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stayteezdreams · 9 months

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Three is Fate: Part Two

Plot: After a week of gym sessions with your new friend Changbin, he finally gains the courage to ask you on a date.

-Part One-

Pairing: Seo Changbin x Gn!Reader

Warnings: A brief kiss towards the end, but that's it!

-Meet Cute Series-

A/n: I decided to post his 2nd part today since it's Changbins birthday~

Words: 1.5k

As you made your way to the gym, excitement radiated through you. You never thought anything would make you this excited to go to the gym, but ever since you met Changbin nothing's felt the same.

You had yet to find time to hang out outside of the gym, which you admit was disappointing. But, hanging out with him in the gym had its own merits.

You basically now had a personal trainer you don't have to pay, and had the added bonus of being able to watch him work out.

Walking into the gym, your eyes scanned the room before landing on Changbin. Your eyes moved to his bare arms as he lifted a weight, and you had to shake yourself from your thoughts before you approached.

Changbin spotted you in the mirror and a grin spread across his face. Turning, he met your eyes and waved at you, to which you replied with a bright smile of your own and a wave as you walked up to him.

His heart immedietely began fluttering as he ran through his pep talk again. He was going to ask you on a date this time, he was not going to chicken out again.

"Hey Changbin" You greeted cheerfully as you got up to him.

"Hey" He smiled in return, "You look like you've got a lot of energy today."

You nodded, "I feel like it too."

"Good" he chuckled softly.

"I'm gonna go lock up my stuff " You said with a small smile before you turned away with your duffel.

Changbin watched you walk away before letting out a soft sigh. "Today." He mumbled to himself as he tried to push away his nerves.

You let out a groan as you rose, "I hate planks"

Changbin chuckled as he watched you with a fond smile. He was proud of the progress you had made over the last week, and he was impressed by your self discipline and willingness to push yourself.

"You can do them a lot longer than the first time."

You smiled a bit shyly at this, before you turned to go grab your towel.

As you spun around, you just noticed another person striding past you. Just when you almost collided with them, you felt Changbin grab your arms and pull you back towards him. You spun around, and let out a small gasp as you bumped into his chest as he held you close to him.

You paused for a moment, processing what happened before you slowly looked up. Your eyes locked with Changbin's and you saw surprise fade from his face before he replaced it with a small smirk.

"Can't let you go running into other people. That's our thing."

Your face was blank for a second before a grin spread across it, you both let out soft laughs at his comment.

You felt your ears and neck growing hotter as he gently let you go, before rubbing his hands up and down your arm briefly, as if afraid he might have hurt you.

"I'll be more careful. Don't want you getting jealous." You teased and he giggled softly.

You grabbed your towel and let out a soft breath, your heart hammering in your chest. When you turned back around, rubbing your towel across your neck, you stopped as you saw Changbin staring at you.

"What?"

Changbin seemed to shake his head as he realized he was staring. He cleared his throat "I just remembered something."

"What's that?" You asked curiously as you walked back up to him.

"I keep wanting to ask you something, but, sort of keep chickening out."

"Oh?" You held your breath, as your heart continued to pound.

"Yeah." He rubbed his neck nervously.

"It's okay you can ask me."

Something in your tone told Changbin you knew what he wanted to ask, and the way you looked at him softly, as a soft smile just ghosted your lips gave him the confidence he had been lacking.

"Do you want to go on a date with me?"

Your stomach flipped as a jolt of excitement rushed over you. Your smile grew as you felt your whole body rise in temperature.

You nodded "Yes, I do."

Changbin felt as though a weight had been lifted off of him as he let out a breath. His own smile appeared as he let out a soft chuckle.

"Thank God." He said with a breathy sigh of relief.

You laughed at this and he chuckled at himself, "I really didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

You smiled and shook your head "You couldn't make me uncomfortable Changbin, you do the opposite really."

He looked down bashfully at his feet and you repressed a giggle at how cute he got when he was shy.

His eyes met yours again and he cleared his throat "I really do like you Y/n."

"And I really like you Changbin."

You grinned at each other, no longer aware of your surroundings as you got lost in each other and the excitement of your first date.

Walking out onto the street, your eyes landed on Changbin immedietely as he waited outside of your apartment complex. When he spotted you, a bright smile formed on his face as he waved.

You grinned as you jogged over to the gate, "You weren't waiting long were you?"

He shook his head with a soft smile, "No." He lied.

He wouldn't tell you the truth. He thought it might be too embarrassing to tell you he was so excited and nervous that he ended up showing up almost twenty minutes early just to wait for you.

As you got to his car, he opened up the door for you.

You smiled "Thank you."

"So, what's the plan?" You asked as you climbed into the car.

He didn't reply until he got into the drivers seat, smiling over at you he smirked "It's a surprise."

You hummed as you eyed him as he chuckled softly before driving off. You watched the city pass by as you seemed to leave the busier part of town.

It wasn't long before he parked the car, as you grabbed the door handle he stopped you "Wait!"

You chucked as he got out of the car and ran around to your side to open the door for you.

As he pulled it open you grinned at him "Quite the gentlemen."

He shrugged proudly as he reached out his arm for you to take.

"I thought we'd go on a quick walk before dinner."

You looked up and saw a staircase leading up to a mountain view. You smiled and looked over at him and nodded happily. You were glad you were comfortable shoes.

Now staring out at the city view as the sun began to descend in the sky, you could feel Changbin glancing over at you every few seconds.

You smiled to yourself before you looked over at him, catching his eye "It's beautiful."

He nodded softly his eyes remaining on your face, "Yeah it is."

You felt your face warm up as you looked back out at the city. After a few more moments, Changbin cleared his throat making you look back over at him.

You felt him scoot a bit closer to you as he shyly met your gaze. His hand slid along the railing before gently meeting yours. He brushed his fingers against your own.

"I- don't know if this is too early, or a bit fast, if it is, tell me and I'll back off, but..."

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you swallowed. You noted the way his eye flicked quickly to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" He almost whispered.

A soft smile ghosted your lips as you nodded softly "Yes." Your voice was just as quiet as his, but he heard it clearly.

Slowly, he leaned in and you tilted forward to meet him as your lips gently brushed before you both seemed to pause. His eyes locked onto yours for a second, before you closed your eyes. Changbin leaned in the rest of the way, pressing his lips softly against yours.

The kiss was gentle and only lasted a few moments before he pulled away. Your eyes opened again and met his, as a smile spread across your face. Changbin smiled as he let out a soft breath.

"You might get tired of me saying this, but I really like you."

You giggled softly "I'm not tired of it."

He chuckled "Good." Moving his hand, he gently wrapped it around your own. "Hungry?"

You nodded your head with a smile "Starving."

He grinned as he took your hand as the two of you made your way back down to the car. You shared quick looks and shy smiles, both of your hearts racing happily.

And now when you went to the gym, not only did you have your own attractive personal trainer, who you got to stare at as much as you wanted. He was now your boyfriend too.

xx End xx

Went into this without a plan, but I like how it came out. I hope you did too!

Stray Kids General Taglist: @laylasbunbunny, @skz1-4-3

Series Taglist: @bubblesreplies, @halesandy, @why-am-i-sad, @sourmooonlight, @jaeheekangslover, @seungminsdreamwife, @thesunsfullmoon, @ink-spilled-stars, @jisunglyricist, @marcillfll, @ultimatestayandminoronce, @cheeeseceli, @3rachasninja, @raehawthorne

#Seo Changbin #Changbin #Changbin x reader #changbin/reader #seo changbin/reader #changbin fanfic #changbin imagine #stray kids imagine #stray kids fic #changbin meet-cute #three is fate: part two #changbin fluff #changbin oneshot #changbin x you #stray kids/reader #stray kids x reader

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ironstakes · 7 months

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HermitcraftxNaruto Kakashi-is-Etho oneshot draft. AKA it’s not polished and stuff

Title: I’m Not Myself (I might need some help)

Summary: Kakashi had complicated relationships, specifically with the face that wasn’t his and with blond hair.

To him these things were a tsunami of conflicting feelings that slipped through his mind like sand through his fingers.

Kakashi didn’t like mirrors. His face wasn’t right, it hadn’t ever been right, so he’d been avoiding his reflection for as long as he could remember. It was impossible to hide from himself, he’d discovered early on- water, glass, and metal all taunted him with a face that wasn’t right. So he’d covered it, hidden it away so he wouldn’t have to see it. And if nobody else could see his face? Well, that just worked in his favor.

Kakashi remembers learning the hell viewing technique.

Minato-sensei had suggested it, the low level genjutsu that would help him learn to cast genjutsu with Obito’s eye. Although he was a little nervous, he did his best to be rid of the sentiment. There was no room for nervousness in a ninja’s life. Still, despite his best efforts some apprehension rose within him as Minato-sensei cast the genjutsu.

What would he see, he wondered. Would it his father, tanto buried in his gut right up to the hilt? Would it be Obito, crushed beneath rocks? Rin, with Kakashi’s own hand speared through her heart? Minato-sensei facing his own demise?

Nothing seemed amiss, at first, and Kakashi took a careful hold of the genjutsu, ready to pull it apart at any moment. Minato-sensei was speaking, saying something about studying the technique’s mechanics, but he was throughly distracted by the dark figure hidden in the training ground’s tree line.

