#only reason i stayed was bc i froze. and i really need that screening to get an actual assessment and i was fairly certain that

[nezuscribe]

ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴏᴏꜰᴛᴏᴘ

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pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

summary: one thing led to another and the argument you had with peter a couple weeks ago put a rift in your relationship, when spiderman comes in unannounced at your pit party, it only opens a door to two idiots finding their peace with one another.

genre: angst, ex-friends(ish) to lovers, fluff

word count: 3.2k+

note: this is just a blurb i wrote bc nothing is working out for me rn so i needed to destress with this fine ass man

masterlist

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As much as it was difficult to discern between the glossiness of your eyes and the blurry skylines of Queens, you really wanted to guess it was tears that were causing this.

The wind was biting and unforgiving, and although you had initially thought it would be this chilly, there was a whole new set of emotions that sent your body in a rigid form.

There was a box of pizza next to you, and even if your stomach rumbled, you knew you couldn't hold the food down for long.

With the air that rushed past your ears and the erratic thumping in your weak chest, you missed the little thump that came from behind you.

"Whoa..." Your shoulders froze at the voice, "You're not um," You whipped your neck around, mouth falling open in surprise when you saw who it was, "You're not thinking of jumping, are you?"

Despite his wide popularity, especially around your area, you had never seen the hero before, and seeing spiderman up close was definitely much more intimidating than you thought it would be.

He was clad in his infamous red suit, though his voice was certainly much deeper than you expected it to be. Perhaps even fake? It sounded far too low for any normal human being.

You felt your cheeks heating up in his presence regardless, embarrassed that the celebrated hero found you in such a vulnerable state, and you quickly swatted at your cheeks to rid them of any tear tracks.

"I-" You paused, not knowing if you should bow or courtesy or shake his hand, and you suddenly felt your mouth running dry as you continued to just stare at him, "Mr, um, spiderman? It's such an honor, oh god, if only my friends were here, oh wow..." You trailed off, rambling as you paced back and forth, heartbeat picking up as you stuttered to a stop.

"No! I'm not um," You suddenly remembered his original question as you glanced behind you, to the ledge you were sitting on, and gulped, "Not thinking of j-jumping."

His little eyes narrowed and you took a step back, picking at your nails as you nervously looked back at him, not knowing what you should do.

You watched in silence as he gazed around you, noting the little blankets you had laid out, the pizza box left untouched, the little cupcakes you had made earlier, the laptop whose screen faded to black after some time of no use, and you could almost see the questioning in his spider-eyes.

Peter, in all his glorious honesty, didn't know why he was here.

From the way it had been going the past couple of weeks, it seemed that you no longer wanted anything to do with him. The arguing had gotten to such a point he genuinely questioned if you could even stand being in the same room as him, let alone spend quality time together.

But he knew you too well, your apartment building too well, and seeing your frame on that rooftop worried a part of him he never knew was there.

Aside from your awkward shuffling, it seemed that you were either nervous from him being here, or just not expecting any company guessing on the layout, but a part of him itched, no, ached to speak with you again, even if it wasn't on knowing terms.

You, however, half expected him to leave, seeing that his hero duty was out of the way. If you weren't going to jump, then he'd have no use being here. But he seemed quite intent on staying if his awkward posture said anything about it.

"That's um, that's good," He faltered when he saw you looking at him, quickly glancing somewhere else as he tried to think of logical reasoning behind you being up here.

"Are you havin' a party up here or something?" He finally asked after a couple of seconds of uncomfortable silence.

You must have had a shockingly surprised look on your face for the little laugh that escaped his lips, and you gave him a small smile, and then a nod.

"Yeah, um, actually," You rubbed the back of your head as you looked at the pitiful scene, "Can't say it's been such a success, though," You gave a sad snort, kicking some little pebbles aside as you waited for him to respond again.

He began walking around a bit, scooping out the rooftop as he looked over his shoulder, waiting for you to explain.

"What's the party for?" You watched intently, deciding whether or not to tell the famous hero the truth, but you figured this would be the last you'd be seeing of him, so you shrugged, sitting down near the ledge as you rested your chin on your elbows, peering out into the skyline as you answered.

"My birthday," You sighed, trying your best to bit back the tears you had so terribly fought against the past hour, "But uh," You gnawed on your lip from keeping it from wobbling, "Not many people showed up if I'm being honest."

Unbeknownst to you, since your back was to him, Peter stopped instantly upon your words, heart freezing in his chest as he watched your breathing become a bit ragged.

No, it couldn't have been today. It had to have been in a couple weeks, it had to be, but as he counted the days down in his head he could only come to one faithful number.

"So," He clenched his fists, grateful that you couldn't see him, "Who came?" Please, he prayed, let Gwen have to remember to come.

You took in another shaky breath, really hoping that the masked hero had terrible hearing as you shrugged, quickly wiping at your eyes as you harshly bit your cheek.

"Nobody," You breathed roughly through your nose, "But it's okay, actually," You looked back at him, trying to look your strongest as you pointed to the pizza and cupcakes, "I'll probably just celebrate with my parents when they come back from their trip." You felt your voice get quieter and quieter in embracement. Eventually, you just shut up as you let the roar of car honking take over.

For once, he was grateful you didn't know of his identity. It helped him a bit by looking like less of a dick as he slowly approached you, still formulating the words to make up for his unmasked counterpart.

"Well, they're all terrible friends, then," He said carefully, calculating your response.

Even so, he didn't want to blame her for a mistake that was his fault. He knew he should have taken the blame for the falling out you had a while ago, but his ego was far too big to accept something like that.

So instead, he just brought you down with him, when he knew damn well it wasn't your fault.

But instead, curse your evergrowing heart, you let out a soft giggle, rubbing your nose to hide the snot as he crouched down a bit further from you.

Never in your wildest dreams would you have guessed you'd be spending your birthday with the spiderman. Even if you were crying your eyes out in front of him, it felt a little better to be with someone than to be alone.

"It's kinda on my end, if I'm being honest," You admitted, giving a wet chuckled as you glanced at his mask, gnawing on our bottom lip as you decided if you should tell him the truth.

"Oh?" Peter wanted to know more, who you wanted to blame, but spiderman just had to act curious, and a part of him felt terrible for lying to you like.

In all your years of knowing you, you've never done anything to deliberately hurt him. Push him sometimes, sure, but that's what your friendship was. Cheesy jokes, lame movie jabs, and hours spent struggling over chemistry homework because the teacher just refused to hold any office hours.

"Yeah," You heaved out another sigh, turning around as you leaned back on the bricks, "I haven't really been speaking to them, but..." You trailed off, deep in thought. You knew the texts went through, so it was only up to them to ignore it.

You hoped, in a sense, that this would reconcile things between your group. You could count on a singular hand how many times this had happened before, and you really tried your best to use things you knew they liked to get them to ease up a bit.

"It's no excuse for them not to come. They're your friends," He firmly said in his deep voice, and despite his serious tone, you let out another laugh, stopping instantly when you felt as though you were disrespecting him.

His eyes narrowed again, but under his mask, he felt his lips quirk up in a small smile, thankful to have made you laugh somehow, even if it was indirectly caused.

"What?" He questioned, but even then, it might have been the ain you felt or just how tired you were from everything, you chortled again.

"I'm sorry, it's just that," You pointed weakly to his mask, "Your voice is a bit, well," You bit your lip, thinking of the right worm "Distorted."

Peter grinned, shifting his posting so that he was crossing his knees, facing you as he shrugged, playing with the hem of the blanket as he answered.

"Can't have ya' bumping into me on the street and recognizing me by voice, that's just a hassle for me to clean up," He really hoped you could tell that he was teasing despite his messed up tone, but your chest rumbled as you let out a stronger laugh, still stuffy from your crying, but still, improvement.

"Threatening to kill an innocent citizen? Surely that can't look good on your record," You joked back and he let out an audible sigh of relief.

"Not kill," His hands bumped your shoe on accident as he situated himself more comfortably on the floor, "There are more ways to make someone quiet." Peter truly knew none of them.

And just like that, you and Peter fell into your little playful banter, and after he wondered why he felt so full after being so empty these past couple of weeks, and with a solemn, guilty look at you, he knew why.

"Do you want some pizza?" You offered randomly, and almost wanted to bury yourself deep in a pile of sand for even speaking.

"Pizza?" His head turned to the box as if he'd never heard the word before.

"Yeah," You shrugged, "It's a bit cold though. But for everything you do for New York, you can have a slice, as long as you promise not to kill me when you see me on the street," You sent him a little wink and behind the mask, Peter wanted to hide his face in his hands for blushing.

"You sure?" He was hesitant in even asking the question. What would you think if you knew it was him under that mask? Surely you wouldn't offer the pizza to the Peter you knew.

"Yeah, f'course," You pushed the box to him, and then your little tupperware of cupcakes as well, "You can have some of these if you'd want, too."

His hands faltered over the box.

"Really?" It felt wrong eating this food. This had to be crossing some sort of friendship, ex-friends, on the brink, whatever the two of you were, line.

"Take as many as you'd like," You assured him as you pushed them in his direction, ducking your face in your hands, entirely angeling your back towards him as he stopped his movements.

"What are you doing?" He asked and you felt your brows furrow at the obvious question.

"Giving you privacy, of course," You responded as if it was the only explanation.

He chuckled, shaking his head as you peaked over at the ground, only for him to be peering back up at you, and you let out a quiet yelp.

The bottom of his mask was lifted up, and you could only see his mouth and the tip of his nose as he waved to you.

"Thankfully you can stare at me all you want, this mask can be detached." You felt your cheeks warm up at his words, especially now that you could actually hear his real voice.

"You are aware that I now know what you sound like, right?" You tilted your head to the side, and almost laughed when the pizza stopped right at his mouth, and you heard him let out a quiet shit before he went back to eating.

After he was done chewing, and gulped dryly, trying to see if you knew who he really was.

"Guess I'll just have to take you out now," He went for a cupcake, noting that it was chocolate, your least favorite flavor, and as he looked at you he wondered why you would have ever made these for your birthday.

"Gonna kill me on my birthday?" You rested your head back, looking up at the cloudy sky as you let out a deep breath, taking into account the sounds of happiness he made when he bit into the sweet.

"Nah," You peeked at him, seeing the little chocolate crumbs that cornered his lips and smiled, "I told 'ya; there are more ways than just one."

You feel your hands balling into fists the more he ate, almost feeling like throwing the laptop at his head if it wasn't for the damage that would follow in suit.

"Hey, Pete?" You asked, testing out your suspicion the moment you heard him speak.

"Yeah?"

His second cupcake fell from his hand as he slowly looked up, eyes widening as a look of fury overtook your features, standing up quickly as you stalked away, almost running as you tried to get to the stairs.

"H-hey! Wait up! Y/n!" You heard him calling your name, the sound getting closer and closer until a hand wrapped itself around your wrist, gently tugging you back.

You didn't expect to bump right into his chest, looking up and see his bare face, brown eyes filled with worry, hair falling into his face as he tried to carefully hold you down.

"Get off me!" You yelled, pushing his hands aside in a weak attempt as you felt new waves of tears rolling in, a new feeling flooding your veins, your brain, your heart as yous tared up a somebody you thought you had never before until tonight.

He'd never told you? Had he told Gwen? Aunt May? Why didn't he come? This had to be why he'd always show up to class with poorly-covered bruises on his face and say they came from slipping on the stairs. The questions shakily flooded your thoughts as Peter tried his best to stop you from squirming around.

"Y/n, come on, please give me a se-" You stopped, sending him a deathly looking glare as he ducked his head in shame.

"What are you thinking?" You seethed, pushing against his chest as you assessed his uniform, "Spiderman, really? Pete y-you can't be a hero right now, you're too young! It's so dangerous! A-and you have school! A-and May!" You yelled, walking wildly around as you gripped your scalp in defiant anger.

"Y/n..." He followed you around, but you shook your head, pointing a finger into his chest as you tried to wipe at your eyes to hide your weakness from him.

"God, fuck you, Peter! You stop talking to me for weeks and then show up hours after I texted you to come?" He felt his resolve shatter as your lips wobbled.

"Do you hate me? Just say it, please, I-I can't do this anymore!" You threw your hands up, going back to gnawing on your nails as you paced around, "You always flake on me, but then I see you hanging out with Gwen hours later and I just feel so stupid..." You stopped shaking and he instantly wrapped his arms around your frame, feeling your cheek pressed against his chest as you silently sobbed.

"Why didn't you come, Pete?" You whispered against his suit.

He didn't know. He didn't want to lie to you, not ever, so he stayed silent.

"Do you hate me?" You felt so weak, hands against him, trying to push away but knowing that in the end, you'd never stray far away from the comfort that was him.

"God, no, Y/n," He quickly shook his head, his hand rubbing a slow hand over your spine, his gloved hands still warm in a sense as he pressed his cheek to the top of your head, "I don't hate you. I could never hate you," He said, voice heavy as he felt slow hands wrap themselves around his waist.

"Then why," You pressed your lips together to stop the quiet sob, "Why didn't you come?"

He faltered. Before he could stop himself, he felt the truth tumbling out into a spew of words he no longer had control over but had longed to say for so long.

"Because I'm in love with you, Y/n," He felt you stop under his hands, "I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember. A-and I know, I know I shouldn't have yelled at you that night but you just scared me so much that I didn't know what to do. Y-you came in with scratches all over your face and I just forgot about your cat..." He trailed off, pulling away from you as he tried to search your eyes for a reaction, anything to tell him that he wasn't speaking to a wall.

"You love me?" You whispered back, hands hovering over his as you almost couldn't believe what he had just said.

Your breathing stopped as he slowly shook his head, not knowing if your question was good or bad.

"I-I well, love is such a broad term that you can't really kno-"

"I love you too." You stuttered out, and he stopped at your words, looking down at you as if you had hung the moon and stars and had just spoken the unforbidden words of truth he had only hoped to hear in his dreams.

He stopped, hands working almost like a clockwise motion as they carefully moved up your face, tracing your features as if he had never seen them before.

"Really?"

You nodded, but then glared at him, with no real malice in your eyes.

"Doesn't excuse you for not coming to my birthday, though." His hand still traveled up, cupping your cheek as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I know, I promise I'll make it all up to you this entire month. Anythin' you ask for darlin', I'll give you everything." It was a promise his confession wouldn't even need, but he wasn't lying. He'd give you the entire world if he could.

"You better," you muttered as he lifted you up to his lips, feeling them fall onto yours as they moved in tangent, almost as if they were meant to be there, and despite being in a spiderman suit, covered in crumbs and pizza sauce, hours late to your party, in a sense, you couldn't have asked for anything else as a gift.

#peter x reader #peter x reader fluff #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter angst #peter x you #peter fluff #peter x you angst #peter x you fluff #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker x you angst

[littlemisslipbalm]

Little Border Town

Summary: It begins with a man and a woman, as it always seems to. One lives in France and the other lives in Italy, technically, but they’re also neighbors. Various issues arise between these two and they can’t ever seem to see eye to eye on anything. Will they ever move past their petty fighting or is the little town they live in doomed to only gossip about what Harry and Y/N are fighting about today?

AKA: Harry and Y/N are neighbors that fight all the time, the whole town wants to know when they’ll just fuck. 

Featuring italrry as well as mustachrry! and running italrry... I hope y’all like! this is just part one, so much more is in store so pls let me know what you think :) lots of love - first fic that’s not named from a quote said in the story I’m shook!! the growth, the range...she has it apparently! side note: i had to change the gif from italrry/mustachrry bc something is whack with the formatting and either the keep reading or the title keeps disappearing so i tried some stuff to resolve it *sobbing*

Word Count: 8.5k | Warnings: swearing, mentions of relatives death, bickering, otherwise tame for now?

Pt. 2

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There’s a little town that straddles the border between Italy and France. It’s just a little ways from Nice on the French side and Ventimiglia on the Italian side. The population is rather small and the tourists who come are usually either returners or are very very lost. One street you’re in France and the next you’re in Italy. It can be confusing to newcomers, but the locals love it -- for the most part. These streets are easily delineating as French or Italian by the little country flags that hang above all the shops or in the windows.

It’s a coastal town with cobblestone everywhere and bright painted buildings. The water is a soft blue and the wind barely ever brings any waves greater than a foot high. There’s a shop for everything and it seems to be frozen in the past from the outside, thankfully if you step into the tiny bed and breakfast there is wifi. The sun almost always shines down on this sweet piece of paradise, the winter does however bring gusting winds and thunderstorms. Those storms rattle the little town and afterwards you’ll find the residents picking up the pieces that have fallen off the shops.

Now, this little border town, with its streets separated by French and Italian customs, well almost all of them, it seems imperative to mention. There, in the exact middle of the little town, is one street that is split down the middle, half in France and half in Italy. The locals from the French and the Italian sides love that street the most because it has this certain dynamic spark of change that brings them together, makes them unique. Except for two locals that seemingly hate this street. These two locals aren’t actually true locals either. They both moved there a couple years ago.

Harry, from the Italian side, owns the shoemaker and repair shop. He hailed from England and moved to the little town when his great uncle, Joe, had sent him a letter pleading for him to take over his shop so that he could retire. Harry, ever the traveler, hopped on the next flight out to Italy and then traversed by train and bus until he reached his Joe’s home. Like most of the shops, there was a living space above the shop area. Harry lived there with Joe until he passed away a few years back leaving Harry to tend the store alone. He didn’t mind too much, being left there alone. He had always loved Italy and to get to live in the countryside in a little cobblestone town and own a shop was a dream come true. After living there for two years, he had bought a sailboat that he would take out when the shop was closed. He also had bought himself a motorcycle that he would ride to the next greatest city if he was ever in dire need of more of a nightlife as a 26 year old. He loved it, his own slice of paradise… except for his thorn in his side.

Y/N, from the French side, owns the bookstore, which carries lots of vintage books and records. She had moved there after college. In school, she had studied French and taken a year abroad in Paris and had traveled down to Nice for a month. While in Nice she had made a few friends and one of them had come from the little border town. They had insisted they all go there for a weekend. When Y/N stepped foot onto the street she now lived on a few years before, she fell in love. Seeing the little Italian and French flags in the windows and potted plants with a view of the sea had been so endearing to her.

She was drawn to the bookshop and had chatted up the old French woman who ran it. The woman had reminded Y/N of someone but she couldn’t quite place her finger on it. It was strange for her because she often found these connections with older people, she felt like she had known this woman her whole life. Y/N went back into the store the next two days she was there to talk to the woman again, Marie, she had learned. Before she left the little town she left her number with Marie and kept in some contact with her. After about a year though, their communication fell off. Y/N was sad but understood that life can be busy for people and that she obviously wasn’t the most important woman in the little border town bookkeeper’s life. Or so she thought. In the middle of the summer after she graduated college, Y/N was backpacking through Iceland and got a call from who she assumed was Marie. She was ecstatic and answered the call immediately. Sadly, it wasn’t Marie, instead a friend who had been given her will to execute. In her will she had left Y/N the bookshop. Her reasoning was similar to why Y/N had liked Marie so much, she said that Y/N had reminded her of her sister who had died unexpectedly in her teenage years. Being so far from home at the time and completely consumed with love and loss, Y/N had agreed to take over the shop without any hesitation.

She got home and informed her parents of her choice and moved to the little border town as soon as she could. She lived in the little area above the shop that Marie had also gifted to her and she tended the shop downstairs. The living area hadn’t really been cleaned out and Y/N had found an old collection of vinyls in the corner of the bedroom. As much as she wanted to keep them to herself, she thought it would be a good addition to the shop and had made a section for records in memory of Marie. She loved France and the coast, she bought a little car and would drive to Nice every so often or to the more sandy beaches along the French coast. It was quiet and different from the life she had maybe expected, but taking over a bookshop because a kind stranger had gifted it to you as one of their dying wishes wasn’t something Y/N could ever turn down. Her soul was too sweet. At least it was for most people, not for her neighbor though.

Her neighbor was the shoemaker, Harry. Their shops lived against one another even though he was on the Italian side and she was on the French. They were located exactly at the split between France and Italy. With less than a foot between the buildings, they saw a lot of each other. On their first interaction, Y/N had seen too much of her neighbor, meaning she had seen all of him. Their shops were similar to track homes, meaning they were built completely the same only mirrored. This meant that the windows of their bedrooms matched up exactly, she wondered who had thought that was a good idea after her first night. When Y/N had first moved in it was August, she left her window open and without the shade down to let as much fresh cool air in as possible. With her jet lag, she had found herself wide awake at about three am. Pacing around her room in the pink silk tank dress she had decided to sleep in, her eyes froze on her window - or rather, who she saw through her window. The light from her room and the moon were strong enough to illuminate the tanned and tattooed skin of the naked man in the room next to her. He held a bowl in his large hands that he seemed to be spooning cereal into his mouth from.

His half-lidded eyes flickered to the light coming from the place next door. The bookshop had been closed all summer and no one had been living in the upper area for a little longer than that so he had gotten into the habit of leaving his window open. He was half drunk after stumbling his way home from the tiny bar down the street. He had decided a naked cereal run would be a good idea to tide over his cravings. But upon seeing the girl wearing lingerie a mere two feet away from him, separated by the screens on their open windows, he realized that wasn’t actually true. His eyes widened only slightly as he saw her, his drunkenness allowing him to keep his blushing to a minimum. His drunken confidence kept him from covering himself as he lifted a single brow and made a salute with his spoon hand before going back to his bed.

She stayed at the window for a moment after the naked man disappeared and then quickly ran back to her bed. She shut off her light and tried not to think about everything she had seen. She tried to not think about his toned arms that flexed as he moved around his food, or the tattoos that lined every part of his body (the tiger and ferns seared into her mind specifically), or his tousled chestnut hair, or his searing green eyes, or the full mustache that held a little milk from his cereal. She tried, she really did. But how was she supposed to face her neighbor ever again after that. Maybe he wasn’t her neighbor, she reasoned, maybe he was an acquaintance her neighbor had just spent the night with. That wouldn’t be better! Her hands grabbed her other pillow and shoved it over her face trying to force herself to go to bed.

The next day, she had been working out front of the bookshop, beginning to repaint the windowsills of the shop with some navy paint she had found in the back to give it an updated look. It was early and she hadn’t expected to see anyone at all. Her jet lag still ailed her and caused her to be up bright and early. This was her second run in with the shoemaker, this time though, both to her dismay and joy, he was fully clothed. He wasn’t watching where he was going and almost toppled the both of them over as he left his store front, locked the door behind him, and then set off down the street. His large body, covered in short black running shorts and a mesh grey tank top, bumped into her almost immediately. He was still fiddling with his music on his phone as he began his run. She jumped back and dropped the paintbrush from her hand. She yelped as his body collided with hers and he stopped in his tracks. His eyes scanned her and took in the light wash cuffed jeans and moss ribbed tank top she was wearing. They widened when he recognized her face, the expression of shock similar to that of last night when she had seen him in his bedroom. He smirked and took out one of his earbuds. She grabbed her paintbrush from the ground as he extended his hand to her.

“I’m Harry,” his hand is greeted with hers. He speaks to her in English and she decides it’s probably best to follow along with whatever someone else began with. She worried that she’d run into a lot of Italians who didn’t know French or English and she’d have some trouble. His eyes flicker to the bits of blue already littered on her hands and in her hair.

“Y/N.” She nods, avoiding eye contact with the man she had already seen too much of. At least he’s not your neighbor’s lover, he’s just your neighbor. She also notices how he doesn’t apologize for running into her.

“You were spying on me last night,” his hand returns to his side and his smile quirks up again as he watches her face flush. His nicely groomed mustache twitches, trying to contain his laughter.

“I was not!” She finally looks up at the taller man and takes in his tanned face that is even more attractive in the morning light and up so close. The hat he wears is funny, a blue trucker’s hat that read “If you ain’t a fisherman, you ain’t shit!”, and she would laugh if she couldn’t already tell he was going to be extremely annoying.

His smirk continues and he barks out a laugh. He removes his sunglasses to really look at her now. “It’s alright, I work hard for this,” he gestures to his body, “glad someone appreciates it. Just means I’ll need to be installing a shade now, I guess.”

“You don’t have a shade and you walk around your room naked?” She ignores his first bit of conversation. She can’t think about his body or how it had looked last night. She sets down her paintbrush and folds her arms across her chest, trying to figure the man in front of her out.

“No… but it’s not all my fault. You had your shade open too! Who’s willingly up at that time of night anyway? I was just fixing myself a snack after the pub.” He raises his brows triumphantly at her, feeling confident that he has gotten the upperhand in the conversation.

She narrows her eyes at him as she finally registers that his accent isn’t Italian or French. He’s British and she wonders what he’s done to get himself in this little border town. He also seems to own the shop beside her since he locked the door behind him. He was peculiar, but she couldn’t dwell on what she thought about him since he had just accused her of being a peeping tom.

