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sugareey-makes-stuff · 11 months

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It's that time of year again. Turning another year older means age is just a number, right? I'm not doing anything crazy today (sadly I'm working rn), but hopefully I can enjoy the rest of the evening and make it into a birthday weekend, as long as RL cooperates. It could certainly be a better year for me, but I'm grateful with what I have. Since fandom has helped me a lot throughout the years, blessed me with some of amazing friends and made me who I am today, I thought I'd give back and do something simple and slightly different for this year's birthday fic rec list. Some of you follow me for Harry Potter, Teen Wolf or both (or maybe you just appreciate my dry humour, sarcasm and shenanigans, IDK). And so, here's are 14 multi-fandom and multi-ship fics that I like rereading on repeat because they're made of awesomeness. There's Drarry, Perciver, Wolfstar + rarepairs and Sterek, with the occasional dash of hurt/comfort and angst I love so very much. As always, please give these authors some love by leaving kudos and/or comments!

Maybe you'll find a new fic to add to your TBR (or ship/dynamic you want to explore more of). Check out last year's rec list for your HP fix (lol, get it?). Cheers, and happy reading!

HP- Drarry

🎉 And an Owl Named Romeo by Rickey (E, 26.5k)- Romance, Comfort, Coming Out, Case, Case Fic, Drama, Epistolary, flangst, Auror Fic, Animals, Drama/Light Comedy, Owls, Magic

Draco breeds owls, Harry's an Auror, and an owl named Romeo is going to bring them together.

🎉 Bound To You by agentmoppet | @agentmoppet (E, 28.1k )- Accidental Bonding, Cursed Bonding, Curse Breaker Draco Malfoy, Cartographer Harry Potter, unusual careers, lots of sass, Mild Angst, Pining, Slow Burn

Hag magic is capricious and unruly, and Harry and Draco are bound to stay by each other’s side until they can solve the riddle. In between long car trips, misty rain, and midnight star charts, they begin to understand each other.

🎉 you've got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass (M, 20.7k)- AU - Soulmates, Soul Bond, Red String of Fate, Heavy Angst, Terminal Illnesses, Major Illness, Angst with a Happy Ending

When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want. He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try.

HP- Perciver & Rarepairs

🎉 A Journey Home by edelweissmar (Perciver, T, 28k)- Post-War, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Falling In Love, Weasley Family, Family Drama, Cute Kids, Fluff and Angst

Almost ten years after the war ended, Percy Weasley is Head of the Department of Magical Transportation and buries himself in work. It is the only way he knows to forget for a while about the mistakes he made, the family he failed, the brother he lost. Oliver Wood, once the promising keeper of the Puddlemere United, had his hand badly injured in the Battle of Hogwarts, and could never play professionaly again. But if there is one thing Oliver doesn't do, it is giving up. (Or, in which Oliver performs illegal magic on his broom and Percy, instead of having him arrested, falls in love)

🎉 Still Standing by eleventy7 | @tinyhistory (Perciver, G, 16k)- Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Isle of Skye, Scotland, Witness Protection, War-related PTSD

After the war, Percy testifies against his corrupted Ministry colleagues and is sent to the Scottish lowlands to live under the protection of a witness security program.

🎉 What Keeps the Stars Apart by MangoMartini (Perciver, E, 8k)- First Time, Blow Jobs, Light Angst, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon

Percy Weasley attends his brother George's wedding, even though he has doubts as to if he's really wanted there. The night takes a turn from bad to worse to surprisingly better when he runs into his old best friend, Oliver Wood, whom he hasn't spoken to in five years.

🎉 that's all i'm asking. by Idnis | @idnis (Deamus, T, 20.3k)- Angst, Kissing, Spin the Bottle, Pining, Emotional Hurt, 6th and 7th year, Wizarding Wars

‘No,’ Seamus replied in a hurry. ‘No, it’s not. Come on. When’s the last time we played something stupid like spin the bottle or seven minutes?’ ‘Really?’ Hermione said. ‘That’s what you want to play?’

🎉 Fire On Fire by WolfstarGarden (Wolfstar, E, 11.3k)- AU - Modern Setting, AU - Ballet, AU - Non-Magical, Ballet, Smut, Rimming, Anal Sex, Control Issues, Social Anxiety, Desire, LGBTQ Themes, Comfort, Crushes, Getting to Know Each Other, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Pining, Romance, Dancing, Bottoming, Feelings, Light Angst, Remus Lupin & James Potter Friendship

Sirius’ frown deepened. After a moment he murmured in a low voice, “I don’t understand you at all, Remus Lupin. Oh, but I would so very like to.” A flush crawled boiling heat up Remus’ neck as he fumbled for an answer. “Goodness Sirius ... I’m no one special.” Sirius’ gaze didn’t waver. He said simply, “I think you could be very special to me.”

🎉 quite like us by alarainai | @alarainai (Jegulus, T, 67.3k)- AU- Modern Setting, Texting, Wrong Number AU, Background Wolfstar

[18:12] Seriously, wrong number. Don’t send shirtless pictures to strangers. [18:13] Padfoot, this rejection hurts. [18:16] What’s a Padfoot? [18:17] Wait, is this actually not Padfoot? [18:19] I don’t even know what that is, but no. I’m not a Padfoot.

🎉 Leathers and Lace by doshu | @vdoshu (Flintwood, E, 7.7k)- POV Marcus, Post-Hogwarts, Professional Quidditch, Injury Recovery, anger issues, Toxic Masculinity from side characters, Misunderstandings, Idiots in Love, Getting Together, Explicit Sexual Content, Lingerie, Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, St Mungo's Hospital

Things were much less complicated when Wood played for a different team. “Fuckin’ twat,” Marcus mutters, glaring at his teammate. Wood can’t hear him, but it still feels good to say the words. He wishes he could punch the git but knows that doing so here, at St Mungo’s, when the Keeper’s out cold and there’s a Healer standing hardly three feet away, wouldn’t be one of his finest moments. No. He’ll wait until Wood’s released, and they’re back on the pitch. Not even on the pitch—the second they run into each other in the change rooms he’ll get Marcus’s fist in his stupid face.

Teen Wolf- Sterek

🎉 it took new york to make me a cowboy by piratetattoos (M, 15.2k)- Post-Season/Series 03, AU - Canon Divergence, Derek Hale Leaves Beacon Hills, New York City, Recovery, Trauma, Writer Derek Hale, Photographer Stiles Stilinski, POV Derek Hale, Healing, Slow Burn, Postcards, Vonnegut References, Long-Distance Relationship, (kind of), Poetry, Identity Porn, AU - Writing & Publishing, Photography, First Kiss, Getting Together, Inevitability, Happy Ending

After Beacon Hills, Derek heads back to New York. He doesn’t look back, lest he be turned into a pillar of salt. He leaves it all behind, a monument, a tomb, a thousand fuck ups and betrayals left to gather dust and slowly rot away to nothing. He read somewhere once, that time is cyclical, that the universe repeats over and over, and that he will be reborn and make the exact same mistakes over and over again, helpless to change anything. He thinks Stiles told him about a Vonnegut novel like that once. He doesn’t think about Stiles. (or: Derek leaves Beacon Hills, finds himself, and waits for Stiles to find him.)

🎉 Don't Talk About the Bachelor Party by snarkatthemoon | @snarkatthemoon (E, 29.5k)- AU - Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, Future Fic, Scott is a Good Friend, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Pining, Angst, Fluff, Weddings, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, Emotional Constipation, Drunken Shenanigans, Getting Together, Sex, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Stiles Stilinski Deserves Nice Things

“Hey look, I kinda need to run something by you,” Scott starts, sounding sheepish, “You know how I said the venue only has eight rooms?” Stiles ‘hmm’s’ absentmindedly, half-distracted by his work phone that’s pinging with emails. “Well, my Dad has decided he wants to stay the night of the wedding now, so we’ve had to make a few changes to the sleeping arrangements.” Stiles groans, throwing his work phone across the bed. He has a feeling he knows where this is going and he knows that Scott knows he’s got him backed into a corner. “Really, Stiles, we couldn’t figure out how to do it another way, and I know it’s not exactly the best timing in the world—” “Just come out with it, Scott.” “We need you to share a room with Derek.” Or, the one where Stiles tries to deny that he's emotionally constipated, there's a wedding, and no one will shut up about what happened at Scott's fucking Bachelor Party.

🎉 Hale of Heart by Nahara (E, 23k)- AU - Future, Future Fic, Witches, Falling In Love, Emissary in Training, Stiles Stilinski, Bad Poetry, First Time, Blow Jobs, OCs, Jealous Stiles, Derek Feels, Derek Hale Has a Heart

Derek’s heart is cursed into a jar (because why the hell not? this is Beacon Hills) and Stiles is an Emissary (in training) who finds himself heart-sitting for Derek. Stiles would like to make it clear that while yes, Derek did give him his heart, he obviously didn’t mean it like that, so stop making those faces, guys.

🎉 Loving You (Losing You) by whentheywrite (T, 11.9k)- AU - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, oblivious idiots, Curses, Pixies, Canon-Typical Violence, Monster of the Week, BAMF Stiles, Protective Derek, Idiots in Love, Memory Loss, Mind Manipulation, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Stiles Stilinski Deserves Nice Things, Scott McCall is a puppy, The Pack Being Idiots, slight angst, Crack, Stiles Stilinski is Derek Hale's Anchor

Derek is cursed to lose what he loves, the pack doesn't know how to react, and Stiles is concerned. Rightfully so, since nothing seems to happen. And then everything goes wrong.

#drarry #sterek #perciver #wolfstar #deamus #flintwood #jegulus #hp fanfic #teen wolf fanfiction #fic recs #rec lists #multi fandom #multiship #happy birthday #sugareey #sugareey recs things

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tcfkag · 5 months

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2024 and the Return of the To-Done List

So, after a year during which (a) our daughter ran full-speed (literally) into the trying two's, (b) I had multi-focal pneumonia that resulted in a week or two in the hospital (including a brief sojourn in the ICU), (c) I had bizarre, seemingly inexplicable seizures for the first time ever [which meant I couldn't drive for six months...right after we moved to a semi-"rural" town...for the northeast that is], (d) had an acute kidney injury, (e) had several bouts of unexplained pitting edema in my legs, (f) started a new job that I actually really like, even if there is a steep learning curve, and (g) lost my Mom after a long battle with mild to moderate dementia/Alzheimer's that then dropped off a cliff into end-stage dementia in less than six months (depending on how you count it), and (h) just generally felt like I was never managing my physical or mental health as well as I could or should be, I'm going to try to make some changes. These aren't resolutions because I truly think that New Year's resolutions just set you up to fail. Instead, I'd call them goals. Or, at least, hope that I want to support with action as much as I can. While still giving myself grace knowing that I can and probably will mess up along the way. But, the first step is that I'm going to try to bring back a kind of journaling-like activity (since I suck at journaling) that my old therapist recommended when I was feeling like this before. Each day I make a list, generally on Tumblr for at least a tiny modicum of peer pressure, and I just make a list of everything I've done that day. No matter how big or how small. As she put it "make it your base assumption that each day, you will do absolutely nothing, so you get credit for everything, even things as simple as showering. I frequently restart these lists when my depression and anxiety have gotten bad enough that I know I'm not taking care of myself, mentally and physically, so a big part of my goals are (a) to move more [in whatever form that takes], (b) eating healthier, and (c) to take care of several medical/dental appointments that I've been putting off for way too long. The beauty of the list is that, a lot of the time, I ended up doing stuff BECAUSE of the list. So that I won't be staring at an empty page as I try to make my list each year.

Things I'm proud of today...so far:

when we took Peanut to the trampoline park to burn off some of her "no daycare today suckers" energy and this time, I bought a jump pass for myself. I only made it ~30 minutes but it was a great work-out. 10/10 would recommend.

I took the dogs for the "long" trail walk out to the back of our property,

I did a core and flexibility routine this morning,

I decided to take one for the team and point out to my Uncle that the nostalgia he feels about Aunt Jemimah as a syrup mascot isn't as important as the company making money off the likeness of a woman who died 100 years ago who was used as a stand in for the generic idea of what an enslaved (or recently freed) Black woman did or should do, and (finally)

this one is a few days late, but not only did we drive 12+ hours to visit my in-laws for Christmas, but we also stopped in NJ in both directions to pick up Monotasker's Aunt who is 80-years-old, hard of hearing, and in the early stages of dementia or Alzheimer's and I didn't even lose my shit at a single person...even the ones who deserved it.

Happy New Years everyone!

"May the best of your todays be the worst of your tomorrows." (Jason Mraz) And even if the worst of your todays are the best of your tomorrows, I hope you can still find your way out and through by the light of the moon to guide you.

#TCFKAG #Things I'm Proud Of Today #depression #spoonies #To-Done List #chronic illness #chronic pain #just generally an exhausted 40-year-old mother to a quite lovely but at times trying two year old #who - i might add - might have sprained her ankle at the trampoline park #oh dear #i miss my mommy #2024 #Hopefully not a second verse that's same as the first

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justoneofthoseghosts · 1 year

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You bring up a really great point about most of the viewers of shows are casual viewers, I think that those of us in the fandom often forget this. At the end if the day, it's a business for them. PD is a very good example of this. I don't know what happened behind the scenes with JLS but it seems to me that both sides were not able to agree on contracts. Did it hurt the franchise, maybe to those who were big fans of Halstead and his relationship, but for a casual viewer not so much. The ratings haven't been terrible for PD, it didn't drop drastically as some have made it out to be. The show has still been able to move on with major cast departures, and this applies to Med and Fire as well, because a majority of the people watching are casual viewers, they have no stake in favorite characters or ships, it's just another show in a line up of shows they watch.

I also see where fan service can come into play and how it can help and hurt a franchise. For me that's a good and a bad thing, especially for those who only watch shows for ships.

Look at 'The Rookie' they finally got Chenford together but this often scares me because if the writers are not good at making the characters multidimensional, those two will only be tied together. With no growth for characters only the relationship and often times is the female character who suffers like Hawkami and the writers putting the ships growth before the character (Violet). Or they can scream dislike of the show until the end of the show like New Amsterdam fans.

It's going to be interesting how the absence of TK will affect CF and how NBC chooses to go forward should he decides to permanently step away instead of returning.

Sorry if this came off as a tangent but something I was thinking about after I read your anon.

I agree with all of this, Nonny! And no need to apologize. My inbox is always open to any thoughts you and others may have 🤗

While streaming has been on the rise, a lot of these network procedurals still draw in so many causal viewers and OC has Wednesday nights in a chokehold. It was a great decision for NBC to line them up in one night because that does increase ratings and I noticed how Fire's increased beginning season 7.

I am wondering though why they haven’t announced renewals yet but maybe Wolf Entertainment is still trying to negotiate a deal for another multi season renewal. Procedurals tend to run longer than other types of shows, in my opinion, because even with cast changes, people still tune in. Most viewers aren’t really tuning in for the ships. They want some type of entertainment through action or cases and probably something to take their minds off their busy day. CSI ran for 15 seasons even with a lot of the cast leaving and new characters coming in. I can honestly see the same thing happening for OC if NBC decides to keep the 10 pm hour after next season and if they continue to get renewed. For actors, while it is a stable, paying gig, sometimes they might want change or some new challenge. Playing the same character for x years can be tiring too, While we can’t speculate about Taylor and his LOA, and I hope he's okay, if he decides not to come back, they can look for another actor with a similar level of popularity and make him the lead. It opens up more writing opportunities (or maybe rehashing old storylines lol) but Jesse and potentially, Taylor leaving doesn't mean the shows are over. Same for PD with JLS (and I am quite curious about what went down with that) and Med with all the cast changes.