He waited until Minato-sensei had to go and then headed towards it.

Later, Kakashi would curse his younger self.

Standing in the shadows of the trunks towering over them stood a person he couldn’t quite see, but Kakashi could tell it was meant to be himself.

It was the first time he really saw the monster within him, the monster that wasn’t worthy of its father’s love, the monster that killed Obito and Rin. The monster had no compassion for the people nor did it care at all for his beloved village. It looked at him and Kakashi felt achingly hollow.

It had never occurred to Kakashi that he’d be afraid of himself, but after seeing the shadow he wondered how he could have ever thought it would’ve been anything else.

He turned and ran and almost forgot to dispel the genjutsu.

It had been a rough mission. It was one of those high energy in and out operations that always pushed you to the limit.

They were anticipating resistance but they were not prepared for an opposing team of ANBU to have been expecting them. This fact was disturbing for several reasons, and looking back Kakashi would question the mission parameters and even the objective. But not now. Now he dragged his dying teammate into the sectioned off emergency portion of the hospital, wondering if they were going to die.

Still on high alert he was still taking in and analyzing everything he could. He heard the hurried footsteps of the medical personnel rushing around in all directions, the machines and the shouting as his unit poured in. The smell of hospital and the blood. The noise, the smells, the bright clinical lights- they were all so much after the mission.

A group of masked medics rushed in and took Squirrel from him. He watched them practically run his teammate out of the entry hall, all except for one. With a resigned mental sigh he followed the medic into one of the small private rooms where all returning ANBU were assessed.

It was quick as always. After rigidly answering the basic questions about injuries, having a quick physical exam, and providing what information he could about his teammates’ wounds they released him.

He didn’t remember navigating his way to his apartment, but once he was inside he checked his traps and then made a beeline for the bathroom.

Firstly, he threw up. It wasn’t that he was unused to the violence or the gore but sometimes it reminded him of things he did mind a great deal about. That, and all the running didn’t help.

After emptying his stomach he hauled himself to his feet and leaned over the sink. A pale drawn face, expression blank and slack like a corpse, stared back at him and he didn’t feel like he was even looking at himself.

Unable to stand his reflection, he turned his back to the mirror. He flushed the toilet and turned the shower on, waiting for the water to become as tepid as it could manage.

While waiting for the water to warm up he tired to scrub the blood off. He gave up, it would never come off, and unintentionally found himself looking back at the mirror. He was surprised that his headband was up around his forehead instead of draped over his sharingan eye as it usually was. Now, if Kakashi was less tired, maybe a little less wired, he would have realized that his sharingan eye was closed. The world was overly bright and there was a keen sharpness to everything, but it wasn’t sharingan sharp.

Maybe if it was he’d have seen the distinct lack of tomatoe in his reflection’s eyes, or maybe he’d have noticed that his reflection’s hair was certainly longer than his. He might’ve discovered that his reflection’s headband bore not the symbol of the leaf village he protected with his life, but something else entirely. He could’ve observed that, while his reflection wore a black long sleeved undershirt that was almost standard uniform, he wasn’t wearing a jonin flack jacket, or even any kind of jacket he’d seen before. He might’ve noticed that his reflection’s hands weren’t bloodstained, but speckled with both red and green.

As it was he merely reached up to tug the headband down. His reflection did not follow.

It took him a moment to process that. By the time he had comprehended what he saw it seemed too ridiculous to have happened. His reflection looked back at him, in uniform and bloodstained, and he decided to sleep in the next day.

After stepping out of the shower he dressed quickly and reached for the door handle, intent on getting to bed. He began to turn the handle and paused. He looked up into the mirror and chuckled hoarsely. He knew he was alone, just him and his own reflection, but he ran rapidly through half the handsigns for a random jutu. His reflection copied flawlessly. Shaking his head, he opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom

Kakashi wasn’t hiding, per se, but he was certainly taking a breather.

He was disheveled, drenched in sweat and blood and tears that weren’t his. Stifling a sigh out of longstanding habit he leaned back, squinting up at the too-bright sky. He lost himself in the endless blue and was struck with a train of thought he later deemed to be born of sleep deprivation and hysteria.

Why couldn’t he fly? He could close his eye and feel the weight on his back, and knew instinctively that he would need to use his shoulders to control his direction and his legs for altitude. There would have to be something in his hands, because they felt too empty when he pictured flying, no, gliding really, and then it was almost as though he were living it. It was freedom. He could feel the warm sun on his back, hear the wind rushing past him, smell the sea and taste the cool, crisp air in his throat. He was going somewhere, to see someone he loved-

He jolted out of the daydream, acutely aware that everyone he loved was dead now, dead and gone. He decided he needed to sleep.

In dreams he would not remember he flew with another man, someone with bright yellow hair. He knew with the certainty of dreams that the man smelled like iron and flowers.

“Hey!” he shouted, turning sharply but gracefully and taking off in a new direction over the ocean. “Last one there is a stack of rotten flesh!”

He was laughing as he sped after his friend, the sun warming his skin and the company warming his heart.

In his apartment he’d torn the mirror off of the wall so he could brush his teeth. The only glass besides the windows was the single piece in the picture frame of his genin team. His kunai were methodically cared for and tucked away in the dark were the light couldn’t glint off of them. He never took his headband off.

And when he was forced to confront himself the mask was always there, his eternal backup.

People whispered and speculated, or at least they did at first and then again every so often, about why. Why did he always wear the mask? Some thought it had to do with enhanced smell, and that was the most widely accepted reason amongst the upper ranks, that’s what was put in his file. His tracking specialties certainly didn’t hurt that particular speculation. The other theories ranged from the bizarre and unlikely to the creative and mundane. There were too many guesses and they were all wrong.

Kakashi just hated his face. He hated it more than the Iwa nin that caused the cave in that took Obito away from him, he it more than himself for killing Rin, he hated it more than the nine tailed fox for destroying his home and killing his sensei and Kushina.

He hated his face, and something inside of him was sure that it couldn’t possibly be his.

Kakashi was lounging in a tree, purposefully slouched and orange book held loosely in his hand. Around the field other jonin ambled and rested as Hayate and Yūgao’s blades clashed in an intense kenjutsu match. The sound of clanging of steel was nothing new to him, but for some reason, he felt as though the swords should have sounded different. He must have zoned out uncharacteristically because the next thing he knew, it was his and Guy’s turn to spar.

“Huh? Were you saying something?” he wondered aloud to cover his lapse in attention, causing Konoha’s self proclaimed green beast to grin and exclaim on his hip attitude. He tried to concentrate, he truly did, but something was tugging at him. He lost.

Kakashi didn’t pay attention to the rest of the matches. In fact, he departed nearly immediately. He sushined directly to his apartment, something squirming in his mind, something that wasn’t the humiliation of defeat. He dug around for a pen and a blank paper, a scroll, anything while his mind was hazy.

The copy-nin came back to himself at three in the morning and blinked down at the carefully filled pages on his counter.

He left them and slept.

Kakashi didn’t look at the pile of papers until nearly a month later. He flipped through the pages carefully when he did, the contents familiar and foreign all at once.

There were swords, long, thick swords that looked all wrong for a ninja to use. They were not like any kind of swords he’d seen before, and there looked to be three distinct hilts he’d drawn over and over.

He straightened the papers and was debating what to do with them. Unsure, he flipped the pile topside down and almost turned away. Instead his eyes caught on the swords painstakingly drawn and detailed on the back.

He sighed and sat down again, prepared to flip through the pages of swords again and wondering what had prompted him to-

There weren’t just swords on the next page.

Lone eye sharpening, he took in the man he’d drawn over and over. Sitting on a hill, maintaining his gear, carrying lumber, practicing with a sword, shining his armor, sitting and surrounded by papers, a pencil in hand...

His eyes were supposed to be clear Kakashi could tell, and he had lightly colored hair, a little past chin length when it wasn’t tied back. He’d sketched the man frowning only once. He was otherwise smiling: a grin with a single dimple, a small, satisfied smirk, a slight upturning in the corner of his mouth as he thought.

Kakashi knew he’d never seen this man before. He’d remember someone like him, if only for the bizarre armor.

The next page was similar only in that swords were somewhat involved; something about the woman with the striped top that he’d doodled told Kakashi that he knew her from somewhere too. She was bisecting an unearthly shadow-like creature with lengthy limbs, she was packing sand into a geometrically patterned box, she was taking aim at a shaped target, she was swimming nearby a one-eyed fish with spikes. Kakashi noticed that she was wearing goggles and his thoughts strayed to both Obito and his sensei’s son, who also had a pair now. Her goggles were more narrow than either of theirs.

With a shake of his head Kakashi turned to the next page, and then the two were together. They were fighting each other with their swords, they were mixing sand and a powdery looking substance together in a cauldron, they were battling the long limbed shadows, then building a bridge and fishing.

All too soon there was a single page left. He turned it over and his heart leapt into his throat.

The two of them were high in the sky, misty clouds swirling around them, and they were laughing. They had wings, the strange, beautiful wings that looked like a dragonfly’s but he knew felt like downy feathers.