“Someone is up at that hour because she just moved and has terrible jet lag and can’t sleep. The place has been completely closed up for months and I needed to get as much cool air in as possible before the hot day. That’s why I was up and that’s why my shade wasn’t down.” She stands up straighter and rolls her eyes at him, muttering something in French to herself about annoying men. She smiles to herself when Harry doesn’t seem to understand. He obviously can tell she said something, but he doesn’t know exactly what. He could understand a good bit of French and he could speak some, but if someone spoke quickly and quietly, like she had just done, he wouldn’t be able to make it out. He figured it was something rude, though, with the way she sounds and begins to turn from him.

“Are you here to stay?”

“Yes.”

“Well, welcome to the best place in the world. It was so nice, two countries couldn’t decide who got to keep it and decided to split it.”

His arm sweeps out around him, gesturing to the street around him. She smiles up at him before following his arms movement. His arm had more tattoos than she had realized from her eyeful last night. She noticed the intricacies of all the black ink and again she had a million questions that she had to keep to herself. He was arrogant, conceited, impatient and a little bit odd and she knew all of this after barely one conversation. At least they could agree on one thing, they loved this town.

He looked back at her after scanning the street and saw her smiling in wonderment at everything around her. This brought a fleeting genuine smile to his face, knowing she was happy to be there. He had known Marie and was sad to see her go less than a year after his great uncle. He had always thought that Marie and Joe were both secretly pining over each other. Constantly stopping into each other’s shops and waving from their windows at each other, but Joe had always shaken his head at Harry when he mentioned it.

His smile faded when her eyes came back to his fac face face. Her smile disappeared as well. “Right, so, see you around…?” He said, already forgetting her name. She scoffs when she realizes what happened and then repeats her name. He nods curtly before replacing his sunglasses and single airpod and starts running again. She calls after him, “Thanks for the apology!” and then mutters to herself, “le con” knowing she shouldn’t shout that down the street where other people speak French. He doesn’t hear any part of it, his music up high enough to drown out the sounds of the world.

-

Y/N settled into the bookshop fairly easily, but she never failed to mention how unhelpful Harry had been:

“Yes, well, it’s been going pretty good...except for this one man. Well, I’d hardly call him a man -  a boy. My neighbor, actually, he owns the shoe shop...no, nevermind that, he practically made it his mission to make my move the hardest thing in the world...Harry -- yes, that’s his name, Mama… well I don’t know, It’s just Harry. - it doesn’t matter! He’s been in my way at every turn… yes, both physically and metaphorically...I’m not kidding! And I’m not being dramatic… Well, It was nice talking to you. Love you, talk soon.”

That was her first telephone conversation with her mother since arriving in the little town. Maybe ten days after she arrived. Naturally, she had it in the downstairs area of her home, the bookstore. And naturally, Harry had wandered in, to discuss one of their shared planters, and overheard her entire side of the conversation and gathered the rest from his own imagination. When she had laid eyes on him after setting down her phone, she rolled her eyes at the smirking Chesire cat look on his face.

“You would be the kind of man to eavesdrop, hm?” She restacked a group of books that were already in order.

“Thought I was a boy?” his smirk remained on his face. He strided closer to the counter she stood behind.

“Like I said...What can I help you with?” Her voice drips with venom as she finally turns her eyes to look at Harry. His smirk still remains on his face now that she is making eye contact with him. He’s clad in a t-shirt that has some baseball team on it with burgundy corduroy flared jeans. She notices the strain of the shirt over his chest and biceps and avoids the scoff of how vain he must be to keep himself in that good of shape for tending a shoe store in the South of France, or rather Northern Italy…

“Right, Thought I’d pop in and tell you that one of our planters is shared. So you’ll have to talk to me before replanting anything. I noticed you coming in with tulips the other day.”

“The ones on the front of the street?” He nods as her head turns to glance out the front window. “Why the hell do we share a planter?”

“Because, my late great Uncle Joe and Marie fancied each other.” Her eyes went wide at his words, trying to think of Marie having a crush on someone. “They were never together, never admitted the fancying, but they always did the planters together. They each had one of their own and then bought the third together, said it made sense to make the shops look nice...I know it was just so they had more to tend to - together.”

She hums, taking in everything that he said and how his eyes shine slightly just at the mention of his uncle. His voice had perked at the story he had just spun for her and she smiles thinking about the idea of love and loving someone so much that you’re content with simply planting flowers together. It seemed really old-fashioned to her, but it also brought even more charm to the town she now called home. Romance was still alive here, or so she hoped.

“Okay, I’ll make sure to let you know when I’ve decided what flowers I want to put in there.” She turns around, assuming the end of the conversation and getting back to work. She doesn’t really find a reason to entertain Harry anymore than necessary. Like she told her mother, he was constantly in her way or being naked in his room, something she had chosen to leave out of her conversation with her mom.

“You’ve misunderstood me. Maybe my English is getting rusty, I rarely speak it since everyone else knows Italian.” She flips around at his rude comment, eyes alight with fire once again. “If you want to replant anything, which I don’t understand why you would, the flowers I put are wonderful, we’ll have to discuss it. It’s not you just telling me you’ll be doing it. We own it equally and I won’t let you bulldoze my hard work.”

“On a planter?!”

She sticks on a sickly sweet smile as she tries to refrain from laughing. “I guess the countryside really can make some people enjoy the simpler things in life…” With that she walks to the back of the shop, leaving the stunned Harry to see himself out of it. When the little bell rings, her stifled laughter can be heard among the books.

-

It doesn’t matter what it is, Harry and Y/N are able to make a fuss about anything and the whole street, if not the whole town, had quickly figured that out. No one had a problem with Y/N, they welcomed her with open arms. Marie had told the entire French side and a good amount of the Italian side how wonderful and tenacious she was. How Y/N reminded Marie of her sister and upon meeting her, many agreed. But the first time Harry and Y/N had a public row, at the bakery in the center of town, on the French side, everyone was quick to realize that there was bound to be trouble between the two. It was a stark contrast to the loving comments and endearing looks the previous owners had always engaged in when they were still alive. This fight was maybe a few days after the planter business and Y/N had tried in the following days to get him to change the planters to no avail so she was in an especially pissed off mood towards Harry.

“Could you be taking any longer?” Y/N rolled her eyes as she stood behind her tall neighbor, her foot impatiently tapping a beat against the stone floor.

Harry stood hunched in front of the display case, scanning for exactly what he wanted and desperately trying to remember what he had come here for. He was a bit more dressed up that day, his mother had been coming to visit him for the first time in a while and he wanted to look nice and have a special treat for her when she arrived. His trousers were a deep navy that matched the navy of the stripes on his sweater vest, the blue pinstripes of the button down underneath was a slightly lighter shade, but blue nonetheless. He had rolled up his sleeves past his elbows, showing off his various tattoos and sinewy arms. As his eyes scanned over the case again, he ran through his mental list and bit at his lip, knowing he was forgetting something. He barely even heard her drawl out her insult, the tapping of her foot eventually getting his attention due to its faltering.

She straightened upright from her hip jutted position when he didn’t even bite at her unkind words. Her foot stopping its melody. As she was about to give another go, Harry turned around and she gave him her full look of displeasure.

“Country life requires a bit of patience. I doubt you’ve ever had to wait your turn in your life, but you’ll have to get used to it here.”

Her eyes roll instinctively. She noticed that they seemed to do it just at the mention of his name or the sound of his voice. She had always thought herself a lover of the British accent, citing Downton Abbey and various famous musicians - Freddie Mercury, George Harrison, Elton John, etc. - as members of that little island who were formative to her identity, loving them for their talents as well as their accent. Yet with Harry’s deep meandering British voice, she found herself wishing to be anywhere but in its presence. She found that he took so long to ever get out an actual full thought and when he did it was barely coherent. He also never failed to let his sarcasm or smugness drip into his tone, causing her to audibly be aware of the smirk on his face even if she couldn’t see it. The image flashing across her mind no matter what.

“You’ll have to let me know when you’ll be here again…” His eyebrows quirk at her odd response and it’s her turn to smirk up at him. She’s already satisfied with her quip even though she’s only gotten half of it out. His mouth opens to question her, but she finishes her thought. “That is, so I can plan around you. If I have to alot a whole day to the boulangerie just waiting for you… I’ll never get settled.”  

Harry scoffs and a fleeting expression of actual offense flashes across his features before turning around to finish his order. The others in line and the worker are all equally wide eyed and she hears some hushed whispering behind her, but it’s in Italian so she can’t make it out. The worker eyes Y/N as she rings up the rest of Harry’s chosen items. The worker smiles softly at Harry, feeling for the man she had known long enough to know that he wasn’t as rude as he was being with Y/N. She was also taken aback at Y/N’s response, but hadn’t seen her be rude otherwise so she had to assume it simply had something to do with the man.

When Harry is all set, he turns to leave and pass Y/N again. His eyes narrow and his words once again are turned nasty. “I wouldn’t mind if you never got settled,” he said before muttering something in Italian under his breath and leaving the store. She assumed it to be nasty as she eyed the couple behind her giggling, before walking to talk with the worker.

She shook her head trying to rid herself of her cold exterior that she kept having to conjure up for Harry. Now smiling, she asks for her items in French, happy to be speaking the language that brought her so much joy rather than English which seemed to be reserved only for Harry now. She hadn’t gone to the Italian side very much yet and the people she had met over there so far had spoken French to her once she had introduced herself.

As the worker finished with Y/N’s order, she asked in a hushed tone, in French, “How do you know Mr. Styles?”

“Harry?” Y/N guessed, not actually knowing Harry’s last name until now. The girl behind the counter smiles quickly before nodding. “Mon voison” she sighs and contains the accompanying eye roll when she sees the girl blush at the idea of being neighbors with Harry. “He’s a brat,” she continues and the girl laughs lightly before saying, “I think he’s rather sweet… not bad to look at either.” She looks out the window of the shop wistfully, like Harry’s still there and Y/N whips her head around, afraid he knew that she was talking about him. Thankfully, he was gone and Y/N laughs to herself when she feels the anxiety that had gripped her for a moment dissipates. Shaking her head at the girl, she grabs her items and change from her before making a break for the door.

It was soon after that incident that Harry and Y/N’s squabbles became notorious throughout the little town. Drama wasn’t common there and any sort of excitement was the talk of the town. It made sense that this was snapped up by the gossipers from the French and Italian sides alike.

Anne, Harry’s mother, was stopped the next day, when she was out for coffee and Harry was still at the shop, and was asked why her son was so angry at the new bookshop owner. She thought it made sense for her to drop into the bookshop next to her son’s shop after hearing that. Walking into the shop, she was greeted with the smell of lavender and the sweet melody of a love song. She immediately smiled at the charm of the bookstore, feeling like there was a bit more life in it then there had been the last time she had come in. Harry had told her that Marie had passed, but not that someone new had taken over and she was eager to meet them, especially now that she had been told about the town gossip.

A messy haired, but bright eyed Y/N came trotting out of the bookshelves at the sound of the door opening. A smile beamed on her face when she saw the mature brunette woman standing just inside the doorway. “Bonjour! Bienvenue!” She greets as she smooths some of her unkempt hair. Y/N had been digging around the back shelves of the store searching for a specific book one of her other customers had asked about yesterday. And much to her dismay, she wasn’t being very successful. When the woman only says “Bonjour” and makes no inclination that she plans to speak more French, Y/N believes it’s safe to assume she’s a tourist and switches to English. “Can I help you?”

Anne laughs happily to hear English and walks over to the counter that Y/N had walked behind. “Yes, Hi! My son lives here and I’ve just come to visit him. He didn’t tell me someone had taken over Marie’s shop.” Y/N perks at the name of Marie and she smiles sincerely at the woman now. Not quite a tourist, yet not quite a local, she noted for herself.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N. I was a friend of Marie’s, so to say, and she left me the place.” Pausing, Y/N turns over the vinyl that had just finished side A, and then returns to her place at the counter. “I’m still really new, but it’s a small town. I don’t know of many other people who weren’t born here who live here, though, who’s your son?” She rests her elbows on the counter and leans on them while staring at the kind woman. She had noticed the British accent, but hadn’t connected the dots yet. It wasn’t uncommon for people to have a British accent when they spoke English so it didn’t necessarily mean she was from England. But maybe Y/N should have noticed the light eyes and brown hair, maybe that should have been an indicator as well. Or the way she had said ‘my son’ and nodded in the way of the shoe shop. But no matter what, it came as a shock when the woman with the coffee in hand said what she said next.

“My son is your neighbor! He runs the shoe repair shop. His great uncle, my ex-husband’s uncle, left it to him a couple years ago.”  Y/N’s eyes widen so much so that she has to blink a few times to assure herself they haven’t popped out of her head.

“Harry...is your son?” She speaks slowly and Anne smiles at the girl. She nods and Y/N nods back, taking the news in. He has a mother...she guessed she should have expected that. It had been unlikely that her theory of him being sent straight from hell to make her life just like it was accurate.

“Here you are mum! What are you doin’ in here?” Harry rushes through the door when he sees his mother inside from the window. Y/N rolls her eyes on cue, but still notices the soft adoring look on his face while he gazes at his mother. She supposes she can concede that he isn’t the spawn of satan now. His look hardens when he turns to Y/N, who has straightened up to her full height upon his arrival.

“I was just meeting the new bookshop owner, Y/N!” She looks between Harry and Y/N. “What’s this about you being angry with her?” She asks more to Harry, but Y/N hears easily. Harry’s eyes flash at Y/N and her eyes widen once again, but shrugs to Harry, having no idea where his mother had gotten that idea.

“What did you say-”

“I didn’t say anything! I’d just realized she was your mother right before you walked in!”

“It’s true. Someone said something about it to me at the coffee shop. Of course, I didn’t even know the book shop even had a new owner, so I decided to come by.”

“It’s nothing, mum,” Harry insists.

“Harry and I...we just don’t exactly see eye to eye. But, I’m sure we’ll warm up to each other eventually,” she easily lies through her teeth, knowing she really couldn’t see herself ever being friends with this prick. “Feel free to look around the shop, it’s not exactly to my liking yet, but then again, I am just getting settled. Otherwise, you two should enjoy your time together. I’m sure it’s not often you can make the time to journey all the way out here.” She smiles sweetly at Anne, choosing to ignore Harry completely.

“Thank you, Y/N. Harry can be an acquired taste for some, but just below that exterior of his, he’s a giant softy.” Harry groans at his words, Y/N’s smile only grew.

“Au revoir! Good Day!” She calls when they leave the shop rather swiftly. It seemed to her that Harry was desperate to get his mother out of the shop as soon as possible, while Anne was happy to browse and look at what had been changed in the shop.  

-

Their early unhappy encounters were now months ago. But encounters of a similar caliber happened at least once a week. It’s hard to avoid a neighbor who you seem to find anything they do to be an annoyance, even their existence. They saw each other around town and at their shops and in their bedrooms. Even though they didn’t particularly like each other, hated was actually the correct word, the drawing of the shades was a near impossible task with the heat that plagued the little town between August and Mid-October.

They had fought over who could leave their shade open and who couldn’t because Harry believed only one of them had to close it to maintain privacy but then he wouldn’t settle on an agreement on taking turns closing shades. Y/N argued that they could both leave them open if he would agree to stop walking around his room naked all the time, but he refused that as well, at first. He conceded after a week of having his shade drawn that he would wear boxers. Therefore, practically every night, Y/N and Harry would see each other before bed since they actually seemed to have the same sleep habits. Sometimes she would have to yell at him to close his window if he came home with a guest and he would yell at her to turn off her light if she was reading or watching television in bed too late.

Thankfully, it was approaching the end of October and the weather would begin to change. There wouldn’t be a reason to have the window or shade open and they at least wouldn’t have to see each other right before bed.

This morning, Y/N is up early, she found it amazing to wake up early here, something she had never done before this little border town. It was teaching her new things about herself and changing her, but she liked it. In deep forest green flared pants and a long sleeved rainbow striped shirt, Y/N is watering the planters in front of her shop as well as the little ones attached below the windows. It was always a little cool in the mornings, but she had checked her weather app and seen that it was actually going to be the first cold day of the season. The first cold day since she had arrived actually. As much as she liked the sun, she also loved fall and winter, so she was excited to experience them for the first time in the little border town.

She smiles to herself as she moves around gracefully. In her back pocket, her music plays softly, Paul Simon sings lovingly to her. She hums along and moves to deal with the planter at the edge of the sidewalk. But she’s foiled by a man she seems to think about far too much for how much she says she dislikes him. Harry jogs back a half step upon realizing he has run into her yet again. One would assume that one of them would either change their routine or know to step out of the way or really just be a little bit more aware of their surroundings with how many times this has happened since Y/N’s arrival. Of course, their stubborn personalities actually require them to be unrelenting in this area of their lives as well. Much like the shade debate, the who was in the way of who debate is still majorly undecided.

“Oi!” He looks down at his shirt and it has a substantial wet spot on it. She had spilled some of the watering can’s contents.

“Excuse you!” She says simultaneously, not realizing she’d gotten water on him.

“I’m not the one who just threw water on someone.”

“Neither am I. You ran into me, it’s not my fault you never look where you’re going.”

“You’re just always in my way. This has been my route for ages, I’m not going to change it just because you moved in next door.” His hands fly around in annoyance and anger.

“You’re unbelievable!”

“Well! I can’t stand you!

“Clearly!” “Cleary.” They’re both huffing out insults that don’t seem to really be going anywhere. Harry has straightened his posture for once and she actually finds his true height slightly intimidating. They both breath for a moment, finding no other words to fill the tranquil morning silence that they had just disturbed.

“Are we ever going to have a conversation where we’re not at each other’s throats?” She sighs, feeling upset that the nice Fall day was suddenly ruined for the rest of time just because of this.The bickering with Harry was tedious and she couldn’t keep going like this. Being in a completely new place and running a small business was hard enough as it is. Something snapped in her just then, hoping to squash a part of her life that is causing her stress and exhaustion.

Harry’s expression falters, his eyes losing that glint of angered passion for a moment, he wasn’t expecting that response. It wasn’t necessarily mean, it was more like she was resigned. Simply done with the conversation. He felt his anger and annoyance slip away rather quickly at her question. She sees his mustache twitch, which she realized happened when he was either amused or confused. She didn’t think what she said was funny so she presumed he wasn’t sure what to make of what she had just said. Her head tilts to the side and waits for his response. Her watering can falls to her side now, making herself a little more comfortable and leaving only a small amount of air between her and Harry.

“Tired out already? Thought you were more of a competitor than that.” He mirrors her by tilting his head as well.

“I didn’t realize we were in any sort of competition.” She stepped forward and straightened her posture a little, feeling challenged by the tone he had taken. She may have a kind and soft exterior for most, but she was nothing if not fierce in her core. She was an Aries afterall. She wondered what Harry might be, she wasn’t super into astrology, but she was sure that he wasn’t an Aries. Aries were fiery and passionate and were very unwilling to admit defeat, so he had just hit the exact right note to keep her from squashing their now long-standing quarrel.

“We’re not. I just thought I had met my match, guess I was wrong.”

He looks off in the distance to be nonchalant, like he wasn’t trying to bait her even if that’s exactly what he was going for. Sure, he found her annoying, for whatever reason. But he had realized when she had posed the question, that he hadn’t had this much excitement in a while. Nothing and no one really challenged him in the little border town, his work was easy enough, money wasn’t tight, friends were easily made, and partners for the night were easy to find. He didn’t dislike any of those facts, truly, he counted himself lucky and was overjoyed that he lived there. But the verbal sparring he engaged in with Y/N fulfilled a need he hadn’t realized was going unsatisfied. He would never admit it, but she was often a highlight of his day. Getting into a little quarrel with her brought a smile to his face when he recalled it later. The bird she had started to flip him before bed made him genuinely laugh. He liked it, so when she seemed to want it to end, he did what he knew would make her change her mind. Tease her.

“I see...bonne journée, cul.” She decided to bid him farewell, knowing he didn’t plan on apologizing any time soon. She turned her body from him and Harry understood enough French that she had ended the conversation with a “good day”. He also knew that she had called him an “ass” as well. His brows raised for a moment at the insult before giving a flicked salute in her direction and jogging off for his morning run.

For some reason, after a moment of knowing Harry had gone she glanced up in his direction and watched his retreating figure. And for some reason she found herself looking back down at the flowers and smiling to herself. Somewhere inside her she was glad Harry hadn’t given into her veiled request to stop fighting. It was a strange sensation because as tiring it was to bicker with him, she feared if they stopped then they would stop talking at all and her heart panged at the thought. She didn’t know why and she didn’t care to know why either.

-

The bell of the book shop chimes and Y/N pops up from behind the counter. She had been crouched out of sight trying to organize the books of notes on customers Marie had left that Y/N had only just found. She hadn’t realized the cabinet existed in the counter so when she accidentally slid it open she was a little taken aback. Still, she was quickly distracted by the new customer. Her cream collared shirt was unbuttoned to where her collarbone and decalotage were on display, some gold medallions hanging around her neck today. Her worn light wash blue jeans were barely visible behind the counter due to her height. In her hair was a classic red bandana, pulling back her hair out of her face save for the strands that worked themselves free on their own accord.

Her smile was wide, happy to see the first customer of the day as she pinched at her shirt to make sure it was in place. Her posture slumped immediately when she realized that her first customer wasn’t a likely customer at all, instead who else but Harry. A mischievous glint in his eyes as he strolled in and right up to the counter. He leaned his large body down to rest his head in his hands and look up at her. He crossed one ankle over his other, getting comfortable as he stared wickedly up at her.

She wet her lips and took a step back. It was her first look at him today, apparently missing him on his morning run. Maybe she should have thought something of that after their encounter yesterday, but she didn’t. Like most days, his trousers were high waisted, Gucci likely - how he afforded them, she had no clue - and his usual shirt had now been accompanied with a striped red, black, and yellow open cardigan. His hair looked wet like he had just taken a shower, most of it was pushed up but a few strands fell over his large forehead. His mustache looked freshly trimmed and the rest of his facial hair had yet to leave any shadow after his obvious shave.

“Harry.” She says definitively, regarding him with even contempt.

“Ice Queen.” He levels, eyes narrowing.

She scoffs immediately. “At least give me something original...or accurate maybe. I may not like you, but ice queen? Hardly.”

He genuinely chuckles at her quick response and nods, agreeing easily with her for once. “You’re right. It was weak, I’ll admit. Feel like you need a nickname though, thought something really rude might upset you.” He smirks cheekily. His agreement doesn’t make her feel like she’s won at all, unsurprisingly.

She rolls her eyes at his comment. “Care to let me know why you’re gracing me with your presence today, Mr. Styles?” Moving around the counter, she begins to walk to the back of the shop, assuming Harry would follow her if he needed to. He apparently did and walked after her after realizing she wasn’t coming back.

He gives a half-laugh, “Yeah, I came in for a new record. I saw you decided to restock them...thought I’d pop in. It’s easier to get them here than order online...Curtain-hater.” He adds the name as an afterthought.

She glances at him from the bookcase she’s standing at, her eyes shifting to meet his. A smile fades into her features as she can’t contain the giggle at his new attempt at a nickname. She then wrinkles her nose, “That isn’t good either, but proficient try, I guess.” She gives him points for actually relating the name to her in some way, but it still doesn’t incite any anger in her which she knows is what he is going for. She probably should question herself why she’s helping Harry to nickname her something rude, but alas, she doesn’t. He nods solemnly, knowing she’s right again. He needs to find a nickname for her and he doesn’t know why, but he’s glad she seems alright with him giving her one, so long as it is fitting.

Her body shifts from the bookcase over to the boxes she had gotten to hold the vinyls. She had a small collection since the place was small overall, but Marie’s old collection had sold successfully so she had restocked afterwards, this time choosing some of her personal favorites.

“I’m not sure of your taste...I know you bought Marie’s Ella Fitzgerald album last time.” She sifts through the records, trying to find something she thought he might want. Like she said, she didn’t know what he liked, but she prided herself on knowing music and as an owner helping a customer, she wanted to please Harry. She knew he liked Ella from his previous purchase and she knew he liked Marvin Gaye in the evenings when he had guests - how very cliche she would add. “I mostly got in 70’s/80’s rock...Elton, Queen -”

“Got any Paul Simon?” Harry cuts her off and she looks at him surprised. Her fingers stopped when she looked up at him, their tips placed on the peaks of the albums covers. “Thought I heard it here the other day?”  