You bring up a good point on fan service too. Writers seem to scroll through fandom Twitter or social media to see what people are buzzing about. Love it when they give in to it but also, there’s a bit too much bad writing on these networks. 22 episode seasons are a doozy unlike shorter shows on streaming sites or UK shows that only have 6 to 10 episodes which leaves less room for error or lazy writing or fillers but again, the base the writers are playing too is less the fandom but more casual viewers who they need to keep tuning in weekly. Casual viewers don't really analyze when a character is OOC or if a ship tanked.

At the end of the day, we can scream, sigh, fangirl/boy about everything about TV and that’s just the roller coaster of emotions. TV shows should be fun and (maybe if it isn't all the time) a stress free way to unwind!

#answered #anon tag

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ramp-it-up · 3 years

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It Takes Two

Pairing: Soft Dark!Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI. Curate your own experience. Cursing, drinking, cheating, breakups, rehab, recovery, deception, lies, celibacy, manipulation, wedding planning, semi-public explicit, rough, sex, oral sex (m receiving), degradation kink, breeding kink, choking, dubiuous con (b/c of deception). Darkish! Scott Evans. This is not proofread!

A/N: @lovebittenbyevans gave me a great idea about still dealing with Chris when commenting on The One. I thought that the Chris in that fic could really go left and get pretty Dark and dirty. And then....

Anonymous asked:

Imagine Chris cheating on Y/N …

That made me think up this fic. It is a sequel to The One. I hope you like it!

-----

You left him.

You flew to Montreal to surprise him on set, trench coat and lingerie and everything, and when you opened the door to his trailer, you saw Heidi on her knees giving Chris a blowjob.

You cussed him out, threw the ring back in his face and turned around and left.

You blocked his number, moved out of his house and cut off all contact. You were done.

The audacity of Chris being indignant about your warnings about Heidi when he was boning her all along.

You loved Scott, but you had to cut him off too after he tried to explain that Chris was drunk when you found him, and was going to rehab to deal with his issues.

It was classic celebrity bullshit and you didn’t have time for it.

You decided to center yourself, and swear off all relationships and sex. You wanted to purge your mind of all that weighed you down.

You concluded that love, sex, and Chris Evans made you feel heavy as fuck.

You moved to New York City. It was far enough away from Chris and your folks in Houston to give you some peace.

You could still run your business and even think about a storefront. It was the perfect location to live your best life, eat healthy, exercise, socialize and network.

You fell in love with yourself, and you didn’t think much about Christopher Robert Evans at all.

Only every time you went on IG or Twitter, even though you blocked him and his hashtags. And every time you went to Target, because his fucking movies and merchandise were everywhere.

But you were cool, because you were doing you. You weren’t looking for love.

Of course, that’s when it found you.

Six months after you left Boston, you were at a natural beauty products expo in Brooklyn hawking your wares.

Your business had taken off, with almost a half million dollars in sales, and you were being interviewed by a major news outlet of color when one of the correspondents caught your eye.

You flirted, exchanged numbers and ended up going on a date. In another three months you were engaged to him.

Kevin Watts made you feel safe, protected and loved. And he wasn’t just after sex. He was well off, and secure in himself and you. It just felt right.

When Kevin proposed, it was just you and him at your favorite restaurant. So romantic.

Not like the rowdy family 4th of July party at which Chris asked you to marry him last year, in front of both your parents.

The laughter and the joy was just a little much.

This was perfect. You didn’t miss Chris at all. You set about planning your wedding with a profound sense of peace and safety.

You and Kevin were meant to be.

----

Chris was nothing without you.

Nothing but an award winning actor and producer, a multi-millionaire and founder of a major organization dedicated to bringing opposing political viewpoints together.

All of that was cool, and it kept him going, but when he lost you, he lost his motivation.

Chris didn’t take any more roles after the sequel with Heidi, and he dumped her post haste. He did enter rehab and realized that he depended way too much on alcohol to dull his emotions.

He got drunk off his ass when he was away from you because he missed you so much, and that led to him letting Heidi think that she could have him.

She’d had him physically, but never his heart. Or his mind. You owned those.

Chris followed your business closely, and was proud of your success.

Of course he followed your social media on burner accounts and saw that you were doing well.

You looked like you enjoyed being single and seemed healthy and happy.

He couldn’t ask for anything more for you.

Except to be his again.

Chris was just biding his time for your reunion, deciding to give you a year before he made his move.

Now he felt every emotion, and he knew that you must still love him too.

You just needed to realize that your life would be even better with him back in it.

The year apart would be just punishment for what he’d done to you, and when you came back together, it would be better than before.

Everyone speculated on his bachelorhood, wondering if he would settle down, speculating and gossiping about who he was with, but he just played coy and kept quiet.

No one would know that he was yours and yours alone, and that you were still his.

You just didn’t know it.

But you weren’t going along with the plan that you didn’t know about.

About seven months into his self-imposed purgatory, a complication started popping up on Chris’s feed.

Kevin.

And a couple of months after that, a post of a proposal, in a restaurant.

The asshole probably didn’t even ask or involve your folks. Chris was in a rage for a week.

He almost started drinking again, but as he got ready to drive to the liquor store, Kevin’s face flashed on his screen doing a report on the election.

Instead of making him even more angry, he smiled, elated at the thought that came to him.

Chris had a new plan, and it was going to be even better than before.

-----

The last three months had been a whirlwind, and you never thought it would turn out this way.

You were planning your wedding with your mother, discussing the seating at the reception, and you deciding where Chris Evans and his date would sit.

What a time to be alive.

Your mother only let it slip a couple of times that you should be marrying Chris, but for the most part, she kept it cute.

You explained to her that everything was squashed between you and Chris, and that he and Kevin had a great relationship, were friends, even.

They’d bonded over politics when Kevin interviewed him, and became buds before Chris even realized that you and he were together.

Kevin knew, but he wasn’t the jealous type, and he didn’t want to make things awkward. Surprisingly, Kevin insisted that he be at the wedding.

You thought about it and decided it would be the ultimate closure for Chris to watch you marry someone else.

You were pleasantly surprised at Chris. He was handling this very well. He never tried to contact you, and according to Kevin, never even mentioned you. That was growth.

Maybe you too could be friends.

You felt good about it. So much so that you unblocked him and started a dialogue.

-----

Hi.

Chris saw your number come across his apple watch and he practically did a dance. It was 9:24 pm. He picked up his phone and stared at the word, forcing himself to wait and not respond. He went to work out.

47 minutes later, he responded.

Hello?

This time, he sat and waited for your response, which came 7 minutes later.

I just wanted to say, I appreciate the way you're handling this.

Chris bit his lip, imagining you sitting there, thinking of what to say and staring down at your phone.

I’m sorry, I don't know who this is. You may have reached a wrong number?

He grinned at the play.

-----

Your heart dropped. Did he no longer have your contact?

Why would he do that?

You don’t know why you felt some kinda way; you’d blocked him.

Maybe he had changed his number and this was no longer his. Your heart was beating fast when you texted back.

Is this Chris? This is Y/N. I was just texting about Kevin Watts.

You anxiously watched the thought bubbles on imessage.

----

Even though you’d texted back almost immediately, Chris kept you hanging for just a couple of minutes. His dick was hard at the thought of communicating with you.

Fuck, you were such an aphrodesiac.

Oh shit! Y/N I’m sorry. I got a new phone.. You know how it is…

He knew you wouldn’t believe that. That’s why he said it.

You just stared at the phone. That was bullshit. You can easily port your contacts into a new phone. You just never believed that Chris would really move on. And you didn’t know why.

You had.

You took a deep breath and continued.

Lol, No worries! Just wanna say thank you for being cool with my Boo. I’m gonna turn in now. Check you later.

You tried to keep it light.

Chris ignored the ‘my Boo’ comment and focused on the thought of you in bed.

You usually slept in a tank top or t-shirt and panties, and the top would invariably come off because you got hot.

And then things would invariably get hotter if he was in bed with you….

Cool! Sweet dreams. Check you later. 😉

Chris made sure to exit your message thread and come back so that you wouldn’t see the thought bubbles that he saw when you kept staring at the text.

You were lost in the times that Chris always used to say that to you, and when he whispered “Sweet Dreams” in your ear when he was far away, you always had wet dreams about him.

And that wink.

How could a fucking yellow emoji turn you the fuck on?

You reached for your bullet vibrator as you continued to stare at the interaction.

Chis had already started stroking himself when you told him you were going to bed.

Knowing that you were thinking exactly what he wanted you to got him close, and he didn’t even have to pull up your old videos to get off.

Not tonight.

-----

Over the next few weeks. you’d texted a few times, Chris ‘made amends’ and you accepted his apology.

Then, you started texting more regularly, mainly joking around about sports, your Celtics/Rockets rivalry ever raging.

From your perspective, Chris was always appropriate and respected your relationship with Kevin. You were glad because you’d missed your friendship with him.

You felt giddy that your life was working out so well, and you traveled to your weekend getaway in the mountains for your bridal shower with a light heart.

Chris attended Kevin’s bachelor festivities with only a week to go until the wedding.

——

From Chris’s perspective, things were working out better than he’d hoped.

Scoring an invite to the wedding was more than he’d imagined, and Kevin inviting him out to his Bachelor party was just icing on the cake.

Maybe he could make Kevin slip up enough so that you would dump him before the wedding. Chris was hopeful.

If not, Plan B was the nuclear option.

-------

Kevin was following the stripper’s ass like a puppy. He was lit on booze and pills (that Chris provided) and his guard was down.

Kevin considered Chris a friend.

Chris just wanted to keep Kevin close because he was the enemy.

They were talking about you.

“She’s so fucking innocent. A sweeter angel there never was. I’ll have to teach her how to fuck.”

Chris almost choked on his water.

“I'm sorry. What now?”

Kevin just barreled on, ignoring the question.

“That's how I know I need to wife her.” He was talking to Chris, but still staring at the stripper.

“She would never chase the D. Hell, she won’t even touch mine. You know, her being celibate and all.”

Chris raised his eyebrow and smiled, which Kevin never noticed. Chris shook his head at your antics. His little beautiful love.

“That’s why I was never pressed that you are her ex. I mean, I’m impressed you were with her as long as you were.”

Chris just smiled and nodded, curious as to where this was leading.

“A man like you don’t have to put up with that. You must have punani lined up for days, bro.”

Chris’s heart lept. This dullard did not have access to your pussy. HIS pussy. Never has.

Chris could fuck a lot of people a million ways from Sunday with one text. Except for you. And you were all that mattered.

“I don’t know about all that.” Chris put on his best, ‘aw shucks’ act.

Chris was over the moon. You were still his. In every way.

Kevin kept tipping the stripper and was trying to call her over. He asked her about a private lap dance. Chris’s eyes lit up. This asshole was making it too easy.

The stripper nodded and went back to finish up her set. Chris walked over to the bar.

“Aye!” Chris summoned tha bartender over.

“What can I get you, Sir.”

“I don’t need a drink. I wanna take care of my friend over there. He’s gonna have a lap dance with Star. It’s his bachelor party. I need it to be extra special.”

Chris started peeling off hundreds so the barkeep could see.

“And I need him to have some keepsakes, so he’ll remember it always.”

More hundreds came off. The bartender’s eyes got bigger and bigger. “That’s no problem.”

Chris flashed his famous smile.

“Great, let me tell you where to send them. Wanna make them a wedding present.” He wrote down an address on a napkin.

He was now on Plan C. And it was perfect.

------

A week later and the rehearsal at the church was more fun than you thought it would be. You weren’t allowed to participate, just watch, as the result of an old wives tale.

The church secretary found you in the pews. She handed you a manila envelope.

“This was mailed here yesterday, probably an invoice of something for the wedding, I put it aside for you, sweetie.”

You smiled back at her and tucked it into your purse, not wanting to distract yourself with more wedding bills.

Later, when you and Kevin were in the back of the car to the restaurant for the Rehearsal Dinner, you pulled it out and opened it. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“What the ENTIRE FUCK KEVIN!”

You threw the pictures of him fucking a stripper in his face, startling him out of staring at his phone.

He picked one up, his mouth dropped open and started talking.

“Look, Baby, Baby! I can explain!...”

“DO NOT FUCKING LIE TO ME KEVIN! WE HAVE OVER 300 PEOPLE HERE FOR OUR WEDDING TOMORROW MORNING.”

Kevin was on his knees in the back of the suburban.

“Listen to me.. Listen. I’m a man. I have needs…”

“Kevin, I swear to god….”

“Okay, okay… I admit it…”

You listened to him and your heart went silent. You couldn’t even absorb what he said.

When you pulled up to the restaurant, you straightened your dress and looked at him coolly.

“I am NOT going to deal with this tonight. Tonight was supposed to be a fun celebration of our wedding. I will decide later if it's still going to happen.”

Kevin was terrified.

“Right now, you and I will go into this place, greet our friends arm in arm and pretend that you are not a fucking narcissitic asshole who just ripped my heart to shreds. Got it?”

“Yes, but I-”

“Do NOT speak to me unless I speak to you first. Or it's automatically off.”

Kevin just nodded and cleared his throat.

You raised your chin and said, “Let’s go.”

-----

Two hours later, dinner was over, and you were lit on your way to TURNT.

Chris observed you, from the moment you entered holding hands with Kevin to the second you dropped his hand in disgust, to the way you held yourself away from him at dinner, but then put on a sweet face when everyone spoke, to Kevin, who was an absolute mess.

He figured you got the pictures. He suppressed the glee that was coursing through him.

But he couldn’t figure out why you were still going on with the charade.

Chris didn’t make a beeline for you like he wanted to, he just let the natural flow of the party lead you to him. He was talking to your cousin when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around.

“Hey you.”

You cocked your head at him in that way and looked up at him, your smile brightening your face. Damn, he had to plant his feet. You smiling at him like that made him feel faint.

You both heard your cousin say something, but you didn’t pay attention, caught up in your own orbit.

“Hey.”

Chris crossed his arms, and you swore that he was recalling the time when you told him your forearms made you horny. Fuck. Chris made you wet and you were fresh out of fucks tonight.

“So, I can’t have a hug?”

Chris shook his head at your line and opened his arms to embrace you, keeping a respectable pressure and distance until you hugged him tight and pressed close.

He couldn’t help but pick you up, but he put you down immediately, cleared his throat and backed up, looking uncomfortable.

That wouldn’t do. You wanted more of his scent, his warmth, his HIM. You pouted unconsciously in your buzzed state.

Chris’s cock stirred. That fucking mouth had haunted his dreams for almost a year. He was pleased that you were flirting, but he had to work the plan. Couldn’t go too fast.

“You look… great. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow in your wedding dress. You will be a beautiful bride.”

Chris broke his voice in just the right place to convey a wistfulness, making you think that he thought he lost you.

You felt bad. Chris was so sweet. You thought about him and you thought about Kevin.

What was the difference between what Chris did and what Kevin did?