What gave him pause was that he’d drawn himself into the picture.

His hair was longer and his uniform jacket looked thinner, but excepting that he looked like himself. Besides the wings, of course. Picture him had wings too, and he was flying with the man and women he’d drawn on the back of nearly every other page.

Picture him was laughing under the mask, he could tell. A real, honest laugh.

He felt a sudden, irrational stab of anger. Who were those two? Why had he drawn them? Why was he laughing in the picture, in what world did he have the right to laugh?

He squashed that last paper into a tight ball, crumpling it without thought, and threw the impressively small wad at one of his bookshelves. It bounced off of the side and rolled under the couch.

Kakashi tore the other pages up one by one and burned them in the sink.

Kakashi was battling two rain-nin, both males around his age donning full face gas-masks and tanks of toxins on their backs. He defeated them easily, trapping them in genjutsu and moving quickly to help his squad.

Their opponents were taken care of swiftly, though the last one had been fast. Kakashi was, unfortunately, nicked by a custom kunai, though it was quite literally a scratch.

But these were rain ninja and he’d be surprised if there wasn’t some poison coating the weapon.

He downed an anti-toxin and they moved on, the clock ticking.

All seemed well until they were on their way back to Konoha. His squad was resting and Kakashi was resting too, eyes half closed and senses spread.

When he opened his eyes it was to the blank white ceilings and the overwhelming stench of hospital.

Poison, he was told, a new variant.

“Nasty! Poison is the worst,” a foreign accented voice complained.

Kakashi was too trained to bolt upright but he did anyway.

An oddly dressed man grinned at him. “Hello, hello, hello! Long time, no see.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Kakashi said slowly. His face was bare but he had no urge to hide from this stranger, and that in and of itself was concerning.

“Not in this life,” the man agreed.

Somehow he knew the man wasn’t lying, but he refused to accept such a thing. Genjutsu? he wondered. Is that why I’m so relaxed? Or maybe, he glanced to the IV, there’s a drug?

“Who are you?”

The man grinned, his purple eyes shining. “Zedaph, at your service. Well, sort of. If I was going to clean your room I’d have to find and retrieve my maid ensemble.”

“Um,” Kakashi said.

“And what’s your name?” Zedaph interrupted before Kakashi could finish processing the absurd previous statement.

“Shouldn’t you know?”

“Well nice to meet you, Shouldn’t you know! Nah, I’m kidding,” he said at Kakashi’s expression, and Kakashi was too used to the mask hiding his mouth, “I just assumed you had a new name.”

“I have an old one? What was it?” he wondered.

Zedaph grinned and shook his head. “That’d be telling! It’s better you don’t know unless you remember it yourself.”

“Hm.” He knew that if he was in the right state of mind he’d have been thoroughly unconvinced.

“So Zedaph,” he said, the name feeling right and wrong on his tongue, “why are you here?”

Zedaph shrugged. “I dunno. A cry for help? Magic? I was going to ask you the same thing.”

The hospital had long stopped leaving chairs in Kakashi’s room as they tended to meet unfortunate ends and Zadaph plopped himself gracelessly onto the bed. “Since neither of us know why I’m here, want to play I Spy?”

Kakashi actually paused to consider it, but his mind wasn’t entirely muddled.

“You said not in this life, and then confirmed I have another name. So did I… reincarnate or something?” he questioned dubiously. Kakashi did not believe in reincarnation.

Zedaph laughed. “Reincarnation? That’s an interesting concept! No, no, this thing is similar? You’re still you, and I know this won’t make much sense but your actual you is sort of buried? Nay, he’s sleeping. Or on a vacation? You’ll understand one day.”

Kakashi decided that Zedaph had no idea what he was talking about.

The blond continued to talk and his voice was comforting, and he was warm, and Kakashi would berate himself later for drifting off with a relative unknown literally right on top of him. When he was aware enough he alerted the proper channels and was reassured that there had been no such person and Kakashi was told that he must have been hallucinating, which was added to the list side effects of unknown poison.

Kakashi begrudgingly accepted that explanation, for nothing else made sense, but the thought of having another life before this lingered in the back of his mind.

The war had kept him busy, and then the post-war missions had run him ragged. Then the nine tails attacked and then-

-well, now he was here, in a mess of politics and neck deep in ANBU. He hadn’t seen his face in years. Not since he got rid of his bathroom mirror. It wasn’t on his mind so when he stopped at the moonlit river to wash the blood off of his chest plate to make himself a bit more presentable and he pulled the mask off with the intention of swapping it out for a cleaner one he froze, the distorted sight of his face peering up at him from the river.

He felt the white hot rage explode across his body, every nerve singing with screams urging him to do something. Kakashi took several breaths and the cold air turned to shards of glass in his throat as his reflection copied his movements. He had half a mind to destroy the river as foolish and illogical as it sounded.

But the longer he looked the more reluctantly intrigued he became. His fury never abated but he couldn’t tear his eye away from his hideous stupid face-!

He entertained thoughts of taking a blade to his head and carving it off of himself. This wasn’t his face, after all. Wouldn’t it be better if he got rid of this face?

The haze he’d worked himself into receded as pain bit into him and Kakashi realized that he was pressing a kunai into his own temple, awkwardly positioned like he was going to shave bits of his flesh off as though he were woodcarving.

He yanked himself away from the river and tumbled backwards with a lack of grace he’d not had since he was two.

Kakashi surveyed the village, or what was left of it.

Pain had decimated everything.

It didn’t feel as heart wrenching as he would have expected it to, but Kakashi just chalked his lack of emotional response up to battle fatigue, especially since he’d died earlier.

He pressed his hand to his side and a fresh wave of pain crashed into him, almost knocking him off of his feet. If he didn’t get medical attention soon he’d be dead for sure this time.

And would that be so bad?

He was a failure as a teacher, a poor comrade, and no matter how Guy tried, Kakashi just was not a good friend. He was not happy, was barely a shell of a person. He’d been serving as a part in this well oiled killing machine for years, was it really so bad to just want to stop?

But they need you now more than ever, a part of his mind whispered.

They’ll always need you.

No, Kakashi thought mournfully, they wanted a tool.

He sat on the rubble, a wall torn asunder, and let his blood drip onto the dusty floor.

Would he see his father again? Rin? Minato and Kushina?

Would he see Obito?

But what if he didn’t? Kakashi hauled himself to his feet and trekked to where his apartment building once stood. No one paused to give him a second glance.

Finding what was once his was difficult. He located his book collection, ruined beyond repair, and some of his uniforms. He sifted through the debris and try as he might, Kakashi just could not find the picture of his genin team.

He did find a crumpled ball of paper. Something tugged at him and he unfurled it, the picture he’d drawn years ago.

Suddenly, finding the photograph didn’t seem nearly as important. Kakashi clutched the paper between his trembling fingers and a laugh echoed though his mind.

He knew the man was something called a knight, and that the woman was a deft hand at the sword.

The knowledge startled him, and unbidden the one sided conversation he’d had with Zedaph popped into his mind, specifically the part about the actual him being buried. He’d never made the connection between his random bouts of imaginative recollections and potential deja vu- they were memories, he knew now.

Kakashi sank to his knees, too tired to stand, and looked up at the sky. He really could fly, and he did at some point. The sky was open and freeing, refreshingly chilling, and he wished he could have flown, at least once in this life.

He smelled iron and flowers.

He laid down to die.

He closed his eyes.

And then he woke up. It was disorienting, to say the least, to be dying in the ruins of his home and then be standing with perfect health in an endlessly grassy field.

“You aren’t okay.”

Kakashi spun around, reaching for weapons that weren’t there.

A short man in a baggy red sweater looked at him from eyeless sockets. Kakashi was unnerved slightly. Had… was he dead?

The endlessly flat world didn’t yield anything- there was no terrain, no buildings, and no clues. The only source of information stood in front of him.

“Am I dead?” he asked.

“If you want to be,” the man said with a frown.

Kakashi paused to consider that. Did he actually want to die?

“What happens if I want to?”

The man’s mouth twitched oddly. “You come home.”

“Home?” he repeated, a feeling he couldn’t discern crawling up his spine. Was he never going to see his precious people again?

He asked.

“Mmhm,” the man hummed unhelpfully.

Kakashi didn’t reply.

“You don’t have to decide now. Time pretty much means nothing,” the man reassured at his apparent agonizing over the decision.

“Alright.”

And they waited and waited, and although they were standing Kakashi never grew tired. Eventually he asked, “Who are you?”

“I’m Grian. What’s your name?” Grian asked.

Kakashi narrowed his eyes. “You know me,” he accused.

“That other you,” Grian admitted, “not this you.”

“Who was I?”

“I don’t think I should tell you.”

“Why not? Why won’t you tell me who I was?” demanded Kakashi, frustration mounting. The feelings that had been haunting him, the phantom sensations of something from before, and the mystery of the drawing and Zedaph all connected to a past Kakashi who wasn’t even Kakashi.

“There’s a barrier in your essence that basically allows you to be this,” Grian said, waving vaguely at Kakashi. “You won’t be who you are now you if too much leaks through. Knowing your name will tear it apart.”