Her face perks up at the mention, she loved Paul Simon. “That was on my phone, but I do actually. Well, it’s Simon & Garkunkel. I can order something from just Paul Simon whenever I have to order again if you want?” Their gazes are holding each other’s, her fingers still rubbing over the pointed edges of the two albums she had between her hands. Harry’s watching her and leaning against the table the boxes sit on.

He nods after a moment. “That’d be great.”

“You’ll have to tell me which records of his you already have so I can order something new for you.” She grabs the Simon & Garfunkel album and flips it to Harry so he can look it over.

He regards the Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme cover reading over the fine print with all the tracks listed on the bottom right. “Thanks,” he mutters out after another moment of silence. It was rarely this quiet between these two, so it was different. “I’ll take it, Shrimp.”

“Oh my god!” She gasps before bursting into a fit of laughter. He had actually made her laugh and his eyes widen at the sound, almost confused that she hadn’t scoffed. Her laughter was far louder now then the half-hearted chuckle she had given earlier, which really was probably just another scoff. This laugh was loud and unbridled, but melodic and fun. In the back of Harry’s mind, he noted that he liked it. The first bullet point on a list that was likely to grow.  “That works, just the perfect amount of rude. I love and hate it at the same time.” She finishes before walking back to the front. Harry saunters after her, pleased with himself.  

“I’d like to say I wasn’t looking for your approval, but I guess I sorta was,” he ponders out loud as she takes the record back from him to type in the correct spelling into her relatively new computerized system. She twists her mouth to the side of her face to refrain from smiling anymore and then hums. Her eyes flit back up to Harry’s triumphant smile and for once she doesn’t want to slap it off of him.

“People-pleaser…” She prods him easily. His smile falters only slightly, not out of unhappiness, but of borderline jealousy.

“How do you come up with that so easily? It just rolls off the tongue,” He asks seriously, confused by the woman before him. This time she laughs as she hands him back the record and a copy of his receipt.

“I’m well read, that usually helps, but maybe it’s just my intrinsic wit that gives me an edge,” she raises her brows slightly, before beginning to walk off now that their exchange is done. She’s surprised she doesn’t want to rip her hair out after that encounter, but she figures she should simply count her blessings. “Au revoir, trouser-boy!”

He rolls his eyes as he turns on his heel and exits the shop, amused rather than annoyed with the bookkeeper.

-

enjoy! lmk what you thought :) part 2

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #once the slow burn ends #harry styles angst #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #enemies to lovers!harry #enemies to lovers #slow burn #the france italy one is a fever dream au #little border town #not proofread at all

[marrys-dream-world]

if we’re bound to be something, why not together? (chapter 11)

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Notes:  Double update to cheer up a bit! This chapter turned out much longer than I thought it would be, almost double the size of other chapters. No content warning, just fluff! The song "Blueming" by IU, I think this fits this chapter a lot so if you want a song to listen while you read, it's that! Day 11: Voice Mail/Phone calls. @ladynoirjuly

After their last patrol, Ladybug sent Chat Noir a link through their communicators.

[Download this!!] She sent along with it, eagerly waiting for him. 

[As my lady commands : D] He sent back almost immediately. 

That talk had been a bit of an eye-opener to Marinette. She was getting to know Chat Noir more and more each day and she treasured every bit of information she got, jealousy holding it close to chest, hesitating to write it even in her diary. He was a quiet student during class, he had a friend whose name was definitely not Sallie (ugh), his father was distant, his mother and mother-figure were out of reach. He was lonely. All this information was worrying, just not as much as what she learned that night. At that moment, with him shaking in her arms, she made a decision.

Being there for him just as Ladybug wasn't going to cut it anymore. 

This idea wasn't anything new, she had been playing with it in her mind for a while now. So when she sent him a chat room code through her communicator with other instructions and detransformed, she was fairly confident it would work. Picking up her phone, she smiles as she saw that there was already a message.

CN

My lady!! <3 <3 <3

LB

down, Chaton. :)

CN

I'm just mdlaomqnahsbsk

Is it okay, though? Talking like this?

LB

yeah, i've been testing this app with RR and it's fine, there's no way we'll leak our numbers or anything like that to each other. don't worry ;)

CN

This app is to warn each other about attacks and schedule meetings? Are you going to add RR to the chat?

LB

nah, i'll just make one for the 3 of us. this is one for us to talk and stuff, doesn't need to be about job things.  

The "CN is typing…" kept it's place on the screen for enough time for her to start getting worried. 

CN

You don't need to force yourself for my sake, bug. I don't want to bother you. 

Marinette thought about making a joke. The situation, however, didn't seem right for it. 

LB

you never bother me.

His response came almost immediately.

CN

You never texted me before.

LB

guess i'll have to learn what's the maximum amount of cat memes a person can humanely send per day

CN

Is that a challenge, my lady?

LB

;) ;) ;)

just remember to not blow up my phone, we have class

CN

I'll use my powers for good, don't worry : D

Marinette smiled and put down her phone, fixing up her bag for the next day on the chance (certainty) that she would wake up late the next day. When she picked the phone up again, there was a single text:

LB

Thank you, bug. Good night. 

He was absolutely unstoppable after that. Next morning, as she was brushing her teeth, her cell phone pinged with the telling sound from the app and she smiled as she opened the app on her phone. 

CN

Look, look, we can change each other's names.

LB

good to know

You changed "CN" 's name to "Chat-terbox"

Chat-terbox

You know me so well. Soulmates.

Chat-terbox changed your name to "lady of my heart"

lady of my heart

yeah, i should have seen that coming, that's on me. 

oh yeah, gm

Chat-terbox

Good morning <3 <3 <3

Are you in class already?

Marinette froze in place, eyes snapping to the clock. There was only ten minutes before the class started. She bolted, barely noticing if she had on the right shoes or if her jacket matched her pants. So much for being an aspiring designer. Marinette blurred past the kitchen, taking a croissant and a banana and cramming them into her mouth as she ran. She made it to the classroom in the middle of the roll call, not even stopping by the lockers.

“Thanks for joining us, Marinette.” Ms. Bustier said dryly. “Please take a seat.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” She answered, out of breath. Sitting down, she took out her tablet and noticed another message making her phone screen glow. 

Chat-terbox

Is everything okay?

lady of my heart

i made it late in class but the teacher let me in hehehe

i think she's used to it *forehead sweatdrop emoji*

Chat-terbox

Hahaha a friend of mine just did the same thing, you two are twins 

lady of my heart

let me guess… Sallie *eyeroll emoji*

Chat-terbox

I mean, yeah, but why the eyeroll???

lady of my heart

you just talk too much about her, don't you think

Chat-terbox

You sound just like Plagg.

lady of my heart

maybe bc we're right

Chat-terbox

Why does that bother you? Jealous? *eyes emoji*

lady of my heart

as if *kicks u*

Chat-terbox

You kick your partner? You kick his body like the football? Oh! Oh! Jail for my lady! Jail for my lady for One Thousand Years!

lady of my heart

since my fate is already decided *kicks u again*

Chat-terbox

Nooooooooo

A giggle escaped her mouth.

"Marinette?" Ms. Bustier raised an eyebrow. "Something you want to share with the class?"

"N-no, ma'am." She answered, face heating up. Marinette quietly put her phone away, ignoring Alya's prying eyes. 

She only opened the app again during the break between classes, moving away from a curious Alya to hang by Kim and Alíx. 

Chat-terbox

I'll assume you're actually paying attention to class, which is great. You probably need it to make up all those crazy plans ;)

SM beaten by ninth grade physics 

Hey, boo, did you see this one SM identity theory video making rounds on the internet?

Marinette frowned.

lady of my heart

there's nothing new on the ladyblog

Chat-terbox

Oh, it's not on the Ladyblog, here 

She opened the video as quickly as she could before Ms. Bustier came back, only from the sound to make Kim and Alíx burst out into laughter.

lady of my heart

i opened it in my class I hate u so muuuuuch ughhhhhh

Chat-terbox 

C'mon, boo, it was funny

lady of my heart

>: (

Chat-terbox

: 3

This time, she willingly put her phone away. 

On the next break, she tried to ignore the pinging from her phone. However, curiosity killed the cat(‘s lady).

Chat-terbox

Please don't be mad, my lady, I have written you a lengthy apology to make up for sins

File attachment: apology letter for my beloved.doc

lady of my heart

if it's another rickroll i swear to god i'll END you

Chat-terbox

You can see it's not a video, it's safe to open

Scout's honor

lady of my heart

u were never a scout

Chat-terbox

I could be!!

Please read <3

Sighing deeply, she clicked on the document. He would never shut up if she didn't. It read as:

l would like to offer my sincerest According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible…

She clicked back

Chat-terbox

Did you like it? :3

lady of my heart

…

blocked

Chat-terbox

Boo, noooooooo

After that, Marinette didn’t open the app again no matter how much her phone pinged. She wasn’t mad, not really, just a bit annoyed. Before lunch ended, she would read and answer. But now, she was stuck watching Alya and Nino play Super Penguino and make moon eyes at each other. Adrien wasn’t allowed to join them, as much as he begged his father, and she was feeling pretty bummed about that. She poked around her chicken pasta when she heard her phone playing a familiar song.

kore nani kore nani korenanikorenanikorenanikorenani-

Chat Noir!

"Is everything okay?" Marinette asked as soon as she picked up the phone. Alya and Nino, noticing her worried tone, paused their game to look at her. 

"You picked up!" Chat Noir said, cheery. "I thought you blocked me."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Is there actually something wrong? I'll hang up "

"No, wait!" He yelped. "There's nothing wrong, I just wanted to talk. Are you busy?"

Marinette looked over at Nino and Alya, who were still watching her expectantly. She smiles reassuringly and waved them away, furtively signaling to Alya that it was Chat Noir on the phone. Her friend nodded and bumped her shoulder on Nino's. 

"C'mon, babe, let Marinette talk to her 'friend' by herself." Alya said, leering. 

"Why did you say it like that?" Nino asked, confused. Then, his eyes lit up. "Is it Adrien? Tell him I said hi!"

"No!" Marinette shouted, gaining weird stares from the other patrons.

"No, you aren't busy?" Chat Noir asked on the phone.

"No, it's not Adrien, or no, you won't tell him I said hi?" Nino asked. 

"It's another friend." She said hurriedly before focusing on the phone. "I can talk now, not that busy."

"If you're with your friends, it's okay." He said, rather meekly for her chaton.

"I'm just third-wheeling." Marinette said as Alya and Nino began another round of Super Penguins. "Why did you call? Aren't you having lunch now?"

Chat Noir chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, I'm having lunch at home and I'm all alone, so I thought I could give you a call. Is that too much?"

"No, it's fine." She reassured. "Why are you alone? What about your siblings?"

"What siblings?" He asked, genuinely confused. 

"Uh… the siblings I assumed you had for some reason." She said awkwardly, noticing how out there she sounded the more she spoke. 

"Really? You thought I had siblings? Why?"

"Because you're just like an annoying little brother." She said teasingly, a complete lie.

Chat Noir struck her as a mischievous, but supportive older brother. The kind that sneaked you treats after midnight and comforted you after failing a math test. Not like she could tell him that, though. If he was a little brother, it would be to a stressed older sister that he admired a lot and that found him reliable in return. She dreamed about meeting them sometimes and now it seemed that they would truly stay dreams forever. 

"I would like an older brother or sister." He sighed longingly. "The closest I have is my cousin, but he lives in another country."

"Oh, sorry."

"No, it's better this way, we would kill each other if we lived together. Everyday I would have to check for poison in my breakfast."

"A true sibling dynamic."

"Yep."

"Hey, why aren't you having lunch with your friends then?" With Sallie, she wanted to tease, but held back for fear of sounding, as Tikki said, bitter. 

"My father would rather I have lunch at home." He said vaguely. "My friends did invite me to go with them to a café, but my father didn't like the idea. He only likes one of them, the rest he says are bad influences."

"Let me guess, the one he likes is Sallie?"

"I can hear you rolling your eyes, but yes."

"Well, if you ever get lonely at lunch, you can call me." Marinette said honestly. "I don't mind it."

"Thank you." Chat Noir said softly.

They spent the rest of lunch talking on the phone, even sending pictures of their food to each other (Chat's limp salad made her take a bunch of mental notes to take him some pastries next patrol). On the way to school, as she walked to the classroom, they kept talking. She could hear Chat getting on a vehicle (a bus?) and when he got to school, she was disappointed he had to hang up. After Marinette clicked the end call button, the first thing she noticed when she looked up was Alya's smug face and Nino's confused one. 

"Wow, does my bro have some competition, dude?" Nino said. "You spent the entire break talking."

"What? No, that was just a friend!"

"Yeah, a friend." Alya sing-songed, making her face heat up.

"Yeah." Marinette said firmly. "There's no competition for anything."

"Who's competing?" A sweet voice asked from behind her and she jumped.

"Adrien!" She shouted, scrambling. "N-nothing hehe."

"Dude!" Nino smiled. "How was your lunch?"

Adrien smiled, brightly. "The best I've ever had."

Marinette felt inclined to agree. 

#ladynoirjuly #ladynoirjuly2021 #ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #ml fic #my stuff #miraculous ladybug #if we're bound to be something why not together

[fics-for-my-heart]

Broken  (b.h)

Summary: After a bad breakup you go to the only person you know can help

Word count: 2332 

Warning: The ex is a dick, some cussing, mention of getting sick

Requested: I love your blog so much omg! I’m not sure if requests are open but if they are may I please request something with Ben? Could you maybe do something where reader has just come out of a long term relationship bc the partner said they didn’t love her anymore? And she goes to best friends Bens house crying wth makeup all down her face and runny nose and it’s just the sweetest comfort he could ever give her? Maybe a sweet lil kiss if you could? I’m not having a great day as you can probs tell 😭❤️

A/N: I hate writing people who are dicks. Ugh. But I hope this is good. Honestly i was thinking of maybe making another part? Let me know please!

Masterlist

“Russ will be here any minute. What if he doesn’t like my dress?” Your eyes widened as you met the green ones watching you through your phone screen. 

“Y/N, you look beautiful. Take a deep breath. He’s going to love your dress.” Ben said, his reassurance calmed you down, like it always did. He’d been your best friend for ages, and was always your rock when your mind started getting too jumpy. 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, centering yourself. “Okay. I think I’m ready.” After looking over yourself you picked up your phone. “Thank you Benny. I hope you have a good night. I’ll text you when I get home.” 

“Have fun tonight, but not too much fun.” 

You laughed, shaking your head as you hung up. 

“Y/N! He’s here!” Cordelia, one of your roommates called. 

“Alright. Tonight is the night. It’s happening. Tonight.” You examined your left hand, the ring finger currently empty. But hopefully not for long if your suspensions are correct. All signs point to yes. He had lunch with his mother and grandmother a month back, and he’s been acting slightly nervous. After three years there’s really only one thing you can think of that could make him that way. 

With one more glance at the mirror you were out the door, nervous butterflies fluttering around your belly. 

Russ was leaning against the door with his phone in his hand as you came down. He looked handsome as always, his suit tailored to him, his white button down chrisp against the black of the jacket. His blond hair was quaffed just right while still looking slightly ragged. 

The butterflies intensified as you drank him in. Smiling about just how lucky you were. 

“Hi.” You whispered once you hit the bottom step. 

He hadn’t looked up until you spoke, his soft smile didn’t quite meet his eyes as he pecked your cheek. “Hello dear. Are you ready?” 

“Yes! I’m starving. I already checked online at their menu so it won’t take me long to make a decision.” 

He chuckled lightly as his hand met your back, leading you out to his car. 

Russ was quiet through most of the ride, which was weird because normally the two of you had a good flow. But he was probably nervous about what was about to happen. You sure were. And bless him he just let you talk and talk the entire way there, and part way through the meal. Reminiscing on some of your favorite memories together. 

“Do you remember that time we got snowed in at the cabin?” You sighed, remembering how nice it had been. Just the two of you for three days. “We should definitely do that again.” 

“I want to break up.” 

“We can go aft...wait.” Your heart stopped, but was also making your ears ring. You must have heard him wrong. “What?” The squeak was almost too soft to hear. 

Russ rubbed his brow with his thumb and forefinger, and gave a heavy sign. “I said I want to break up.” He wouldn’t look at you as your mouth gaped like a fish. 

The world got blurry as you silently started crying. “You. You’re not.” Your chest shuddered. “You’re not proposing?” Again, barely a whisper. 

A look that could only be described as disgust crossed his face, becoming stronger as he spoke. “Proposing? Why would you even think that?”

You started picking at a thread in the napkin on your lap. Still crying. Still hardly able to speak. “I told Cordelia you went to eat with your mom and grandmother and she said that you must be asking for your great grandmother's ring.” 

He sighed, again. “Oh my god.” You glanced up just as he was shaking his head. “No, Y/N. I’m not asking you to marry me. I,” again with the sighing, like he has better things he could be doing. “I met someone else, and I just don’t love you anymore.” 

You were going to puke. Yup, bile was definitely burning your throat just like the tears burning your eyes. “Som-someone e-else?” 

“Yes. That’s who I was with when I told you I was with mom and gran.” 

“That was.” You shook your head, a new emotion starting to build in your gut. “That was a month ag..how long?” You weren’t sure you even wanted to know. Dread. Sadness. Anger. To many emotions at once. Your hands were shaking as you looked at him. Waiting on his answer. 

Finally guilt flashed across his face. “Eight months ago.” 

Suddenly you were on your feet, chair knocked over and your voice the loudest it’s ever been. “EIGHT MONTHS? You’ve been cheating on me for eight months?” Your voice broke at the end with a full body sob. “Ei-eight fucking months? After almost four years!” Everyone was looking at you.

Again, Russ sighed, he really must have better things to be doing. Or a better someone. “Look Y/N. We had a great time together.” His voice was the low one now, trying to not be overheard. But everyone in the restaurant was quiet. Even the chef and line cooks had come out to watch. “I’m sorry. I just needed something new. We’ve got lots of good memories together, as you know since you talked about a lot of them tonight. But I just don’t want to be with you anymore.” 

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me sooner? Why fucking stay with me?” 

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at anyone else. The embarrassment only added to your nausea. 

Russ shrugged one shoulder. “Since I’m being honest, you’re really good at a..few things. And I wasn’t quite ready to give them up.” 

“You fucking dick! You piece of sh..” Your own body cut you off with a wretched sob that had firm, but soft hands wrapping around your arm. 

“Shh.” A gentle breath hit your ear as the hand turned to an arm, wrapping around you. “Come on dear, let’s get you out of here.” Russ moved to get up as you finally looked at the women at your side. Her hard stare was enough to send him back on his butt. “You better sit your ass down and don’t move.” She turned you, grabbing your bag on the way to the door. 

“Here hun.” Another soft voice said, as a phone was placed gently in your hand. “Enter your address, I’m paying for your Lyft home.” It was the hostess who had taken you to your table. Her face saying she heard everything. 

There was only one place you could think of to go, and it wasn’t home. With shaky hands you typed in the address, thanking the hostess. Then waited, still in the arms of the nice women who had come to your rescue.

“Thank you.” You whispered, eyes finally drying enough. 

She tisked. “No need dear. I couldn’t let him talk to you like that. Howard, my husband, is making sure he doesn’t come out here while you’re still here. I’m Wanda by the way.” She reached in her pocket, pulling out a business card. “My husband and I are realtors. If you need anything. This number is my cell.”

You nodded, spilling the card in your purse as a car pulled up. 

“Lyft for Y/N?” The female called through the window. 

“That’s me.” You turned to Wanda, “thank you again, really. I. I don’t know what could have happened if you hadn’t stepped in.” 

“I’ve got girls of my own and a son too. I couldn’t sit back and watch it go on. You go home and get some rest.” She opened the door and you climbed in, thankful for the quiet of the car. 

The ride wasn’t long, but it felt like forever. Your mind was reliving the past 30 minutes over and over. Your jaw was hurting from trying not to cry in a strangers car. It was taking everything in you not to lose it, but the moment Ben opened the door you collapsed. 

“Fuck.” He gasped, reaching for you before you were all the way down. “Y/N? Y/N what happened?” He was pulling you inside as you shook with sobs, clinging to him as if he might disappear. 

“Shit.” You heard him whisper as he wrapped an arm around you, using the other to lift you. “Y/N. Talk to me what’s going on?” 

You still couldn’t speak, just sobbed more and pressed your face into his shoulder as he carried you to the living room, keeping you in his lap as he sat. 

And he let you cry. Gently rocking side to side, a hand softly rubbing your back as the other kept you against him. His breath was warm as he shushed you. His lips occasionally pressing against the crown of your head. 

“Russ broke up with me.” You finally whispered against his chest, hiccups causing your body to jump. His entire body froze as you kept talking. “He’d...he was cheating on me. Has been for..for a while. Then, said the only reason he stayed with me was for the sex.” Another hiccup had you gasping for a moment. “Everyone in the restaurant heard him….I think I’m going to be sick.” 

You jumped out of his lap, running to the bathroom under the stairs and dry heaved. The tears started again, as nothing came up, but Ben’s general fingers were pulling your hair back just in time. 

“It’s okay. It’ll all be okay.” His voice was general as he stood there. Then once you were flopped on the floor, he handed you a glass of water. 

“Why me, what did I do? Why wasn’t I good enough?” You sniffed. How many tears could someone cry? “I’m sorry.” 

“No. There’s no need to be sorry. Here.” He extended his hand. “Let’s go upstairs and get you cleaned up.” 

The only sound in the house were your hiccups and both your feet walking up the steps. He led you to his bathroom, handing you a toothbrush. As you brushed your teeth he went back to his room, returning with one of his hoodies and shorts. 

Your face was a mess, and you almost started crying again looking at how different you looked now compared to just two or so hours earlier. Eyeliner and mascara streaked your face, eyeshadow was smeared everywhere, and your hair was all over the place. Not to mention how red and swollen your eyes were. 

“Up.” Ben said, patting the space beside the sink and pulling out some makeup wipes. “I want you to know something.” His voice was a whisper as he gently started removing your makeup. “You are so strong and amazing, Y/N. I know it hurts now, but I promise it’ll get better. And I’ll be here through it all with you.” He placed a soft kiss on your now clean forehead. “You are beautiful, and smart, and funny. Russ is a moron for what he did.” He finished with your eyes and pushed your chin up to look at him. “But that’s his fault. He’s the dumbass who fucked up. Not you. It’s not your fault. Okay?”

Tears were threatening to fall again as you pinched your lips and nodded. As you looked away you saw the mess on his shoulder from your makeup. “Oh. I’m s-“ 

He put a finger to your mouth. “It’s a shirt. It’ll wash out. Please, Y/N, stop apologizing.” 

The two of you were silent as he finished wiping your face. Then he gently brushed out your hair, braiding it behind you. 

He stepped away, letting you get off the sink. “Alright. You, bed. I’m going to go make you some tea.” 

You just nodded, exhaustion weighing every movement down as you buried yourself in his bed. 

Ben's bed was always one you preferred over your own. It was the perfect amount of softness and firmness. His duvet was light as a cloud but still warm. And his sheets always smelled like him. 

“Y/N?” 

You grunted in response, moving the blanket down. 

“Tea, love.” Carefully he joined you, passing you the tea once you were sitting up comfortably. “It’ll help with your stomach.” 

Ben turned the tv on to a movie you'd each seen a few times as you sipped the tea that was made just how you liked it.  

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” You whispered to your empty tea cup. There were so many thoughts swimming in your head, yet you felt empty. Drained physically and emotionally. 

Ben took the cup and sat it on the nightstand before gently placing both hands on your face. His green eyes unyielding at his seriousness. Yet his voice was just as gentle as it was all night. “Please stop apologizing. I’m serious. There is nothing you need to tell me sorry for.” His thumb swiped at a tear as you nodded. “Your feelings are valid. You have every right to be upset and to show how upset you are. And I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here through all the tears and for anything you need.” 

Your body relaxed, his hands the only thing holding you up. After another nod from you, he pressed his lips against your head, holding them there for a bit before pulling you to lay with him. 

The gentleness of his hand rubbing your back, and the rhythm of his heart beat relaxed you more. And you knew, even if it was just for tonight, that you were safe and that he was right, even if it’s not okay right now it will be. That was the last thought you had as you drifted off to sleep, thankful to forget the events of the day even if only for a few hours. Knowing Ben would be there when you woke up to keep you grounded. Just has he always had been. 