And who did you have more chemistry with? Chris.

Why were you even marrying Kevin?

You looked over at him looking at you and Chris like a lost dog.

You had no idea why you were marrying him.

“You look… Like Chris fucking Evans.” You two laughed.

“I bet you’re fighting them off with a stick.” You sideyed him.

Chris reveled in your interest in his sex life.

“Well, you know. After rehab, I’ve laid off the... physical part of my life. It only brought chaos, you know. I’m trying to be more… zen. Haven’t really had… that for the better part of a year.”

He watched your eyes get big.

“Word?” You smirked. “So you…”

Chris held up his hand. The one you knew he jacked off with. You grabbed it and started drawing on his palm. Chis pulled it back and cleared his throat again.

You pouted again. Him being hard to get made you wet.

And Chris knew that.

“So… you ready to marry the love of your life?”

Chris’s sea blues looked you deep into your cocoa browns. You were transported back in time.

“Yes.”

Then you snapped out of it.

“I mean… the church is set up, the dress is bought, everyone’s here. I guess so.”

Chris laughed as if you were telling a joke.

“I miss your sense of humor.”

You all made small talk and you caught up a little before you asked what you wanted to know.

“So what are you up to tonight?”

Chris looked at his watch.

“I’m actually about to go to my condo an turn in. I get up early to work out.” He felt your eyes sweep up and down his body, and he flexed even though he was fully dressed. It was true. Working out was a regimen. He wanted you drooling for him.

“It’s the Marvel condo in Brooklyn?”

You nodded, remembering good times.

“So you have a car picking you up?” Your mind was whirring.

“I actually have a rental.”

You gulped your drink down, not daring to look in his eyes. Now, not only was your pussy wet, your nipples were hard as hell.

“It’s in the parking garage down the block.”

“Well, I need to clear my head. I’ll walk you there, and you can drop me back?”

Chris looked down at your cute face, and then around the room, spotted Kevin and gave him a nod.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

You looked at Kevin, too. You wanted to stick your tongue out, but you just took Chris by the arm and headed toward the door.

“I’m a big girl. Nobody owns me.”

You looked up into Chris’s eyes and instantly regretted that statement. You played it off and pulled him through the door.

You didn’t talk at all the entire way, both of your heads deep in the clouds of you and him. The chemistry was crackling the air between you.

You held on to his arm, and he let you, reveling in your touch.

When you reached the parking garage, Chris pressed the button with his knuckle and you got in, headed for the top deck.

You just stared at each other, both thinking the same thing. Chris chuckled.

“You’re dangerous, night before your wedding, you probably have cold feet, I’m here. Maybe you want to be sure that you’re sure…”

You cocked your head. “Who said I wanted to fuck you, Chris Evans?”

Chris cocked his head too, mirroring you. “Who said ‘fuck?’ I was thinking you wanted to talk.”

He smirked and you scowled as the door opened.

Chris left you in the elevator stewing as he walked over to the black Tesla he’d rented. There was no other car on the deck.

You scoffed, and followed him out.

He was about to walk around to the driver's side door when you grabbed his arm before he made it. He stopped directly in front of the car.

“Do you mean to tell me that you don’t want me?” You were hot, in more ways than one.

Chris leaned back against the hood.

“That’s not what we’re talking about, y/n. You’re getting married tomorrow. To someone else.”

You smiled and reached up, fingers grazing his neck and playing with the hair at his nape. You ran your fingers through his beard. Kevin’s couldn’t compare.

“That’s tomorrow. Tonight I’m single as fuck.”

You stood on your tip toes and brushed your lips against his, reveling in the moan that came from his throat.

Chris fought to control his urge and continued with his act. His fingers tightened around your waist and you thought this was it. He turned you around in front of the car and then let you go, stepping back to pace back and forth.

“What? What is this? You’ve had almost a year. Kevin’s my friend. What do you want from me?”

He advanced on you, and you had to remember to breathe. He knew what you wanted.

“You. I want you, Chris.”

Chris attacked your lips with his own. He took two seconds to savor them before he ravaged your mouth with his tongue. You moaned and he broke from your mouth to re-discover your face, your neck, your cleavage. He had to control himself not to rip the bodice of your blush pink chiffon dress.

He had a raging hard on, which you were feeling up, remembering how you always struggled to take him. You wanted him to hurt you with it now.

“Give me this Chris… please…”

You were reaching into his pants, thumb caressing his wet, thick tip. He was leaking for you.

“Remember when you told me that I would meet you in a parking lot, and let you fuck me over the hood of your rental car? Even if I was with someone else?”

You pulled your hand out and started sucking your thumb, closing your eyes at the taste of Chris after so long. You pulled it out with a pop.

“You were so right.”

Chris practically growled, grabbed your arm and spun you, pushing your back until your chest hit the hood of the Model X. He leaned over you, pushing his covered crotch into the back of your dress, you moaned, wanting more. His mouth was at your ear.

“Oh, so you want to be my cock whore on the eve of your wedding to someone else.” You moaned because it was true.

“It’s been so long, Chris…”

He reached down in between you and flipped the flouncy skirt of your dress up, exposing you to the wind of New York City. He looked at it for a minute, your ass always his favorite.

He caressed it with both hands, pressing into you with his thumbs.

“So you want me to feel you up?” He pulled his hand back and sucked one of them, practically jumping for joy when he tasted you.

“You want me to pull your panties to the side….” and he did so, seeing your slick shine in the moonlight, and playing in it for a minute, tracing your lips and making you quiver around nothing.

The way you were moaning his name was everything right now.

Your face was pressed against the cool metal of the car, and it was the only thing tying you to the earth.

“Oh yes, Chris…. Please please yesss...fuck me… damn...stretch me out…”

Chris’s dick pulsed and he needed you around him. He moved close again and unzipped his pants, the sound making your knees weak.

He teased your cunt with his tip, collecting your arousal and smearing it not only around your pussy, but around your asshole.

“I know you’ve fucked him, but have you let him have your ass? Am I still the only one…?”

Chris was still playing the game.

“No, no, no… I haven’t let him… I haven’t given him anything. I’ve been celibate, too. It’s still yours Chris. All of me is still yours.”

Chris almost came just hearing you say it out loud. He already knew, but hearing you say it was the shit.

He pushed into you with a grunt, and it was difficult. He didn’t make it. Your cunt squeezed him out.

“Ffffuck, y/n. You’re practically closed down. Is it true?”

He started rocking his tip into your pussy slowly, both regretting and reveling in the fact that he didn’t stretch you out with his fingers beforehand. Then he decided that he wanted you to feel this fully.

You couldn’t answer, only responding with moans has he painfully breached you. You welcomed it, though.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah… yes Chris. Only you.. Since you and I….” Talking about it and the fact that you were taking him again made you wetter, and eased Chris’s way, although your pussy was already stinging with his girth. Your eyes rolled back in your head.

You would never get over this and were so grateful for the feeling again.

Chris watched you and had to grit his teeth to hold back from the reality that he was taking you again.

He leaned over you, hot breath huffing in your ear, puffing and groaning as he fucked you slowly. He was trying to feel every sensation. He wanted you to know that each and every millimeter of your glorious wet, tight pussy was his.

‘Ohhhh. Fuck Chris… YESSSS!” Your voice echoed off the concrete walls, and Chris wanted you louder.

“This what you wanted? You wanted your thick cock inside you again. Hunh? You wanted me to stretch your walls and fuck you raw, hunh?” He started speeding up in time with your moans.

“Such a fucking filthy cockslut for me, baby.” Chris grabbed your neck from the back. “Why didn’t you let Kevin hit, hunh?”

You didn’t answer, you just moaned and Chris smacked your ass, hard.

“Chris! Fuck!”

You screamed. You missed his ruthlessness when you fucked, you missed him making sure that you knew that he knew that you knew. You belonged to him.

“Please!”

“I know why.”

Chris stopped fucking you and pressed down harder on your back, reaching around to find your clit. He swirled around it once, then started to press down slowly.

“Because you would never beg him for that subpar dick that he has. You’re MY whore. You belong to me.”

He pressed down roughly, and you detonated around his dick. He didn’t have to move. Chris pulled out, leaving you cold and bereft.

You turned around and leaned up against the hood, panting and still desperate for him. He stood there in front of you, dick sticking out of his pants, which were ruined, and still rock hard and ready. He was in a quiet rage.

“Why did you leave me?”

You searched his face. He sounded like he was about to cry. You couldn’t quite see his entire face, but his eyes shone, bright with liquid. You went toward him.

“You hurt me Chris. I couldn’t stay. But let me take care of you now.”

You got on your knees in front of him, the hard concrete of the parking structure digging into your knees.

Again, you welcomed the physical pain, distracting you from what you were doing to Kevin, to Chris, and to yourself.

Chris felt like he could fly. You on your knees for him again was a dream.

He took his cock in his hand, stroking it, while moving close to you. In no time, the back of your head was in his palm, and you opened wide to accept him, hand coming up to stroke what you couldn’t fit.

“Ah, ah. Let me.”

You looked up at him to see an evil grin shine down on you.

Chris looked down on an angel trying to swallow him whole. He brushed the tears away from your eyes as you struggled to breathe. You were perfection.

Moaning around him, you relaxed your mouth and throat and let him use you. It was difficult, because you were out of practice, but you welcomed the letting go of all thought.

You dripped down your thighs as Chris pumped into you, ready to accept what he had to give.

After a few minutes, he stopped, and pulled out, grabbing you up to your feet.

Then he bent down and grabbed you by the back of your thighs and you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him and trying to grind down on his still-erect cock as he backed you to the car.

Your ass hit the hood, and Chris reached between you to first tear your panties off. He put them in his pocket as he swiped his dick up and down your dripping wet folds.

He looked back up to watch your face as he pushed inside you, now, an easier path to nirvana.

He pulsed as he watched the pleasure take over your face, with your mouth slack and your eyes glassed over. This was his main purpose in life and he almost lost it.

He brought his hand up to bring you closer, breathed into your mouth as he squeezed your throat. You were high instantly, and clamped down on his cock as your body was wracked with waves of pleasure.

Chris let your body descend back down to the car as he pumped his seed into you, his mind fantasizing that he was impregnating you.

He shook your body as the last ropes of cum spurted out of him. He ran his hand down your body as he pulled out, zipping up his pants as you came back to your senses on the hood of the car.

You stared at the stars as you realized what you had done. You sat up and adjusted your dress, gingerly climbing back down to the ground.

Chris kissed you on the forehead, and this time you let him get into the driver’s seat. You got in the passenger side and Chris reached into the glovebox and handed you some wet wipes.

“Fix your face. And your knees.”

He nodded down to your legs, which were dirty from the parking structure floor. He watched you wipe your knees off, but stopped you as you went higher.

“No. I want you to feel me all night long.”

You wanted to be a brat, but you didn’t feel like sass right about now. You felt kinda terrible.

You got another wet wipe and fixed your makeup as best you could as Chris drove you back to the restaurant.

“Chris, I…”

“I know. None of that meant that we’re back together. That was for some kind of something, I dunno, something Kevin might have done?”

You looked down, ashamed. Chris lifted your chin up with his hand.

“I want you to come to me on your own. You’ve gotten that out of your system, and I’m glad to be of service.” You looked up into his eyes and at his wry smile.

“But remember, you still have a choice. I’m here if you choose me.”

He leaned over and gave you a tender kiss in front of the restaurant.

You smiled at him and climbed out of the car, watching as he drove off.

Chris’s heart was beating out of his chest as he watched you turn and go back inside. He fought the urge to turn around. It was better this way.

----

You walked in the restaurant, and pulled Kevin over to the side of the restaurant in dark alcove.

“Listen. Do you still want to marry me?”

He looked you up and down, taking in your state, from the faint marks on your neck to your scuffed knees. He knew exactly what was up.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

-----

Three hours later, a sleepy Chris answered the doorbell in Brooklyn.

He smiled at you, in the Captain America t-shirt and jeans that you’d stolen from him after a photoshoot, looking like his favorite Disney princess. You.

You took him in, clad in grey sweatpants that hung off his magnificently cut body. He blinked at you sleepily.

“The wedding is off. Chris, I….”

He reached out and grabbed you, pulling you in the brownstone and shutting the door behind you. He had you pinned up against the wall as you tried to speak.

“Shut up and let me taste you.”

You grinned and wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you upstairs.

---

The next morning, Chris was on the phone with Scott.

“Yes, tell the workers at the warehouse to dump all the products….I don’t care, the river, the landfill…. Y/N can’t find out that I bought up all her stock…. We’re going to be married..... I know what the fuck I’m doing Scott. We leave for Aruba this afternoon. Listen, I’ll call you later.”

Chris hung up and turned to find you in the doorway, frowning and rubbing your eyes.

“We’re going to Aruba?”

You smiled and yawned, sleepily stretching. That was all that you’d heard of the conversation.

Chris gave you his stunner smile.

“Yes. It was going to be a surprise.”

He reached down and swung you up in his arms, carrying you into the bathroom bridal style.

“Now let’s get in the shower. You’ve been very naughty, gotta get you clean for your wedding day.”

You giggled as you relaxed in Chris’s arms. “It takes two to be naughty, Chris.”

He winked at you as he turned on the shower. “Don’t I know it.”

-----

I know it’s different. Let me know if you like it. Like, comment, reblog!

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in-the-name-of-styles · 3 years

Text

Need You.

Author’s Note: Hello! After answering tons and tons of asks, and explaining how Tumblr had deleted the second part “Please Stay” to my one shot named “Only If” for god knows what reasons. I had to do this for you guys. I stopped writing years ago, and but kept my masterlist open for you to come and read my writings whenever you wish to. Trust me, this was so effing difficult for me to do! but I’m kind of proud that I removed the time and managed it. but let me inform you it’s not the same, because I do not remember what happened in the original one clearly. I hope this is a better and hopefully more well-written (amongst my other writings *cringe*) version of the old one.

It’s not proof read. I haven't edited it, so I’m sorry in advance for the typos.

So, guys, gals and non-binary pals, I present to you (apology for it being light years late) the part two to your favourite little creation of mine “Only If”, with a new identity... please welcome “Need You”!

Do let me know how it makes you feel in the ask box or comment section. I love reading them. Happy Reading!

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: tons of angst with tons of fluff, sensitive harry???? (or do you guys call it sub!harry nowadays??) anyways it’s a cute!harry :P !

It’s been four hours, and you still weren’t back. Though it wasn’t new for you to go for a drive after an argument with him, you often came back within an hour or two. The blizzard outside was making Harry quite anxious. Even though the fight was extreme, he wanted you back safe and sound. He now realised how harsh he was on you. You didn’t intentionally leak the song. It was a mistake and it could happen to anyone, himself included. He felt guilty over the way he yelled at you; it wasn’t like him to react like that.

Suddenly, Harry felt the need to do something special for you. Though he planned on apologising to you verbally, he wanted his actions to prove it too. He made his way to the kitchen to cook you your favourite meal. He got a hold of his phone and switched on the playlist which include all the songs both of you enjoyed. the sound of the vessels clucking against each other minimised over the song playing on through the speakers.

A smile lit up on his face as he reminisced back to the moment when you were dancing to this song while making the two of you breakfast.