“Maybe,” Kakashi said slightly peeved, “I don’t want to be me.”

Grian was quiet. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t go back. There’s no undoing this.”

His failures replayed in his mind, every one of them, and the ruined village and his father’s legacy and Sasuke and-

Well, Kakashi didn’t have anything waiting for him there. Naruto had Jiraiya and Sakura had Tsunade, and the village had more than enough competent shinobi- they didn’t need him, specifically. He’d be replaced. He took a breath and made his choice.

“I don’t care.”

Grian tilted his head and then smiled slightly. He crooked a finger towards himself, beckoning Kakashi forwards, and he moved closer and closer until they were just barely touching, fingertips brushing the space just below Grian’s elbows.

Grian stood on his toes and Kakashi tilted his head downwards.

His name was a booming roar, a quietly whispered murmur that tore him apart and hurt worse than the two deaths he’d experienced that day.

It was bliss.

Kakashi melted, melding with someone greater, something bigger. Something inhuman, someone the universe itself loved. Something that was the universe.

Clutching at Grian’s shoulders, he shuddered. Grian smiled widely, monstrously, genuine and delighted, and wrapped his arms around his friend.

“Welcome back ᒷℸ ̣ ⍑𝙹.”

He didn’t feel hollow anymore.

They say death changes a person.

Of course, the saying referred to witnessing death, to becoming acquainted with the smell and taste of it. As of late, it was holding true in a more literal sense.

Ever since Kakashi had died he’d been a bit… off. It was like something had broken; he was an entirely different person.

Killing had always left marks on people but now he was genuinely unbothered, if he decided to kill at all. If he were anyone else the lack of empathy would’ve gotten him flagged and benched, but he was one of- if not the best- ninja Konoha had.

Most alarmingly, he stopped caring about everything else too. He forgot to feed himself and he forgot to sleep, laughing when people brought it up. He didn’t bother with the minimal social interactions he’d practiced before, though he suddenly seemed very fond of Guy. He even stopped going to the memorial stone and when questioned, was open and frank about his team and their deaths, recounting them like it was something he’d heard about and not something he’d experienced and struggled with for two decades.

Kakashi had changed fundamentally, and nobody knew why. He was more whimsical than before and somehow even more emotionless.

But he was still Kakashi, knowing things only Kakashi could’ve known. Sakura and Tsunade suspected some brain damage had caused the sudden shift in his personality, but nothing concrete was found to back that belief up nor disprove it. The working theory was that the building that had fallen on him and killed him the first time had caused the injury, and when Pain resurrected him, it had healed wrong.

The mind was a tricky thing. It was so frail, so fragile. It could forget all too easily.

The soul never forgot.

#drafts #hcxnaruto #hermitcraftxnaruto #oneshot wip #The earliest draft is from like 2019-2020 if you can believe it #I’ve been touching it up and rewriting some parts #ive stitched like three old fanfic blurbs into one fic #Kakashi #Etho #Zedaph #Grian #Fanfiction #crossover

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ashes-writing · 2 years

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just what i needed | stranger things ; t.hagan

A/N ; This uh.. it may or may not have been a true labor of love for me -as is the one I have going for Billy, tbh. I started this telling myself that I probably wouldn't ever do anything with it and then an insane lack of reader fics for this goofy freckled bastard -and a burning desire to at very least fix friendships and meddle around with what could've been (in the case of tommy and billy and friendship) and yeah.. Here we are. I go into this fully aware that literally nobody asked for this and most likely, this will not be one of the series that a lot of people read, but.. I can't just not post it. I can't.

So, if you've been looking for a short lil Tommy x reader thing, here we are, babes.Sorry it's a reader insert, this just worked for me, idk.

Pairing ; Tommy Hagan x Good girl!Fem reader

Timeline / Other Stuff to Note ; this one is set around the point in season 2 when Tommy and Steve have their falling out. It's written under the pretense that Carol dumps Tommy for whatever reason and there will be so much billy and tommy friendship fuckery (Despite me own personal belief that Tommy loved both Steve and Billy but also wanting to like.. let other tommy fans insert themselves into the picture anyway..) There will be no upside down + it's unholy terrors here. Just the same as allll the others, this is a teen rom com / slice of life thing so there won't be anything but the normal here.

Tag List ; @musichealsscars is the only person on my stranger things tag list. I throw a tag out to @rampagewriting -bae, if this is not your cup of tea, you can totally skip this, it's fiiine. if you'd like to be added to my taglists for anything including fandom piece in question is for, please let me know or add yourself -> here.

Warnings ; Tommy coming to a lot of huge realizations. Underage drinking (and yes, a short drive bc this is the 80's) and a no parents house party situation. Lots of sexual tension, mentions of fuck marry kill being played, a very very drunk reader and a slightly less cocky version of Tommy bc he's going through a lot here and he's getting his head around it. Huuuge potential that Billy and Tommy are more than a little OOC here. I've been dying to write them but i miiight not be the best at it.

Other Stuff ; tag list doc || my rules - fandoms and some characters I write for || requests are open (pls.. pls... send me things) but they're limited to headcanon asks + filth/fluff alphabet letters and I'm not accepting wrestling / wrestlers in my ask box. Any other fandom/character but wrestling that I happen to write for is fine and I beg of you -> send me things.

I do not consent to my work being reposted elsewhere or copied/reworked/rewritten and reposted here or elsewhere. You don't own this, I do. So like... don't steal my shit.

“I think we need a break, Tommy.”

– when she said it, the first thing he thought was that she was just bored. She wanted to fool around with other guys and she’d come crawling back. That had been almost a month ago.

And so far?

Carol Perkins hadn’t looked back a single time.

Tommy just wasn’t sure what exactly to do with himself. With Steve preoccupied with the situation with himself, Nance and Byers, Steve wasn’t in the right frame of mind to give him any real advice and they weren't talking anyway because they'd gotten into it for those exact reasons. Billy Hargrove turned out to be the one to notice his internal struggle.

Billy had taken him aside.

“Be dressed and ready at 8. You’re goin to Tina’s party with me tonight.”

Billy’s tone indicated clearly that he wasn’t fucking around.

So with the firm order, Tommy threw together a last ditch effort Halloween costume. A red bandana rolled and tied around his forehead. A sleeveless white tank top and some old oil-stained jeans he had lying around that had clearly seen better days. To give the outfit a little more realism, he even offered himself up to mow the lawn for his old man.

Around 7:45, he found himself standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom, the plastic Bowie knife strapped to his bicep. He laughed at how ridiculous it was, the idea that a stupid Halloween party was somehow going to fix the place his head was at lately. He knew it wouldn't, obviously. The problem was that this time, he just didn't know what the fuck to do to even begin fixing at least some of the problem.

He almost called Billy to call the whole thing off but right around the time he picked up the phone downstairs in the hall to do it, the loud rumble of the Camaro driven by Billy Hargrove came roaring up the street, an abrupt halt at the curb in front of the Hagan house.

Billy laid on the horn, half out the window, yelling out to him. “Get your ass in, Hagan. C’mon, we got shit to do.”

Tommy made his way down to the Camaro and got in on the passenger side. The drive was quiet at first. But Billy shattered the silence. “Remember my talk with Harrington? I’m gonna tell you the same thing so just fuckin listen, alright? Carol’s not worth it, man. Look, she was screwing around on you over the summer. You know it, I know it because you told me a thousand times. You weren’t really that happy either and she kinda treated you like shit, Hagan.”

“Yeah,yeah.” -but it’s hard to let go of an old habit and essentially, that was the perfect description of his relationship with Carol Perkins since as far back as 7th grade. The more he thought about it lately, the harder it was to remember why he’d even liked her in the first place.

She was blunt, rude, definitely spoiled. And while he always took up for her, she never seemed willing to do the same for him. They spent nearly all their time arguing -that is when they weren’t fucking at his house or hers or in his backseat.

Steve might have been onto something when he broke away from their usual girls.

Granted, he’d picked the worst one possible to experiment breaking away with, but the fact remained… Steve did seem more at ease now that he wasn’t just amassing himself a body count.

“There are other girls out there, man. There’s other fish in the sea.” Billy said it with a shrug as he exhaled smoke and took the last drag of his cigarette. “Tonight, you’re gonna see that. You’re gonna see I’m right.”

Tommy laughed. “Doubtful, but whatever.”

Billy rolled his eyes. For whatever reason, Tommy felt the need to elaborate. “Girls don’t date the sidekick, Hargrove. They date, well… You or Steve. Not me.” Tommy said it with absolutely none of the bitterness or the jealousy this fact made him feel, just flat. As if it were something he’d come to accept.

“I’m gonna smash your fuckin head against a wall, idiot.” Billy rolled his eyes. “Look. You’re not just the fuckin sidekick. You’re probably one of few actual friends I’ve got here. This is for your own good, man.” Billy’s Camaro pulls to a stop behind a red Mustang fastback that Tommy’s seen around the Hawkins High parking lot a time or two but never really bothered to pay attention to. When he caught sight of the license plate, he snickered to himself and nudged Billy, nodding to it. “TOOFAST, huh?”