#ben hardy #ben hardy fic #bff ben

[gamerwoo]

Junhui: Oh, Positive (Part One)

Characters: Junhui x female reader

Genre/warnings: vampire/vampire hunter au, kinda angst but not really that angsty tbh, kinda crack thanks to flirty and sassy vampire!jun, lots n lots of cringey flirting

Word count: 2,163

Summary: As a vampire hunter, your job is pretty self-explanatory. But sometimes, the enemy has to become your ally, and that’s exactly what happens when you're ordered to track down Jun. To stop the coven of vampires that’re bringing up the death toll in Tokyo, you have to work with the thing you’re trained to kill -- assuming the two of you don’t kill each other in the process.

a/n: there will be more parts but i’m not sure how many which is why there isn’t a masterlist yet. this is just a lil idea i’ve had for a while sooooo it’s not really top priority so updates will probably be slow. but idk i wanted it out there (and yes i wrote this bc i love vampire!jun from that web series)

Next

“Don’t kill him, just capture him. Bring him back here when you do.”

Those stupid instructions kept repeating in your head. What was the point of capturing a vampire and not killing it? All vampires were bad. They killed humans. That’s why you existed. You were trained to kill them on sight, but now you were being told to show some sort of mercy. What sort of bullshit was that? 

But your boss gave you orders so you would follow them even if you didn’t agree with them.

It had taken a few days to figure out where to find this Jun. There were apparently a few places he hung around, so you were checking those places. It was well into 2am and most of the streets were empty. However, most vampires were known to linger in the alleyways of more crowded places, hoping to lure humans away to feed on them. So you stuck to the shadows, watching and listening carefully for any sign of--

‘Vampire.’

You froze as soon as you sensed it, knowing exactly where it was. You didn’t make it obvious you knew, but you stayed in your spot, slowly moving your head to seem like you were surveying the area. In reality, you knew it was perched on the fire escape above you, ready to pounce down on you.

But you were ready for that.

Just as it leaped down, you rolled out of the way, swiftly and smoothly pulling your knife out of its sheath. You were on your feet and running at the vampire quick enough to catch it off guard. Since you knew where it was, you had time to figure out your plan. So you tackled it to the ground, straddling it and holding your knife to its throat.

And lo and behold, it was just the vampire you were looking for. Jun looked up at you with a smirk, his eyes blood red as he eyed you up and down, licking his lips hungrily.

“Wasn’t expecting my dinner to be so quick on its feet,” he chuckled. “Shouldn’t have been so careless, I guess.”

“Shut up,” you stated boredly as you used your free hand to get the handcuffs from your belt.

“So what now?” he asked, ignoring your order. “Are you gonna kill me or whatever?”

“As much as I would like to,” you sighed as you began cuffing his hands together, “I have to take you somewhere.”

“Ooh, an adventure,” he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows as you managed to get off of him and tug him to his feet. “Just one question, sweetheart--”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Do you really expect some handcuffs to stop me?”

You rolled your eyes before looking at him, “Do you not know anything about vampire hunters?”

He shrugged, “Never been caught by one.”

“Well, those will keep you from running away. Now let’s go.”

You turned to walk away, but, of course, Jun had other ideas.

“Thanks but uh, I think going home with you after the first date is too early for me,” he said, miming tipping his hat to you. “Sorry, but this won’t work out. Please don’t contact me again. Bye!”

You knew vampires were quick. You knew Jun could easily get away and you wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to follow your instincts to find him again, but you knew he’d definitely be hiding pretty well for the rest of the night and probably for a few weeks at minimum. But you also knew how the handcuffs worked while Jun had no idea.

He was only a few feet from you when he shouted out in pain and had dropped to his knees. He was hissing as he stared at his wrists that had felt the painful shock, looking between them like he was trying to figure out a difficult math problem.

“Those’ll shock you if you’re a certain distance away from me,” you explained, “and it’s so painful that you can’t get away. So I suggest you keep up or you’re going to be in a lot of pain.”

“Look, I’m into pain, but this is too much,” Jun huffed with a small pout as you dragged him up off his knees and shoved him to walk in the direction you wanted him to. “Do I at least get a safe word?”

“Shut up,” you groaned.

“That’s a really shitty safe word.”

-

You wondered why you’d spent days trying to track down Jun when he was so obnoxious and annoying. The entire way back to headquarters was awful, containing him trying to flirt with you or make some sort of comment that walked the line between flirting and being a snarky asshole. Honestly, that seemed to be all he was capable of.

“I really wish I wasn’t told to not kill you,” you sighed halfway through.

“Well isn’t that unfortunate,” was all he replied to you with before he carried on with whatever he was saying before -- you weren’t paying attention, you’d learned very quickly to tune him out.

Once you were back at headquarters, you thought maybe Jun would shut up a little bit. You thought maybe being in a place full of top of the line vampire hunters would intimidate him into silence, but he seemed to not be fazed by anything at all. He had something to say to pretty much every person you walked past, and it got to a point where you were pretty positive every hunter in there wanted to kill him. The guy was just so annoying.

You finally reached the boss’s office. You knocked on the door three times as Jun leaned down and whispered, “Is this where I die? Because I’d like the heads up when it finally happens, y’know?”

You knew Jun definitely wouldn’t just take his death lying down. Hell, he probably had something up his sleeve to get out if he had to, he probably wanted to just see where this was going -- and you would be right about that because he figured he had nothing better to do. 

“I wish,” you mumbled as you heard your boss tell you to enter.

Opening the door and walking in, you went straight to the boss’s desk. Jun, however, decided to take his sweet ass time and look around the large room, his head tilting back as he looked all the way up at the ceiling and rolled his head around to look at the other side of the room. But being too far from you caused his cuffs to shock him, and he let out a surprised yelp.

“Are you kidding me?!” he demanded in annoyance.

You just silently snickered at him.

“I’m impressed you found him,” your boss, Jicheol noted as he stood up from his desk and observed Jun.

Hearing that familiar voice, Jun snapped his head down to look at the man behind the desk. His face spread into a smirk as he approached the desk, standing beside you.

“Ji, long time, no see,” he said casually as if they were old friends. “Been a while since you were trying to slaughter me. How’s the wife?”

“Dead,” Jicheol deadpanned.

Jun opened his mouth but nothing came out as he blinked, “Okay, not the reply I was expecting...”

“So what did I have to drag this pain in the ass here for?” you sighed, wanting to get this whole thing done and over with.

Jicheol grabbed his computer monitor with both hands and turned the screen to face you. It was an article about the death toll in Japan going up, and the worst of it seeming to stem from Tokyo. Nobody was able to figure out what it was, but the three of you knew exactly what was causing it.

“As you’re aware, _____, a powerful coven of vampires is ravaging Tokyo and spreading to the rest of Japan,” Jicheol began, looking between you and Jun. “Jun here is, unfortunately, one of the most infamous vampires in Korea for how hard he is to catch, and for how strong he is.”

“Thanks, chief,” Jun grinned.

You already hated where this was going.

“That’s why I want you to go with him to Tokyo--”

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Jun quickly interrupted. “Let’s go back to when you were just complimenting me, yeah? You ruined it with the whole ‘go to another country with this party pooper’ thing.”

Jicheol sighed, folding his hands together in front of him, “_____ is the strongest vampire hunter we have, but all the best in Japan have tried to catch this coven and have come up dead. If we want to stop them, we need the help of a strong vampire, too.”

“And why would I help vampire hunters?” Jun quizzed, raising an eyebrow. “You’ll just kill me when it’s over.”

“Maybe not...” Jicheol shrugged.

“What do you mean ‘maybe not’?” you demanded. 

“He could be useful to us if he chooses to cooperate with us for this. And if he chooses to stay with us, of course he’ll be spared his life, and we’ll provide protection, housing, and means of food.”

“We’re going to protect a vampire?” you clarified. “Jicheol--”

“Yeah, that seems counterproductive for a group of vampire hunters,” Jun agreed.

You rolled your eyes, grumbling, “Can you not interrupt me?”

“Can you get to your point faster then?” he countered.

Instead of speaking on your bickering, Jicheol sighed and continued, “It would be helpful to keep a few vampires on our side to weed out the difficult ones. Look, we could sit here all night and discuss rhymes and reasons but the faster I get the two of you to Tokyo, the faster we can fix this issue.”

“Do I get a negotiation?” Jun asked.

You snorted, glancing down at his handcuffed wrists before looking back at him, “I really don’t think you’re in a position for negotiating, bud.”

But instead, Jicheol replied with, “What kind of negotiation?”

Jun flashed a snarky grin your way before taking a step forward and clearing his throat, “I want protection for my brothers, too. That’s first and foremost.”

“How many?” Jicheol questioned, raising his eyebrows to show he was interested.

“Four.”

“Would they be willing to help?”

“...I can talk to them.”

Jicheol nodded, “Continue.”

“I want cool clothes like sweet cheeks over here,” Jun said, nodding his head toward you, “and I want a really nice umbrella so I can go outside during the day. And I want--”

“We can offer your friends protection,” Jicheol stated.

Jun nodded, stepping back, “Cool, thank you, sir.”

You looked incredulously between the two men, “So this is seriously happening?!”

“We’ll prepare the flight for tomorrow night,” Jicheol explained, essentially ignoring your comment, “so that gives Jun time to talk with his friends. _____, I would like if you accompanied him to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”

You wanted to tell Jicheol he was out of his goddamn mind if he thought sending you alone into five vampires was a reasonable idea, but the look on your face said it all. He simply said he knew you could handle it before carrying on.

“We’ll handle packing and such. We’ll equip you with everything you’ll need and everything that’ll help you. Please report back here tomorrow at midnight.”

“What do I do with him until tomorrow night?” you wondered.

“Take him with you,” Jicheol replied as if the answer was obvious.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, “You-- Y-you want me to babysit a handcuffed vampire all day?”

Jicheol cocked his head, “Do you think you can’t handle it?”

“Of course I can!” you insisted immediately.

“Then what’s the issue, _____?”

You really wanted to snap at Jicheol and tell him to go fuck himself, but instead you just grumbled and turned sharply on your heels to leave. Jun giggled at your angry expression and began to follow after you.

“Goodbye, Jicheol!” he sang over his shoulder. “See ya later!”

“You two have fun,” Jicheol smirked playfully.

Jun sighed as he fell in step beside you, seeming more amused than ever now, “Oh, I’m positive we will. Isn’t that right, _____?”

You frowned, refusing to look at him, “Eat a dick.”

As the door closed behind you and the two of you walked down the hallway, Jun tisked, “I would watch your attitude around me or I just might end up eating you, sunshine.”

“I’d like to see you try, bloodsucker,” you shot back, glaring at him now. “I can kill you just as easy.”

He chuckled shaking his head as his voice dropped lower, “That’s not the kind of eating I meant.”

You cursed yourself for blushing -- and Jun definitely noticed because he was giggling about it -- and cursed Jicheol for getting you into this mess. But the sooner everything was over with, the sooner you didn’t have to deal with Junhui.

Tomorrow night really could not come faster.

#seventeen #jun #junhui #seventeen au #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen oneshot #seventeen fanfic #vampire!seventeen #seventeen x reader #jun au #jun imagine #jun oneshot #jun scenario #jun fanfic #vampire!jun #jun x reader #junhui au #junhui imagine #junhui scenario #junhui oneshot #junhui fanfic #vampire!junhui #junhui x reader

[gguktarts]

decathect | jjk (1)

1. to withdraw one’s feelings of attachment from (a person, idea, or object), as in anticipation of a future loss

summary: if one thing was clear to you when you first met Jeon Jungkook, it was that he would never love you. at least, not the way you wanted him to.

pairing: jjk x reader genre: unrequited love au? || angst || little fluff if u Squint || drabble series word count: 2.7k parts:  1 / ? | next » cw: uhh kinda unhealthy depictions of a crush, & jk is a fuckboy w lots of tatts and long hair so that deserves a warning on its Own i say

note: so,,, this was supposed to be a short fic bc i wanted my heart broken but it turned into a drabble series……………….we’ll see how that goes!!! rip

You’ve heard of him from your friends, and from their friends: about the infamous Jeon Jungkook and the reputation that precedes him. He’s, first and foremost, an art major — and an excelling one at that. In the short three years he’s been an undergrad, his work has been featured, so far, in a total of 4 major art exhibitions. His displayed work apparently sells rather quickly, too, which surely earns him more than enough money to successfully continue his various artistic endeavors and out-of-uni activities. You’ve heard he’s also into tattoos, boxing, and photography on the side, for example. Whether it was true or not was not something you focused on, but considering his friends were they ones telling the tales, you didn’t doubt it. Not that you thought of it often, or at all, really.

What you did question was why exactly he felt the need to stop by Taehyung’s very own, very private, and very expensive Goghrik’s Vancrylics paint collection to use instead of his own. You didn’t want to think him as cheap because, quite frankly, you knew nothing more than those whispered rumors and offhanded comments Jimin and Yoongi perpetrated on occasion. So, you settled for thinking nothing until you could get concrete answers. 

For a long time Jungkook remained a simple ghost, until finally one day he just existed. Everywhere, and then, always. As if meeting him once meant he’d open the door to your home to welcome himself as an indefinite guest, you suddenly had no week free of his presence or his trace. Like a growing avalanche you learned about him with repeated increase, sometimes by choice, and sometimes by mere coincidence. Maybe it was pure coincidence, too, how you came to fall for him — for Jeon Jungkook, the artist, the fuckboy. With time though, you came to a different understanding.

Liking Jungkook was no coincidence.  It was a curse – a long, and tediously everlasting hex you’d so far failed to get rid of.  

And it all started, you begrudgingly admit sometimes, with some paint and very little luck.

Being in one of the most prestigious Universities in the country naturally means you consistently face the demon of a huge – nay, an enormous campus. A wide lake rests between dispersed buildings while Hi-Q food marts border each cluster of separate dorms, connected all entirely by desire paths and concrete roads. It's no surprise then that a map is the standard gift given to all entrance students, though by now you’ve memorized practically all zones you inhabit (i.e. the Natural Sciences’ Atrium, the Physics Department, and your own dorm). Most people still use theirs, along with the mandatory transportation fare card Admissions urges all newcomers to get. More than anything it’s a must-have for anyone who wants to actually make it on time to class — more so when they’re not blessed with taking courses on a near-by group of Departments.

And it just so happened you’re amongst those ill-fated few.

For four years now you’ve been a resident of Dorm C, exactly the furthest of the dorms from the NS Atrium. Instead you’re — uselessly — at a walking distance from the Plastic Arts department, a place you’ve ventured to for only a single semester back in your second year. Back then you had decided that taking Pottery was a great way to fill in some of your electives, an idea which mostly Taehyung, an art major himself, cemented in your head. You remember nothing of your treks to the department, nor of the lessons you received, but your memory often recalls it happened whenever you visit him. Your final project, a 2-piece set of misshapen cups of tea, still rests atop one of his many bookshelves to this day. Taehyung calls them “endearing”, something about them “truly reflecting a purpose beyond what their ‘perfect brethren’ are subjected to”. Which, really, is code for “they could be used as mugs, but I like them better as vases for Namjoon’s succulents,” and you’re okay with that.

Namjoon, an English Lit major, is Tae’s roommate and the other occupant of their two-bedroom flat. As luck would have it they stay on the floor above your own, right atop your much smaller and much lonelier dorm room. It’s actually one of the shared excuses you all use for your constant visits.

Half of the time you spend on their flat includes being tucked away on their couch, reading astronomy journals or watching documentaries Joon frequently sits through alongside you, or sleeping under Tae’s covers simply because he enjoys the company and can’t seem to sleep otherwise. The rest of the time the boys, sometimes with you in tow on an off day, migrate to Jimin and Yoongi’s shared flat in Dorm D. They share their space with Jungkook, if Yoongi’s complaints about late-night water-fests were anything to go by, though you’ve never seen him there.

No, ironically, the first time you crossed paths with him was in the lobby of Dorm C — your dorm. You remember he was shifting and wandering around like a lost puppy, his eyes restlessly searching for something or someone. It was him, you knew, because he’s often featured in your shared friend’s Instagram posts, and because he’s very hard to miss.

He was — is big, towering over you easily, and was then dressed all in black. A mix of comfy and effortlessly put together in perfect execution, the rolled-up sleeves of his sweater did nothing to hide the ink covering his veiny forearms. You were instantly thankful — you’ve always been drawn to tattoos. They’re admirable on others and on yourself, and you instantly had to push down the desire to keep marking your body for reasons only pertinent to the feeling of the needle on your skin or the aesthetics of the design. Your poor ass couldn’t afford another so soon, anyway.

The other thing that gave him away was his signature dark hair, long and parted in the middle to fall over his round, soft eyes. It covered his multiple piercings but did nothing to take away from the sweet persona that settled over him. Despite the dark and the goth, he seemed… cute. Very cute, and very confused. The way his eyebrows furrowed at his phone screen just before he searched through the scattered students was a dead giveaway. He was likely lost, but that wasn’t very surprising. For all the time Tae and Joon spend on Dorm D, the same couldn’t be said otherwise. Visits to Dorm C were seldom for the rest.

And a lost Jungkook… wasn’t your problem. A simple look at his boyish features was enough to ignite some sort of weird somersaults in your chest, and you wanted nothing more than to ignore it and run far away. So, you tried.

Blinking away the staring he had thankfully not noticed, you made for your own room as embarrassment coursed through your jittery limbs.

You didn’t make it very far before your plan backfired. You had to go near him to reach the elevator, and it apparently didn’t matter that you were practically hiding inside your bag, your hand rummaging through it for your room cardkey.

“Hey—uh, Y/N right?” you heard, and your body froze.

A look up, and there he was. Jeon Jungkook, calling your name. It was weird hearing your mesh of letters on his tongue, foreign to his palette yet pronounced to perfection. Equally confused as he looked before, and even further more embarrassed (you couldn’t help but think, amongst all the chaos in your mind, that his voice was ridiculously soothing and fitting for his physicality), your throat only let out a very intellectual “huh?”

“Um,” Jungkook’s eyes went wide, his head cocked to the side at your reaction. His feet shifted under him, and you tried ignoring the way his cheeks grew a lovely shade of pink when he spoke again.

“I’m Jungkook, and hyung—Taehyung mentioned you before. He isn’t answering and I’m a bit lost, so I was wondering if you could give me directions? Unless you’re not… Y/N?”

You’re often a recurrent character in Tae’s stories, so it shouldn’t have surprised you he’s spoken of you before. But it did.

“I am Y/N,” you relented, maybe a bit more bitterly than you intended. You couldn’t help but pout at the sudden reminder of Tae’s love for recording you during your most… inopportune moments. “Where is it you want to go?”

The boy in question rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a bunny-like smile making a sudden appearance. His teeth seemed to jut out a bit, and his upper lip disappeared almost entirely, but you were sure of one thing instantly: his smile was the prettiest one you’d ever seen.

You felt your chest constrict at the sight without any sense of permission, your ears going up in flames. Clearly, you were bonkers. You continued your walk towards the elevator, praying he’d keep up somewhere a bit farther from you.  But he followed without question, easily settling besides you and offering glances from the corner of his eye. You pressed the up button and pretended not to notice, playing around with your cardkey while you both waited.

“To hyung’s dorm — I haven’t ever been there, as strange as it sounds, and I need to borrow some paint.”

“Borrow some paint?” you hummed, the notion seeming somewhat silly to you. “After you’ve used it you can’t return it, so would it really be borrowing?”

You moved to look at him questioningly, curiosity getting the best of you, and the feeling you were hit with was far too paralyzing for you to carry. It was a sudden storm of affection, a wave of currents that spread and tightened, tickling and burning your stomach each second you saw his crinkled eyes, his teeth fully bared into a humorous grin. It made your feet stick to the ground even after the doors of the elevator greeted you open.

“You’re a weird one aren’t you?” he muttered airily, more to himself than anything, before shrugging and prompting you to follow him inside the confined space. “Technically, you’re right, but saying I’m borrowing stuff sounds nicer, doesn’t it? It’s all about semantics. Don’t worry though, hyung lets me take some of his whenever I run out.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you said much after that, but you did take him all the way to Tae’s and Joon’s front door. He thanked you softly before you left, with a smile sincere and gentle in ways you hadn’t expected. You remember nodding along and, possibly, wishing him good luck on his art project, but you weren’t sure by the time you reached your room.

You remember skipping your assignments that night, choosing instead a hot shower and the comforts of your recently cleaned bed. It was the first attempt at forgetting the whole event, a new mission for your mind to complete before a crush settled its anchor.

You were used to six handsome guys. You drew the line at seven.

Meeting Jungkook for the first time was disastrous for the days that followed. Maybe you were being a bit dramatic, but it was rightfully warranted. Your brain had vaguely memorized what he looked like outside of pictures, and now you saw him everywhere. It was the frequency bias all over again, and it had no escape, just like that one time you wanted to dye your hair and suddenly half the population seemed to be dying it that very color. Similarly, interacting with Jungkook meant noticing him in your peripheral when he wasn’t front and center, knowing it was him in the distance. It only worsened when your paths began to regularly cross.

It happened and continuous to happen mostly in the presence of Tae or Joon, or any of Jungkook’s roommates. 

Whenever you’d spend some time on the couch with Joon, he was there. Whenever you woke up midday and decide it was high time to cook brunch for three (four then), he was already there. When Yoongi invited you over to hear some of the pieces he’s been working on, Jungkook was miraculously in the apartment. Oh, you wanted to steal some of Tae’s shirts? Jungkook catches you red handed, some stolen paints of his own right in his treacherous hold.

It’s absolutely maddening.

You wouldn’t mind it so much if it weren’t for the fact that each new stare, each new smile, leaves your stomach in complete shambles.

Who could take you back to the time when you hadn’t heard his loud laugh? To when he hadn’t seen you loafing around in your onesie after a killer test and stayed to comfort you? He even called you cute, shared some of his milk and made sure to leave only after he’d seen you smile. Sometimes he’d even notice you watch your documentaries only to pop a random question about space, or even about the science behind Star Trek or Star Wars when “Clearly FTL travel isn’t possible?” (To which you’d answer: “Not yet it isn’t, you non-believer”) before falling quiet and leaving you be. They were small conversations with no more than 3 lines exchanged, but they were more than enough for the butterflies seeping through your ribcage to go on a frenzy.

And despite everything you heard and everything you began to know, Jungkook was possibly the softest, sweetest, and most annoying person you knew. At least superficially. 

You still knew nothing personal about him, with your interactions being limited to shared spaces, but you didn’t think much of it until you began to see all kinds of things: his cute habits, his quirks, and even the way his tattoo collection grows.

You’ve silently noticed the way he wiggles his toes when he sits to watch a series, how he blinks a lot when he’s confused. You’ve seen the way he scratches the back of his head when he’s not confident about something, and how his eyes smile before his lips do, and the way his laugh resonates all around the room in the most euphoric melodies. All of this you come to know as unequivocally Jungkook. And you know, you know you’re so whipped for him that you can’t stop being in-tuned with it, with his little things.

But you’re also aware of your situation, and it doesn’t surprise you when your chest starts to hurt over it — over him, because you see his other things: the way each week curls a different girl around his waist, the way his eyes turn cold when he says he doesn’t do relationships, and the way he looks at you.

It’s never with disgust or anything of the sort. It’s just that you’ve seen the way he looks at the girls he fucks with, the girls he finds attractive, the girls he likes for a single night to then discard them.

And he’s never looked at you like that. You suppose that’s good, but... then again, you guess it means you’re nothing. After all, Jeon Jungkook never offers you any hope, he never shows any interest. Technically you’re not even his friend — not really. You’re Taehyung’s other best friend, an outside addition to his usual friend group, and now to his life. You’re okay with that, you have to be. You haven’t sought him out, haven’t done anything to close the gap between you. Water and care is something you never wanted to give your unjustified feelings. You never wanted them to grow, even now.

You just failed to take note of the rain pouring over the earth and pooling beneath your feet, and you don’t notice you’re drowning until you see him at the end of the day.

The girl attached to him is a stranger to you, just like the rest you’ve seen, yet you can’t seem to shake the thought that something must be different. Whatever she has seems to be enough for the tattooed man to shatter his distaste for PDA, at least for the time being.

Your legs hesitate to unceremoniously halt in the middle of the hall. Your eyes battle not to widen and not to stare, for a second desperate to make sure that what you’re seeing is real, that you’re seeing Jungkook kiss for the first time in forever as if you hadn’t known all this time that he fucks and loves behind closed doors. 

And it doesn’t matter that the kiss isn’t gentle, that he’s kissing her as if she were the very air he needed to breathe. No, what makes you sick is how he notices, how he sees you, and how he does nothing but pull her closer in response.

You push yourself to move as soon as his eyes drift away again, unwilling to tremble before him and unwilling to make any more mistakes.

Class would have to wait. You needed coffee, even if it meant being late. And you absolutely hate being late to Astrophysics, but you definitely hated seeing him more.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts fanfiction #drabble series: dct

[croatian-nt]

Mafia au-Part five

Summary: When an unassuming artist saves a man’s life at the shooting at the gallery, he ends up in the midde of the war between two mafias and as he gets dragged deeper into the whole thing, he soon learns the line between the sides and right and wrong blur more than he expected.

