see. I get you. I’ll leave you two kids alone to enjoy your breakfast together,” he says with a wink and holy fuck, he’s going to kill his fucking brother.
Kyle heads for the stairs and calls down, “Lemme know when it’s safe to come back down!”
Wes drags his hands down his face. He lets out a slow breath and he tries to ignore his pounding heart.
Wes goes to the nearest counter and puts his head down. The surface is cold against his burning skin. He groans like an injured animal and at this point he really wishes someone would put him out of his misery.
“Well…” Danny says from behind him.
He hears Danny moving and the sound of the fridge being opened. He looks up, watches as Danny takes orange juice from the fridge. When he turns around he sees his face is red too.
“I mean… hardly the worst rumor to get spread around about us,” he says. That stupid smile makes its way onto Danny’s face.
“I once had this dude tell everyone at school that I was a ghost. It was super weird.”
Wes shakes his head. “Dude, shut up.” But he can’t help the grin that pulls at his lips.
Danny laughs, a quieter thing today than it was last night.
“I can have some, right?” he asks, lifting the OJ.
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
They fall into silence while Danny pours a glass and Wes goes to numbly retrieve his pop-tarts.
“It’s probably spread through all of Casper now, huh.”
Danny glances at him. Something dances through his expression. He hums as he takes a drink of his juice.
“Uh. Probably further than that, now that everyone knows I'm… you know.” Danny shoots him an uneasy look.
Right. Right.
This was just getting better and better.
He takes a bite of his pop-tart. It crumbles in his mouth like sand.
“Are you… okay?” Danny asks. He reaches back and rubs his neck, and dammit, now he’s just adding insult to injury.
He looks at him, and he sees the nerves in the way he holds himself, stitched into the way the light hits him. He’s not asking just one question.
Wes swallows.
“Yeah… Yeah, I mean, like you said. There could be way worse rumors,” he says. He looks at Danny like he’s too far away, like he enjoyed last night way more than he should have. And he sees it in Danny too, some sort of mirror.
“I think so too,” Danny says, heavy the way he exhales it.
They break eye contact and Wes doesn’t really know what to do, what to say.
“Well, uh. You have cleaning to do, I guess. I should probably get home before my parents get too freaked out.”
Wes nods. “Yeah, probably.” He wonders if Danny knows what’s in his voice. The dark from last night is clouding his mind, pulling him, begging him to just say it.
“Yeah… I’ll, uh, see you at school?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool.”
But Danny doesn't move.
He lingers like a shadow. He looks like he wants to go. He looks like he wants to stay.
“Wes,” he says.
Wes looks at him.
He worries at his bottom lip and moves along the counter towards him.
“Thanks. For last night.”
He lets out a puff. “Well, someone had to make sure you didn’t die the rest of the way from alcohol poisoning.”
Danny rolls his eyes.
“I wasn’t that bad.”
“You were pretty bad.”
“Not even.” Danny smiles.
And they’re close again, sharing each other's space.
“It wasn’t… awful, I guess,” he says before he can stop himself. “Even with you being a pain in the ass the entire time.”
“Maybe we could do it again sometime,” Danny murmurs.
“What, me looking after your drunk ass the whole night?”
Danny snorts. “No, I was thinking more like I match you drink for drink instead,” he says.
“At least then you’d last till the Smash tournament.”
Danny glances away.
“I didn’t mind missing it too much, actually.”
Wes’s breath gets stuck and his heart beats like a drum in his ribcage.
“Really?”
“Yeah…”
In some ways it’s just like last night; Danny’s close enough he can feel the movement of his breath between them.
“It’s way more fun, bothering you.”
It’s a slow motion sort of thing, a hair raising thing.
“Well you’re an expert at it by now.”
Wes thinks about theme parks. Sitting at the top of the sky and just before his stomach drops—
“Always room for improvement. I could get better at it if you want me to.”
And what if he does? What if he wants to see Danny in all the ways he can? What if he wants to know Danny for real this time?
Maybe he wants pictures, proof that it’s real.
Maybe it’s always been leading to this.
Maybe it’s fucked up.
Wes having the power to hurt him all over again.
“Drink for drink?” he says, barely a whisper.
“Drink for drink,” Danny says—closer, closer, breath against his lips.
Danny gives him time to pull away. But Wes doesn’t. Something to do with what he decided last night.
“Prove it.”
#Unidentified Flying Ship#danny/wes#Danny Phantom#danny phantom fanfiction#my writing#DP Shiptember 2021#drunk prompt#one-shot#wes weston#wesley weston
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🧘🏻♀️ manifesting (their first) interaction between y/n and stem!koo 🧘🏻♀️ like i can't imagine koo talking to her and not knowing his secret lunchbox deliver is right in front of him !!!
cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D
stem!koo is in agony and it’s getting in the way of his academics
maybe.,.,
just mAYBE you should’ve warmed up a little bit more before this goddamn practice match
it doesn’t help too that you’re still a lil bit hungover from last night because seokjin and yoongi iNSISTED to get everyone drunk
they put a beanie on the corner of the tv and each of you had to drink whenever someone appears at the edge of it :’’’)
also didn’t help the fact that yoongi tried to be helpful
shoved his fingers into your mouth in an attempt to get you to puke (so you would feel better in the morning) but in doing so, HE’S the one who puked
and now you were disgusted and therefore unable to p-word
everyone’s lagging in their game today, and with you being the team captain, of cOURSE you had to boost team morale
by boosting team morale u meant moving excessively and grinding extra hard and jostling them much more so they’d do the same
and it’s working!!!!