Billy rolled his eyes. “Please. It’s Ford. The only thing it’s too much of is a pain in the ass when it breaks down on the side of the road. Ya know,” he rubs his chin and chuckles, “The driver’s this real cute little thing. Shy as hell, man. Her brother gave her the car.”

Billy could have told him that the driver in question was the same girl that had him stopping midsentence when he popped into the class BIlly just happened to have with her, but Billy wasn't about to do that, oh no. Where was the fun in doing that?

Tommy’s brow quirked. “A girl drives that.”

“Mhm. Like a little old lady out for Sunday brunch, but she drives it.” Billy laughs from the front step of Tina’s house as he looks back at Tommy who is still admiring the car. Tommy shrugs. “Not bad.. For a Ford, I mean. It’s red.”

Inside the crowded house party, you dangled your keys in your hands while nursing a heavily spiked cup of punch and somehow, wishing it was stronger. Parties were not your thing. People -especially the viper pit known as the cool kids at Hawkins High, were even less your thing. You only tolerated Hargrove because he wasn’t fake like the rest of the ‘cool kids’. And he knew your older brother, so you kind of had to tolerate him at this point. And maybe at some point, tolerance turned to an odd sort of friendship, and that odd friendship was the reason you were even here tonight. Sneaking out to a party which was not something you'd normally do. Neither was drinking but.. It was taking the edge off.

It was Billy’s idea to talk you into coming out to this alcohol fuelled open grope fest.

But you were annoyed. It was too loud. Too cramped. Just too much.

And Billy, the asshole responsible for talking you into sneaking out tonight, well.. He was running late as usual.

“Five more minutes. If he’s not here in five more minutes, I’m out.” you say it to yourself as you slam back the contents of the red plastic cup in your hand. You make your way into the kitchen. There are a few people in there but not as many as the living room or out back where the keg is set up, waiting to be tapped.

Madonna gives way to Ballroom Blitz and you bounce around on your feet a little, grinning.

At least this isn’t more of that shitty pop music Tina and Carol have been playing on a heavy rotation all night. At least it’s… something.

You’re swaying your hips to the music as you dance around the kitchen, opening cabinets and just being nosey overall. When your eyes light on the bottle of vodka, you raise a hand and giggle. “This oughta numb the stupidity my eyes are beholden right now.” you muse as you scramble up onto the counter and grab for the bottle.

You’ve just uncapped it and taken a huge sip when your best friend Layla wanders in and gapes. Not only are you at Tina’s stupid party, you’re drinking vodka straight from the bottle. She nods to the bottle in your hand. “Pace yourself, lightweight.”

“Oh my god, fuck off, Lay.” you laugh a little. Your eyes flit around, taking in the drunken mass of teenagers at varying stages of drink or fuck. All that’s missing is a brawl. And you laugh as soon as that thought comes because with Billy supposedly coming out tonight, that’s a very real possibility.

“Is he here?”

“Who?” you answer, taking another sip. The burn of the vodka is starting to lessen. It’s starting to go down a lot smoother now.

This probably should’ve been your warning to stop but sadly, it won’t be.

“Billy! You’re the one who’s friends with him, God knows how that one got started..” Layla has that dreamy look. The one she always gets right before she does something so stupid it’s almost incomprehensible. It usually ends with her, crying in her room -or yours, while she talks about boys being dogs and insisting they don’t want anything but sex.

“Hey!” you pout and you find yourself glancing around. Billy isn’t here. But to be fair, Billy isn’t exactly the person you’re looking for right now, either. No, the guy you’re looking for is Tommy Hagan and the fact that you can’t seem to stop yourself from searching for him in a crowd frustrates you to no end.

Layla’s still going on and on about how neat it must be to be partially in-crowd when you zone back into the present and out of your daze. You laugh hysterically because it’s just not true.

They’re royalty -supposedly, and you’re just.. Not.

You’re the quiet one. The awkward one. The girl who doesn’t really do well with others. People always assume you’re a sweetheart -and you are, but.. This comes with the nifty little annoyance that they also feel like they can just plow right over anything you say or any boundaries you set. And if it weren’t so damned hard to just speak up, to just let yourself get good and angry like you want to sometimes, if you had the spine to stand up for yourself, they’d find out real quick that you’re not the girl to mess with.

“Oh my god, did you see who Carol is here with?” Layla finally changes the subject. At the mention of Carol Perkins, you roll your eyes. “Nope.” the p lingers as you say it. Calmly raising the bottle of vodka to your lips to take another long pull. “Don’t really care, either.”

“Ben! She’s here with Ben.”

“So?” you shrug. It did sting a little, knowing the queen bitch of Hawkins High was at Tina’s Halloween party with your latest ex, the one who dumped you because you were “too boring.” Which was bullshit, it was guy code for “won’t just crawl into my backseat willingly.”.

But then the stray thought crept in. Tit for tat.

You are real quick to shove this out. As if Tommy Hagan, with beautiful eyes and goofy smile -and admittedly, not a working brain cell in his head, bless his heart, and those goddamn freckles and that fucking dry sense of humor.. As if Tommy Hagan would ever look twice at you.

“So? You’re not upset?”

“She can fuckin have him, honestly.” you shrug and laugh as you take another sip, “And he can take a flying fuck on a rolling donut.” your words slur just a little and at the two times you say fuck in the same sentence, Layla glances from you to the bottle in your hand and she just laughs.

“Hey… Let’s get Isla and Dot… Maybe we can play a little Kill,Fuck,Marry or somethin.. Maybe make this bullshit party at least a little fun for us, the peasants.”

You shrug.

On cue, Isla rushes in and she’s all laughter and trying to grab you both to kiss your cheeks. She absolutely reeks of alcohol and she’s probably a good two of three sheets to the wind. Dot wanders in behind her, a cup of punch raised to her lips.

“Did you see who your ex is here with? He downgraded, girl. He downgraded so bad.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head no while shrugging. “Layla already told me and honestly, I don’t fucking care. Ben can go fuck himself.”

Dot blinks. Then she sees the bottle in your hand and she giggles. “Oh.” she laughs out. “Oh… so you’re actually letting the sassy side out to play tonight, hm? This can be fun.”

“Or it’ll be a complete fucking disaster, either way. I’m here. So.. are we playin or not?” you hop up to sit on the counter. There’s a radio sitting beside you and mostly to combat the pop bullshit in the living room, you turn it on and flip through the stations until you find your preferred one.

After a little tuning -and a giggly smack to the back of the radio, Steveie Nicks just barely picks up and you hum along with Dreams as you work the heeled boot off of one of your feet with the other. It’s just now that Isla seems to notice your lack of a costume.

“This is a costume party. I thought you were the living embodiment of spooky, bitch?”

You shrug. And with a roll of your eyes, you brandish the stupid cat headband you’d picked up last minute at the general store in town. “I wasn’t planning on coming here but somebody insisted.” you drawl out, laughing. “And then, naturally, the asshole is late.”

Isla and Dot share a look and Layla fills them in. “Billy.”

Their eyes light up and you roll your eyes. “Oh no. Nope. Absolutely fuckin not, alright? Look. he’s my friend and all but I can tell you with absolute certainty that he is… Not lookin.”

They all pout in unison. Layla slips up onto the kitchen island to sit and Isla hops up onto the counter next to you. Dot grabs a dining chair and drags it over, turning it so the back of the chair is pushing up her tits because of course she is, she’s also wearing a low cut pirate dress.

“Okay, when we left off last weekend in Kasey’s treehouse, it was your turn.” Layla smirks at you as she makes grabby hands at the bottle of vodka. You take a few sips and grimace. The burn is dull, but every other sip or two it sneaks back around to surprise you. You can feel it working, you’re lightheaded. Lightheaded and you can’t stop laughing.

Or saying wildly inappropriate things, as you’re just about to find out.

“Okay,” Layla is glancing at you with a wicked gleam in her eyes, “Kill, Fuck Marry… Steve Harrington, Ben or…” she glances around and rubs her chin thoughtfully as her eyes settle on someone just outside the room. “Tommy Hagan.”

You scowl and flip her off, laughing.

“Oh god.. Ben’s dead. And I’m reversing the damn car to make sure he doesn’t come back. Steve is.. Out entirely because honestly, he’s so…” you rub the bridge of your nose as you try to think of a word to fit the way you feel, your eyes brightening when you come up with the perfect one, “over-rated. Yeah.. yeah, that’s the word I’m lookin for.”

“You can’t–” Isla and Dot are about to argue that you can’t place one person into two categories but Layla shushes them. You don’t notice it, you’re swinging your bare legs against the cabinet below the counter you sit atop as you stare at the red polish on your toes, but Layla nods to Tommy, who just happens to be standing right outside the kitchen with an almost comical look of shock and awe on his face, at least a little invested with this little game of hypotheticals.

After all, how can he not be? His name was mentioned.

He’s hanging around because his name is the only one left. And the realization that this means for once, he’s been chosen.. Noticed.

And the fact that it’s you, well..

The poor guy is struggling heavily inside himself right now. But he’s listening because he just needs to hear you say it. There has to be a reason.

“We’re waiting.” Layla clears her throat.

You shotgun a generous sip from the bottle in your hand and pass it to Isla when she nudges you and nods to it. You burp and then you laugh, a snort coming that makes your three friends double over.