Pairings: Livi/Bruno

Word Count: 3417

Warnings: mentions of blood, fighting, threats of violence and torture, mentions of broken bones

Notes: I apologize for the longer wait for this part, last week has been a bit hectic and this chapter was supposed to be from Suba’s pov but I legit scrapped it bc this made more sense so. Yeah. Here it is at last. As always, thank you @lovren-la-vida-luka for editing this, you are a life saver. To everyone else, enjoy :)

Livi

 Livi was pacing. He was well aware that Bruno was getting more agitated by the second, but he couldn't help it. It helped him think. And there was one question that kept bothering him.

 How did Josip know there would be a shooting at the gallery? 

 Josip was only a byki, and he wouldn't know if someone from high up ordered an assassin. Unless, it wasn't an assassin, and someone from the mafia decided to do the job themselves, which either meant it was personal, or they didn't want anyone to find out. Or both. 

 Livi shivered, despite the fact that he wasn't cold. He could only imagine this kill being personal for one person. Suba.

 He closed his eyes and pulled on his hair, hoping the pain will make him concentrate. 

 Why would he want to kill Luka, after all this time? What could have Luka possible have done that- suddenly that train of thought ground to a halt and Livi froze with it, stopping his pacing. 

 He started training Livi. Throwing knives, catching them. Making Livi show him how Lovre and Suba taught him to fight. He was training him to fight them. 

 And Livi talked about it to Josip. 

 Livi leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling sick. Luka was using him, preparing him to take out people he used to call his family. And Josip... Josip might have reported everything he said to Suba. 

 Livi was certain his legs were going to give out under him.

 "Livi? Livi!" Bruno's voice and his hand on his shoulder got him out of his frozen state. 

 He turned around, but just enough to hug Bruno and bury his face in his neck. He willed himself to concentrate on Bruno's heartbeat, to let it calm him down, but he couldn't stop his thoughts from spiraling. 

 If Suba planned this,and Josip knew he wanted Luka dead, why send him a message? Was it regret or...

 They didn't know about Bruno. They didn't know Bruno would convince him to call Šime. So what did they know? 

 Livi closed his eyes, trying to see himself through his best friend's eyes. What would he expect him to do? What would Livi do, two years ago?

 He would go alone. And arrive just in time to be killed as well. 

 This time his legs did give out and he clung desperately to Bruno not to fall. Bruno caught him, carefully carrying him to the couch, and then lifted his chin, forcing him to look him in the eyes.

 "Please tell me what's going on, Dominik. You are scaring me."

 Damn. Livi knew it was serious when his boyfriend used his full name, but as much as he wanted to share everything with him, he didn't even know where to begin. And should he even tell him? What if Bruno gets killed as well, just because Livi got him involved in all this?

 "Don't do that."

 Livi snapped his gaze back to Bruno, raising his eyebrows. He still wasn't sure if he could speak without his voice betraying him.

 "Don't shut me out and deal with whatever is going through your head alone. And before you say it, I don't care if you think it's better for me that way - that's not your decision to make. I am your boyfriend, please let me in. Let me help you."

 And Livi told him everything. He didn't plan to, but when he started talking, it all just poured out of him, and as he talked he realized how many secrets he was actually carrying. 

 He told Bruno why he really defected, how the only other people who knew that were Luka, Dalić and Josip. How he and Josip stayed in touch. How he suspected Luka had ulterior motives for training him. And how he thinks Suba wanted Luka dead because of that.

 The silence rang loudly in Livi's ears after he finished his speech. He was too scared to look at Bruno, but the longer the silence stretched, the more his anxiety grew. 

 "So what do you plan to do?" 

 Of all the questions Livi was anticipating, that was not one of them.

 "What? After all that, that's the only thing you are going to ask?"

 Bruno shrugged, and squeezed Livi's fidgeting hands between his.

 "That's the only one that matters right now. I mean, I'm not going to lie, this is a lot to take in. But I trust you, especially after you trusted me with all of this. But, from what you told me, we can't really trust anyone else, and we need to act quickly. So... what do you plan to do?"

 Livi chewed on his bottom lip, thinking. He grabbed his phone - the one he used to talk to Josip. But he didn't dial the number or start typing a message. He just stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. 

 Bruno stood up, letting go off Livi's hands. Livi already felt cold.

 "If you'd prefer me to leave so you can talk to him..."

 "No!" Livi shouted, startling both of them. 

 Bruno stared at him, willing him to tell him what he decided. What he wanted. Whose side he was choosing. Livi was so tired of choosing.

 "I am just..." Livi sighed, ruffling his hair. “I am so tired of choosing." 

 Unable to bear the sight of the screen any longer, Livi threw the phone. It fell to the floor with a loud thud, followed by a silence that stretched for a long, long moment as he stared at it.

 And then Bruno walked over and gently took Livi's hand in his, rubbing soothing circles in his palm.

 "Then don't. Just choose this… choose us. There is no right or wrong here anymore. We both know better than that."

 Livi turned his head to the side, trying to make sure that he got what Bruno was saying.

 "What do you mean?"

 "I mean... we could disappear. We need two days max, just to pack everything and leave. We’ll figure out where we’re going on the way, and I can easily get us everything we need."

 Livi met Bruno's fierce, unwavering gaze. Livi saw Bruno as his anchor, but he sometimes forgot he could be a storm as well. 

 "But your sister..."

 Bruno smiled, shaking his head.

 "It would be better for her to get away from this city as well. Somewhere safe. Somewhere where there are no sides to pick." 

 Livi could see that life, so perfectly clearly in front of his eyes. A life that he wanted so badly growing up. And Bruno was offering him all that on a silver plate. And yet...

 Livi squeezed Bruno's hand tighter.

 "I want that, I swear I do. This isn't a no. Just a not yet."

 Bruno nodded, but Livi could see his face fall slightly. To anyone else, the change in expression would have been undetectable, but Livi knew each feature of this man’s face like the back of his hand, and the almost imperceptible droop of his eyes and mouth sent a pang of guilt through Livi’s chest. He closed the distance between them and kissed Bruno slowly, trying to put all of his love and gratitude into that kiss. Once they parted, Livi pressed their foreheads together, looking intensely into Bruno’s eyes.

 "I just need to know first. I need to know if my best friend lied to me all this time. And I need to know if my dad-" Livi realized his mistake, and quickly tried to swallow a lump in his throat, "if Suba ordered a hit on me. I need to know, before I move on. Or I will carry my past wherever we go." 

 It was Bruno who kissed him this time. Livi pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He wanted to have this moment frozen in time and keep it forever. He wanted to forget about right and wrong, about choices, about a murky past and uncertain future and everything inbetween. Just for one perfect moment.

 Neither of them said anything for a moment after they parted. Bruno gently stroked Livi's cheek with his thumb and then pressed one more quick kiss against his lips. 

 “So for the third damn time,” Bruno said with a hint of a smile, “what's the plan?"

 Livi grabbed the phone from the floor and took a deep breath. 

 "First, we find out what's really going on. One way or another."

 ***

 Livi tried not to think about all the things that could go wrong. If Josip suspected anything and didn’t arrive alone, the whole plan would fall to pieces.

 He looked around the apartment while he waited. It looked almost the same as it did when he left it two years ago, just emptier and with dust heavily settled over everything. The comfortable brown couch stood in the same place, and while some of the furniture was turned over, probably in search for clues after his disappearance, it still looked too similar to how he left it for his liking.

 The front doors opened with a soft click and Livi froze in his hiding spot, tensely waiting. Josip entered the room and Livi held his breath for a heartbeat, and then another. Nobody came in after him. Livi exhaled.

 And then he grabbed his gun, and ignoring the guilt churning in his stomach, pointed it at Josip, stepping into the room. 

 "Don't move," Livi said, making Josip spin around to face him.

 He eyed the gun in Livi's steady hands, and Livi could practically feel him calculating the distance between them and how fast he could disarm him. Too bad Livi counted on that.

 "Don't bother. We both know I can shoot much faster than you can move, and I don't think you want a bullet wound."

 Josip pressed his lips into a thin line, slowly raising his arms in surrender. 

 "What the fuck are you doing, Dominik?"

 Livi almost laughed at the use of his name - no one except Bruno really used it, unless they were mad at him. He supposed pointing a gun at someone was a good enough reason to be mad, though.

 "Getting some answers. How did you know about the shooting at the gallery?"

 Josip paled, and his hands twitched, as if he was resisting the urge to fidget. Or reach for Livi's gun.

 "Didn't we have an agreement about not asking each other about what we do and what we know? So no one can gain the upper hand?"

 Livi cocked his gun, and the sound rang in the silence. 

 "Tell me how you knew about the shooting or the next question I will ask will be if you'd prefer me to shoot you in the leg or in the arm first."

 Josip clenched his jaw, and focused on Livi, analyzing him for a moment. Probably calculating how likely he was to pull the trigger. 

 Livi felt numb. The only thing he concentrated on was the weight of the gun in his hands, and his steady breathing. Nothing more, nothing less. It was a trick Suba taught him when was younger. Focus on things you can control, and let them ground you. 

 "I was supposed to be a backup, if anything happened. The plan changed last minute," Josip bit his lip, "but something was off about the whole thing. 

 "Off how?"

 "Off like... it was very rushed. Sloppy almost. Kalinić wanted it to be over with quickly-"

 Josip's speech got interrupted by the doors slamming open and Livi, in his startled state, took about two seconds to turn and aim his gun at the intruder and shoot. Too slow. 

 He missed. 

 The man moved so fast Livi didn't recognize him at first. Not until they both stood opposite each other, each looking down the barrel of the other’s gun. 

 His long blond hair pulled into a ponytail and the way he held a gun were unmistakable. Domagoj Vida. Shit.

"Livi. Put the gun down. You really don't want to make this worse for yourself."

 Livi tightened his hold on his weapon.

 "Make what worse for myself? What exactly did I do to make you decide to point your gun at me?"

If he was being honest, he was stalling. It wasn't hard to guess why Domo was here. Livi acted too suspicious lately, leaving too many clues for someone to pick up.

 Knowing information he shouldn't, then showing up with backup to save Luka from the hospital... he was getting sloppy and someone - either Luka or Dalić, he supposed - caught on. Stupid. 

 "Luka told me to keep an eye on you. That you might be getting information from people," Domo titled his head towards Josip, "that you shouldn't even talk to anymore. And it seems he was right."

 Livi clenched his teeth, studying the man in front of him. He’d seen Domo fight a few times, so he knew what he was dealing with. He was brutal and reckless, but his main goal was to cause damage. Which meant his blows wouldn't be as precise as Livi's. If he could give a few precise hits fast enough...

 "He didn't specify if I should deliver you and your friend dead or alive though. Which is unusual, but I’m taking it to mean it’s up to me, so you might think about what you are going to do."

 Livi's blood froze in his veins as something clicked in his head. There was no way Luka could have said that. Livi spoke to Šime before all of this mess and Luka was asleep. And if he did that after he woke up, there’s no way Domo would have the time to follow him here.

 Someone was setting him up. Livi couldn't think past the roaring of blood in his ears. Josip's words from earlier echoed in his ears. Kalinić. His brother was somehow involved in all this, but he couldn't have ordered Domo… not unless he had help from someone from their side. 

 Livi pushed all of his thoughts and suspicions aside, acknowledging that he really didn't have the time to think about this right now. He needed to focus on keeping himself - and possibly Josip – alive for now. 

 Domo glanced at Josip for the briefest second, but that was all Livi needed. 

 He threw himself forward, knocking Domo's gun out of his hands, but losing his in the process as well. They both scrambled for their weapons and landed clumsily on the floor with Livi on top of Domo.

 "Run!" he shouted to Josip, which earned him a hard punch in the mouth for his moment of distraction.

 Pain spread through his jaw and he tasted blood from his split lip. He jabbed Domo in the ribs with his elbow, and by the crack and the grunt of the pain, he probably broke at least one. 

 Domo retaliated by kicking him square in the solar plexus, and Livi gasped, trying to catch his breath through the sharp pain. Domo pushed him off, and Livi rolled on the floor, barely getting up in time to stop Domo's next blow.

 He blocked the punch, but wasn't fast enough to stop Domo from grabbing his wrist as he did so, slamming his left hand to the wall. The sickening crack and pain that erupted from his wrist told him it was broken. Well shit. 

 Livi reached blindly with his right hand, grabbing the first thing on the counter next to him and slamming it into his opponent’s head. He saw that it had been a vase, but it shattered as it connected with Domo, sending shards of ornately painted ceramic clattering to the floor. 

 Livi pushed him away hard and Domo stumbled, shaking his head to stay conscious. Livi didn't give him a chance to recover - he jumped, spun in the air and kicked Domo right in the head. The blond dropped to the floor with a loud thud, and then there was silence. Livi's breath was ragged, but he didn't have the time to get it under control. 

 He grabbed his and Domo's gun from the floor and ran to the door. Bruno was waiting for him with a parked car and his eyes widened when he saw his boyfriend. Livi realised that he probably looked awful, with blood on his face and his left wrist hanging limply. 

 "Drive!" Livi ordered as soon as he sat in the car and Bruno complied, eyeing him nervously.

 Bruno was about to say something but Livi interrupted him again. 

 "Not to our apartment. Drive to the safehouse where Luka and Ante are. If I am right, they are equally in danger as I am."

 Livi reached for his phone, hissing in pain as he remembered his left hand wasn't functional at the moment. 

 "What danger? Livi, what's going on?" Bruno asked, gripping the wheel tighter. 

 "No time to explain, sorry" Livi said, dialing Šime's number, "I need to call Šime and tell him he needs to be there as well. Something is very, very wrong."

 Before Livi could press call though, something else happened. Josip was calling him. He never called him on this phone unless it was an emergency, but Livi supposed this whole situation was one. He answered immediately.

 "Josip? Are you alright?"

 "Yes," The other man's voice was breathless from running, "I needed to check if you were alive. I am almost at the main house now but, God, Livi what the fuck was that?"

 Livi sighed, not being sure what to say. How could he even explain when he wasn't sure what was going on?

 "I am not sure myself. Just...be careful, alright?"

 "There is something else that I need to tell you. I remembered-"

Josip's voice was suddenly cut off, and Livi could hear distant voices and shouting from the background. What was going on?

 "Who is this?" a different voice asked sharply.

 Livi's heart stopped for a moment, his blood turning to ice. This voice was all too familiar… a voice that he had been hearing almost his whole life. The voice of his brother. Lovre.

 "Lovre?" 

 The question escaped him without his permission and he wanted to kick himself instantly? What kind of stupid idiot...

 "Livi," Lovre's voice was icy, and he didn't ask, he knew it was him, "I see you found a way to keep tabs on us. Congratulations."

 Livi gripped the phone tighter, his breath catching in his throat. Hearing his brother’s cold, detached tone hurt him more than he thought possible, even after all this time. 

 "I hope you got all the information you needed. Your friend Posavec might be... otherwise preoccupied for a while. A little tied up, one could say."

 Livi could practically hear the sadistic smirk on Lovre’s face, and it sent a shiver down his spine. Images of Josip being tortured flashed through his mind, making him feel so nauseous that he thought he was going to throw up right then and there.

 "But since I’m such a good brother, I'll give you a choice. If you show up in the next 48 hours, I'll let him live. If you don't... well I’m sure you get the idea, but I'll send you a video just to make sure."

 Livi breathed in sharply, biting his already split lip until blood was all he could taste. His head was spinning.

 "Lovre, wait! You can't-"

 A dull beep told him the line had gone dead, and he let the phone slip through his shaking fingers. God, what had he done?

 He glanced at Bruno, who, by the look on his face, was definitely still looking for answers of his own. His mind quickly went through Luka, Šime and Ante's possible reactions, and realised that he knew what he had to do. He picked up the phone from the footwell and opened a new text message… Bruno couldn't hear this conversation. 

 I need your help. Text me as soon as you wake up. 

 Livi had hoped to be able to talk to Luka in person about this, but the way things were going, he didn't want to risk it. 

 Livi smiled bitterly. Who better to ask how to fight his brother, than the person who’d been training him for that exact situation for months?

 With that thought, Livi's exhaustion and injuries finally caught up with him and he fell back into his seat, drifting off into a turbulent sleep.

Taglist:

@morska-vjestica

 @hetapeep41

 @hvnedge

 @incelhugochavez

@wordpuddle

#croatian nt #mafia au #dominik livakovic #bruno petkovic #josip posavec #domagoj vida #long post

[chocoships]

swap chase freaking out bc Anti disappears and he goes looking for him but finds out that he just fell asleep from exhaustion, then we get sweet fluffy cuddling action!!

[oooh boy this took way longer than expected. Sorry about that! I kinda had to strap myself in front of my computer today so I wouldn’t drift off to animal crossing again. I hope this is good enough to compensate for the wait!]

Chase was starting to get worried.

He was aware that he was probably just overthinking the situation again, Anti was just in his recording room like usual, it wasn’t anything to worry about. Sure, he’d been holed up in here for hours now but considering the recent circumstances it was understandable.

Anti had been plagued by a sudden increase of technical difficulties lately. It was frustrating, yes, but nothing that he couldn’t deal with. He could manage it well enough at first but it seemed like every issues, no matter how many times he tried to fix them, just kept piling on each others until it eventually all came crashing down. The culminating result of this frustrating event had been the loss of almost a week worth of work. The only silver lining in all of this was that most of it could still be salvaged, but it would undeniably take a lot of time to bring everything back to normal. Chase had tried his best to help Anti, but other than calming him down and supporting him there wasn’t much that the glitch could actually do. He would have offered to help him, perhaps ease most of sudden workload off his already exhausted partner, but it was quickly proven that having an actual living glitch near his computer simply added more to the whole mess. Anti was incredibly busy and the most that Chase could do right now was to leave him alone to work in peace.  

It should have been easy enough, right? Surely, the cold and fearsome glitch was able to leave his partner alone for most of the day?

Apparently not.

By the five hour mark, Chase was pacing back and forth in the hallway, muttering to himself.

“Relax, relax, you’re worrying over nothing. Anti’s fine, he’s just busy, he’s-” His eyes kept flickering toward the closed door in front of him. He hadn’t heard anything coming from the other side in a while, it was normal knowing that the room was mostly soundproof, but that simple explanation did nothing to ease the worries of the glitch. He didn’t know why he was so easily concerned about the well being of Anti, he was a grown man capable of handling himself just fine… most of the time at least. Alright, maybe his boyfriend wasn’t the best at taking care of himself sometimes, but if there was one thing he excelled at it was being left alone for long periods of time. It should have reassured him, but Chase had never really been able to shake off the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that always urged him to take care of Anti.

God, he’d really fallen hard for him, didn’t he?

He knew that at some point the urge to check up on Anti would be too strong to ignore, eventually he’d open that door. So… if it was indeed inevitable then taking a small peek in the room shouldn’t be a big deal. Yeah? He’d just be in and out, fast and easy, no need to interrupt Anti in his process to catch up back to schedule. Well, maybe he could also steal a quick kiss at the same time too. Just a small peck to satiate the need to smother the other in affection.

Alright, it was decided then. With a quick nod to himself, Chase took hold of the knob and slightly nudged the door open. 

“Anti? Is everything doing ok-” The glitch froze before he even had the chance to finish his sentence.

Anti was laying face down on his desk, unmoving.

In less than the blink of a second, Chase was at his side.

The glitch had seen this particular sight many time before now, but panic still rose in him for a short moment. His first reflex was to check on his partner’s breathing. A sigh of relief left him as he watched Anti’s chest slowly rise and fall.

He’s fine, he just fell asleep mid editing. There’s nothing to worry about. 

Chase was sure that if he had an actual heart it would still be hammering against his rib cage at this exact moment. Still, a false moment of panic was still better than a real one. A small smile formed on the face of the glitch as he watched the peaceful expression on his boyfriend’s sleeping face, but it slightly faltered when he noticed the deep bags under his eyes. Poor Anti, he never had the most healthy sleep schedule to begin with. All the additional stress and rush certainly didn’t help either, the exhaustion must have crashed into him if he blacked out at his desk like this.

Maybe Chase’s earlier worries had not for nothing after all. Goddammit, he should have acted on it sooner. It would have at least saved Anti the discomfort of falling asleep like that. As adorable as he was like this, this position couldn’t possibly be good for his back and Chase couldn’t simply leave him like this.

Without any hesitation, the glitch took Anti into his arms. The man didn’t even stir as he was carefully maneuvered into a bridal position, his body simply laid limp in the gentle hold. This moment could easily be seen as endearing if it hadn’t been for the circumstances that led to it.

With Anti securely in his arms, Chase started walking back toward the door, but as he entered the threshold of it the glitch stopped and turned his head toward Anti’s computer. He glared at the screen and in mere seconds it sprung to life. Chase didn’t bother to stay any longer as the electronic instantly powered itself back from sleep mode, the screen flashed frantically between myriads of opened tabs and scattered files of half edited projects just as the glitch left the room. There, that should save Anti the strain of panicking over if he saved his work or not once he woke up.

 It didn’t take long for Chase to reach the bedroom, but as he gently laid down the unconscious form of Anti atop the cover of their bed, one of his hand slightly tightened around his wrist.

The grasp was incredibly weak, could it really be called a grasp if there wasn’t any force behind it? It was more just resting on Chase’s arms than anything else. He could have easily slipped away from it, even glitch away, and let Anti’s hand fall back on the bed. There was nothing truly holding him back but the longer Chase watched the peaceful expression of his partner, the more his resolve crumbled away. 

It was highly probable that Chase was simply searching for any reasons to stay alongside Anti as he slumbered on, and this coincidence was the only thing he needed before making his decision.

A faint grunt escaped Anti as the mattress beneath him slightly moved next to him but it was quickly followed by a contented sigh when familiar arms found their way around his waist. Chase’s chest was pressed flush against his back, the comfortable pressure of his embrace was more than welcome. Anti practically melted into Chase’s hold, he didn’t even stir as the glitch buried his face into the crook of his neck. Leaving one small kiss before settling down into the cozy position.

As an inhuman entity, Chase might have no need for sleep but it didn’t mean that he couldn’t let himself drift off alongside his darling. Knowing fully that they were safe and loved.

#ask #antiaverage #egoshipping #swap au #yes Anti is the little spoon #also this wasn't beta read and I doubt my tired eyes were able to find any typos so if you see one tell me #choco's writing

[nadisabug]

Title: Sick

Fandom: Danganronpa (SDR2) AU: post-simulation Warnings: disorientation and sickness A/N: okay so I've been super stressed with school, and all I can think about is what if Hajime is getting sick right and he tries to hide it because now hes in charge of the class and apart of the Future Foundation and he is really good at hiding it except nagito notices bc hes nagito and watches hajime closely and now its all i can think about here i go

^^^

Hajime felt awful.

He had been feeling really off for days now, but he brushed it aside. He had to, everyone relied on him. The only reason why they were allowed off the island in the first place was because Hajime convinced Makoto and the rest of the Future Foundation to allow them to move back to the mainland because staying on the island where everything happened would just be worse. Makoto knew Hajime was right, staying on the island was the worst thing that could happen to the students, he told Hajime himself that. But, the Future Foundation was nothing if not skeptical. They were not sure if the students were properly rehabilitated, seeing as they got all their memories back, so they still did not trust the so-called Remnants. Consequently, they were a lot of conditions associated with leaving the island and moving into their relatively nice place. All of which rested squarely on Hajime's shoulders.

One of them was the morning report to Makoto.

He had to report how everyone was doing, feeling, saying, and acting. They did have an assigned therapist that was required to meet with them biweekly, who had her own report, but they wanted an update from the supposed leader of the community as well. Hajime took this responsibility very seriously. Honestly, he had nothing else to offer. He couldn't make patrol groups to help keep the streets safe like Kuzuryu, Pekoyama, Owari, and Nidai, he couldn't help create relief packages like Teruteru, Soda, Tsumiki, and Tanaka, and he couldn't go out into the streets and inspire hope like Moida, Nevermind, Koizumi, and Saionji. He couldn't even just cycle through the three, like Komaeda did, lending his luck to all of the causes. He had a knack for finding out where trouble was occurring, adding personalized items to packages just right and relying on his luck to deliver it to the citizen who needed it most, and no matter how unnerving he could be, no one could deny his unwavering charisma and the faith and hope it inspired in the citizens. Hajime could do none of that. All he had were his supervision and regulatory jobs. So he committed himself to completing them to the best of his ability. He collected and documented everyone's reports flawlessly, he kept inventory and sent out refill requests before the other students knew they were running low on anything, and he never missed a morning report.

Until today. 