FLASHBACK

Harry rubbed his eyes as he walked down the stairs, his dimpled smile already making its appearance when he heard your voice blasting through the kitchen entrance. He didn’t know why you bothered turning the song on so loud, you were anyways going to be louder. He stopped at the kitchen entrance, a silent laugh escaped him as he leaned against the door frame and took in the scene going on in front of him.

“You say you want a good time! Well here I am, baby, here I am, baby” you belted out loud, cheeks turning red with the happiness radiating out of you. You’d decided that the whisk was your microphone of choice with batter stuck to it and everything. You’re moving those luscious hips which drive him crazy right to the rhythm of the song.

“Talk to me, talk to me, talk to me talk to me, tell me what's on your mind!” you missed a note but you don’t care. This scene right in front of him, he wished he could capture and watch it forever. Bruno Mars did bring a wild side out of you, and he couldn’t bring himself to be jealous of the multi-talented singer. He would give anything to see you like this. Knowing you’re the shy type who doesn’t enjoy too much of attention, getting to watch you like this was definitely a sight.

He walked right up to you and wrapped his arms around you slowly. You jumped in a scare, as you were lost in your own world. “Harry! You scared me.” You complained, trying to ignore the blush on you cheeks after you realised he must’ve been watching you from a far.

He nuzzled into your neck and sighed, while pressing a kiss there, “Hmm… I’m sorry, m’love. But you just looked so beautiful I didn’t want to stop you.” He murmured while pressing more kisses to your neck, then trailing them up to your jawline. “Y’ look utterly ravishing right now. Forget pancakes, instead I’ll have you for breakfast.” He smiled and went on to kiss your cheeks. His comments made you smile. He saw his chance and lightly bite the side of your cheek. You squealed and tried to push him away.

“H, stop!” you laughed. He tightened his arms around you and swayed to the beat of the song then went on to sing next lyric “Tell me baby, tell me, tell me baby what you tryna do!” he slightly lifted up your t-shirt and moved one of his hands under it, and muttered, “huh? What are you trying to do to me, baby?” and pressed yet another kiss to your cheek.

“Gosh, your hands are extremely cold!” you gasped. He then turned you around to face him. You instinctively wrapped your arms around him. The two of you smiled quietly towards each other, then he leaned down to kiss you properly. You shifted one of your hands into his the nape of his neck and the other went on to cup his cheek. He moved one of his around your shoulder and the other around your waist. Both of you sighed and bathed in each other’s presence.

“G’morning, froggy” you teased as pulled away first and smiled up at him. He frowned and tutted, then smacked your ass lightly. You always teased him for his morning face, said it looked like a cute frog. He rubbed the area he spanked and quickly pecked you once again before pulling away to look at you.

Brushing away the hair stuck to your face, “Morning, precious. How’re you feeling?” he asked, hugging you towards his chest. Let’s just say the rest of the day went on just like this. Him being needy for your attention, and you loving on him without any hold backs.

END OF FLASHBACK

Right as he was getting ready to plate the dish, the doorbell rang. He smiled, happy to finally have you home. He quickly washed his hands and walked up to the door as he rubbed his hand dry with the towel which was once on his shoulder. He buzzed you in thinking you’ll unlock the main door with the security code. But after two minutes of waiting and not seeing you walk through the door, he turned on the camera above his buzzer to see what was wrong.

He frowned when he saw two police officers standing outside his door. His heart suddenly started racing at rapid speed. He rushed towards the door and unlocked them. Coming face to face with the two sombre looking men, he tentatively asked, “G’ evening, officers. How may I help you?”

The two men exchanged looks and the tall one replied, “Sir, there has been an accident and we found an ID on the victim. Is this Ms. Y/N Y/L/N residence? we’re here to inform you about the unfortunate event.”

“I-I don’t understand? What happened?” he stuttered, his legs almost felt as if they were about to give up.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have much information for you. May we ask what’s your relation to the victim?” the other officer asked, and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Fiancé.” He cleared his throat, trying to calm himself down. He could feel his panic attack rising. “I’m her fian-” he shook his head, “Just tell me where she is please…” he pleaded and quickly put on his shoes. He took his car keys and raced up to his rover.

“She’s over at St. Thomas, Mr. Styles.” The officers had clearly recognised the distressed man. “Here’s her ID. We hope everything is well.”

Harry couldn’t bring himself to thank them as he started his car and backed out of the parking spot. He raced up to the hospital, and once he reached, he ran up to the reception.

“Y-Y/N Y/L/N? S-She just c-came in? I’m her f-fiancé?” He gasped out your name. The lady was busy tending to others to notice him. “Hey! Hey! Please ma’am just tell me where she is!” he was on the verge of weeping in front of her.

The old lady looked at him with a bit of annoyance, “Take a breath, young man. I’m trying my best here!” She walked up to him. “Now tell me, what was her name again?”

“Y/N Y/L/N!” He rushed. He couldn’t stand straight. Once he got what he wanted, he ran towards the elevator, up to the fifth floor. The corridor was busy and he couldn’t care less about pushing people aside. He just wanted to get to you as soon as he could. He found your door and barged in, not caring about the doctors around your bed.

“Y/N!” He rushed to your side, dropping beside your bed.

“Sir you can’t be her-” the male nurse tried to pull him back.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, precious!” He cried, trying to get the man off of him and get back to you. “I’m here now, okay? I’m not going anywhere- GET OFF ME. SHE NEEDS ME!” he yelled pushing the guy away.

“Hey man you’re no good to her at the moment yeah? Let the doctors do their job!” the nurse tried to make him understand while pulling him back yet again. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to reach to you. He sobbed over your state, blood was streaming down your forehead, and all he wanted to do was protect you and wrap his arms around you.

“No I need to be here! Please let me!” he cried. All of sudden a beep brought his cries to a halt. He looked around frantically wanting to know what had happened. “W-What’s wrong?!” he hiccupped.

The doctor and the nurses around him started rushing around the room. He then heard those words which made his heart stop, “She has flat-lined! Someone pass me the defibrillator!” the doctor raised his voice.

Harry couldn’t believe this was happening. The nurse had enough of the unwilling man and pushed him out the door, “Sir we cannot help her if you’re being difficult. Please calm down and go to the waiting room. We will inform you about her doing as soon as we can.” and then shut the door to his face. Harry could no longer see you. The group of doctors, covered your body.

He slid down the wall next to your door and sobbed into his hands. Only if he would’ve stopped you from leaving. Only if he would’ve told you that he forgives you and that he loved you more than anything. Only if he would’ve let the argument die and kiss you instead. Only if…

Later, the upset man walked himself to the toilet. He caught his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t care about his red swollen eyes, his sweaty forehead and matted hair. The image of you lying on that bed yet again brought tears to his eyes. The thought of you not making it made him retch and he rushed into one of the restrooms. He dry-heaved and cried. Once he was able to breathe, he took out his phone.

Sniffling as he dialled the only number he could think of, The voice on the other side made him breakdown. “Mum I-” he couldn’t complete his sentence, as he tried to wipe his eyes.

“Harry? Darling what’s wrong?!” she asked shocked at her son’s rapid breathing.

“Y/N s-she is- Mum I can’t lose her. I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have let her leave. What if she doesn’t make it?” He wept while running his sticky fingers through his hair.

“Love, what-” she tried to ask him, but he cut her off.

“What if she…What if she dies, mum?” he cried and coughed.

His mother had figured out by now that you were not okay, and might be admitted in the hospital. She tried to calm her son through the phone. Unfortunately, she wasn’t near him and by the time she would reach it might not be enough. So she did the only thing she could once Harry hung up the phone, she rang up his friends.

Harry sat himself down on one of the wating room chairs. No one was telling him anything, he had no idea how you were doing or if you were okay. He was out of tears, and soon enough the exhaustion took over him. He didn’t even realise when he had fallen asleep until he felt a hand brush the back of his head. He opened his eyes and saw his two friends crouching in front of him.

“Hey buddy…” Louis smiled softly. Harry jolted back up, and got up to run towards your room. But before he could stand up straight Mitch stopped him. “H, they just came in here to inform us about her condition.”

“How’s she? Is she okay? Is she awake? She needs me, I need to be beside her.” He rushed. His two close friends, tried to calm him down.

“They said she’s stable now, mate. But we aren’t allowed to meet her yet, okay?” Louis stated.

Harry took deep breaths and looking at their extremely destressed friend, Louis pulled him into a hug. Getting the comfort he desperately needed, Harry started sobbing again. He was tired of crying but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“Everything is going to be okay, Harry. She’s our little tigress, she’s going to pull through, yeah?” Mitch ran a hand drown his friend’s shoulder. Harry nodded lightly and tried to slow down his heart.

48 Hours Later

It’s been two days, yesterday Harry was allowed to visit you since they moved you out of the ICU. Thankfully, your internal recovery was rapid, and you could wake up anytime. He was getting a bit impatient. He wanted to see you open those shiny eyes and look at him the way you always did, with so much love that made him giddy and flustered. These past two days he’s been talking to you, continuously apologising for his behaviour, and how he’s going to make up for everything that went wrong. You just had to come back to him.

“and then Louis got frustrated because Mitch was not answering him. But that’s Mitch for you, right?” he slightly smiled and ran the hand which wasn’t holding you hand, through your hair. “You’re going to hate your hair, once you wake up. You always like them a certain way, don’t you? But don’t you worry, I’ll help you wash your hair as soon as you wake up and come back home.” He stated and kissed your hand. He was silent for a while, just continued to run his hand through your hair.

“You’re going to come back to me, right precious?” he asked quietly, “Why aren’t you waking up, huh? Your froggy needs you to open your eyes....” he continued, as he forced a laugh out of his throat which had a huge lump in it. His eyes turned misty as he continued, “I hate it here. Seeing you like this is a nightmare. I miss you so much. I miss you calling me annoying little names. I miss you smacking me when I’m being a narcissistic little prick. I miss your voice. I miss everything about you, and even though it’s just been two day, I feel like it’s been forever. Wake up, baby. Please…” he pleaded.

As the day turned into night, Harry decided to stay back. He asked for an extra blanket and a pillow for his makeshift bed on the couch. He didn’t know why he bothered because he spent the entire night sitting beside you, holding your hand as he fell asleep leaning against it.

You could listen before you could see. The only thing you could hear was the air conditioner and someone lightly snoring against your right hand. You tried to move your fingers as you opened your eyes. The bright light made you squint, you blinked rapidly as your vision cleared. You turned to your right and saw Harry’s peaceful face sleeping against your hand. You felt the need to clear your throat, and your eyes searched the room for a glass of water. But the sound made Harry wake up from his sleep. He lifted his face and wiped the little drool from his face and the little amount on your hand.

“whoops, you’d kill me now if you were awak-” he turned to look at your face, and he had to double take. He gasped, almost falling off this chair. “Y/N…Oh my- you’re awake!” he nearly yelled. He pressed the button to call the nurse and then cupped your face going on to press kisses to your face, “Baby I was so scared. I thought I had lost you!” He laughed his airy laugh and looked at you with utter happiness.

For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. The words he said to you were the only thing swimming through your mind. For you time had stood still, like the fight had happened mere hours ago. You moved your face away from his hands. Harry frowned noticing this change in your mood.

“Hey what’s wrong? The doctor is on her way, yeah. Do y’need anything?” he asked frantically following your eyes round the room. He saw you eye the plastic cup beside your bed, “Y’ want water? Hold on I’ll get it for you.” He ran to the other side and brought the cup up to your face. You didn’t realise how thirsty you were until the first sip hit your throat, you started gulping it down quickly.

“Take it easy, precious. They took out the tube just yesterday.” He explained softly.

Once your thirst was quenched he kept the cup aside then went on to pull his sleeve over his knuckles and wiped the wet corners of your mouth. You moved your face aside yet again, he couldn’t understand what was wrong. But before he could ask you, the doctor came in to check on you. She did her tests and asked a few questions. She left as soon as she was done, and told you even though the injury looked worse than it actually is, you had take it easy for a couple of days.

Neither of you spoke for a few minutes, “How’re you feeling, love?” he asked quietly. You nodded, “I’m okay.” He came up to you and raised his hand to caress your cheek. But before he could touch you, your head turned to the opposite side. He couldn’t take it anymore, so he asked you.

“Will you please look at me? What’s happened, precious?” as he caressed your hair.

“Why should I look at you, Harry? So you can tell me how careless I am, or how I’m not trustworthy?” you rasped quietly. For a minute he was unable understand what you were trying to say. Then flashbacks from your fight the other night came back rushing to him. The things he said to you, and how guilty he felt later. His words had left a huge impact than he thought they did.

He took your face in his hand with very much to little force, he had to tell you this, “Y/N y’have absolutely no idea for how sorry I am for that night-” but you didn’t let him complete.

“That’s only because I got into this accident.” You snapped. He shook his head rapidly, he saw you getting worked up over this. You’ve always been a little firecracker, and you never failed to tell him when he was being a dick or to defend yourself quite amazingly, he always loved that quality. Apropos, he couldn’t let you hurt yourself in this condition.

“First of all, please calm down-” he started, “don’t tell me to calm down, harry!” you raged. He hated himself for smiling when you’re clearly very upset. But for the past few days he had to witness you lie there lifeless which had taken a toll on his mental state. He loved the fact that you were awake, so you yelling at him was more of a reward than a punishment. You looked at him sharply and saw him not taking you seriously, this brought tears to your eyes.

You sniffled and looked away from him to rest your head against the pillows on the raised up side of your bed roughly. Harry’s small smile melted away as quickly as it appeared. He rubbed the side you almost banged to the pillow, “I’m so sorry, precious. I swear I did not mean anything I said.” He pleaded and took a seat down on the chair beside you.

Right then the nurse which pushed him out of the room the other day and now was much like a friend to him entered the room with a tray which had a bowl of soup and jello in it. Harry smiled at him gratefully and took the tray from him as the guy set up the table on your bed.

“How’re you feeling, Ms. Y/L/N?” he asked once he was ready to leave. You gave him a small smile and said you were feeling better. The moment he left Harry looked back at you with a longing look on his face, when you refused to look at him he sighed and set the tray down on the small table and took a seat in front you on the bed. He looked at you as he removed the metal spoon from its cover, and then went on to remove the cover set on top of the soup. He blew light air on the spoonful of soup, then brought it up to your mouth. You refused to touch it. He sighed and looked at you pleadingly, “Y’ know someone told me we shouldn’t remove our anger on food.” He stated, turning your words against you.

You glared at him in anger for minute as he looked at you with a loving smile. “Please?” He moved it closer to your mouth, “You’ve got to eat it, I’m not budging unless you do, Y/N.”

Even though you wanted to stay stubborn, you were kind of hungry. So you let him feed you the soup. When he got to the jello, you refused profoundly. “But it’s the chocolate flavoured one! Remember the time we used to share one when I was here for my fractured foot? C’mon we’ll share this one too, if y’want?” he tried convincing you with his soft eyes.

“I don’t want to share it with you. Actually, I don’t want anything to do with you at the moment to be completely honest.” you snapped. You were aware of the fact that you were being very unreasonable and bitchy but it was his words that has caused extreme hurt to you. Your words hurt Harry, and it was evident on his face. He wrapped up the jello and cleared everything. The day passed, and in the evening your last visitor entered the room.

“There she is!” Louis came up to you and hugged you lightly, making sure not to hurt you. “Hello, darling. How’re you?” he kissed your forehead. Harry left you alone with him as he went to get the two of them some coffee.