“Wait, whoa.. Let me get this right.. You can pick between Steve Harrington and Tommy Hagan and you’re picking.. Him..” Isla wrinkles her nose as it sinks in. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why?” she hands the bottle back to you. Dot reaches for it and you lean out and nearly faceplant the damned kitchen floor in the process and you would have if Isla hadn’t grabbed you by the arm to pull you back. You’re laughing as you lean your head back against the cabinet behind you. “Y-you asked for it.”

“Well?” Layla taps her wrist and she’s barely hiding a smirk. Tommy is frozen in the doorway, watching you like a hawk. Like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you before and he’s absolutely fucking… smitten. And Layla knows he’s standing there, she could easily tell you he’s standing there but honestly, she’s figured out a long time ago that you might or might not have just the teeniest crush on the guy. And she knows you’ll never say it without a little push. And a lot of liquid courage.

“Ugh, fiiine.” you raise the bottle to your lips. When the radio at your side starts playing Careless Whisper, you glare at it and flip it off. “Ew, fuck.” you grumble.

You’re stalling, of course.

“First of all,” you speak up after things have settled down a little. “Carol Perkins was fuckin lucky to have him, okay? Lucky. All the shit he put up with outta her and he protected her and stood up for her? Marriage material, bitches. Like seriously, just ugh…. Watching him stand up to somebody for her used to get me so damn hot. He deserves better, y’know. I mean, shiiiit.. Anybody is better than Carol no tits to speak of Perkins…” you turn the cat ears over in your hand thoughtfully. Then after a second or two, you slip it onto your head. Crooked, but of course it is.

You’re laughing again, that same dreamlike look on your own face that you were taunting Layla for when it came to Billy Hargrove earlier. You sigh. “As far as the fuck verdict. Listen, if I’m going to..” you’re hiccupping and as you do it, you frown at yourself and a hand raises to your lips as if to stop the soft sounds. You’re not a drinker, not by any stretch.

Outside the kitchen, Billy’s noticed Tommy lingering. Watching you. He smirks to himself. He’d known it the second he got to know you somehow. Tommy Hagan would absolutely eat up the whole cute and quiet little thing you normally have going on. And when he got to really know you and realized that you have this sass, this fire that you keep hidden… Oh god.

It was the whole reason he dragged Tommy out to this party. Well, that and the fact that Tommy had to come into the class you have with Billy earlier in the afternoon before he asked you to come and when Tommy walked in, Billy couldn’t help but notice the goofy little smile. Or the way you were flushed and flustered to a point where you dropped your pen at least three damn times while staring and trying to make it seem as if you weren’t.

Oh and, he’d also noticed Tommy doing his own fair bit of sharing when you weren’t looking, when you had your nose buried in the magazine you’d stashed inside your textbook while you pretended to pay attention.

This needed to happen.

So when he hears the topic being discussed, he can’t help but chuckle and nudge Tommy. “I’m gonna go make my rounds, Hagan. Kegstands later, right?”

Tommy nods.

Fixes his focus back on you. Waiting. His heart is beating so loud he can feel and hear it in his ears.

And inside the kitchen, you speak up, digging the hole for yourself even deeper when you do it.

“Have you seen his hands? Y’know what they say about a boy with big hands or big feet…” you’re especially giggly at the thought, your skin burning hot all over, but you’re only going to keep talking. Keep digging yourself down deeper into a hole you don’t even realize you’re digging yourself currently. “All I’m saying is if I’m actually going to give up my virginity, I wanna be with somebody who knows what the fuck he’s doing. I just.. Look, you three can stop fuckin lookin at me like that, “ you pout, your voice a soft and lazy drawl because the combination of the alcohol coursing your system at the moment and just the… Thought.. Of the things you’d let Tommy Hagan do to you that you’ve kept hidden all this time, well.

You’re in a daze.

“I’m not like you, damn it. I can’t just hop in a backseat and just get it over with. I kinda..” you’re fidgeting with the sleeve of the flannel shirt you were wearing over the thin little dress you’d thrown on to wear for the night, “I want it to mean something and like.. I’ve liked him forever now, oh my god. The short answer here is Tommy fucking Hagan can absolutely wreck me, alright? Just.. yes.. Yes..”

“Wait..” Isla gazes at you. “Was he?” she trails off, shaking her head. A little stunned because for some strange reason, she’d had the feeling it was somebody else entirely.

Dot laughs and asks quietly, “So the guy you wrote all that stuff about for creative writing. The little shorts and the poems that had the goddamn teacher so flushed she couldn’t even read it out loud like she said she planned on doing to all of us last year…” Dot swings her feet and reaches out for the bottle as The Chain comes on the radio and you start to sing along, sighing as you shrug. “Yeah. They were about him, alright? Don’t start your shit with me, damn it. I know it’s stupid and I know I’m a sap. I don’t care.” you take the bottle back from Dot, leaning out too far again and laughing about it through a wild mess of hair as it swings down in front of you, your palms flat against the countertop to catch yourself.

When you sit back up and at least make an attempt to do something with your hair and the headband, you’re still hiccupping, laughing and your hand raises to your mouth.

“She’s soooo fucking drunk right now.” Layla laughs when she says it, giving you a little grimace.

“Girl? Are you gonna be okay?” Dot asks, snickering quietly.

“Oh sweetie.” Isla winces as she thinks about the headache you’re going to have in the morning and slips an arm around your shoulders to pull you into her side, “Your hair is gonna hurt. That’s how bad your hangover is gonna be.”

Your eyes widen, you’re starting to realize that you are well beyond the level of tipsy you set out for and you are now blitzed. Blitzed as in you’re suddenly not entirely sure if you’re walking out of the party later or you’ll wind up finding some way to con your older brother’s best friend Billy to carry you.

Layla clears her throat. “I’m going for a smoke.”

“Me too.” Dot and Isla chorus. You almost say you’ll go too because shit, why not… you’re trying out the drinking and the stupid cliche house party, the sneaking out of your house bullshit that nearly got your ass broken when you underestimated exactly how much weight the trellis by your window could hold safely.

You almost go bopping right outside with your three best friends, but.. You’re not about to try to get off the counter and fall straight down to the floor and kiss the tiles.

“The floor is lava?” you question, palming your face and leaning your head back against the cabinet behind it as Layla, Dot and Isla leave the room. When the local pop station starts to dominate the airwaves and your chosen channel is nothing but a faint ghost in the background, you scowl at the radio and reach out, snatching the cord from the plug in.

Billy makes his way in. His brow raised at you. “Are you drunk right now, pint size?” he’s barely hiding laughter in the teasing accusatory tone he takes. You’re laughing to yourself and you hold a finger up to your lips. “Shhhhhhhhh!” you look around as if any second, somebody will pop out and you’ll be in trouble for drinking.

Billy plugs the radio back in but you glare at him. You shake your head. “Too loud.”

He chuckles to himself. “Why are you sitting on the counter when there are chairs, hm?”

“The floor is lava. It’s lava, Billy.”

“The floor is lava.” Billy’s trying not to howl in laughter and in effort to hold back, he’s nearly shaking.

Sweet Caroline comes on the radio and if Billy only suspected you were totally off the tits drunk before, he gets his biggest confirmation when instead of ba ba ba you find it hilarious to yell out fuck fuck fuck.

Loud. Louder than he’s ever heard you be before. And this includes all the times he was present at your place when you’ve chased your older brother down while yelling at him about eating your ice cream or leaving the toilet seat up or using your fancy conditioner because he likes the way it makes his hair soft. Billy wasn’t entirely sure you possessed the vocal range you’ve just demonstrated until now, truth be told. And that thought has him laughing. Grinning in amusement.

Tommy is going to eat this shit right up. Guy has a bit of a protector kind of bend to him and Billy knows with no doubt that he has to go through with his plan now.

“Jesus christ.” he rubs his forehead. Then he catches sight of the bottle of vodka sitting at your side and he yanks it away. “Give me that shit! No wonder you’re fuckin drunk. How in the hell did you find vodka?”

You reach up and tap the cabinet door while snickering. “Climbed my ass up and got it, duh.” you stick out your tongue.

“I can’t right now, I fucking can’t. I’m gonna.. Let me go find you a babysitter, alright?” Billy gazes at you in concern. You’re one of the few people aside from Tommy he actually considers a friend and given that your older brother is one of the few best friends he has in this pissant little town he’s been plopped into, he feels like it’s kind of his duty to look after you.

It’s a task he’s about to relegate to Hagan’s quietly lurking ass. Because you’ve just gift wrapped yourself with a shiny red bow and suddenly, Billy Hargrove knows exactly how he’ll go about casually nudging you and Tommy Hagan together.

“Hagan! Yo! Tommy! C’mere, man!” Billy’s whistle draws Tommy out of hiding where he’d been sitting in the hallway just replaying your confession over and over again because his brain wouldn’t let him let go of it.

Tommy can’t help but laugh when he sees you, swinging bare feet off the edge of the counter and the cat ears perched on your head are crooked, sagging as if at any second they’ll just fall right off.

“Yeah?” he finally manages to say something but he can’t stop staring at you and he hasn’t yet.