Hajime woke up groggily to the sound of his Comm beeping. His head was pounding, needles pressing into his temples, and he could feel the dull throb as his blood pumped through his exhausted body. The pain flared in rhythm with the beat, waves of pain rolling over his head as the pressure within felt like it was going to burst. He was about to chalk it up to the fact that he had gone to sleep at 4 am the night before when he sucked in a deep breath, stopping halfway when a fit of coughs overtook him, curling into himself and coughing desperately into his elbow. Once the fit subsided, he took another, full deep breath and picked up his Comm device. On it, read the time.

7:37. Fuck.

He answered it quickly, then threw the covers off of himself, launching to his feet. As he did so, a wave of nausea rolled over him, his vision going completely white. He stumbled forward and caught himself on the dresser, slamming the edge of his elbow on the corner in the process. He bit down on his tongue to keep the contents of his stomach down. Hard. He tasted the the sour blood as it coated his tongue and filled his mouth, but he did not let up.

"You're late," a cold voice announced from the Comm's speaker. With how hard Hajime was gripping the thing, he was surprised it was still working.

Fucking hell. The one day he was late of course Kirirgiri had to be there. He swallowed the blood and the pain radiating from his head, and now his funny bone, with a grimace. "My apologies Kirigiri-san. It was not my intention to-"

"I have neither the time nor the patience for your excuses, boy. Get to your device, now."

The line went dead, much like how Hajime felt and knew he was. Kirigiri pointedly refused to use his name. She was livid.

And she had every right to be, Hajime thought as he desperately pulled on the first pair of trousers he saw. He was an entire 37 minutes late. He started buttoning his shirt frantically, but found that he could not get his hands to stop shaking enough to do so. Hajime cursed and tossed the shirt to the side, instead opting to wear his undershirt to the meeting, and not his usual formal wear. He ran into the bathroom to smooth his hair when it hit him.

His stomach convulsed and the next thing he knew he was heaving into the toilet, a white knuckle grip on the toilet bowl. He skipped dinner last night because he hadn't been feeling well, so the only thing that came up was bile, burning his throat and stinging his nose. All he could think about was getting whatever was in him out as fast as possible so that he could get to the meeting.

Once the heaving subsided, he rushed to the sink and rinsed his mouth quickly, wiping the snot and vomit onto his hand towel. He rushed out of the bathroom, not bothering to flush or brush his teeth. When he finally threw himself into the conference room, he found that the screen on the computer was already depicting a grainy image of Makoto, Kirigiri standing over his shoulder. He threw himself into his usual seat at the head of the table and in front of the monitor, straightening up  and trying to appear as composed as possible.

Both Makoto and Kirigiri did not appear pleased.

"You took your time," Kirigiri announced the obvious for the second time, her voice dangerously sharp.

Hajime's eye darted to the time and found that it was now 7:53. He had spent nearly ten minutes emptying his stomach into his toilet bowl. /Fuck.

"And did not even bother to get dressed. Did you fall back asleep?"

Hajime knew it wasn't a question, but felt compelled to defend himself. He opened his mouth to respond, but Makoto waved his hand and spoke before he could.

"It does not matter. You are here now. Give your report, I am already late for another meeting and really do not have anymore time to waste." Makoto's voice was unusually cold and strung tight. Hajime had made him very late for a meeting. Hajime couldn't tell if his gut was clenching from the nausea or the guilt, but it didn't matter.

He quickly launched into his report, desperately hoping he wouldn't vomit all over the desktop.

Once the meeting was over, and he had been given another reprimand, he slowly picked himself up out of the chair and stumbled to the door. His next meeting wasn't until noon with the Patrol unit, so he had time to return to his room and clean himself up. He knew he should probably got to breakfast, but the idea of food made his stomach clench and he decided against it. He swung open the door, leaning heavily on the handle, when he realized someone was outside of it. Before he could register who it was, he straightened up and wiped the grimace off of his face. He couldn't let anyone know.

Komaeda pushed off the hallway wall he was leaning on and froze when he saw Hajime. "Oh shit, you look awful," he blurted.

"Thanks," Hajime grunted, rolling his eyes, and started down the hallway to his room. He heard Komaeda scramble to catch up behind him and within a moment he was walking backward in front of Hajime.

"I mean, you just look so sick, you don't look bad Hinata-kun, you never do- I mean well, I just meant that-"

Hajime felt another wave of nausea tear through him and he was forced to stop walking. He folded his arms over his chest to play off needing to put pressure on his stomach and attempted to mask his grimace as a scowl of annoyance at Komaeda.

Komaeda immediately snapped his mouth closed and stopped walking. "Sorry," he apologized quickly. "I just-"

"Why are you here?" Hajime grunted. He didn't mean for it to come out as harsh as he did, and couldn't help but feel bad when Komaeda flinched at his tone.

"Sorry... you just skipped dinner last night... and then you weren't at breakfast... so I was just... worried... I know I am sorry that sounds super stalkerish, like I am watching you or something, but I was so worried that you got hurt or something because you never miss meals, even if you don't eat and I am so sorry for pointing that out I am just-"

"No, thank you Nagito." Hajime found himself thanking the rambling boy before he could stop himself. After the morning he had, being yelled at and just feeling shitty for fucking up, the kind words made him feel better more than he liked to admit. "But you don't have to worry, I'm fine." Hajime moved to walk past Komaeda, but Komaeda caught his arm. If Hajime had been feeling better, he could have easily brushed him off. But for some reason, Hajime couldn't find the strength to break away.

It didn't matter though, Komaeda hissed and pulled his hand back quickly. "You are burning!" He raised a hand to Hajime's face and pressed his hand to his forehead before Hajime could smack his hand away. "You definitely have a fever."

Hajime's stomach dropped. He knew Komaeda was probably right, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it. "No, I told you, I am fine." Hajime stalked toward his room and let himself in, planning to slam the door behind him so that Komaeda did not follow him in, but at that exact moment, a violent wave of nausea hit him and he bolted to the toilet.

Hajime thought it was impossible to throw up nothing. But here he was, heaving over the toilet, nothing but spit falling in. As his entire body clenched and spasmed, he felt a soothing hand on his back. The presence beside him comforted him immensely; just knowing someone was there made this bout of vomiting just a bit more bearable than the first, even though it was worse.

Hajime wasn't sure how long he spent over the toilet, but he knew it was a while. After Hajime no longer felt the need to vomit up his entire stomach, he kept his head hidden in the bowl, unwilling to face Komaeda.

Komaeda stayed silent, rubbing Hajime's back. He gave him a moment, then curled his arms around Hajime's shaking torso. "Here," Komaeda said as he helped Hajime stand up. "You'll want to brush your teeth."

Hajime no longer had the energy to fight, so he just did whatever Komaeda told him to. He guided him through the motions of washing out his mouth, and allowed Komaeda to brush his teeth for him when it was apparent that his hands were shaking too bad. Komaeda took over wordlessly, not commenting on Hajime's shortcoming, but Hajime still had to close his eyes as Komaeda brushed his teeth for him. He wasn't sure what it was exactly, but he knew it was a combination of shame over how useless he was and the fact Komaeda was so close to Hajime's face. He kept his eyes squeezed closed as Komaeda prompted him to spit, and only opened them once Komaeda began to lead him to the bed.

To be very honest, it was more like half dragging Hajime to the bed. Hajime couldn't seem to get his feet to work correctly, and it tore him up. As Komaeda sat him up on the bed and crouched to take off Hajime's shoes, Hajime found himself closing his eyes again. He didn't even ask me to try. He knows I can't do it. I'm fucking pathetic.

"Hey," Hajime felt a hand cup his face and he blinked his eyes open in surprise. He almost shut them again when he realized Komaeda was mere inches from his face. He could feel Komaeda's warm breath fan his own flushed face, and felt Komaeda's thumb wipe away tears he did not know he had shed. Hajime felt so weak and small, but when he looked into Komaeda's eyes, he got lost in the genuine sincerity they held. "It's okay. I want to help."

How did he? Hajime's mind was swirling. Had he said that out loud? He wasn't sure anymore. He was too overwhelmed to fight back at anything, so he just nodded weakly. He let Komaeda take off his shoes and turn him to lay down on the bed. He didn't fight when Komaeda got up to get him water and something to swallow; he just took it.

As Komaeda pulled the covers over Hajime, he finally realized what was happening.

"Wait, meeting..." he protested weakly, trying to sit up, but collapsing back onto the bed when his vision blurred and spun.

"I'll take care of it," Komaeda insisted. He pressed Hajime down into the covers and placed a wet towel on his forehead. Hajime didn't know where Komaeda had found it or gotten it, but he was grateful nonetheless.

"They can't... I'm not..." Hajime struggled to form words as exhaustion tugged at his mind.

"Don't worry," Komaeda smiled, shushing Hajime. "I won't tell them. It will be our secret."

Hajime knew that he should have been creeped out by that, just like all his peers would have been, but Komaeda's reassuring words and kind actions overwhelmed him. Hajime chalked it up to him being sick. He was probably delirious, and that was the reason why he felt like kissing Komaeda. It was the fever and not because he liked him, because he didn't.

"Thank you, Nagito," Hajime muttered with a small smile, his eyes closing before he could gauge Komaeda's reaction.

After that, Hajime fell into a deep sleep, no longer able to keep himself up for another second.

#komahina #hinakoma #super dangan ronpa 2 #sickfic #danganronpa #nagito x hajime #komaeda x hinata #Nagito Komaeda #Hinata Hajime #i love my little men #take a nap hajime :( #i feel like komaeda would be so good at taking care of sick people cause he was sick so often so he knows what to do to help #anyways #exams are over #mostly #for now lol #so ill just be posting rando stuff if id dont get requests #okay ill stop ranting now lol

[soundofseventeen]

Call Call Call (Yoon Jeonghan)

Good evening! It’s a late post but it’s a post! (also who’s ready for Getting Closer music video tomorrow bc I am not okay onto goblin) -Erin

8.

8 phone calls.

That’s how many you had received today.

*

The first one was when you woke up. How Jeonghan had known exactly when you had managed to wake up, you still didn’t know. He always swears that you have a connection somehow, causing him to know just when you happened to wake up. Your eyes had barely opened when you heard the familiar ringtone. It wasn’t a long call, just long enough for him to wake you up, and start screaming into the phone. You giggled as he rolled off things you needed to do before you left for work. If he hadn’t been on tour and in another time zone, you know he would be far too tired to actually do this in the morning. He quickly ended it, having to run off to some event. You barely got 2 words in, but found yourself giggling after he hung up, suddenly wide awake.

*

The second was as you made breakfast. Your toast had just popped up when you heard the ringtone again. Smiling, you answered.

“You realize you just called me like, a half hour ago, right?” You smiled, and you heard a sigh and then a scream. “Uh… What was that?”

“Nothing, DK and Joshua are trying to rap battle again.” Jeonghan said, sounding annoyed but a small laugh escaping. “Listen, you have chop sticks shaped like light sabers right?” You froze for a second.

“Uh, yeah?” You opened the drawer, revealing the themed utensils. “Why?”

“Could you possibly send me a picture of them? No one believes that you’re that much of a nerd.”

“Well now I won’t.” You pouted, knowing full well that he couldn’t actually see you.

“Please? I’m sorry you’re not a nerd. Well, you are but you’re a cute nerd. In fact you are the most adorable nerd I’ve ever met.”

“Well played Han. Well played.” You laughed, pulling out the chop sticks. “Yeah, I’ll send you a picture in a bit. You could have texted me about this, you know?”

“...Yeah well you know. Thank you dearie.” You grinned as you heard the line click, starting to pull up the camera on your phone.

*

The third time he called you was shortly after lunch, and this time you were surprised to see it was a video call. Your job was slow, so your coworker agreed to let you go take the call, saying they would come get you if they needed you.

“Hey, what’s up?” You said, and were greeted with Jeonghan’s smiling face. His eyebrows lifted when he saw your uniform.

“Oh shoot, you’re at work! I can call you later!”

“No, no it’s okay! You called at the perfect time. What’s going on?” You smiled at him, and he looked to his side sheepishly.

“Well uh… Now this feels silly.”

“What?” He switched the camera view, and suddenly a big fluffy dog and Seokmin appeared on your screen.

“We wanted to show you this dog. It kind of reminds me of you, so Seokmin suggested I call you and show you.” You heard him say as Seokmin made the dog wave at the camera.

“Sweetie… Do you know who’s dog that is?” You asked, slightly concerned. The camera shifted to a nice couple, who both waved at the phone.

“Uh, these people? We saw them on a walk and you know, we see a dog…”

“Oh my god, you two be careful!” You laughed, and soon you saw Jeonghan’s face smiling back at you.

“We make no promises.” He smiled, and you heard Seokmin scream about something, distracting Jeonghan’s attention. It couldn’t have been so bad, because Jeonghan was still smiling.

“Okay, I have to go back to work. You tend to… that.” You said, getting ready to end the call.

“Okay! Work hard! Love you!” He yelled just before ending the call. You shook your head, heading back up to your coworker.

*

The fourth time was as you got out of work. You were walking to your car when your phone started to ring, and you smiled at the picture of you and Jeonghan on your screen.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” You said into the phone.

“Snuck to the bathroom really quick. You’re getting out of work, right?” He asked, and you grinned.

“Yeah, I’m walking to my car now. Is that the only reason you called?”

“Well, I usually pick you up from work, or call if I can’t leave the studio. I actually had an alarm set for about 2 minutes ago to call you.” He laughed, and you shook your head.

“Well thank you. I feel so much safer walking to my car talking to someone currently in another country.” You said, and you could feel the look Jeonghan was making right now.

“Why are you so sassy to me. What did I do to you?” You laughed out loud.

“Says the resident goblin of this relationship.” You added, and you heard Jeonghan gasp.

“Listen, I’d much rather kiss you when I get back, not fight you. So choose your words carefully, princess.”

“The goblin and the princess. Sounds like a bad children’s story.”

“Excuse you, it’s the greatest children’s story.” He defended, and you grinned, getting into your car.

“Alright, I gotta drive now. Go actually work, goblin.”

“Anything you say, princess.” He said, and then you put down your phone, shaking your head.

*

The fifth call was a telemarketer. Not really anything to report here.

*

The sixth one was as you made dinner, and wasn’t what you expected when Jeonghan’s caller ID came up.

“Before you say anything gross, this is Hoshi.” Soonyoung said, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“Hey Soon, what’s up?” You asked, slightly concerned.

“Nothing bad!” He said quickly, and you relaxed a bit. “Your boyfriend is being annoying, do you know the best place to tickle him?” He asked, and you giggled.

“Y/N! DON’T TELL HIM ANYTHING!” You heard in the background, and then you heard giggling, no doubt from Soonyoung.

“Please!” Soonyoung called, and you laughed. You thought about it for a second, then smirked.

“Aim for his sides.” You said, and then you heard a gasp and then loud laughter screaming.

“Y/N! I am going to get you when I get back!” You heard Jeonghan yell, and Soonyoung just laughing.

“Hannie, aim for the back of the neck, he’ll curl right in. Good luck!” You said, hanging up the phone, but not before hearing more screaming.

*

The seventh call was your mom. Again, not much to report. Usual mom stuff.

*

The eighth call woke you up. You squinted at your clock, confusion in your brain. It was Jeonghan calling, but it was 4 in the morning where he was. You hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep.

“Hey.” You groggily said, rubbing your eyes and stretching your shoulders.

“Oh shoot, were you asleep?” He said, and you shook your head, then realized you were on the phone.

“Not really. Just a small nap. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” You yawned, finally starting to wake up.

“I can’t sleep. I’m currently in the hotel lobby. Didn’t want to wake up Seok.”

“Babe, you have a big day tomorrow, you should get some sleep.”

“It’s okay, I’m good.” He added, but you couldn’t help but notice a yawn sound coming from him.

“So why are you calling?” You asked, leaning back onto your couch again. There was a brief pause, and you furrowed your eyebrows together. “Jeonghan?”

“Sorry…” He laughed, and you relaxed a bit. “I called because uh…” he said, pausing again.

“Hannie?” You asked, thinking he fell asleep.

“Yeah, I’m still here.” He responded. “I guess… I don’t really know why I called. I miss you. I just… needed to hear your voice, I guess.” He said, and you felt your face burn. Leave it to Jeonghan to make you flustered from across the world.

“I guess that’s an okay reason.” You said, and heard him chuckle.

“So, how was your day?” He asked, leading into a conversation about your day, then him explaining his day. After about a half hour, you noticed your own eyelids starting to droop. On the other end, you could hear the tired in Jeonghan’s voice.

“You sound tired, so I’m going to let you go to sleep.” He said, and you sighed.

“Only if you go to sleep.” You countered, and you could imagine him rolling his eyes.

“I’m already back at the room. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“You better, because we don’t do this enough.” You said, and got a tired laugh out of Jeonghan.

“Okay, go to sleep.”

“Good night goblin.” You sat up. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Thanks for staying up.”

“Thanks for calling. Good night.”

“Good night, princess.”

#seventeen #seventeen au #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagine #seventeen drabbles #seventeen oneshot #seventeen x reader #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #jeonghan au #jeonghan fic #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagine #jeonghan drabbles #jeonghan oneshot #jeonghan x reader #seventeen jeonghan

[frywen-babbles]

Sounds of Silence pt1

A/N: Modern AU with Mitsunari! This is loosely tied to Everything comes with a price, set over a year after it. Unlike before, there won’t be a set release schedule bc this fic isn’t completely finished yet. (I just need some validation and motivation oTL). A big thank you to @dear-mrs-otome for telling me this idea doesn’t completely suck <3

Also spoilers for Mitsunari’s route!

When he opened the door all he could do was stare.

Behind it stood a young woman. And not just any young woman but the one he had seen at the library countless times reading books to kids in sign language. The woman he secretly always hoped he’d see when he went to the library, whose smile he couldn’t stop thinking about.

***

At first, Mitsunari was annoyed by the voices coming somewhere out of sight. Libraries were supposed to be where you could study in peace, he had no idea what could cause such a ruckus.

The sound of laughter guided him to the children’s section of the library, but what he saw wasn’t what he expected.

A young woman was standing in front of a group of kids, a book open in front of her, animatedly reading the book in sign language. The kids were excited, laughing and giggling at the what he assumed were the exciting parts of the story.

Mitsunari felt enamoured, his annoyance long forgotten. He didn’t even realise he had stared until the story was over and all the kids were circling her, trying to talk to her all at once. Her smile brightened her face and she looked so natural and happy amongst the kids Mitsunari felt almost jealous.

Just then, she caught him staring. He felt his face heat up and he turned around sharply, stomping back to the table he had reserved for himself. He planted his face firmly on the book open in front of him.

Gods, that was embarrassing. Who goes around staring random women, when they were supposed to study. Ughh…

*****

He saw her walk towards the children's section from the corner of his eye and somehow his head turned to look after her. She stopped to wait for a boy in his teens to bounce all excited to her a book in his hands. They shared a greeting but Mitsunari couldn't follow the signs they spoke with. It didn't stop him from staring after them when they continued on their way towards the room where he had seen her read to the kids.  

"Hey, are you even listening to me?"

Mitsunari turned to look at Sakon who looked at him a wide smile on his face.

"Or are you too busy staring after women to tutor me?"

"If you have time to lazy around and comment on everything I do, you must be ready for a quiz about all the important battles post-Honno-ji?"

"Ack! No! Don't you have any mercy, we just went through them 30 minutes ago?"

"Then what are you doing fooling around, you incorrigible dimwit. Get back to studying."

"I'm sure no one would have made me work this hard in the Sengoku period..." Sakon mumbled with a sigh.

"What was that?"

"I'm studying!"

When he was finally free of Sakon, he made his way to the children's section. But it was quiet, the children long gone. He was just about to turn around when he noticed a schedule on the wall. She would be back in an hour.

He could wait for that long.

Wait, maybe he shouldn't? Would that be weird? But he really did want to see her read again.  

He didn't see her until he got up to get some coffee from a vending machine. She was sitting on the sofas next to it with the same boy as before, lost in an animated discussion he could only guess the topic off.

A part of him wanted to loiter so he could watch them talk, but the reasonable part of his brain forced him to return to his table.

As soon as he saw her followed by the silver-haired boy he stuffed his things to his bag and stood up to follow her. A group of excited kids were already waiting for her but he stayed behind until everyone had sat down. Then he stepped behind the parents by the door, his eyes following the movements of her hands taking in every sign.

Unlike before, this time when she was finished she kept glancing at the clock and hurried away as soon as possible, almost colliding with him. The silver-haired boy tried to stop her but after some hurried signs let her go. The look on the boys face looked a bit like a lost puppy and for some reason seeing her hurry away like that made Mitsunari feel a bit same.

He was brushing his teeth in the evening when he felt the buzz of his phone in his pocket.

[23:12:45] <<bookshy>> do u evr feel like ur stuck in ur life? [23:12:52] <<bookshy>> like u shld hve accomplishd so much mor in ur life tn u hve?

He stared at the screen for a while before he typed a reply. He didn't know who bookshy was, not really. They had been talking with each other for years, but always with nicknames, always through messages in the internet. It felt more comfortable that way somehow. Knowing there was always a person willing to listen to you without judging.

[23:13:05] <<ManjuDreamer>> Are you feeling like that right now? [23:13:07] <<bookshy>> ya [23:13:11] <<bookshy>> i dunno wht ill do w/ my life [23:13:19] <<bookshy>> i thght id do so mch more u know? [23:13:22] <<bookshy>> and now i jst feel liek im stuck nd see no way out [23:13:23] <<bookshy>> is ths my life now? [23:14:50] <<bookshy>> evry1 says i shld b happy w/ wht i hve [23:14:59] <<bookshy>> i hve so much im feeling ungrateful whn i feel like ths [24:15:46] <<ManjuDreamer>> You still have plenty of time to accomplish your dreams. It's not for others to decide when you can be happy. [23:16:02] <<bookshy>> guess ur rite

He heard a knock on the bathroom door and quickly finished brushing his teeth. When he opened the door Hideyoshi was standing behind it already in his pyjamas.

"I thought you'd never come out," he commented with a yawn and pushed past him to the bathroom.

"Good night," Mitsunari wished to the closed door before he retreated back to his room.

[23:18:30] <<bookshy>> how was ur day [23:18:49] <<bookshy>> i saw the prettiest person today like hot damn [23:19:13] <<ManjuDreamer>> I saw an interesting person today too, I wish I get to see them again. Other than that, it was mostly my student being an idiot, so nothing new. [23:19:53] <<ManjuDreamer>> I tried to do some research on a paper I'm writing, but it didn't progress much. I was just about to go to bed so I have energy to study more tomorrow. [23:19:56] <<bookshy>> srry to keep u up [23:19:57] <<bookshy>> night! [23:20:10] <<ManjuDreamer>> Night.

***

Mitsunari tossed the wig from his head frustrated, running his hand over his face. He glanced at the mirror of the bathroom, at the perfectly drawn eyeliner, the perfect shade of blush, the perfectly applied foundation. The perfect set of lies, painted on his face.

[13:33:14] <<ManjuDreamer>> I went to see my mother.

He hesitated a bit before he sent the message. It didn't take long for his phone to bling with a reply.

[13:34:29] <<bookshy>> how did it go? [13:34:48] <<ManjuDreamer>> As well as you would expect. [13:34:51] <<bookshy>> u wanna t alk about it?

His fingers ghosted over the screen of his phone before he put it down and looked at the mirror again. He reached for the makeup removal wipes from his bag and scrubbed furiously at his skin until the last remains of the makeup were gone.

[13:36:18] <<ManjuDreamer>> She's there but I feel like I'm losing her. [13:37:01] <<ManjuDreamer>> Every time I visit she seems further and further away. [13:37:15]<<ManjuDreamer>> Sometimes I wonder if the mother I used to know is there at all.

He started to type his next message, but stopped, gripping his phone tight in his hand.

[13:38:34] <<ManjuDreamer>> She's my mother, but it's so hard. [13:38:42] <<ManjuDreamer>> I don't know what to do.

He glanced at the mirror to make sure his eyes weren't red before he pulled his shirt over his head and replaced it with one from his bag.

[13:38:47] <<bookshy>> ur doing plenty already [13:38:49] <<bookshy>> u dont have to push urself so hard [13:38:50] <<bookshy>> im sure shed understand [13:38:59] <<ManjuDreamer>> But I'm all she has. [13:39:02] <<bookshy>> i know [13:39:06] <<bookshy>> but u hhave 2 thnk abt urself frst [13:39:15] <<bookshy>> if u feel its too much u can keep a brek. ur not prfect. u dnt have 2 b [13:39:50] <<bookshy>> im alws hr 2 tlk if u need me [13:40:20] <<ManjuDreamer>> Thank you. It means a lot.