“What’s happened to him? Why the long face still? I mean I get that Harry loves to pretend that he’s this macho man and all. S’ a bit ridiculous to be honest. Like who’s he kidding, he’s a puppy.” Louis laughed. You smiled at this.

“I’m still a bit upset with him over our fight. So I haven’t been talking to him.” You explained. Louis frowned at this and then sighed, “Oh love don’t do that... This has been very tough for him. Should’ve seen his state these past few days. The man has been a mess ever since the officers came to your house that night.”

“I’m trying, Lou. But I just can’t forget all the things he said. I was so hurt, I still am!” you rubbed your forehead, as it was beginning to give you an ache.

“He’s very sorry, Y/N. Trust me when I say that I’ve never seen him like I saw him that day. He just wanted you to wake up. He was just blaming himself, how he shouldn’t have let you leave the house.” He took a hold of your hand, “he loves you so much, darling. He’s absolutely mad over you.” He rubbed your hand, “A’bit obsessed if you ask me. If I were you I’d have him get that checked with a therapist.” He joked, you laughed loudly. He smiled with you, and passed you the water you signalled for.

“Forgive him, Y/N. He can’t even bring himself to go home. The only time he went there was to get some clothes, and to put the dinner he made for you in the rubbish bin.” He sassed. “and I know I’m speaking for Mitch too here when I say this, but both him and I could use a break from all the non-stop stress weeping calls we’ve been getting from him.” You gasped at him with a mock offence for Harry, and lightly smacked his shoulder. You were always thankful for Louis in moments like these. He was a great friend to you and Harry.

Harry came back with two coffees and passed one to his blue-eyed friend. He took a seat on the sofa which was against the wall, and the three of you, though it was mostly you and Louis, had a light conversation while the men finished up their coffee. Louis bid his farewell with another kiss on your forehead and a well wish, you thanked him and waved goodbye. Harry walked him out the door, and came back in a second later.

“Y’ need anything?” He asked as he took a seat on the chair beside you. You shook your head as you observed him fidgeting with the cuticles of his nails. He did that when he was anxious.

Neither of you spoke for a while. But the minute you heard a sniffle, you snapped your head towards him. You tried to get a look at his face, the tip of his nose was a bit red and he was now fidgeting with his feet too. He wasn’t crying but he sure was on the verge of it.

You suddenly felt an overwhelming amount of love for the man in front of you. You leaned against your bed and sighed, smiling a little. It’s pathetic how in love you were with each other. You couldn’t even stay mad at him.

“Harry?” You whispered softly. He hummed without looking up. So you continued, “I need you to do something” you faked a stern voice to play with him a bit more.

“Yeah sure, what’s it?” he muttered as he got up and rubbed his hands down his thighs, then finally looked at you. You looked at him without an expression and said, “I need you to come here and give me a good cuddle, a kiss too if I like the cuddle.” And then smiled at him lovingly. He looked at you for a second. You almost thought he was going to yell at you, but the opposite happened. He started tearing up and heavy tear drops ran down his cheeks.

You gasped and quickly leaned forward to take a hold of his hand which was near you. “Oh Harry..” You whispered as you pulled him near you. He the minute you sat him in front of you, he started crying heavily. You were so shocked yet you’ve never been more mesmerised by him. You quickly tried wiping his tears away and comforted him, “Honey, don’t cry. I’m not upset anymore!”

“I-I’m honestly s-sorry! I promise I didn’t mean what I said that day, Y/N!” he tried to speak while wiping his tears.

“I know, babe. I know!” you tried to say it properly but it came out in a laughing manner and tried to draw the crying man close to you, but seeing you laugh made him more upset and he pushed you away lightly, so you forcefully pulled him into a cuddle.

He told himself he’s letting himself be pulled because he didn’t want to hurt you, but it was actually because he wanted you close, so he went in head first. You lay down against the pillows and cuddle him against your chest. He went on sniffling into your neck and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Harry why are you crying!” you tried controlling your laughter. He whined and pulled his face away, “Y’were so fucking mean since the moment you woke up. I didn’t expect it.” He said and hiccupped, thanks to the sobbing breakdown he just had. You pulled on your lips so you wouldn’t smile.

“Well now you know, honey. It hurts, doesn’t it? You were so mean to me too!” You teased. He nuzzled back into your neck, pressing kisses there which always made you giggle.

“I’m really sorry, precious. Honestly, I really am.” He said into your neck, yet producing another hiccup. You couldn’t control yourself anymore so you smiled and pressed a quite a few smooches to his temple, and inhaled his comforting scent.

“It’s okay, baby. I forgive you. I’m sorry for my foolish mistake too, I really didn’t mean to ruin your hard work like that.” You apologised. He pulled away and brought the hand that was around your waist to your cheek and said, “I forgave you a long time ago, but you honestly don’t have to apologise at all. It could happen to anyone, m’love. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Y’know I made dinner and everything as an apology. But then the officers…” his tone dropped and he couldn’t continue. So, you sadly smiled and pulled him in for a kiss.

He sighed and reciprocated the kiss with so much love and passion that you couldn’t help but wrap the arm which around his shoulder a bit more tighter and ran the other through the back of his head gently. The two of you pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes, he moved the hair that escaped from your braid and tucked it behind your ear, “I was so scared. I thought I had lost you.” He whispered softly, and swallowed the small lump, “I missed you a lot, baby” he said and you couldn’t help but peck his cute pout.

“I missed you too, froggy” you replied. The pet name made him reward you with a dimpled smile. He nuzzled into your neck and whispered, “I love you.”

“and I love you.” You kissed his forehead.

“Just for your information, I’m not letting you out of my sight for a really long time.” He stated sternly.

You laughed but stopped when you saw he wasn’t joking, “You know I have to work, right?”

“Y’can easily take a break for a month or two.” He said, as he yawned and cuddle closer to you. “A MONTH OR TWO?! Have you gone mad?” you gasped, lightly pulling on his hair.

“No I haven’t. Try to get rid of me, baby. I dare you.” He laughed a scheming laugh. You knew he wasn’t joking. He tended to become quite paranoid and obsessive over you when situations like these occur. But you wouldn’t have him any other way.

“We’ll see, mister.” You said, and caressed the back of his head.

“oh we will, missus.”

The End.

Author’s Note: I really put in a lot of efforts on this one, so you guys kind of owe me *wink* y'all gotta humour my praise kink now!!! ;P

Love you guys!

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starlightblueninja · 3 years

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Ciao! can I please request headcanons for the bayverse turtles with a gender neutral S/O where they’re hanging out one day and they have music playing on shuffle, but then the reader suddenly starts crying because they used to listen to that song all the time when they were little and it just hit them right in the childhood? Comfort ensues 👉🏽👈🏽 please. and thank you.

Hey!

Thanks for the request! This took a little while because it’s my first one and I wanted it to be nice UwU and I enjoyed playing around with the bois being comforting since I’ve never really done that before. Hope you enjoy 💙♥️🧡💜💚 @sleeplessdreamer14

Leonardo

You’re laying on the couch reading while Leo’s doing katas about ten feet away. Every now and again you’ll look up at him, smiling as his practiced movements resemble a dance. Mikey left some playlist running in the background on his boombox before disappearing to make food, and normally music with lyrics makes it difficult for you to read but you were only really half paying attention to the book. You almost enjoy watching Leo practice more anyway.

The music barely distracts you, at least until you hear that… familiar intro. The rest of the world kind of fades away as the song takes you back years.

Nostalgia clogs your senses, eyes watering before you know it and a lump forming in the back of your throat as you try to hold back from crying. You close the book in your lap and let the music fill your senses. It’s been a while since you’ve heard this one. Memories resurface and you try to simply blink away the tears, but it’s inevitable, they fill your eyes until your vision is watery.

“Hey,” you look up to see Leo sitting down next to you, his eyes filled with concern but voice gentle and comforting as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s dumb, but… this song just… takes me back,” you respond quietly. “I used to listen to it a lot when I was younger.”

You wipe your eyes with your free hand just as Leo takes your other hand in his. His warm, strong, big hand in yours makes the tears easier to swallow. You squeeze his palm reassuringly and he moves a little closer to you before you continue talking.

“It reminds me of the places I used to go and the friends I used to have, feels like a lifetime ago, when things were less… complicated.”

Leo perfectly understands the wish for things to be easy, and he understands how it feels to not want to carry responsibilities. He knows what it’s like to have a weight on your shoulders. And so, instead of telling you it’s dumb or offering simple platitudes, he presses a kiss to your knuckles and nods in understanding.

“I miss it,” you say simply.

“If it’s any consolation,” he starts. “I’m glad that you’re here now.”

You look up at him with watery eyes but you’re wearing a crooked smile at his remark. The song still plays on in the background but right now you’re more focused on the way the terrapin kisses your forehead and buries his face in your hair. You feel his inhale taking in your scent and you smile against his collarbone, relaxing against him.

Yeah, you still miss your old friends and family, when things were easy and you bore less of the world on your shoulders. But for now you have him, and really, what else do you need?

Raphael

Raph’s got his workout playlist on while you sit next to him, bantering back and forth with him as he does his routine. The music is a surprisingly varied mix, you didn’t expect to hear the couple of 80s pop and early 2000’s girl band songs that you did. You teased him a little about it at first but it was all well meaning.

You don’t really notice what song is playing until about halfway through the first verse. You know this song too well. It’s been a long time since you last heard it, though, and maybe that’s why it affects you the way it does now. Raph had been saying something, but his voice kind of fades away as your focus shifts to the music and the memories it brings back.

Flashes of your childhood flit past your mind’s eye. The good, the bad, the in between, and all the other things you thought you had forgotten about. You don’t even realize there’s tears in your eyes until they’re falling, running hot trails down your cheeks and it’s too late to try and hold them back.

“Hey, hey baby, what’s wrong?” Raph must have noticed you go quiet since now he’s kneeling in front of you with so much concern on his face. “You okay? ‘S it somethin’ I said?”

“No! No no no,” you’re quick to reassure him and he relaxes, but only minutely since it’s clear you’re still upset. “I-It’s stupid, don’t worry about it.”

“‘Ey, don’t say that, whatever it is, it ain’t stupid,” his hand sets itself gently on your knee.

“I just used to listen to this song as a kid a lot, takes me back.”

He’s sat down in front of you now, cross-legged just as you are so your knees are touching his, “That ain’t stupid.”

His hand brushes away the tears from one side of your face, your own hand coming up to dry the other side before you lean into his warm touch. The way his hand cups your cheek comforts you immensely.

“Feels stupid to cry over it.”

But he knows what it’s like to miss the innocence lost with age, so he pinches your cheek lightly and playfully in disagreement, bringing a smile to your face even as you push his hand away.

“I can turn it off if ya want,” he offers gently, and you hesitate before shaking your head no.

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine,” you respond.

“Whatever ya say, shorty.”

And with that you two are right back to your usual lighthearted teasing. He leaves a chaste kiss on your forehead before he goes back to working out, the memories fading away to make room for the new ones you make with him. He makes sure to remember exactly what song it is, though, and you don’t consciously pick up on this fact but you never actually hear it from any of his playlists again after that moment.

Donatello

You two often sit in peaceful quiet. Donnie will work on his projects, you sitting there on your phone or working on your own stuff, occasionally handing him various tools when he needs them. He’s often got something going on in the background, usually podcasts or heavy music when he’s alone, but always soft music when you’re around so he doesn’t miss if you say something to him. Like now, with him under the truck fixing something and you sitting cross-legged a few feet away playing a puzzle game on your phone. You’re waiting patiently for him to be done. Bed time for you two was about an hour ago now but you know how important this fix is for him and that it should really be done tonight. So you don’t press the issue but you are ready to sleep.

You don’t often notice the music he’s got playing unless it’s a song you really like or dislike, it’s just some shuffled Spotify playlist that he thinks fits the vibe of today. But you notice immediately when that song starts playing. It’s so familiar to you, after listening to it so much in the past, that it would be shameful not to recognize it now.

Your vision goes blurry as your focus shifts away from your current self. You’re reminded of the past, the radio in your old house, your parents, the way they always had the same station playing in the house and in the car and at cookouts. You’ve heard this song so much now that it immediately throws you back into the past. It happens so fast you might as well have whiplash, but you just get misty eyed instead.

Your bottom lip trembles, warm lines running down your cheeks soon after and Donnie notices quickly that something is up when you don’t respond to his request for the torx screwdriver. He slides out from under the truck but you don’t even notice at first. The music has all but consumed you now.

“Y/N? Darling, what’s wrong?” He’s immediately at your side, a large hand gently on your bicep pulling you back to reality.

You look up at him but realize that it’s a little hard to see him with the way the tears have pooled. He can’t help but think that, even though he hates hates hates seeing you upset, that those tears make your eyes glisten so beautifully under the lights.

His other hand not on your arm comes up to brush the tears away as he repeats the question now that he’s got your focus.

“I used to listen to this song a lot as a kid,” you supply an answer softly, gaze falling from his. “Just makes me sad… I dunno why, I guess it just kinda hit me. Sorry.”

“No, no, dove, don’t apologize,” he says. “I understand and you’re alright, I’ve got you here, now.”

His sugar sweet words and oh so gentle hands comfort you. You offer a watery smile before moving into his arms, letting him wrap his arms around you. You return the hug the best you can with his shell in the way, face tucked into the crook of his shoulder, and he can feel the way more tears fall from your eyes and onto his skin. He doesn’t mind though, he simply holds you. He enjoys just holding you even if he’s never admitted it out loud before. He likes knowing he can be there for you.

And he may not fully understand how your memories attached to this song make you upset, but he understands the pain and will do anything to make you feel better.

His hands run over your back, soothing trails on your shoulder blades over your shirt. Then he’s reaching for a remote he set nearby to turn the radio off. He doesn’t even need to ask you anything to know when you want his hands back on you.

“You’re the best,” you say when your gaze has fully refocused and the tears have calmed.

“No, actually, I think that’s you,” he responds, before pressing a kiss to your hair and deciding to bring you to bed, putting off the truck repairs for grumpy morning-Donnie in favor of treating you like a queen now.

Michelangelo

You and Mikey will play a video game together quietly with music on in the background. Sometimes you’ll lay on his chest and watch him play, but in times like this, when the week has been rough and you both need some quiet down time, you lay on opposite ends of the couch with your legs tangled together playing a multi-player game that relaxes both of you. Tonight it’s Minecraft, and though you both like the music of the game, you’d both agreed on having a playlist on too.

You’re mining out a coal deposit in the game when you hear that song come on the background. Mikey notices faster than any of his other brothers would that something is off. He can practically smell how the air around you sours.

Childhood memories flood back to you as you recognize every line of the song as it plays, pulling you back and away from the now. Good memories give you life vests in the flood, bad memories tie weights to your ankles. You’ve paused in the game, your character just staring at the block wall. People, places, events, all of it suddenly overwhelms you as the music plays.

Mikey is on you in seconds though, throwing himself into your arms as soon as he notices that there’s an issue. You’ve got a lap-full of buff turtle man pulling you back into the present.

“Babycakes, you smell grump, what’s wrong?” He says while littering chaste kisses across your face.

He doesn’t even give you the time to get truly upset, let alone start crying, as he’s so in-tune to your emotions that he’s always right there to comfort you.