“Pint size says the floor is lava and she won’t get down, buddy.” Billy nods to your perch on the counter. Tommy drags a hand over his hair. When you hiccup a few times and you start giggling, Tommy feels a smile start to creep to his lips. It’s something he hasn’t really done a lot lately.

“The floor is lava, huh?” Tommy eyes you in concern. Swallowing hard when you’re staring right back at him. Everything you said about him comes rushing back and he tries to pull himself together. But he knows beyond all doubt that tonight only ends one way. He’s determined to get closer to you. Actually get to know you.

Because somehow, he knows that he’s fucked. If he tries to ignore what he knows it’s just going to keep popping up. And hearing you say everything you did earlier, everything he’s always wanted to hear, it’s just… He can’t just let you -or whatever this could turn into, slip through his fingers.

For as mouthy and vocal as you were when it was just you and the girls a few minutes before, you’ve clammed up again. It always happens around him and you feel like maybe it comes out as you being indifferent to him when the truth is, the way he makes you feel overwhelms you most of the time.

You manage a nod though, and Billy clears his throat. “ You’ve got this, right, Hagan?”

Tommy laughs quietly. “Yeah.”

“Awesome. I told some of the guys I’d go pick up some more alcohol. While I”m out I’ll find that one’s brother and let ‘im know he's gotta pick up his car.. Got it?” Billy is firm when he says it but Tommy agrees with no hesitation and then Billy is gone in the blink of an eye and this leaves you in the kitchen of Tina’s parents house all alone with Tommy.

“C’mere.” Tommy steps closer. Your heart does that stupid lazy little flip. The one you always get annoyed with yourself over when it happens. Your filter is gone right now though, so when he beckons you closer, you lean in. Against him a little because you don’t trust your sense of balance and the room is spinning all around you.

“You’re not a drinker, huh?” Tommy questions.

You shake your head. Laughter bubbling out. You’re not sure what to do with your hands and he’s so fucking close to you that for some odd reason, the idea that comes first is to grab hold of the front of the dingy white tank top he’s wearing and just kind of melt against him. “Too much potato juice.” your voice is muffled and soft and Tommy barely manages to make out what you’ve said but then he spots the half empty bottle of vodka you’ve been slamming most of the night that Billy put out of your reach on the space between the top cabinets and the ceiling and he grimaces.

“Ouch. Yeah, that’ll hurt in the morning, princess.” Tommy’s staring again. First your eyes but then his gaze shifts down. Settles on your lips. They look so fucking soft. And you smell like apples and cinnamon candy, the realization comes when he finally just can’t fucking take it anymore and winds up putting his nose against the top of your head. The tension in the taller boy’s frame just kind of melts away, all the anger and the stress he’s been carrying around because Steve’s awol lately and then Carol decided to abandon ship too, it all just kind of vanishes.

Your legs wind up around his waist and you breathe in deep. Because he smells like cologne and cigarettes, the cheap beer he’s been nursing all night and for some reason, fresh mown grass. It’s a combination that’s odd and somehow, it’s relaxing. “Oh man,” you hiccup out as you take a deep breath or two, “I-I’m g-gonna be i-in s-serious shit, for sure. Deeeep shit.”

Tommy gingerly grips your chin to make you look up at him. “Yeah?” he questions softly. “Why’s that, hm?”

Your hand goes to your mouth and you giggle. He reaches up to lower your hand and you answer, explaining that not only have you never really been a big drinker, you also snuck out of your parents house tonight to even come to this stupid party. And then Tommy realizes that when Billy tore off earlier it's because Billy had a plan in mind. You tell him that Billy conned him into coming to the stupid party in the first place.

At first, Tommy’s a little jealous. But then he thinks about the whole ‘other fish’ speech in the car on the way over. Billy’s not the most subtle. He kind of hinted around about you at one point, bringing up the fact that he caught you staring when he had to come into the class you’re in with Billy earlier in the day to get something he’d left in Billy’s Camaro.

And it hits him. Billy dragged him out to the party tonight because the shithead was going to play cupid. Or try to. And Tommy’s laughing to himself because it’s in that moment, something clicks for him further.

Billy, a Camaro driving badass that everybody’s scared shitless to cross.. Billy actually does really consider him a friend. He’s not just a sidekick.

He’s not a sidekick and he was chosen. Noticed by a girl. You didn’t notice Billy or Steve, you noticed him. You wanted him. And Billy actually valued his friendship because Billy tended to keep a distance and not get personally involved in other people’s shit otherwise, he knew Billy Hargrove well enough at this point to know that. And yet, Tommy thinks with a genuine smile, he’s getting involved right now.

The shock of it all fades away and he locks eyes with you. “You wanna come outside with me?”

You nod quietly. “Not s’ sure I’m gonna be the best walker..” you give this cute little sheepish shrug when you say it. He laughs and shrugs too. “I gotcha.” he scoops you up to carry you out the back door and your arms wind up around his neck and you’re laughing because you can’t stop thinking about what you admitted to your friends during your little stupid game earlier.

Parts of you are tempted to just let it all slip out but the other parts of you, the parts of you that know better and know it’ll be a disaster, they override the overwhelming urge, thankfully.

You’re just kind of quiet, kind of content to take what you can get -fully aware that you’ll pretend this went further than it did later on when you’re all alone. The thought elicits a soft purr that tickles this one spot on Tommy’s neck that’s the quickest way to drive him crazy.

He has to tighten his grip because when he hears -and feels, the sound, it’s all he can do not to drop you because it goes straight to his cock. And the inner turmoil grows. Because now, he’s not only dealing with whether to sit on what he’s overheard or bring it up somehow but in addition, he’s dealing with the fact that it’s been quite a dry spell, this is the longest he’s gone without some kind of physical affection, even if it’s just a heated kiss to shut his former girlfriend the hell up.

So every little noise, every little shift your body makes against his, all of it… It’s really driving him crazy right now. He’s real riled up but… He’s determined to behave himself.

This needs time. You’re not in the shape right now and Tommy’s honestly just enjoying the night for what it’s turned into for once. He hasn’t felt this happy in a really long time.

Since 7th grade when Carol just sort of drifted into his life and Steve stood up for him with some asshole in their class who constantly tormented him about any number of things, from his teeth, to his freckles or the way he dressed back then.

He’s forgotten what it feels like and now that he’s being reminded, he just isn’t in a hurry for the feeling to end.

He digs around in the pocket of his jeans to retrieve a lighter and you’re clinging to him. “I’ve gotta be getting heavy to hold.” you gaze at him in concern and Tommy’s brow raises. “Are you kiddin me?”

“Well, I mean..” you laugh softly. “I’m not a feather, y’know.”

“You’re not a cow either, holy shit.” Tommy laughs and the laughter dies away. You don’t feel right clinging to him the way you are or making him hold you so you slip out of his arms. Tommy pouts a little to himself, the pout fading when you compromise by leaning against him. He lights his cigarette and takes a long drag. “Hey..” he nods to a lounge chair on the deck, “C’mon. Let’s get you sitting. Pretty sure everything is spinnin right now, huh?”

You giggle. Hold up your fingers and drawl that it is.

He situates himself in the lounge chair and pulls you down so that you’re sitting between his legs. You lean yourself back against him and before he can stop himself, an arm is slipping around your waist. He tells himself it’s just so your ex boyfriend will fuck off and leave you alone tonight, because he happens to be lurking outside and watching the two of you intently,

But deep down he knows that isn’t the only reason.

You spot a cluster of stars. And you glance back at him. “I think that’s Cassiopeia.”

Tommy’s blank look prompts an explanation and about halfway through, you feel like maybe you’re boring him to death because you have to be, this isn’t gossip and that’s what he’s used to because he’s one of them, after all. You trail off and go quiet.

Tommy leans into you a little from behind. “What were you gonna say?”

You finish telling him about Cassiopeia and the way she was elevated to the sky along with Cephus and Princess Andromeda as a star but her punishment for boasting came in the form of embarrassment, she was forced to wheel around the North celestial pole and spend half her time clinging to her throne just so she doesn’t fall off.

Tommy chuckles quietly. “There’s uh.. One problem, princess. We’re probably a little too far away from the North celestial Pole for that to be Cassiopeia.” he tries not to but he winds up resting his chin on your shoulder and you laugh softly. “You’re probably right.”

The wind picks up a little and he rubs your arms. “Cold?” he asks the question with a laugh.

“Kinda. But it’s okay.” your teeth are chattering. His jacket winds up around your shoulders and despite telling himself not to do it, he winds up positioning himself even closer so that his chest is pressed completely against his back and both of his legs cage in both of yours on the side. You gulp and when you take a few deep breaths after, they all come out shaky.

You huddle into the jacket over your shoulders for warmth and all you can smell is Tommy. All the little things that make up his scent have you smiling like an idiot. And the warmth of the jacket, you make yourself laugh quietly when you have the thought that he’s an actual human furnace.

Across the patio, Ben is watching. Seething and fuming.

Furious because you barely let him touch you and yet you’re sharing a lounge chair with that idiot Tommy Hagan. Carol notices his attention’s drifted from her and when she happens to glance over to see why, she’s flooded with hurt and jealousy.