He put his phone on the side of the sink and wiggled out of his skirt. He really should buy a new one next time he got paid for tutoring. The zipper didn't work properly anymore and the hem was starting to fray. He kicked the flats from his feet and looked at the kneehigh socks on his feet. They wouldn't be visible under his pants anyway so he let them be and took his pants and shoes from his bag before showing the skirt and shirt in their place. He considered showing the wig in after them but realised making the wig presentable after that would be too much of a hassle. So he gently combed the wig with his fingers to sort out biggest tangles and folded it neatly in a mesh bag. Flats into a plastic bag, then into the bag.

Like countless times before.

He got dressed and made one final glance at the mirror before he put the bag on his shoulder and stepped out of the bathroom.

"Oh, Mitsunari! Here to see your mother?" a nurse greeted him when he tried to slip past the nurses' office without being noticed. What a nosy bunch of quidnuncs insistent of mothering him.

“Yes. I was just leaving.” He replied with a stiff bow.

“Come and have some tea with us! How did the test go you told me last time?” Another nurse poked her head from the office. Mitsunari resisted the urge to roll his eyes and offered another bow.

“I believe it went well. I still haven’t received the results.”

Half an hour later he was still stuck at the nurses' office surrounded by what felt like a flock of mother hens, all determined to squeeze every bit of information out of him they could. He was just getting up from his chair when a voice behind him froze him on the spot.

"Did my darling Saki leave already? She was just here... Such a dutiful daughter, coming to see her mother so often..."

His knuckles turned white as he squeezed the edge of the table, his head down. He wanted to turn around. He wanted to see his mother as himself. He wanted... needed to see if she'd recognise him this time.

"We saw her leave a while ago, Mrs Ishida. She's such a nice girl."

He heard a nurse walk his mother away and the sighs of relief from the remaining nurses.

"Are you alright, Mitsunari? You know we'll listen to you if you need to talk. Or we can help you find someone-"

"I need to go now. Goodbye," Mitsunari interrupted the nurse who had put her hand on his shoulder to calm him. He got up in such haste his chair fell to the floor with a rattle, but he just offered a quick bow before he fled the office.

He didn't stop until he arrived at the bus stop. There he sank on the bench, burying his face on his hands.

He took the bus to the library, staring idly out of the window.

[14:36:09] <<bookshy>> did u make it home [14:36:35] <<ManjuDreamer>> No. I'm heading to the library. The nurses got me again. [14:36:37] <<bookshy>> lol how did u mnage 2 escpe [18:36:56] <<ManjuDreamer>> Mother came to the office. [14:37:09] <<bookshy>> oh no [14:37:10] <<bookshy>> im so sorry [14:37:21] <<bookshy>> how r u feeling rn? [14:38:29] <<ManjuDreamer>> I don't know. I'll try to find some reading to distract myself with.

At the library, he searched for materials for his upcoming paper but when he sat down and tried to read, the words didn't make any sense.

When he had read the same page several times over and still remembered absolutely nothing he was interrupted from his reading by a book shoved on top of the one he was just reading.

"Can't you see I'm-!" the sharp words died on his lips when he saw the same woman who had read to the kids in front of him. She tapped on the note on top of the book and he looked down to read it.

'This is the book I was reading. You seemed interested'

She handed him a second book, a note on top of it too.

'I'll read this next'

When she shifted her weight from one foot to another clearly uncomfortable, he realised he was staring. He offered her a curt nod as a thank you and she bowed at him a small relieved smile on her lips. She seemed to hesitate before she signed something but he had to shake his head.

There was a slight shift on her smile, on her posture, and she took a step back.

'I'm sorry' she mouthed and offered him a bow before she all but fled, leaving him to sit alone, feeling like an idiot.

[16:19:20] <<ManjuDreamer>> I think I just made a complete fool out of myself. [16:29:59] <<bookshy>> lol rly? [16:30:00] <<bookshy>> wht did u do? [16:30:02] <<bookshy>> i thght fool wasnt in ur dicktionary [16:31:18] <<ManjuDreamer>> And for that terrible joke, I tell you nothing. [16:31:47] <<bookshy>> noooo hw wll i evr know how embarassng u can be if u don tell me? [16:32:32] <<ManjuDreamer>> You'll survive.

***

"She's not here today."

Mitsunari was startled from his thoughts by a familiar voice behind him. He turned around, vaguely aware of the frown his irritation had brought on his face.

"Who?" he asked as if he didn't know exactly who was the 'she' in question.

"I got this for you, I'm sure it holds some useful information." Mr Otani handed him a flyer for the children's activities in the local libraries. Mitsunari stared at the flyer blankly before he looked at Mr Otani, letting his irritation show.

"And what am I supposed to do with this?"

Mr Otani just smiled and pushed a book towards him as well.

"I'm sure you'll find this useful as well. Come find me if you need anything else."

Before he had time to protest Mr Otani left him with a wave, a wide smile on his face. He considered running or yelling after him, but changed his mind when he looked at the book in his hand.

'Sign language for beginners'

He tucked the children's program leaflet securely at the back of his calendar and checked the book out.

Something about the sign language intrigued him. She looked so graceful when signing. And so comfortable and she seemed genuinely love reading to the children.

At first, he thought he’d look up a few signs. Just in case some of the children needed help in the library. Just so he could talk to her. No, he meant the kids. So he could talk to the kids. But few turned into a few hundred. A few thousand. He was so lost.

***

#slbp #slbp fanfic #ishida mitsunari #toyotomi hideyoshi #voltage fanfic #frywen writes #sounds of silence fic

[parkerstylesperalta]

making art is therapy bitches

I got inspired by my own sadness tonight and wrote a little something with Tom. 

Warning: lots of angst. mostly angst. a slight hint of floof. also, 1.5k of shitty writing. 

my first fic type thingy ever! woohoo!

A year and a half. Time heals all wounds, they said. But the cut still felt sore in your chest every time Tom’s name popped up on your screen. How’s school? It was innocent enough, and with him being in a relationship there was nothing you could do about your aching heart.

Tom and you had broken up on not so good circumstances nearly a year and a half ago. It was a bad break, and both you, him, and your friends felt the shockwaves of the aftermath. After years of friendship and a long-lasting relationship, the end shook up your life. You didn’t talk for a long time, then fought, and then were friends, more fighting, then strangers again for a while. The back and forth of your feelings towards him gave you whiplash.

So Valentine’s Day obviously was a rough one, when you woke up to a text from him. Nothing mentioning the holiday, just a text talking about your major in college, and what you’d been up to. But on social media, his girlfriend was posting about him and the comment on her photo that he left broke you just a little further. Why, if he had moved on to someone else, was he choosing to continue to talk to you? You wanted to ask him- to call him out and just know why he felt the need to continue with you when so much in your lives has changed. It didn’t feel fair. It wasn’t.

You talked for almost three weeks, and constantly. What’s the winter storm at home putting you through? Any new auditions coming up? Simple. Nothing new. But it hurt- it felt normal. Consistent responses, and every day. Things progressed to talking about your career, your hopes and dreams. What made you want to pursue this field? I need advice about something. It felt like the good old days when you were together, and life was different.

A drunken night out led you to confess to your friends your constant back and forth with Tom, and your best friend nearly lost it at the news. You pulled up the texts and showed her. If she knew, she might as well know it all.

“y/n, what are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” you confessed.

“He fucked you over, babe,” your friend hiccupped. “You’re just going to be sad.”

“I think I still love him, I mean how can I not? He’s texting me about nothing but at the same time I feel like its everything because its how we talked when we were together,” you drunkenly rambled.

“You’re always gonna love him, he was your first.”

“I know. Its stupid. She’s there now and he obviously doesn’t need me or love me anymore soooo,” the words slurred together.

Your best friend laughed. “It’s not stupid. And bitch… why would he be texting you all the time... and on Valentine’s day... if he didn’t care anymore?”

 Two weeks earlier…

Tom sat on the couch, phone in hand, Harrison on the other side of the couch and Harry laying on the ground in front of the TV. Fifa blared as loud as possible and Harry cursed out Harrison for screwing him over in the game at the end of the round.

“Alright Tom, your turn,” said Harrison, handing him the controller.

“Nah mate you play another. I’m good for now,” he said, not looking up from his phone.

Harry flipped around to look at him. “You’ve barely played tonight. Stop texting Annie for five minutes and play, Tom.”

Tom sighed. “You should be glad I’m not playing. Because if I was, you would not be winning right now. And i’m not texting Annie, for the record.”

“Then who the hell are you talking to? You haven’t stopped staring at your phone for a damn week,” Harrison called out.

“Nobody,” Tom flushed angrily.

“Oh shit,” Harry chuckled and looked over at Harrison with a smug grin.

“What?”

“Its y/n, isn’t it?” Harry teased. Harrison’s eyes lit up with recognition.

“Why would I be-“ argued Tom.

Harrison leapt across the couch and snagged Tom’s phone out of his hand.

“Aye! Fuck off!” Tom protested, reaching for the phone while Harrison blocked him from grabbing it.

“No way. It is y/n! Since when are you two talking again? Does Annie know? Shit- you aren’t doing anything stupid right?” Harrison quizzed.

Tom groaned. “No. I am not being stupid, okay?”

“So what does this mean?” Harry smiled.

“Nothing!” Tom sighed. “Nothing. I just… I don’t know. Annie has just been really frustrating lately and… y/n is always here for me. Even after I fucked with her head.”

The boys groaned in unison.

“Mate, you can’t just go back to her when your new girlfriend isn’t doing it for you. That’s fucked up,” Harrison lamented.

“I know. I’m not going back to her, okay? It just feels good to talk to her like we used to. It’s never really been that way with Annie.”

“So you still love her?” asked Harry.

“Of course I do,” Tom confessed.

 And back to the night on the town…

 You felt your phone vibrate slightly on the counter, and you looked down to see a call had just ended. Quickly you grabbed it and went to the call log.

“Shit. No no no no shit!” You panicked.

“What?” you best friend asked.

The call log showed your last activity-

One call with Tom. Two minutes and fourteen seconds.

You froze. “I… butt dialed him. I just fucking- HE HEARD ALL OF THAT CONVERSATION, Y/F/N!”

“Oh no.” your best friend processed what had happened.

“Oh no?! This is a BIT MORE than oh no. This is, I’m dead. I’m absolutely dead and should go lay on the street for the buses I’m dead. Oh my god.” You began to pace the bar.

“y/n it’s okay! He probably could tell you were drunk and is just gonna ignore it. Or maybe he didn’t really hear everything!” she reasoned with you.

You felt sick to your stomach. “I need to go home.”

The uber back to your apartment was quiet and uncomfortable, and the driver blasting 80’s rock at its fullest volume did not help your situation no matter how catchy Africa was.

When you arrived at your apartment building, you had almost sobered up minus some lingering fuzziness inside your head. You walked up the two flights of stairs, and as you were turning the corner to your room you rifled through your bag for your key. They clinked as you pulled them out and went for the keyhole.

“Hey.” A voice behind you made you squeal in fear.

“Fuck!” you flipped around quickly, only to be met by messy brown curls and eyes you hadn’t seen in a while.

You paused. “What.. what are you doing here?”

“Hi to you too, y/n,” Tom smiled shyly. “I uhm… I got your call.”

Your heart sank to your stomach. “…course you did. Listen, Tom, I was drunk and emotional and I am so sorry that you had to hear-“

“I want to talk.” He stepped closer to you and cut you off.

“Why? So I can be even more embarrassed than I am already?” you huffed.

“Annie and I broke up. A week and a half ago.” Tom spilled.

“And..?”

“Y/n I know that I fucked up. Bad. But I can’t stop myself from wanting to talk to you and be around you like we used to. And I know that I in no way deserve that from you. I just want that drunk voice in your head that I just heard to be the real y/n that I know. I miss you- and I don’t expect anything from you but I just needed you to know that. It wasn’t her.” He rambled.

“What wasn’t her?” your voice cracked and betrayed you.

“She wasn’t… I didn’t start dating her because it was her. I started dating her because I didn’t have you and I needed someone. But it’s always been you that I want.”

You stayed silent.

“I know that’s fucked up.”

“It is.” You agreed.

He ran his hands through his hair. “I should’ve… fuck I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry.” Tom turned to leave.

You grabbed his wrist to stop him and he turned around with wet eyes.

You took a deep breath.

“I’m not saying that any of this is okay, or that I forgive you, or anything.” He bowed his head further. “But- I miss you. I’m stupid and I miss you.”

“So what does that mean?” he questioned.

“I think… I think you need time. You need a while to figure you out, and maybe after that, I’ll be here,” you said.

“Time,” he smiled.

“I mean we’ve had plenty… what’s a little more?” you chucked a bit.

“Thank you, y/n,” he said sincerely.

“Boy, you have nothing to thank me for yet.”

He smiled and grabbed your hand. “Thanks for butt dialing me,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes and slipped your hand out of his. “I’ll text you in the morning.”

“Okay. Night, y/n,” he agreed with a nod.

“Night, Tom,” you said, turning the key and walking inside.

A month passed, and after that time the texting became a coffee date. And the coffee date turned into dinner, and dinner turned into five. Time heals all wounds, they say. And even after a deep cut, you finally agreed with that.

  tagging my queen @wazzupmrstark bc she’s my boo hi

#tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland #tom holland angst #tom x reader #rip #this is sadly based off of my life lmao #bye #this is stupid #but writing is the best therapy bitch

[iridescentwinters]

elevators

— prompt: hi, could u write a prompt where daniel and grace used to be bff but grew apart and now they get stuck in an elevator together, grace calms him down bc has claustrophobia (which he hasn't told to anyone) and eventually confess their feelings for each other? thanks you!! Ps: your writing is amazing 💘

grace remembered the day she met daniel.

as cliché as it sounded, they were both kids, playing at the park.

daniel had slipped off the swing’s seat and fell pretty harshly on the ground, which caused him to just sit there and cry his heart out. while everyone else only crowded around him and laughed at his misfortune and also for being a ‘crybaby', grace was the only one who helped him up, and also yelled at everyone to ‘piss off’ (her vocabulary was already getting pretty colourful from that age). even though she was only a tiny 8 year old, she knew that daniel needed a bandaid for his bruise, and luckily for him, she always had one with her, also because her mom made her carry it around. while the two sat at the bench, they exchanged names, and that was only the beginning of their friendship.

once daniel hit high school, some people from his batch started to change for the worse. and unfortunately, he was one of those people. he had gotten a lot more good looking over the years, and his arrogance and ego had inflated as well. he started making popularity his priority over grace. and eventually, he ditched her, saying that he couldn’t ‘hang out with little kids’ anymore. which was incredibly stupid, since she was only 2 years younger than him.

grace remembered feeling a lot more hurt than she had expected herself to feel. it was definitely because of the unspoken feelings she harboured for him throughout their friendship. how could she have not? daniel was the epitome of prince charming, both inside and out. unfortunately, it only turned out to be only on the outside.

other than becoming a complete asshole, daniel also became a large playboy. grace was sure that was the only reason he started talking to her again after she reached high school, because all he ever did was just hit on her. and that made her even more miserable about their failed friendship.

the last time she properly talked to him was when he had publicly called her beautiful (which embarrassed the crap out of her), and she was sure she’d never have to talk to him again.

until her dance team was invited to represent the football team at one of their games at another state, and that they had to stay at the same hotel.

even then, though, she managed to avoid talking to him at all costs.

it was their last night at the hotel and of their trip, and grace had to make a quick stop at her hotel room to get her wallet, which she had forgotten.

she dashed towards the elevator as soon as she saw it almost come to a close. her friends were waiting for her outside, and she didn’t want to make them wait for too long. “hey!” she called out to the person inside, who heard her, and pressed on the open button.

she let out a breath as she entered and pressed her floor number. “thank y-“ she stopped as soon as she caught sight of daniel. he smirked, while she immediately scowled. great.

“nice to see you too, gracie.” he greeted, and grace rolled her eyes. “don’t call me that.” she snapped. it was a ridiculous nickname he’d given her years ago, and he still insisted on using it, although he lost all privileges to.

her eyes shot towards the number displayed on the elevator’s screen. 3. grace was on the 6th, while daniel was on the 5th.

okay, just 2 more floors… she coaxed herself.

“come on, talk to me, gracie.” daniel took a step closer to her, “i want to-“ the elevator suddenly staggered and made some kind of noises, before completely coming to a stop. the lights in the elevator also flickered, before completely turning off.

when the situation registered in daniel’s mind, he took a step back from grace, his eyes flashing a few emotions all at once. he was shaking with worry, and in terror. he started hyperventilating.

grace immediately knew what was going on. his claustrophobia had been triggered.

she immediately grabbed ahold of his wrists, yet kept a safe distance away from him, and made him sit down on the floor. “hey now, daniel, listen to me.” she gently coaxed the shivering boy. “listen to me, okay? breathe.”

“i-i can’t, gracie.” daniel stuttered. this time, he really meant to say her nickname. it wasn’t to make fun of her, but rather, to seek comfort in her.

“yes you can. listen to me count, and breathe, okay?” she asked. when he gave a frantic nod, she started counting. “1, breathe in,” when he inhaled, she continued to count slowly, “2, 3. breathe out.” he exhaled. they repeated this process a few more times, before daniel found his middle point, and was now back to his normal breathing pace. his eyes were still shut, and grace knew that he was visualising the park. it was the greenery of that place which always helped him calm down.

“how’d you remember what to do?” he asked softly. grace snorted, but had a smile on her face. “we’d been friends since forever. no one forgets things like these. not when your friend needed it for a pretty long time.”

daniel was silent, and felt sandbags of sadness fall on his shoulders. of course his idiotic freshmen self had to leave the only person that mattered behind for stupid things that didn’t matter anymore. he wished he never betrayed the only girl that he loved. she was the only one who made him feel loved, cared for. she made him feel human. and now, he had lost her. and he had no one to blame but himself.

“i’m sorry.” he blurted out, making the girl look up from the floor. “if i could, i would go back to the past and fix my mistakes. you have to believe me, grace. i would give up anything to do it.”

grace was still silent, so he took that as an opportunity to continue speaking. “and i mean what i say to you. you’re fucking beautiful, grace. inside and out. and i really, really want you, more than as a friend. i always have. but right now, i just want to be your friend again. i need you back in my life.” he had plead laced to his tone.

grace looked deep into his eyes, and he knew that she was analysing him for any lies. she always did that, and somehow, she could detect any lies just by looking into your eyes.

but she couldn’t. she couldn’t find nothing but honesty in his hazel-brown eyes. so when daniel pulled her closer and placed his lips against hers, she didn’t stop him.

the sense of nostalgia hit them both hard as soon as their lips met. it reminded them of the first time they kissed, and it was both their first kiss, when grace was 11 and daniel was 13. similar to their current situation, daniel was the one who initiated it, but grace had slapped him out of embarrassment after that. fortunately, this time, she didn’t.

it’s not like she had time to, either, because the elevator suddenly started to move, and had brought them down, back to the lobby. the doors opened, and suddenly, they were face-to-face with all of their peers, and coach henry.

grace froze. “erm, this was his fault!” she yelled out of defence, as she got up from the floor and pointed at him. daniel only laughed, not even bothering to argue with her.

all he cared about was that grace was finally giving him a chance, and he was going to make things right. he was going to do things the way he should’ve years ago.

TEARS. i miss grace and daniel

#skam austin #grace olsen #daniel williamsson #grace x daniel #move #wilsen #skamausmove

[ayy-to-zee]

Touch

masterlist //rules// request

Pairing: Haechan/ Lee Dong Hyuck X Reader

Genre: Fluff, super tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 1.9K +

Summary: 『 Touch seems to be just as essential as sunlight. 』- Diane Ackerman

『 I can’t even remember days without you or times I felt more comfortable alone... 』- NCT 127; TOUCH

☀️⭐✨☀️⭐✨☀️ ⭐✨☀️⭐✨☀️⭐

Lee Dong Hyuck certainly lived up to the name “Haechan.” It was a rather cute nickname that his CEO gave him the day he debuted as a part of NCT. Maybe it was part of because of his job as an idol, but to you, he “shone brightly” wherever he went.

That was what you’ve noted, seeing your boyfriend dance in his group’s Japanese debut music video. He definitely stood out to you more in this comeback, seeing him perform with such charisma and confidence. It disappointed you slightly that he didn’t have much of actual lines and mostly back-up vocals. You loved hearing his singing voice; it reminded you of the times he’d sing to himself when he busy cooking or traipsing around the grocery store aisles, looking around for condiments he thought you’d need for your rather bare pantry.

But, oh well, as long as Haechan is happy with his work and is giving his all in Japan at it, you’re happy, too.

You sighed, opening up your Messages app and tapping the first contact you’ve recently messaged:

📱📱[May 22, 2018, 23:45 PM]📱📱

You sent: heeellooooo my bootiful boyfriend ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡

hyuckiepoo sent: aaaaaaaand the bootiful boyfriend arrives~

hyuckiepoo sent: and jfc

hyuckiepoo sent: yuta’s taught you to use the kaomoji app, huh? that’s so old-school

You sent: I know but they looked cute! So why not?  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

hyuckiepoo sent: since you’re up at this time and texting me, you probably just watched the new jap mv even tho it was released 2 weeks ago. you didn’t mention it last time bc you didn’t watch it, right?

You sent: (´⊙ω⊙`)！

hyuckiepoo sent: you’re just that predictable, boo

You sent: (ง •̀_•́)ง Fight me if you dare, poo-

hyuckiepoo sent: calm thyself, boo. I get it, work was probably being an ass to you during that time, right? 乁( ◔ ౪◔)ㄏ

You sent: Now, you’re using it? (o`Ao)?

hyuckiepoo sent: It’s cute when I use it (◡ ‿ ◡ ✿)

You sent: Whatever you makes you sleep at night, hyuckie (∗´꒳`)

hyuckiepoo sent: Well? How was it? Did I charm you all over again? (๑‾̀◡‾́)

You sent: (u v u)

You sent: You looked real cute.

You sent: Like I wanted to pat your head during your center time.

hyuckiepoo sent: YAH. 

hyuckiepoo sent: YOU STILL STUCK IN TOUCH?

hyuckiepoo sent: THIS IS A SEXIER CONCEPT. EMPHASIS ON THE S E X Y.

hyuckiepoo sent: I DID NOT PRACTICE LOOKING AT THE CAMERA FOR A MONTH TO BE THOUGHT OF AS CUTE BY MY OWN GIRLFRIEND

☀️⭐✨☀️⭐✨☀️ ⭐✨☀️⭐✨

You laughed aloud in your bedroom, surprised at his quick response to your comment and the sudden lack of kaomojis. You started rolling over on your bed at the thought of him just practicing what his face must have looked like. He probably got advice from either Taeyong or Yuta.

Okay, you admitted, the first half of the time that he appeared, he looked really... really cool, but—

☀️⭐✨☀️⭐✨☀️ ⭐✨☀️⭐✨

You sent: BUT YOU LOOKED TINY WITH THAT BEAN POLE DANCING BEHIND YOU

You sent: DON’T PROVE ME OTHERWISE

hyuckiepoo sent: I CAN’T HELP THAT JOHNNY WAS PLACED BEHIND ME

hyuckiepoo sent: YOU-

hyuckiepoo sent: U W U

hyuckiepoo sent: Because I am a kind af boyfriend and am just that nice, I will not fly all the way back to Seoul to hit you

You sent: Yes, hyuckie poo, you are the best bf ever u v u

hyuckiepoo sent: But that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, boo

You sent: O v O !!

hyuckiepoo sent: Love me tons when I come back, k? We’ll see if I forgive you then. I want 10x the cuddles.

You sent: Yes, yes, the love of my life, I will spoil you rotten ( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°⑅

hyuckiepoo sent:  y o u b e t t e r (๑◕ㅂ▰)～♥

📱📱[-END CONVO-]📱📱

You smiled at the thought, him being back home. Your playful bickering together, your late night movie dates, your trips to the arcades and amusement parks, your day-long cuddling sessions, you waking up next to him the morning after a sleepover—

You stared at his contact photo in your messages before you looked to your other SNS accounts for pictures of him doing well in Japan. You chuckled bitterly as you scrolled down each feed. He really was a “full sun,” indeed, you thought, dropping your phone weakly onto the bed with a fan camera focused on him playing on the screen. 

Even though you sounded so close to each other, he felt so... unreachable.

Even though you two called yourselves a couple, the both of you were just so far apart from each other nowadays.

Yes, you guys were together for three months, but you barely spend any physical time together. Most of your time was spent online. Those dates where you actually got to be together you had happened only once in every blue moon just because your schedules just happened to give you both time off.