“I’m okay, baby,” you responds, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Just… thinking about childhood stuff. This song reminded me of it.”

“This song?” He says, suddenly jumping up.

You don’t know where he’s going but can see the humor practically dripping off of him. He storms up to the boombox, blatantly glaring at it. While watching him poke the speaker a few times like he’s threatening one of the many criminals he often fights, you can’t help but smile. He’s so lovely, and always knows how to make you laugh.

“You!” He snaps at the machine like it’s sentient, the same song still playing. “What’d you say to my girl, huh? Punk? Wanna act like a tough guy now? Too late, fella.”

You laugh as he jabs his finger at the skip song button and it changes to something different. You like this song, Hopeless by Khalid, Mikey likes it too. His attention is recaptured when you laugh at his antics. He smiles at you before making his way back over to the couch, crawling easily back into your arms as you continue giggling.

He kisses you before booping your nose, “Don’t be sad about the past, cherry tomato, we got the whole future ahead of us.”

“Cherry tomato?”

“Yeah,” he says, offering no further explanation as he relaxes on top of you with his controller, easily shifting back into the game.

He’s quick to go from one thing to another, but you can tell he’s truly there for you when he continues to lay his head on you, announcing that he’s coming to find you in-game. Every now and again he presses a little kiss to your stomach or chest, wherever his lips meet in that moment. Your confusing and bittersweet past is left buried under your love for your beautiful, caring, protective terrapin.

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julyarchives · 3 years

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Thicker Than Blood || (M) || Ch. 01

Growing up in a tough neighborhood had you learning to deal with hard situations, the occasion leads you to cooperate with the mafia organization that took care of your neighborhood - Pentagon. Looking after yourself and valuing your safety brought you to adapt to the moment, but the line between working for them and protecting yourself is very blurry when you are forced to live under their roof.

→ Pairing: Pentagon OT9 x Reader

→ Genre: Smut; Mafia AU.

→ Words: 2.2K

→ Contains: Mentions of Alcohol; Mentions of Violence.

→ A/n: So this is our Pentagon Mafia AU Series! This story will be multi-chaptered and we will add more tags as the story goes on, we have big plans for it! We hope you guys like it and it is worth the wait!

→ Index: 01 • 02 • 03

Chapter 01 - The Collectors

The cute jeans and red t-shirt you wore barely matched the bar you currently were on behind the counter. The place was quite nice but it was still too rustic for your liking, too brown and dark. Usually, the customers were rustic as well, and had a certain grumpiness to them, just like the place. You shrugged for the nth time while lost in thoughts. Working at a bar on a Tuesday night was the perfect situation for boredom, and bored you were.

Thinking back, you barely understood how you got the job anyway, walking in there one day to kick your friend's ass for drinking while you had a job to do with him and the owner liked your style. He needed someone behind the counter, you needed the money, it was perfect. You were rather young and sweet, you knew that often resolving some complicated shit and arguments in the bar but you also knew how to answer when needed and to take no one's shit home, you still stood up for yourself. Ok so maybe working at a bar was the perfect job for you.

Not wanting to dwell on how you wanted a better paid perfect job, you busied yourself by watching the entrance. It was Tuesday, so you've been kind of anxious the whole day waiting for them to show up. You almost gave your excitement away when two figures entered the bar and sat in front of you on the bar stools.

"Hello, boys. The usual?", you asked them with a bright smile.

"Please, Y/N".

"Right away", you chipped as you turned to get them their cold drinks. It'd be funny to see them drink a sweet cocktail instead of anything stronger if you didn't know them a bit better.

Wooseok and Yuto were young. Sweet and awkward boys that most older people liked and wanted to pamper. That's what you heard anyway whenever you spoke to the neighbors. You also knew they were attached to the hip, always together and always messing with each other. They had a third part to their best friend dynamic and you only saw him a few times at the bar, but you knew they clearly loved each other as brothers.

But that information didn't add up to the other information you had on the boys. The reason you expected them every Tuesday was because of their work. And that was what confused you. As every person in the region knew, there was only one force to respect and listen and that was the Pentagon gang. No, not a gang. It was straight down mafia business and these two cute young boys were their collectors. So every Tuesday they went out to collect the fee from every block and at the end, they'd crash at the bar to chat and drink something.

Seeing them every week made you realize how nice they were and quickly put the whole mafia business behind them. You, better than anyone, understood that you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. Since then, Wooseok and Yuto became more open with you and always brought back gossip when they had a good day. After all, mafia men were still men. Well, boys.

"Here you go, guys", you placed the drinks down and smiled sweetly.

"Thanks, Y/N", Yuto had a deep voice and it always managed to startle you.

"So, any gossip?", you chuckled and the boys followed, lowering their heads as if to share a secret with you.

"Guy from the butcher shop was working alone", Wooseok said, "caught his employee with his girl".

"No way!", you truly were shocked at the irrelevant news.

"Yep", he said while Yuto nodded. "Oh, and someone's trying to get inside our territory. We saw a warning at a wall, directed at us and, well, at all of you".

"What?!", you shouted and they looked at you like you just offended their entire family. You were confused. One, why were they telling you information that may be confidential? Two, how could they speak about something dangerous so casually?

"We have orders to let you know, actually", Yuto said as if he was reading your mind. "We know who these people are but not their faces. We thought maybe they'd start by frequenting a place where they can get more intel on our people".

"Here then".

"Hm, yeah", Wooseok nodded. "The warning only said to be careful who is loyal to us or the community would show us. We guess they want to turn people against us"

"More people, more money. An entire neighborhood against us wouldn't be controlled by usual methods. So, that's when you come in".

"If you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, then no way". You were bold enough to talk back and they only raised their eyebrows at you.

"We only need you to be on the lookout for someone different", Wooseok clarified, "if there's at least one person asking the wrong questions about the community, you gotta let us know".

"Helps if we can identify a face", Yuto shrugged.

"Do I have a say in this?", you already knew the answer.

"As much as you do about our fee, Y/N".

"Fine. But if they come for me, I won't wait for your boys to come to rescue me. I'll bolt", you said with a sigh in defeat.

"You won't be alone", Wooseok said as Yuto typed away on an old phone. "You'll be getting a visit from tomorrow on, he's our shapeshifter, blends in wherever".

"If you have a guy like that, why put me to watch anyone?"

"Y/N", Yuto sighed and looked straight into your eyes. "We could burst into any safe house right now and do whatever we pleased with whoever was in our way. But we do value our community, that's why we got hold of this business in the first place. The bar is where everyone comes for information and you know that. Don't forget why you're behind this counter, to begin with. We need the bartender to do her job and chat with her customers as she does. The info will come to you".

"I-", you were starstruck and kept glancing from Yuto to Wooseok, hands on the counter. "I- this is the most you have spoken to me since we met". It came out accidentally and you wanted to slap yourself.

Wooseok laughed and Yuto smiled at you. You could feel the heat on your cheeks but only nodded to yourself, still processing everything. They finished their drinks in one big gulp and got up, Yuto nodding at you still with a cute smile on his lips, one that didn't match his previous words. Wooseok watched as Yuto walked out of the bar and chuckled at your expression that slowly was turning grumpy.

"I know you'll do just fine. It's not like us to put people in our business but to protect people, we need you", he was leaning forward, as if to make you see him and only him. "So, congratulations, you got promoted!", he laughed.

"Yeah, I'm the lookout kid", you definitely were grumpy now. "You need me to protect people but who protects me?".

"Me", Wooseok said a bit too fast. "I mean, Pentagon does. And you'll have the right company for that, don't worry. He'll be here tomorrow night".

Wooseok smiled at you again and turned away from you, leaving you to your thoughts. Why the hell was this happening? You got why this way was safer to find out who was behind the threat but you still were unsure. Well, it's not like you could say no without a valid reason. And apparently, your safety wasn't one.

You watched Wooseok leave and sighed. Getting their glasses to clean up, you kept thinking about all the things that could go wrong but also all the things that could go right. Part of you wanted to impress them and come out as a hero, it'd give you something else to do instead of just being the bartender. You laughed at the absurdity of it all and quickly shoved it all in the back of your head, deciding to let the future self deal with the situation and this guy who'd meet you tomorrow, slipping back into the boredom of a Tuesday night at the bar once again.

Laying on your bed, your mind raced nonstop and you couldn't sleep no matter how much you tried. Yuto's words kept coming back and you felt even more deflated each time. "Don't forget why you're behind this counter, to begin with". You knew your upbringing was shitty and you had to fend for yourself a long time but you honestly thought that it didn't matter much until now.

Your parents fled when you were eight. They had some issues with themselves and suddenly having a family became too much of a cage for them and they fled. They left you with your grandmother and never came back. Your grandma was a saint, she was sweet and loving but she was sick enough to not be able to work, so you toughen up and started bringing money home by twelve years old.

You smiled thinking about how she raised you with such care and love that you managed to get that trait from her even if the streets treated you like shit. You discovered soon enough that all the love your grandma had was all the love you could get because no one liked a little girl who put her hands on whatever she could find to sell and get hers. You met a few people while you grew up and managed to turn out just fine even if it bruised you more than you liked to admit.

When you were around seventeen your grandma passed, you thankfully blocked whatever memory you had of her suffering and only focused on her happy memories. Since then you got her small and simple house and got more involved in the community, everyone who respected your grandma finally understanding why you were a kid like you were. Fast forward a few years and you got the job at the bar and things got a bit better.

You got up from the bed and scoffed at how things were mostly shoved on your face enough that you had to go with the flow every time. Fucking Pentagon taking over the neighborhood when you were a kid and now this. You heard more than participated in the whole protecting mafia business when you were younger, but the situation wasn't strange to you. Getting around in the streets you knew things and the most important one was to follow the organization's rules.

When you were twelve and started to hit the streets, you knew very well to not mess with the men from the org. But also soon enough you learned that the best way to earn anything good was to be on their good side. So you started to run a few errands for them and earned a good amount. Of course, you had nothing to do with them but still, it was a good connection. You didn't know much about the members in the hierarchy but you were sure that no one from the time you were a kid was still in their ranks.

You were sure mafia business was very harsh and violent but the boss was too violent once upon a time and things got out of hand. The neighborhood they swore to protect was being targeted and they brought the fight to all people. Fortunately, it ended after a few months of much fear and blood around the streets and you heard they all changed members. Rumor had it that it was their kids that took over when the parents died during the more violent times, at least in the high ranks. But you had stopped tending to them a few months before it went down so you had no idea for sure.

You only knew that Pentagon had a hard time getting people's trust again and started a more gentle approach with the community, hence why Wooseok and Yuto were dear to some people under their wings. They went over to everyone who had helped them directly and formally thanked and apologized for their trouble. Of course, they still terrified people who walked out of line and when the community respected them again, it was clear they were in charge. But now it seemed like they only cared about their own business and getting richer with their schemes instead of getting involved in a bloody gun war.

You realized you were standing in the middle of the corridor getting lost in thought and laughed to yourself before finishing the path to the kitchen to get water. The cold water helped you calm down and soon you were too busy sitting on the couch looking for any silly reality show to get lost into.

Halfway through the episode, you felt the sleep taking over you but being comfortable on the couch made you just pull a cover you kept there over you and stayed there, falling asleep in seconds. It was a very rough and long day, so you welcomed the slumber gratefully. Little did you know that while you succumbed to sleep in the living room, your phone buzzed in your bedroom, a small text that should be completely out of line appearing.

We trust you to do this safely but count on me to help. -WS.

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bunny-xoxo · 3 years

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To Call You Mine

college!tsuki x reader series

Ch. 1 - study buddies

warning(s): swearing, early early mornings 😵‍💫, second hand embarrassment LOL

a/n: ahhhhh!! Here’s chapter one of my first series!! I have the masterlist and details linked above but for some quick info: this is a college!au multi chapter fic about tsuki and the reader :) if you’d like to be added to the taglist let me know!! And as always I really appreciate your thoughts and comments n all that :) my inbox is always open!!! Enjoy <3 psps - don’t forget to check out the playlist linked above hhehehe

You’re not sure what woke you first; your alarm, the pain shooting up your back from the stiff cot your university has the audacity to refer to as a “bed”, or your own sour attitude from having to be up so early.

Five am. Five am. It takes a certain kind of sick and twisted individual to suggest meeting up to study at five in the morning. Although, you have to admit, it does take a different kind of person to actually agree to those terms.

Why, why, why, why, why.

Is the mantra you chant to yourself while you mindlessly dress and pack your bag, not even bothering to snatch a power bar from your nightstand for breakfast. Water will have to do.

You make an effort to click the door shut behind you quietly, not wanting to wake up your more than sweet dorm mate who’d surely be focusing on being just as careful as you were right now.

“Oh my gosh, don’t you have that study date in the morning sweetie? You should be sleeping right now.” Bonnie, said dorm mate, leans over the back of your desk chair to peer down at the page of your calculus ll textbook you’ve been staring at for the past ten minutes. Concern is evident in her voice and her body language as she brings up a hand to gingerly rub your shoulder, hoping her small sideways smile will give you a sense of comfort. Or maybe even convince you to give it, and yourself, a rest.

“I know, I know. I just want to be prepared is all. I’m already dropping past a C at the speed of light and I’m sure my professor thinks I’m an idiot, hence him actually setting me up with a tutor, and I don’t need this guy to think I’m one too.” Your head falls in your hands at the end of your sentence, a dramatic groan feeling needed to really emphasize your point, too.

“Okay, just head to bed soon.” She placed a kiss on the top of your head before crawling into her own bed, using a storage container to prop herself onto it properly. She almost made you homesick with the way she doted on you like she was your mother.

You looked over and tapped the screen of your phone to see it read 9:14, not too late. You could reasonably cram in one more lesson.

You scoffed at yourself with the door fully shut and locked. You should’ve listened to Bonnie when you had the chance, it was just past midnight when you finally tore yourself away from last weeks review and decided to get ready for bed. Barely even four hours later and you’re up and getting ready to look at it all again.

You could at least appreciate how quiet the dorm hall was this ea-

“Mornin’, you!”

You internally banged your head against the wall at the bright voice that came towards you with such heavy and loud footsteps, how can someone’s footsteps manage to be so loud on carpet?

You substituted a hello with a gentle smile and wave as your R.A., who definitely didn’t remember your name - which is fine cause you didn’t remember theirs either, rushed past you.

Sighing deeply, you left the warm confines of the dorm building and stepped into the cold and brisk morning, starting your trek to the library.

He couldn’t have even chose a coffee place or something?

You had some, thoughts, about this guy. You didn’t know much about him, only two things.

One, his name: Tsukishima Kei.

Two, he was a good enough student to be assigned to you as a tutor.

You swallowed your slight embarrassment at the thought of your professor reaching out to someone on your behalf and instead chose to focus more on how weird this guy has to be.

Waking up before the sun rises on a Sunday was not something you looked forward to, you don’t think anybody would truly; especially to meet someone for the first time; yet this guy thinks it’s a great idea. So much so he didn’t even think to ask first, just tell you when and where to meet.

Thursday 4:14 pm

- ‘It’s Tsukishima. See you at 5 in the library this sunday.’

- ‘Oh hi!! Oh ok, am or pm?? lol’

Thursday 7:43 pm

- ‘am.’

- ‘Ok cool, see ya then!’