And anger because how dare him. He wasn’t supposed to get over her like this. It’s only been a few weeks.

Tommy happens to glance up just in time to catch both Ben and Carol watching you both and he tenses. Grumbles to himself about it quietly but decides right then and there that he’s not worried about either of them. If Ben wants to try something, he’ll start and finish whatever Ben attempts.

Tommy isn’t the only one whose noticed the latest happy couple of Hawkins High as their gazes burn into the two of you.

“What the hell are no tits and no brains lookin at right now?” you mutter mostly to yourself. Maybe it’s the vodka or something else that leads you to do it, but you stare right back at Carol, sticking out your tongue as you roll your eyes.

“Take a picture, holy shit.” you grumble and this makes Tommy laugh. Then he remembers that Carol used to tease you a lot when you were all kids. And he cringes at the mental replay because thinking about it now, it’s clear to him that she had to have been doing it because she was jealous, same as when she constantly gave Nancy hell last year when Steve started dating her.

When Tommy catches Ben glaring at him all he does is raise his middle finger. Unlike you, he’s loud. With a razor sharp tongue and sarcasm that knows no bounds. And he’s not afraid to say what’s on his mind.

“Keep lookin over here, Thompson. It’ll be your last fuckin mistake.” Tommy calls out to Ben.

“Have fun with your downgrade, Tommy.” Carol cozies up to Ben and smirks. Tommy is hurt a little, it does sting because you don’t just spend the largest part of your life with somebody and suddenly you can just turn off everything you felt at once, but.. The anger he feels at her comment overshadows it briefly and he comes to the realization that Carol Perkins has always been this exact brand of miserable bitch.

And he’s starting to see that maybe he was getting tired of the misery and the fighting or the way that the only time they seemed to click was whenever they were making everyone around them miserable too. This leads to his final realization.

While Steve missed his point about Nancy Wheeler entirely, Steve hadn’t been wrong to say some of the shit he said to the two of them the last time they spoke. And he knows it’s gotta be tense for Billy because they were slowly starting to be friends and then the fight happened and the rift started. They’re all on the same basketball team and this rift has definitely caused chaos in the dynamic on the court.

Maybe if he was ready to cut ties and move on, maybe he needed to try. To offer some kind of olive branch to Steve, at least tell the guy he was right, that he had been an asshole.

He decides that he’ll go over to Steve’s in the morning and he’ll try to talk to him. In honor of turning over what he hopes will be a new leaf.

You decide to turn so that you’re facing Tommy and when you do, this causes you to put your legs over his thighs with your feet dangling off the chair. Tommy’s eyes catch on your lips again. He licks his lips and you swallow hard, your eyes following the way his tongue drags over his lips.

When you blurt it out before you can stop yourself, you want to disappear, melt away through the the patio straight into another dimension never to return.

“You uh.. You have really pretty eyes.” you mumble quietly, your gaze settling on the way your bare legs top Tommy’s jean clad thighs. Tommy swallows hard and chuckles. And there’s this little rush, the slightest lazy flutter in the pit of his stomach.

“You do too.” he answers after taking another drag of the cigarette he’s nearly smoked to the butt end. He flicks the cigarette at a bucket nearby full of glass bottles, ice cream wrappers, other food wrappers and a few other cigarette butts.

Then he turns his attention back to you.

Across the way a little, Ben and Carol are both fuming about their respective losses. Carol smirks to herself as she decides that if she can’t have Tommy some little nobody like you is getting him either. She fully intends to make your life a living hell from Monday onward.

Maybe if she pushes hard enough, you’ll back off and Tommy won’t move on, leaving her behind.

And Ben agrees to go along with it simply because he’s an asshole and he genuinely can’t stand Tommy Hagan.

Billy arrives back at the party with an armload of beer that he dragged your older brother out of bed to get and you cringe when you ask, “So.. uh.. How much trouble am I in?”

“You’re good, pint size.” Billy shrugs and grins.

You raise a brow. Billy laughs. “Relax, woman. Just fucking like.. Enjoy tonight.”

You nod.

Tommy takes one of the cans for himself and gets one of the other guys on their team who’s heading back inside to see if Tina’s still got Sprite or something in the house.

“My girl’s kind of toasted, buddy.” Tommy explains to Eric with a chuckle. Eric gives him a thumbs up and glances from you back to Tommy. “Your girl, huh?” Eric chuckles again. “Sprite. Comin up, man.”

You blink a little but you don’t try to correct Tommy when he says it because deep down, you wish it was true.

Eric comes back out a minute or two later and he tosses the Sprite to Tommy. Tommy pulls the tab and hands it to you. “I don’t think you need to mix vodka with this shit, " he holds up the beer he's drinking and continues, "princess. Hangover’s already gonna be hell tomorrow, I think.”

Billy winces but he laughs. “And I’m going to come over bright and early just to be loud.”

“You, sir, are a dick.” you pout and stick your tongue out at Billy.

Billy shrugs. But he laughs. “Nah.”

You stick out your tongue at him.

Tommy chuckles quietly.

“I’m gonna talk to Harrington tomorrow. Try to clear the air, man. We’ve got that big practice game next week.”

Billy nurses the beer in his hand and nods. “Yep. We all need to be on the same page, Hagan. Guy needs to get his head in the game. So do you. But I think you’re gonna be okay… Right?”

Tommy laughs and nods in agreement.

Billy chuckles. “It’s about damn time, Hagan.” he tosses him another cold one after Tommy’s crushed the can of the one he’s just finished in his hand. “Chug, Hagan.”

Tommy laughs, but he starts to chug down the beer Billy’s just given him.

The party is coming to a quiet conclusion inside. Billy stands and stretches, giving a lazy yawn. “I think this party is dead now.”

“Totally dead.” Tommy agrees and all you do is yawn sleepily and give a thumbs up. Tommy snickers and then his gaze settles on you. Billy speaks up. “Pint size… You comin with us or what?”

“The car.” you start to speak up and remind Billy that you did drive your Mustang to the party tonight, but Billy shakes his head, shutting it down with a shrug.

“Your brother said he’d get it in the morning if there wasn’t a dependable DD to drive it. You realize you’re gonna owe him one though… Right?”

“Yeah.” you grumble about owing your brother one but you’re happy that he’s actually not going to rat you out to your mother because she’d have a small farm if she knew that you not only snuck out tonight to come in the first place, but you were also too drunk to really function for most of the night.

And the lecture you’d get, oh my god.

Tommy stands and this puts you wrapped around him. His arms caged underneath your ass and he’s holding onto you nice and tight so he doesn’t drop you. “I got the back seat, man.”

“Neither of you were gettin shotgun anyway.” Billy states, glancing from Tommy to you as he holds up the half of the case he’s got left. “Where else am I sittin my drinks, hm?”

Tommy laughs. The three of you make your way out to Billy’s Camaro and as it pulls to a stop a few houses down from your house, Tommy slips out and holds out his hand. “C’mon. I’ll help you get in.”

“Y-you don’t have to.”

“I want to though.” he insists. You can only nod and let him grab your hand and pull you out of the backseat. Then you’re being carried again, deposited on the steps by the back door.

Tommy’s hesitant to leave, so he’s lingering. Stepping closer to you as he leans in and one of his hands catches in the hair at the back of your head. Your noses bump clumsily and you both laugh. The kiss is sweet but awkward, your hand gripping the front of his shirt as you raise up onto your toes to close the distance between your mouths. When your brother finally drags himself down to open the door, he chuckles and sizes Tommy up.

As you’re about to disappear into your house, Tommy runs back up.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” he wants to kick himself because he meant to ask you if you wanted to do something the next day. Not tell you he’d see you. “Fuck.” he grumbles, annoyed with himself. “I meant to ask if you wanted to go to the Hawk with me tomorrow night. That uh.. The Terminator is playing, I think.” and again, he wants to kick himself because this is not something he’s used to at all. He laughs. “Or we can see something different.”

You giggle. Raise up to tiptoe to brush your lips against his as you place your hand against his shirt. “The Terminator is fine… Rambo.” you give him a little wink before vanishing into your parents house because you just can’t resist the urge.

Tommy grins like an idiot and as he bolts back down to Billy’s idling Camaro, he pumps his fist in victory.

Billy’s laughing as he watches Tommy race towards him. The Camaro speeds off and Billy smirks when he glances over at Tommy out of the corner of his eye as he drives away and casually repeats what he told him hours ago when they were sitting at the curb outside Tina’s party. “I told you, man. Plenty of other fish in the sea.”

Tommy chuckles. “Yeah, okay. Yeah you did.”

#tommy hagan #tommy hagan fanfiction #tommy hagan x fem!reader #tommy hagan imagine #tommy hagan oneshot #tommy hagan x fem!reader imagine #// if i go beyond part 1 there is going to be so much steve/tommy/billy friendship and shenanigans i s2g #// bc lowkey i kinda liked any of the three with each other #// but to write it oh god. i'd never fucking do it justice bc just trust me.#// so yeah.#// this is out there now.#// idk if there will be more or not. i left room to add if i choose.#// i just had to give my two babies ... something.#// so why not indulge everyone else too hm?#// so if you've been looking for an x reader thing with Tommy H... here ya go i guess.

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