Even with all that, you had no reason to doubt his love for you even when the distance between you was so wide. You knew the trials that came with dating him. You had no reason to think he was being unloyal to you. He proved his love for you every single day and didn’t make you feel unhappy. 

So why did it still hurt you so much?

You felt the back of your eyes sting. You sniffed your nose and wiped your eyes immediately with your sweater sleeve. Nope. You were not going to cry about this again. Yes, it’s been nearly a month since you last saw each other but you knew what would happen if you agreed to date him. Three months ago, when you returned his confession, you figured this would eventually happen once you date someone so untouchable.

Your mind was brought back down to reality once you heard your ringtone blaring off from your phone. You wiped your eyes once again, picking up your phone and checking who was daring to call at nearly one in the morning.

📞📞“ hyuckiepoo is calling ”📞📞

What a fucking scare, you thought. It’s been quite a while since your last phone call with him. You sniffed again, clearing your sinuses to make sure your voice sounded at least normal enough and tapped the the green icon.

“Hyuck?”

“No, this is your social security service...” you rose a brow at the rather polite tone going off through the phone. “Yah! Of course it’s me, haha! Who else would be calling you?” You giggled at the sound of his voice. It’s been so long since you heard him laugh so heartily like that through the phone.

“Hm... Maybe Jeno? He said he’s going to call to check up on me since my boyfriend isn’t in Seoul to do that, anyway,” you mused, biting your bottom lip in expectation.

You heard him mock a scoff on the other side of the line. “‘Scuse me?!” you lightly snorted at his tone, disbelief laced into his voice. “Are you seriously talking to Jeno of all people behind my back?”

“W-Well...! What’s wrong with Jeno? He’s nice, isn’t he?” you asked, feigning innocence as you scooched over to grab the stuffed toy Dong Hyuck gave you on your first date on your drawer before you let your back rest comfortably on the pillows.

It wasn’t all untrue. Jeno did keep you some company but it was mostly limited to meme-sending and you asking if your boyfriend will ever return, which he is honestly tired of hearing because:

📱📱[May 21, 2018, 20:45 PM]📱📱

jeno my child sent: why don’t you ask him yourself?? you text him all the time smh;;; now lemme sleep early today. being an mc tomo = tons of work

📱📱[-END CONVO-]📱📱

“Boo. News flash, if you don’t remember. He’s called Je-no fun for a reason,” you scoffed at his mockery. “But you could have called me during this week, I wanted to hear your voice even for a little bit...”

“Boy, he’s not that bad. His memes are practically golden, I guess,” you huffed, trying to play it away. You froze for a bit there at his statement, biting your lip nervously. Even if you did, you’d probably be too busy to answer my phone calls, anyway, said the anxiety and insecurity bubbling up in the back of your throat. You had so much excuses to give to make up for the fear of him getting tired of you eating you up during the past month.

“Fossilized gold, probably. I send you the best memes and you know it, boo,” Donghyuck huffed through the phone. “When did that guy ever send you anything that actually made you laugh? That’s right. Never, haha!”

“Sure you do, bub,” you said in rather light agreement as if to tease him just a bit more. You could already hear him tapping his foot in frustration on the bedroom floor of his hotel suite. The thought made you giggle a bit. You could imagine him walking around the entire dorm room just trying to look for reasons why you shouldn’t be talking to Jeno. 

After a few seconds of silence on the other side of the line, you expected him to start to talk about what the members did today, complain about his how tiring his performance was in the showcases they held, maybe ask you how you were doing at work, talk about what he saw in Japan that reminded him of you, or ask if you were sleeping enough at night. 

Instead you were caught off-guard by the next three words his voice emitted: “I miss you...” 

You didn’t know if you held your breath or not but that seriously took your breath away. “Hyuck...” you tried to speak in an attempt to try to play if off like you would usually do but he just interrupted you, beginning to voice himself out.

“Hear me out. It’s been a month by now since we last spent time together. I know I may have said that I’ve been okay in our texts. Well, I technically am but...” he continued, the cheery tone in his voice disappearing. You swore, it sounded like he wanted to cry.

“I couldn’t get my head off the thought of you... I keep trying to focus but I keep thinking back to the days when we would stay in each others arms all day... I want to hold your hand, hug you, kiss you... And when I think about you not being next to me, it hurts a lot...God, it’s cringy, what the hell, but I seriously can’t take it... I know our schedules suck like shit but I really really want to be with you so so bad... I want to see you...” 

All this time about you silently worrying about yourself being a burden and you failed to even see if your boyfriend felt the same. What a great partner you were, you bitterly thought to yourself. You bit your lip as it quivered, finding it hard to breathe as he continued to speak.

“Hey...?” As much as you wanted to quickly respond to him to assure that you were fine and not going to cry, you couldn’t. All this time of feeling so alone without him just pent up within you and finally let loose.

“Me, too, Dong Hyuck...” You  finally replied, your voice trembling with every second. “I miss you so so much...” you hiccuped, wiping your tears away. “It felt so lonely without you... I wanted to fly to you so bad but I didn’t want to get in your way... I didn’t want to feel like I was being a burden to you... I didn’t want you to get tired of me and not love me anymore...”

“Who said I’d stop loving you?”

Your eyes widened, hearing his voice simultaneously from different places, one from your phone and the other as if he was in the ... same room...

You whipped your head to see the very same Lee Dong Hyuck you fell in love with, roller bag handle in one hand, his phone in the other one. You remembered buying him the jacket and shirt he donned for his birthday. He pulled down the hood and pulled his black mask down, his eyes looking at you with such a loving gaze as he flashed you that grin that made you melt a thousand times over. 

“Surprise, I guess?” he said, shrugging his shoulders. A small laugh escaping his lips when he saw that you drop your phone on the bed. 

You immediately jumped off the bed, rushing over to pull him into your arms, feeling his warmth envelope you as he returned the favour with just as much fervor, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Gods, he couldn’t recall the last time he ever brought you into his arms like this. Did you always feel this soft and warm? He didn’t remember your hair getting longer either. Did you forget to trim your hair? Whatever, he didn’t care anymore.

“I missed you so much, Hyuck...” you murmured, your tears dampening that precious jacket you got him. Dong Hyuck could care less, anyway. You were here. Right beside him. That was all that mattered to him.

“... I missed me, too, haha,” you laughed softly against his chest, lightly hitting his shoulder before he pulled you away from him. “But I missed you more...” he breathes out, his voice shaky and desperate.

“I love you so so much, (Y/N)...” he whined softly, resting his forehead against your own before cupping his hands over your cheeks and leaning over to graciously plant kisses on your forehead, each of your cheeks, your nose, and each area at the side of your lips before pulling away to take a good look at your face, as if implanting the image of you into the very back of his head. Every crease, wrinkle and imperfection you had on you and were insecure about just made you seem so... so... you and Dong Hyuck wouldn’t have you any other way.

Being Haechan, the idol who “shone brightly” beyond your grasp, was definitely a huge part of his life. But you definitely cannot ignore the fact that behind the light shining brightly was the shadow of Lee Dong Hyuck, the witty, mischievous, brusque, yet soft-hearted man who declared he’d love you like there was no tomorrow.

Yes, your relationship was rather complicated and there was no telling if you both would last long. There will definitely come days where you’re forced to do nothing but watch him from afar and bask as he shines on stage like the star he was born to be.

All that mattered to you, though, were moments like these, where his touch was just as important as sunlight.

-END-

☀️⭐✨☀️⭐✨☀️ ⭐✨☀️⭐✨

A/N: Hello! This is my first time to post up or show any of my written works so comments/critiques/feedback of any sort is super helpful! >v<!!

#nct 127 #nct dream #nct haechan #haechan #lee donghyuck #nct oneshot #nct imagines #(( #cries #haechan is such a boo i love him sm #it's my first time writing for him so please have mercy on my soul q w q #i didn't expect it to be this long tbh #also #if I wrote him too ooc #i am sorry ;;v;; #okay #)) #ayy-to-zee #nct scenarios #nct oneshots

[spacyparker]

Unborn

MASTERLIST - PROMPT LIST

Request : “If you’re still taking requests could you do 27 and 33 with Tom?”

   + “Hey can you do a fic with #5 and #10 from your prompt list where Tom is the reader’s hubby and away on a press tour or something and she realized that she’s pregnant so she starts wearing his shirts he left bc she doesn’t was the media to find out before him?“ @karamelblobber 

+ “ooh prompt 10 with Tom?“

»  “Does he know about the baby ?“

»  “You’re paying a small price compared with what she’s going through.”

»  "Is that my shirt?“

Characters : Tom Holland x reader

Word count : 1.9k

A/N : I know one of the prompts is missing but its only because I will put it in part 2 (if you guys want one I mean ???). This is my longer imagine so far and it’s 1:00am and I’m tired so sorry if that’s kind of shit ! I hope you like it though !!! Don’t hesitate to send me asks or come talk to me, requests are still open. THANKS LOVE YOU

Keeping a secret was hard for you, especially when you were the only one knowing it, not having anyone to talk with about it. The more the days passed, the more you were desperate. And also the more your secret was becoming visible. You were expecting a baby, and it weight heavily on your cosncience. Hiding it to Tom was really hard, he had the right to know since he obviously was the father, but it just always felt like the wrong time to finally spill it. He was away for a couple of months now and you promised yourself you'd wait him to come back to you to tell him the great news.

You took a deep breathe before opening the front door. Going outside was always such a hard thing, you were always worried about what the paparazzi would get on their photos, a gust of wind and a good angle and your baby bump would be exposed in a few seconds. That's why you wore Tom's shirts since few weeks, it was large enough to not reveal your new curves. If he heard the news from magazines and not you, you didn't know how he would react. You knew it would be some sort of treason.

Paps' flashes were focused on you and you could barely see the way to your car. You tried your best not to put your hand on your belly, it was a reflex you started having since you knew you were pregnant, but doing it in front of these vultures was breaking your cover. You made it to your car, hoping none of the paparazzi got a revealing photo. Then you went to work all stressed as always.

Few hours after you came home from your day, ready to go to sleep and wrapped in your sheets, the reason of your stress called you on Skype. Tom's face appeared on the screen and you immediately smiled knowing it was hard for him to take time for you during his press tour.

“Hello darling.” He smiled at you and directly his dark circles became more visible. Your heart broke seeing him so tired, but his morning voice gave you goosebumps and the only thing you wanted was to wrap him in your arms to take a nap. “I thought I could say hi since I have few minutes before going back to work. How was your day, love ?”

You two were married for few months now, and you'd still blush each time he'd give you cute nicknames. “I worked all day, nothing interesting. Tell me about your days, they might be so much more exciting than mine.”

You saw Tom shrugged, his eyes focused on his screen seemed to read something. “Yes, I love learning about new cultures, but I hate that you're not here to learn with me.” You were going to respond but he cut you before you could. “Is that my shirt ?”

You instantly frowned. “Uhm, sorry what ?”

“There are pictures of you leaving the house. You look stunning but I look better in this shirt, sorry not sorry babe.” He giggled. Actually, his heart was warmed up by the fact you were wearing his stuff. He wasn't used to it, you only wore his clothes as pajamas, when no one was looking at you but him. Seeing you out in his shirt made him proud, and he was glad you did so. People wouldn't forget you were his.

You blushed, forced to lie. Well, it wasn't all a lie, because you felt that way, there were just some parts of the truth hidden in what you told him. “I've been missing you so much I wanted to have your smell wherever I'd go...”

Tom suddenly pouted. “Give me my shirt back you thief.” He joked. “The world needs to see how better I wear it.”

You laughed at him being such a little dork. You loved him, especially when he was starting to act like that. He seemed so vulnerable and childish. The man you fell in love with. “I love you even if you think you're better than me.” You admitted.

“I love you too. And... I already need to go. I'm glad I saw your face, darling. Can't wait to come back home !” He sent you kissed, and after new “I love you”s he hung up.

The day after, you took a deep breathe before opening the door. It was for sure a daily routine you couldn't wait to end. But now wasn't the time. Not having to go to work today, you decided to go on your yoga class. You joined the club few weeks ago, thinking you were stressing too much and knowing it wasn't good for the baby. When you'd found this class specialized for pregnant women, you didn't hesitate.

This lessons helped you very much, and if you could you'd go every day. You felt good there, not thinking about the reactions of everyone when they'd find out, plus you made some friends, which you were lacking of lately. Every woman was inspiring, with their own stories. It was really supportive to meet them once a week. You couldn't handle alone all of the stress you were getting from being pregnant, always asking yourself when to tell Tom since you didn't want him to worry about you and the baby while he was away. Anyways having a baby was the next step of your relation, you both never seriously talked about this before, you just jnew Tom wanted some kids, it wasn't surprising since he was from a happy loving big family. It was just that you were still young, he was always travelling for his work and you weren't sure you could take care of thebaby all by yourself.

You took care of keeping your secret in front of the paparazzi and reached your yoga class, saying hello to your friends and already feeling relaxed just by being there. 2 hours after you were home again, searching baby stuff on your laptop.

A Holland was on your screen again, but this time it was Nikki on your phone. You took it as it started vibrating.

“Y/N ! I heard the news ! Why didn't you tell me about it you secretive little thing !” You froze, there was no way she was talking about something else than your pregnancy, right ? “Congratulations sweetie ! I'm going to be a grandma thanks to you ! Oh my God, I just can't wait ! How long have you been keeping the secret ?!”

“What the... Where.. Where did you see that ?” Your voice was shaking of terror. If Nikki saw it, then the entire world could see it, including your dear hubby. “It can't be possible, you kidding right ? Please tell me you're kidding Nikki it can't be real !”

A silence took place between the two of you. You didn't mean to explain anything, Tom's mother immediately understood what was going on. “Does he know about the baby... ?”

“I'm so sorry Nikki.” Tears started falling down your cheeks. You told her everything, you told her the truth you were so afraid to admit to the world. Nikki didn't hesitate, she drove straight to your apartment as soon as she knew, glad she didn't call Tom first.

“I just couldn't tell him. You know how he is, he would... Nikki, I'm so sorry. It just never felt like the right time, I wanted him to be home, rested.” You couldn't stop crying, your hormones making matters worse. You were feeling like it was the end of the world. “He would have been worried, and now he's going to be both worried and mad at me ! I fucked up real bad, there's no way I can fix it !” “Well he's going to be a father, I hope he has the right priorities and will be more concerned about that than the fact you hid the truth from him.” Nikki's hand was on your shoulder, rubbing it to comfort you. She'd sometimes hug you, making you cry even more. She ws such a sweetheart, but you knew deep down she was mad at you too.

“He's so tired Nikki, I swear there's no way I can do well. He's all grumpy these days.”

“Anyways I'm here for you honey, if you need anything just ask. Thanks for carrying my grandchild, Y/N.” You nodded, and soon she left.

It didn't take long before your phone started vibrating again. You were in your bed, wrapped around your sheets, crying to death, but you managed to grab your phone. Without any surprise, it was Tom. You picked up the phone, shaking. Did he know ?

“Hey babe.” His voice seemed a little bith harsh than usual. Something was totally going up in his mind. “Is this for real ?” Your heartbeat suddenly stopped. “Are you really pregnant ?” He insisted on the last word, you could tell he was mad, and you figured he was creasing his nose while talking to you, trying not to explode.

“Tom.. Tom please listen I-”

“Listen to what, Y/N ?!” He cut you, understanding the rumor was true. “You lying to me again ? It's not the first time you hide such important things from me ! Haven't I told you to stop already ? I'm concerned ! I'm so fucking concerned, but it always looks like you put me off the important stuff when I'm away.”

It was hard to hear him say those things to you, acting like you didn't care about his opinion or like he wasn't anything to you. “Tom, darling...” Your voice was as shaking as your hands. You were so scared, scared of him being too mad he'd leave you. “I just wanted you to stay focus on your job...”

“And I wished I could have been here for my fucking baby ! Now tell me who knew.” Strict, he was so strict. You could tell your behaviour touched him deeply, his heart was broken because of you, because of your choices. Were you a bad person ?

“No one. It was only about me, Tom please, honey, don't be mad at me. Please I wanted to tell you myself, I didn't want it to happen this way.” Begging was the only think you could do now.

“I can't believe you hid it from me, Y/N ! You lied to me, you could have told me so many times but you prefered lying, again and again ! Seriously, Y/N, fuck you, you really ruined it all this time !”

You whined. What did he mean by that ? Was he leaving you ? You wouldn't be surprised if so, you felt like all you deserved was to be left. “Thomas, I'm sorry, I'm sorry !” You couldn't just let him go after that. “I'll make it up to you, please my love, please, I'll take the next plane si we can meet !”

There was silence before Tom talked again. “I don't want to see you right now.” Then he suddenly hanged up.

PART TWO

#tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland writing #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland prompt #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker #peter parker writing #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker prompt #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #spider man: homecoming #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #spiderman au

[survivingthejungle]

hello friends here is a part 2 for my most recent one shot! i am really just about to babble a bunch of words onto my screen but i hope they are good words

_______

You were recovered, fully, and on your meds 24/7, no exceptions. (Your family [and you] didn’t want a repeat of what happened the last time you didn’t take them.) People thought of you differently, of course. That was to be expected when people find out that you had to go to an asylum for the criminally insane for attacking a boy with a lacrosse stick. You didn’t mind, you had kind, loyal friends who never thought anything but the best of you. Anyone else didn’t really matter. You were allowed back on the team eventually, and got right back into the game like nothing had ever changed.

There was one thing about that fiasco, though, that still haunted you. The screaming please of the ginger boy you had befriended during your stay. You didn’t tell any of your family or friends about him, for good reason. (They would be wary of you if you told them that you made a friend in an insane asylum. They would worry for your safety if you told them he threatened to find you.) You did your best to forget him, but sometimes his empty threat and screams, or memories of your short-lived friendship, still managed to make their way back to you. You wished it would stop.

But regardless, no one but you knew about these thoughts. You successfully got back on track in all of your classes. Being an honors student was demanding and tiring, but it was beneficial to your academic growth and college applications. You were a fast learner, to your advantage, and catching up on the material you missed only took a week or so. Life was back to normal sooner than you realized, and you were happy. Sometimes, you forgot for a moment about where you had been and who you had met. Study dates in cafes and running amuck (abiding every law, of course,) in the city allowed you to feel like it was all just a strange dream. But all dreams come to an end, and this one was about to.

The stories blaring on the news all had one thing in common- 6 prisoners in the asylum had managed to break out, and were not nowhere to be found. What scared you the most about this was that Jerome, the ginger boy, was amongst them. But you kept your cool as best you could- no one knew about your relationship with him, and you didn’t necessarily want anybody to know.

Of course, as soon as he was broken out of prison, the first thing he decided was that he was going to find you. After all, he couldn’t go back on his word (he was a man of honor, after all). He only had one condition for agreeing to do Galavan’s bidding- it was to have you. He wanted you back. What you thought of as a convenient friendship, he always thought of as something more. In his mind, the moment you allowed yourself to be comfortable with him, you became his. He was under the impression that this was an unspoken agreement- you, however, never came to see it that way.

The both of you were in for a rude awakening.

It came one day after you returned from practice after school. Your parents were out of town on a business trip, so the house was empty for him to break into and await your return. (Your dog- while you loved her dearly- was not, by any means, a guard dog. If she was given attention, she was perfectly placid.) When you got home, you found both Jerome and your dog sitting on the floor of your living room. You froze in shock and let your bags, both school and sports, fall to the floor with a thud. That was when he looked up at you and instantly broke out in a grin. “Well hello there,” he said, standing up and talking painstakingly slow steps towards you. “Long time, no see, huh?”

Your breath was shaky when you tilted you head to look at him. He was looming over you, had you backed up against a wall, and you were beyond intimidated. “Why… why are you here?” He let out a well-mannered scoff.

“Why do you think? I told you I’d come back for you, bird. I wouldn’t break a promise.” He took notice to your fearful expression. “What’s wrong? Something bothering you?”

“Please… Please leave me alone. You’re sick. You need help. Please get out of my house. I won’t tell anyone.”

(This was a lie, of course. You were calling the police as soon as possible.) He just laughed at this.

“What are you talking about, (y/n)? I’m not leaving here without you. You’re mine, we were made for each other.” You scrunched your brows in confusion. “All you have to do is free your mind… these people have it clouded. You think you’re sane, but really… you’re just trapped. I know you can’t see it just yet. But don’t worry, I’ll show you.”

Now it was your turn to laugh. “‘Show me’? Jerome, there’s nothing to show. I’m not a psychopathic anarchist like you. I don’t want to 'free my mind’. I’m perfectly happy being sane and healthy.”

He just shook his head. “Wow. They really did a number on you. Just about snuffed out your spark! But I’ll get it back to ya in no time, believe me.”

“Why do you care?” you blurted out suddenly. “Where is this all coming from- why won’t you just leave me be?”

He tilted his head at you, genuinely confused. “Well, because- because you were made for me! You’re mine. I need you."

"Well then you'd better stop needing me, Jerome, because I'm not yours. You can't just come in here and claim ownership over me, like I'm some... some thing! People don't belong to people, and I don't belong to you. Get out." You didn't know where the sudden courage to say this came from. Beneath your tough exterior, you were terrified that he would lash out and kill you any second. But you composed your posture regardless.

"Is that so?" he questioned, taking it concerningly lightly. "Well then. I can see when I'm not wanted. Take care, then. But you'll regret this sooner or later. You'll come to your senses and see that you're mine soon enough." Finally, he stepped back, far enough to let you take a deep breath and not bump into him. He began to walk away, when he quickly turned on his heel. "On second thought," he looked at you, "I can't just leave you like this."

You began to form the beginning of a question when he had you pinned to the wall, again, hands around your throat. You struggled against him, clawing at his arms and hands. (Damn it, you play lacrosse, why can't you fight back harder?) "Don't worry, I won't kill ya. Just make ya sleep for a few hours. Don't want ya callin' ol' Jimbo down at the GCPD, now, do we?" You slumped to the floor, black spots forming in your vision. "Sleep, princess. I'll be back soon enough." His threatening promise was the last thing you saw before you totally blacked out and fell into a deep slumber.

Hours later, when you finally awoke exactly where he had left you. You were a sobbing mess, and there were fresh bruises scattered along your throat. It registered in your mind that he now knew where you lived, attended school, and could kill you at a moment's notice. You rushed to the phone and dialled 911, hands shaking. When the operator picked up, you spilled everything that had just taken place, taking a few, short shaky breaths after talking a mile a minute. The police, as well as an ambulance, was on the scene in five minutes. You contacted your parents next, and they booked the earliest flight possible to get back to you.

You saw his shenanigans on the news throughout the rest of that week. An oil truck heist, attempted arson, and raiding and massacring the police station.

(What scared you most about that one was when he talked about you in his cheaply-recorded monologue to the police chief. He vaguely mentioned his anger at society for tainting the mind and heart of his 'pretty bird', followed by a rant about being cogs in a machine. It was unsettling.)

You didn't sleep well for weeks. One night, you woke up in a cold sweat, convinced that he was in your room. You fell back asleep soon after, but in the morning, Your window was open and there was a rose by your head.

(You went to your backyard and burned it. You held it up high, just incase he was hiding somewhere, watching.)

(He was. He brought back two more the next night.)

This game of retaliation continued for a few days more, until it stopped. He was stabbed in the throat on live television, after hours of terrorizing a charity gala. You were relieved, of course, but a small part of you was disappointed.

(You did really want him to get better. You wanted to be his friend, you really did, but not if he was a psychopathic criminal who didn't care about anyone but himself.)

(But he did care about someone other than himself.)

(It was you.) (Deep down, you knew it, too.)

________

YEET SKEET I WROTE IT

i'm so tired

i thought i would let u kno im getting a lot closer to one of my friends and its making me really happy. we will refer to him as cool boy.

dumb boy still walks through my life every now and then. i can't avoid that. he's dating one of my best friends. he said he wanted to still be friends but hasn't taken any initiative on that yet. am i disappointed because we used to be so close and now we don't talk anymore? yes. will it kill me? hell no

im still so tired.

another guy friend, we will call him ugly boy because he is an ugly boy, started dating another one of my good friends recently. they are cute as hell and i hope he makes her happy bc she is a great person and her last boyfriend was a jerk.

i, myself, still have no love life. im cool with that. i've managed this much of my life without a man and i don't necessarily need or want one at the moment. the boy previously known as cute boy is a bit of a bore anyways.

please gimme feedback on this fic ALSO thank you i need constant validation that u guys like what i do, since, u know, i do it for u, and i don't get paid for this

#jerome #jerome valeska #jerome valeska gotham #jerome valeska imagine #jerome valeska x reader #jerome valeska x you #gotham #gotham imagine #gotham on fox #gotham x reader #reader insert gotham