And that was it. Neither of you have texted since, which was three days ago on a Thursday afternoon. It kind of bothered you really, I mean, what kind of self righteous ass-

You took a deep breath and chose to think happy thoughts instead. You’d much rather be in a somewhat pleasant mood when you meet this guy than have some grudge against a stranger. And he probably talks different than he texts, right? You’re sure he didn’t mean to sound like a complete jerk.

You shook your head as if you were shaking away your thoughts as you started to walk along the path to the library. It was a fairly nice walk, about five minutes, and being alone was kind of peaceful on the way there this early.

Your feet shuffled only slightly on the cold concrete surprisingly enough considering the way your fatigue was starting to creep into your joints - but surely the cold wasn’t helping.

It was that kind of morning cold that stung your nostrils when you breathed in and tickled your cheeks and ears. It made your hands clench and unclench in your coat pockets, debating whether or not it’d be worth it to pull the cold metal of your jacket zipper just a centimeter higher in hopes of keeping your neck warmer. The morning fog leaving droplets on the synthetic material of your coat, making it squeak awfully when you moved your arms. And there was the dew on the grass that’d cling onto the tops of your shoe when you had to walk through it.

But the way the old fashioned light posts lit your walk and illuminated the fog kind of made your slight discomfort worth it. And by the time you reached the tall brick library, you could almost say you were in a pleasant mood, almost. And then you remembered why you were here.

You took one final deep breath as you reached the heavy doors of the university library. It was a grand sight really.

The building had its own separate spot on campus, towering at about four stories high, which although didn’t sound ginormous, it definitely felt that way when you had to climb those stairs to the top floor for a book you really didn’t even want. The brick with the foliage creeping up the sides to cover some of the lower windows even gave it an almost magic feeling when you took it in from the outside, it’s too bad that sense of wonder couldn’t be mirrored on the inside.

It was too quiet, especially this early, it smelt almost stale, and everything seemed to have a layer of dust no matter how new a book was. And the bathrooms? Old. Most stalls didn’t even have usable locks at this point. It’s arguably all apart of the charm of such an old building, but it’s not as charming when you have to reach out to keep the stall door closed with your fingertips just to use the restroom. And the water from the sink that never seems to get warm enough when you wash your hands doesn’t help either. Yet the water fountains are always too warm curiously enough.

You made little to no noise besides the occasional rustling of your jacket and squeaking of your shoes as they padded across the dingy off-colored carpet towards the back of the first floor.

There were various sizes of tables spread out throughout the space, few actually matching in color or style. The chairs varied less - but you could still find the oddball desk chair, or the chair with the wooden frame just a tad to wide to feel like a normal seat but just as evenly too small to be a bench.

Your heavy eyes surveyed the dimly lit space in hopes of finding any sign of human life when you finally noticed a backpack haphazardly tossed onto a table, still zipped open. Pens were splayed across the table with a single notebook, scribbles scrawled across the pages too far from you to be read. Not seeing anyone occupying the seat pulled away from the tables edge, you took out your phone to take a peek at the time.

4:58 am

Wow, I’m early?

Shoving your phone back into your pocket you began to make your way towards the (un)occupied table, debating whether a seat closer or farther would be more polite.

If I sit too close that’ll definitely be-

“Hey.”

You felt your shoulders hunch up to your ears and a small gasp leave your mouth at the way the voice behind you so suddenly interrupted your train of thought.

You turned around to come face to face with the voice.

“Are you (y/n)?”

Damn. He’s kinda tall.

Kind of was certainly an understatement. God he was definitely above 6 feet, 6’2” maybe? No, maybe even a little taller.

A single earbud was still in his ear as the other hung down and rested against his chest. He took the time to take the other out and wrap the cord gently around his middle and index finger before shoving it into his coat pocket, presumably the same one with his phone, in an effort to prevent them from getting tangled most likely. He took a deep breath and eyed you up and down before chuckling softly to himself.

“Okay.”

The tall man, who you’re now beginning to realize is Tsukishima, gives you a quizzical stare with a quirked eyebrow as he looks you up and down one last time, definitely judging you and your silence at this point, before turning around and making his way to a table.

Well it’s a good thing he stopped you before you sat at some other strangers table. You don’t think your heart could’ve taken that today.

You watched his back as he made his way towards a table farther into the back, closer to a window peering out onto the foggy and barely illuminated field.

Oh shit

“Oh, sorry!” You clear your throat and begin again, your own sudden volume startling yourself for a moment, as you double your pace to catch up and walk beside him towards a table,

“Um, yeah. Sorry, it’s a little early, brain hasn’t woke all the way up.”

Silence.

At the lack of a response, you decide to awkwardly laugh rather than wallow at the fact he didn’t even give a pity chuckle at your bad attempt at a polite joke to ease the seemingly tense vibe between the two of you.

Okay, well he definitely seems to talk the way he texts.

Clearing your throat again, you tried once more.

“I’m (y/n) by the way, it’s nice to m-“

“I know your name.” He stopped at the table and turned to glance down at you over his shoulder, the tiniest of smirks resting on his face with raised eyebrows, before pulling out a seat to sit in.

Yeah, maybe being quiet for a bit would do you some good. You’ll try again later.

Still trying to shake the embarrassment, no humiliation at this point, you busied yourself with taking out all the proper materials and waiting while he did the same. Sitting patiently opposite of Tsukishima, you decided to finally get a good look at him. Take in what you see and make some judgements.

He shook off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair, showing you his wide shoulders underneath the simple grey t-shirt he wore. You didn’t fail to notice how the sleeves were cuffed, either.

Hm. Nice look.

Points for Tsukishima.

His hands and ears were slightly pink from the weather outside, contrastingly sweet against the paleness of his skin.

Kinda cute, in like a Keebler elf kind of way.

More points, you guess, for Tsukishima.

He sighed as he opened up the calculus ll textbook, adjusting his glasses with long and slender fingers before flipping through the pages. You decided it’d be best to do the same.

It was quiet for a moment too long when you thought it might be a good idea to try and speak again, but apparently he must’ve had the same idea.

“So, why d-“

“Thanks for-“

Cutting each other off, you pursed your lips as he gave you some emotionless stare, one of you waiting for the other to start back up again.

Andddd, another awkward beat of silence.

Jesus, this was gonna be the longest hour of your life.

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AHHHHH HERES CHAPTER ONE - I promise the next one will be full of tsuki and tsuki content ok, I just had to get the ball rolling and really wanted to post smth!! I hope you guys like and please please leave your thoughts or anything in my ask box or anywhere!! I’d love to talk :D MWAH I also have little footnotes in my tags too :) (more like commentary but yeah)

taglist for series: @plutowrites @c0rncheez @ruetaro @daniagabriela48 @toyas-wife @devilkou @anime-and-kpop-trash (if you’d like to be added or removed let me know! And if ur crossed off tagging didn’t work!)

128 notes · View notes

clouditae · 3 years

Text

First Love | 19

Word: 3.9k

Beta reader: jinned

happy birthday to yoongi

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

You lie in bed staring up at the ceiling as the tips of your fingers brush along your lips. You can’t stop the smile growing as you remember the kiss. How he brought his lips to yours, taking you by surprise for a moment before your eyes flutter to a close and feel his lips move along yours. It fits perfectly with yours; soft, warm and sending butterflies in your stomach. You felt the fireworks and the rapid beating of your heart—it’s completely different from Hanbin. You toss to your side, burying your face in your hands as you feel the blush creep along your cheeks. You love him. You told him confidently that day and you have no regrets.

So what does that mean for the two of you? Are you a couple? You thought the same thing with Hanbin, but it wasn’t until he asked you to be his girlfriend that you learned you two were just dating for a few weeks. Ari even told you that everyone starts dating to test the waters before they decide if they want to be official or not. So, you’re not a couple with Yoongi. Unless he has a different view on what official means and that kiss makes you a couple? But it also might not be that. Maybe it’ll only be a kiss and that’s it. You’ll never know what it’s like to date him and you’ll be alone the rest of your school year and find some old dude to be your lover because you’ve only loved Yoongi since then.

“Oh my God I’m scaring myself,” you mutter to yourself, sitting up. You have to talk to him. You have to ask him if what happened that day means something more to him like it does for you. Climbing out of bed, you slip on your shoes and step up to your door, hand outstretched towards the handle. But you can't bring yourself to grasp it. Your hand idles, thoughts fighting against each other before you’re back in bed. “I’m not going. I’ll wait it out.” You’re under your cover, hiding from reality.

So much for thinking you’re a new person with so much confidence.

“You’re such a wimp.”

“I am not!” you defend, but you know she’s right. Ari is one hundred percent right today, but you don’t want to admit it out loud.

“Yes you are. Now grow a pair of bigger boobs and go ask him!” She shoves you towards the door, but her push is barely strong enough to nudge you.

It’s been almost a week since you had your kiss with Yoongi, and your last talk with him, too. He’s been unreachable—always at school or too busy to even give Hoseok the time of day. You’re thinking it’s because he has an important assignment coming up, but then you’re also thinking he’s having second thoughts about the kiss. He never said anything to you that day after the kiss. He told you he needed to focus on his work and you left. Nothing was said. Nothing is ever said when it comes to him.

Why do you like him again?

“I’ll do it later,” you whine, stomping your feet like a child as you climb into bed instead.

You can see her staring daggers at you as she stands in the middle of the room with her arms crossed over her chest. You can see she’s thinking of something, but you don’t know what. Finally, she says, “You have a week to talk to him. If you don’t, I’ll go over there and ask him myself.” You can’t help but open your mouth in shock. Did she really just— “Got it?” she says, rather than asks. Groaning, you toss your blanket off you and slide off your bed, grabbing your backpack on your desk chair and slip on your shoes. “Where are you going?” she asks as you turn the handle to open the door.

“To study on campus,” you half yell, opening the door, heading out of the room.

You're about halfway down the hall when you hear your dorm room close and open again with Ari yelling, "You better not forget what I said!"

No words are said from you as you push the side door open and head down the flight of stairs. You almost trip from the frustration Ari gave you, but you catch yourself and take careful strides down the rest of the steps. No one is really outside today—no one is heading towards the bus stop to take the fifteen minute drive towards campus. Maybe you'll have time to calm down in the shuttle and prepare yourself for a test that's weeks away.

You just needed to get out of the room and away from Ari's unnecessary glares. Reaching the sidewalk, the shuttle has just pulled to a stop. It seems like you'll have to wait fifteen or thirty minutes before the vehicle will take you to the campus. As the doors open, a few people exit the large, white bus—one of them being Yoongi who notices you immediately. You can feel your heartbeat quicken, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach in an instant. You don't understand how he can cause such chaos within you, but he does it every time you see him. You can imagine the kiss so clearly. His soft lips brushing along yours, thumbs running across your skin leaving a hot trail behind.

He's looking at you expectantly as the rest of the passengers leave along with the driver towards the buildings. It's not as obvious for you as it is for him, but you realize your mouth is open as if you're going to say something. Your body betrays you rather quickly before your brain can even comprehend what you're doing. Yet, he continues to wait there for a few more seconds before he turns his attention ahead of him and he starts towards his room.

"Um," you begin, seeing him stop in your peripheral, "I was wondering..." Wow you're struggling. Where did all that confidence you had when he kissed you go? Where did the ‘don't think just do’ motto go? Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn to face him. "What are we exactly." Okay. You said it. Now the ball is in his court.

He's staring at you with a look you can never read, eyes blankly staring and mouth set tightly. Is what you thought about earlier really true? Was it just testing out the waters? Does he not like you? Why are you always right?

"What do you want us to be?" he asks.

You blink once. Twice. Just trying to comprehend what he just said and double checking with yourself to make sure what you heard is right. "What?" you ask, not wanting to answer just in case you did hear wrong.

He takes several steps towards you until he's a few inches away, his cedar wood cologne invading your senses as he repeats himself, his warm, minty breath fanning your face, "What do you want us to be?"

Okay he’s close. He’s super close. You can see the flecks of light brown swimming in his darker brown colored eyes. Taking in a deep breath, you answer, “I want to be more than what we are.” You said it. You did it—oh God you said it. What’s he going to say?

“Friends?” is his response to your statement.

Is he testing you? Is that what he thinks you mean? You shake your head nevertheless. “More than friends,” you mumble, feeling smaller than you did when you first opened your mouth.

He watches you. Searching for something you don’t know of. You can’t help but squirm, eyes shooting down to his black shirt as he looks at you for a moment. Finally, he answers, “Okay.” Your gaze is back to his again, shock clearly visible on your face. “If that’s what you want,” he adds.

“Is that what you want?” you ask him.

He hums in response before he slowly leans in. Your breath catches in your throat as you see him get closer and closer before you close your eyes and wait. You’re going to kiss him again. You’re going to feel his warm, soft lips against your own— “The bus is coming,” he mumbles, and your eyes shoot open, head quickly turning to look behind you. The bus has its left blinker on as it slowly gets onto the road. You’re quickly running past him, never saying your ‘goodbyes’ as you run as fast as you can to the stop before the bus drives past it. To your luck, you make it before the bus does. As quickly as possible, you dig through your backpack for your bus pass as the bus driver notices you and pulls over and comes to a stop in front of you.

The doors open and you smile gratefully as you step onto the vehicle. “Hello,” you tell him, taking in a deep breath after running the short distance suddenly. He greets you as you press your card to the scanner, hearing the satisfied beep, and make your way down the aisle and take the window seat just in front of the second door at the center of the bus. You’re putting your card back into your backpack when you hear the scanner go off, indicating that another person barely made it. The bus jerks forward as you zip your backpack up and someone sits next to you.

You look at the figure in surprise and realize it’s Yoongi. He settles into his seat, eyes forward as the bus skips the second stop, turning right onto the first cross. "Let's go on a date," he says, finally turning his attention on you. He looks so calm when he says it while it's most likely clear that you're in complete shock. "What do you have to do today?" he asks.

"I...um"—you swallow the lump in your throat—"I'm going to fill in my study guide for my test in a few weeks," you answer, hiding your hands under your backpack to clutch the straps tightly. Your heart is racing so hard right now.

"Let's go on a date after."

"I don't know how long it'll take for me to finish..."

"I'll wait," he replies as he looks ahead, seemingly not wanting to hear any more excuses.

For the rest of the ride you're lost in your thoughts on the entire scenario that played out within the last ten minutes. You try to hide the smile playing on your face, so you look out the window. The ride towards school is a quick one, only one stop was made before it comes to a stop at the final destination on campus and you follow Yoongi off the bus, walking out the door behind you.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to calm your excitement as you cross the small road and head towards the library entrance. The two of you are walking side by side down the pathway until you finally reach the building entrance. The outdoor seating is empty as Yoongi opens the glass door for you to enter first. You shyly thank him and enter inside. Pressing your hand to your chest, you feel the beating of your heart as if Yoongi being a gentleman is foreign to you. He’s done it before, but now it’s real in a sense. It’s not practice for you like it was before—it’s genuine. Yoongi is back at your side, and reaching the elevator lobby, you enter the stairwell and head down the stairs to the lower level study area.

Yoongi follows in tow, walking quietly as the two of you enter the rather empty room and you take the table under the skylight where the sun shines through the clouds and trees. Taking a seat, you try your best to hide the blush creeping when Yoongi sits next to you. And so, you try your best to focus on your study guide while Yoongi messes with his phone.