it’s working and now you feel like passing out :D
your jersey’s soaked and your socks are damp and you want to nestle in the cooler by yourself
fortunately, your coach fINALLY called for a ten-minute break
rip you’re sprawled out in the bleachers
extra rip why is the sun being blocked rn ://
yeah well you dO wear sunscreen and reapply it every two hours, but you didn’t think that it’d be this effective
almost like you can’t see the sun at all
like your eyes are closed and there’s no heat beating down on them
it’s almost as if someone’s i-in... front.......... of you
this is not white chicks??????
that is most definitely nOT terry crews??????
“m-miss y/n?”
you’re still a little bit groggy and it’s taking your eyes awhile to re-focus, unintentionally having a scowl on in the process
“who’s asking?”
you’re gonna scream if it’s another one of those scouts jeez they can ask for you after practice and not during your break!!
“o-oh! i’m uh, jeon jungkook?? sorry, yeah, i don’t know why i sounded unsure. i am jungkook, your junior...?”
....
WAIT WAIT WHAT
you try not to move up abruptly, putting yourself up on your elbows that makes jungkook intimidatingly take a few steps back and give you your distance
you clearly did not expect this
“how may i... help.... you?”
kook is literally shaking in his boots and he’s not even wearing boots
you’re just giving him a blank glance and not to be rude but USUALLY (!!!) he’s used to the other person making conversation and taking it from there
he’s blanking out for a second and it’s only when you tilt your head at him that he snaps out of it
“right!!! we have this statistics assignment?? a-and we need to interview an athlete for it and i was hoping if i could uhm, if i could interview you?”
weird
out of all the athletes in uni, why would jungkook ever come to you??
not that you’re complaining but you didn’t exactly expect that your first interaction with him would be out of necessity
there’s this tense silence that stretches and jungkook still awkwardly has his hands balled nervously and your still on your elbows
“oh. okay. i have eight minutes left of break before i go back to my game.”
he jolts up at that before he’s meticulously pulling things from his backpack rather ungracefully, “no worries!! i can just wait for you after your game.... i-i think?”
cute
you’d find him cuter if only he hadn’t been giving your lunches that you’ve worked hard on
>:(
“yeah? and when’s that deadline of yours?”
jungkook stills as if you’ve just exposed him, sheepishly bowing his head
“tonight. 11:59 pm.”
huh
even more weird
you thought jungkook was an early bird when it comes to these things because he’d literally march to the desk just a day after a task was given
you ponder in thought, abruptly standing to go to your coach
jungkook fREAKS out on his knees
“i’m so sO sorry to have bothered-...”
coach jeong only nods once with a firm line on his lips, dismissing you because he’s figured that the captain cOULD ask favors from him every once in a while
kook stops his apologies when you look at him again, towel on your shoulders
you look bored with him
“i can squeeze you in.”
:O
alright that’s gonna sink in eventually
pls function
one
two
“o-oh! thank you so much!! i-i won’t take long, i promise.”
jungkook wastes no time in setting everything up even if he seems disorganized
he has his pen and paper ready plus his phone to record you
apparently, it’s all just bASIC questions and lmao they truly were
do you eat breakfast everyday? how often do you work out? how often do you get injured in a game??
“lastly, how do you pack your lunchboxes?”
“well-...“ your eyes narrow at the question, tilting your head in confusion
there is absolutely nO way that is still a part of his questionnaire
not unless he knows it’s you in the flesh?????
jungkook’s eyes widen at the same time yours do and your jaw clenches because oh my fucking god did he figure you out
o_O
jungkook sheepishly shakes his head, going immediately into a sad smile before he waves it off
“sorry. i uh, i’m just going through it right now,” he mumbles under his breath, writing something on his paper, “... but really, how do you do it?”
“jungkook.”
he giggles at the way you deadpan eVEN when you were ready at the moment to worm your way out of it, thrusting his pen and paper to your hands
“write your full name and sign, please. y’know, ‘i, blank blank, consent to jeon jungkook’ the basic?”
???
did this mf just say blank OUT LOUD??? TWICE????
you only try to discreetly laugh under your breath when you do so, handing it back with ease unlike him
“i also need a picture for documentation, i-if that’s alright?”
oh uhm
you’re still soaked in sweat????
jungkook must’ve seen your panic as he aids in, handing you a mask and gesturing for the towel to cover up how cLEARLY drenched you are
(but with your jersey showing!!!!!)
this is clearly a lot to take in
your first interaction aND a picture together???
jungkook keeps profusely bowing his head to you, gathering his items neatly before bidding you goodbye
his eyes do a double-take at the notebook, only wanting to make sure that all the details are complete and he wouldn’t have to trouble you later for clarifications
jeon jungkook
he goes rigidly frozen that it makes you tilt your head once again, a shaky sigh on him that he’d only correct later
“n-nothing! i think i just saw this handwriting before, that’s all.”
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