It's been a few hours when you finally finish answering all the questions. You put the guide away in your notebook, close it as well as your textbook and finally turn to Yoongi. He has one hand outstretched before him while the other is tucked under his head as he sleeps. You're lost in awe as you admire his beauty. He looks so peaceful; lips slightly parted, the tips of his jet black hair lie along his eyelids, and you can faintly see his back rise and fall with each breath he takes.

Your heart swells and you can't help but raise a hand and let your fingers brush the strands of his hair away from his eyes. His hair is softer than you thought it would be. Your hand lingers in his hair, brushing the strands away further back from his face before his eyes slowly open. Your hand is immediately back at your side, the color to your cheeks turning pink as you try and pretend you’re just packing up rather than staring at him for a few minutes.

From your peripheral you can see Yoongi slowly sit up, stretching his arms before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Are you done?” he asks, voice croaky and gravelly.

“Y-yeah.” You stutter, packing everything into your backpack. You’re clearly not looking calm with a few papers falling from the stack as you’re trying to put it in your binder, or your zipper getting stuck when you try to open your backpack, or even your hair continuously falling into your face no matter how many times you push it back, but either he doesn’t notice or he’s pretending not to. “Uh.” You clear your throat. “Did you still want to…”

“You hungry?” he asks, saving you the struggle of trying to finish your sentence. You hum in response, letting out a quiet breath. It’s hard to play off like you’re not internally panicking. He rises to his feet, and you do the same, holding your bag in one hand. “Let’s go eat,” he voices, pushing his chair in and waits for you to follow before the two of you head upstairs.

As you step out into the crisp, Saturday afternoon air, the once blue sky is gone and replaced with gray clouds. You slip your arms through the straps of your backpack as you put it on, attention turning to Yoongi as he tells you, “Let’s have sushi.” You agree, already imagining the taste of the rolls you’re going to consume as the two of you head in the direction of the food court. Yoongi walks alongside you, the two of you walking in a comfortable silence. It’s something you’re not used to in all honesty. He usually walks ahead when the two of you go somewhere together, and the rest of the time you’re trying your best to keep up. Now, however, he’s keeping at your pace and it makes your chest flutter and a smile trying desperately to appear on your face. You’ve never felt so happy and nervous at the same time.

Reaching the food court, you see a few people sitting scattered at the tables working on their assignments or chatting with their friends. You follow Yoongi towards the Japanese stand where the line is empty. When you reach the register, the man smiles and asks, “What would you like to order?” Yoongi says his order then looks towards you. After a few blinks of confusion, you realize he wants you to add your order in as well. Telling the man your order, he totals up and takes Yoongi’s card who had it out already before you could even dig in your backpack for yours.

You find a table at the corner of the building, isolated from everyone else. You take a seat against the wall while he takes the chair across from you. “You’re nervous,” he comments after a few seconds of silence. You open your mouth to answer, yet nothing is said. You close your mouth and look away in embarrassment. You finally have him, but you can’t help but feel like you don’t. That this could all be a dream. “Are you having second thoughts?”

You shake your head, suddenly all the words spilling, “I want to be with you. I just never expected for it to happen and I’m just…a mess.”

He watches you for a second before saying, “Okay.” His name is called and he leaves to retrieve your food.

While the two of you eat, no words were really said. You can’t think of anything to say, and Yoongi seems to be distracted with his food. It takes about halfway being done with your plate that he finally strikes up a conversation. Sadly it’s about your summer, so you had to do a lot of dodging when it came to Hanbin. Would he get jealous? Angry? Will he ask what happened between the two of you? You’re not sure, but you’re not going to find out right now.

During his summer, Yoongi tells you he spent most of his time working at his shop, mastering his producing skills, and hanging out with Hoseok when they’re both free. “A simple summer,” he explains, placing a roll in his mouth.

When the two of you finish, you feel satisfied and happier to have spent a calming date with Yoongi. You remember the last time he took you out on one—well a practice one, but the two of you argued and the whole date was ruined. This one’s real, and so much better than any date you’ve been on. Throwing your box in the trash, you head out the building only to be met with heavy rain. You stand under the awning with the rain pouring and the campus empty as far as the eye can see. Yoongi sighs, “Guess we’re running.” Turning to look at him, he does the same before his hand grabs yours and pulls you out from under the awning, the two of you running.

You cut through the Psychology building, getting a bit of protection from the rain before you’re running along the road towards the bus stop. You try your best to shield your eyes from the rain, but nothing you do helps, so you rely on Yoongi to lead the way. Your legs are burning by the time you reach the bus stop, the two of you hiding under the bus shelter with heavy breaths. Looking around you notice that no one is around. You’re guessing everyone left before the rain hit while you were oblivious to the possibility of it coming. You should have brought an umbrella or—

Yoongi cups your cheeks softly, bringing your attention to him. Looking at him you take in his features. The tips of his hair stick to his forehead, drops of water fall from it, his mouth slightly parted as his pants become lesser. No matter how he looks, he will always take your breath away.

“I want to know that when I wake up tomorrow, I can see you and hold you without thinking this is a dream. I want to be more than friends, too.”

You’d think you would have so much to say from his confession, but nothing comes to mind. So, you repeat what he said hours ago when you told him what you wanted, “Okay.” You’re surprised, and it may be evident on your face as you watch his eyes dart from side to side as if he’s searching for something you don’t know. You try your best to let him know that you want this, that you want to be with him more than anything, and you can only hope it gets through to him. It seems like it does as his eyes stop searching and he’s looking at you with a calm, confident look as he leans in, eyes closing and his lips gently press to yours.

Your eyes come to a close as you kiss him back, feeling that unfamiliar, yet wonderful sensation you felt when he kissed you the first time—the fireworks, the dozens of butterflies swarming your stomach, and your heart racing faster than when Hanbin kissed you for the first time. Warmth over takes the cold as your lips brush along with familiarity, as if the two of you kissed a thousand times before. You want to enjoy the kiss for as long as you can, but he pulls back lightly, his warm breath blanketing your lips. Opening your eyes, you can see his soft gaze staring at you for a brief second before he kisses you one more time as the sound of a vehicle comes to a stop in front of you.

You feel like you’re on cloud nine, like nothing in this world could break you down right now. The feeling of his kiss lingers on your lips, and you want nothing more than to lean forward and kiss him again. You just want to be lost in his lips.

As the two of you separate from one another, the shuttle doors open and the two of you quickly get in. Taking a seat at the back, you sit next to the window and Yoongi beside you, taking your hand in his as he settles further into his seat and closes his eyes.

You’ve never enjoyed a bus ride as much as you do right now, feeling his thumb brush along your skin as the driver comes and goes at the next two stops, no one else enters the shuttle. The rain continues to pour from outside, creating small puddles on certain parts of the street with cars zooming over them and creating a splash. Music is playing over the speaker, a faint soothing song against the overpowering rain and cars zooming by.

A while later the shuttle comes to a stop in front of the entrance to your dorm building, Yoongi’s eyes open and he gets up from his seat, your hand still in his as he leads you out of the vehicle. You thank the driver before the two of you are running across the parking lot and up the flight of stairs to the second floor door. You hide from the rain as Yoongi fishes out from his pocket his ID and presses it to the scanner. A beep is heard and he opens the door, letting you enter first.

Walking down the hallway, you stop at your door, turning to Yoongi. He tucks your hair back behind your ear as he instructs, “Go get warm before you catch a cold.” You nod. “I’ll see you later.”

As he turns to enter his room you grab his hand. He turns back around. “We’re a couple,” you say, your statement not sounding like a question like you wanted. He nods in response. “You’re my boyfriend,” you mutter, nervous for his answer.

He chuckles, a smile you’ve never seen before appearing on his face. You forget how to breathe as you stare in awe at his simple yet bright smile. “I am.” He steps forward and places a kiss on your forehead. “Go inside,” he tells you, and you let his hand go and do as instructed. Pressing your ID to the scanner, he whispers, “Goodnight.” and you enter your room, the biggest smile on your face with cheeks as flushed as they can be.

Ari drops everything she’s doing and listens to you as you tell her about the greatest date of your life.

#bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #bangtanuniversity #btsgoldnet #btswritersguild #bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi au

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eveningstar1516 · 3 years

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Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 5

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so…, Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:

Lucifer looked into my eyes muttering something in angelic before whispering, “I’m sorry…”

With tears burning his eyes he buried the sword deep into my heart.

“Thank you”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 5 - Oblivion (1618 words)

“Y/N? Wake up Y/N”

Someone’s calling my name?

“Y/N, please wake up”

I awoke in a daze hearing a soft female voice calling out to me.

“Y/N, can you hear me?”

Slowly blinking awake, I realized that I was floating in some dark void. Upon looking around, I found the source of the voice. A young woman with long strawberry blonde hair and violet eyes was looking at me. Her white and purple dress was flowing freely around her. Her hair framed her face just right with a small leaf hair clip finishing her look. She spoke out again.

“Y/N, can you hear me?”

“Who are you?”

“Oh, thank goodness you can. Y/N, I am Lilith. Do you remember how you got here?”

I looked down at myself realizing that there is a gaping hole in my chest where my heart is supposed to be. Memories of the trial came flooding back to me.

“I-I was on trial. The king didn’t like the idea of me having pacts with all your brothers, so he ordered that I be killed. He, he tried to make Lucifer do it but he refused to kill me. I remember ordering your brothers not to interfere and to obey Lord Diavolo above the king, then I ordered Lucifer to kill me with his sword. He whispered something in angelic then killed me. I thanked him then nothing. It didn’t even hurt when he killed me, I just fell asleep.” Hugging myself as I remembered what happened, what I assume to be not 30 minutes ago. Lilith moved to wrap her arms around me.

“Shh, it’s alright now. When Big Brother killed you, he probably used his holy sword, that’s why you didn't feel anything, but if he did, you should have returned to Oblivion. Do you know what that is?”

Nodding my head, I recalled my Devildom history class. Oblivion was the start of the universe. All living beings were created from oblivion. Oblivion is the purple aura that surrounds someone when they perform a spell. It is the stuff used to manifest something via spell or curse. If harnessed right, it can also be used as an energy source.

“Big Brother probably muttered a protection spell which is why you are here instead of non-existent.”

“Where is here?” I asked while slowly releasing her from the hug.

“This place has no name, although I like to call it the void. In reality, that is all this place really is. It is where souls end up should they not have a final destination but don’t return to Oblivion. This only happens in special cases. It is the reason I have been able to watch over you and my elder brothers. This is where things get complicated. You were not meant to die yet and I didn’t have enough power to save you this time. You now have to make a choice, no matter what you pick, you cannot change the fact that you died, there is no cheating death a second time. I can make you a demon and send you to the Devildom, I can re-incarnate you into a new-born human although you will lose your memories, or I can send you to the Celestial Realm as a seraph. It’s your choice.”

“There is no way I would give up my memories of your brothers and the time I spent in the Devildom, and as much as I would love to return to the Devildom, there is no way I am going to serve that tyrant calling himself “King”. I also really don’t want to serve the other tyrant that has the audacity to call himself “Father”” Sighing I cradled my head in my hands weighing my two options. On one hand, I can return to the brothers and the one I love, but I will have to serve King Abandon and that’s if he doesn’t decide to kill me again as soon as he lays eyes on me. On the other hand, I could go to the Celestial Realm and hide out with Simeon and Luke, but I would have to bow down to their Father so as to not risk banishment from the Celestial realm, and that’s if he doesn’t cast me out on the spot, unless…

“I pick the Celestial Realm. As much as I dread serving Father, it’s my best option of seeing the brothers again.”

“Y/N, are you sure? I will be using up the last of my power, there is no going back after this.”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright.” Lilith took my hand and started chanting in angelic. A golden aura surrounded her as strings of light flowed out of her and into my chest and back, closing my wound and forming 6 pure white wings on my back. My clothing transformed into white and pastel blue garments. A small halo appeared over my head. I saw Lilith beam at me and say something although I couldn’t make out what she said as the darkness claimed me once more.

~In the Devildom~

(Lucifers POV)

Tears threatened to spill over as I carried out Y/N’s order. Why? Why did they make me do it?! They could have ordered me to pick them up and fly them away, I would have done it before the order even left their mouth. There is no way I could send them back into Oblivion. Without thinking, I drew the sword I swore I would never draw again. My Father had dubbed it “Starburst”, my holy sword. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it after the fall, and now I’m glad I didn’t. I heard gasps from the crowd as I summoned the sword, the only demons having seen it were my brothers as well as Lord Diavolo and Barbatos. I fought against Y/N’s order long enough to mutter a small prayer for their soul, hoping that wherever Lilith was, she would hear and understand that I needed her help. Unable to fight the order any longer, I took one last look into their eyes and thrust the sword straight through their heart, my brothers screaming in the background. Holding Y/N’s body a little longer than normal, I heard their last words, “thank you”, then nothing. Y/N was gone, and I was the one who killed them. I didn’t have time to think about it as I felt a searing pain on the back of my left hand, turning over to face my brothers, I saw them each clutching a part of their bodies as we all felt the pact we each held with Y/N shatter. I gently laid down Y/N’s body and got up moving off stage before my tears spilled over signalling my brothers to do the same. Not acknowledging the king, we all turned and left, Diavolo and Barbatos following close behind. Asmo’s crying was all we heard as we walked towards the House of Lamentation, none of us wanting to be anywhere near the king. Upon entering, we all went our separate ways. Levi immediately retreated towards his room, the twins went to theirs. Satan went to the library. Asmo and Mammon both went into the direction of Y/N’s old room while Diavolo, Barbatos and I headed to my secret study. Now alone, I let it all out, my pride worthless now.

“It’s not your fault-”

“Isn’t it Dia?! I was the one that killed them! I wasn’t strong enough to fight them and now they're gone!”

“I noticed you muttering something before, you know. What was it?”

“It was a prayer to Lilith. I know she’s watching over us. I can only hope that she heard it and will help Y/N. I didn’t send them into Oblivion as he ordered but to where she is. That was all I was able to do.” Tears now streamed down my face clear as day as I leaned back into my chair looking up at the ceiling at the thought of my only sister and Y/N who has grown to be someone I would even call my lover. Barbatos put his hand on my shoulder to try and ground me.

“What now?”

“I don’t know Barb, I really don’t. My Father has control of the Devildom and now with Y/N gone, it will be a lot harder to continue with any of our plans. On the plus side, thanks to Y/N’s order, my word outranks my Father’s when it comes to you 7.”

“But the pact is gone. There’s no way any of their orders are still in play, right?”

“No, it is still very much there. I can still feel the lingering effects of an order. If it weren’t, we would have attacked the king as soon as the pact broke but Y/N ordered us not to interfere with the trial.”

We sat in silence, none of us wanting to break it, until Diavolo’s DDD pinged with a text alerting him and Barbatos back to the castle.

As they were leaving Diavolo pulled me in for a tight hug.

“I’ll make this right. I promise.”

Letting go, both demons left for the palace as I went to my room. Shedding my clothes, I bypassed pyjamas and laid in bed. Tears ran down my face as I thought about Y/N and all the precious memories we had made together. I rolled over and realized they left their Little D No.1 plushie here from their last sleepover. Clutching it, their scent strong on the plushie, I drifted off to sleep, hugging the Little D in my arms wishing it was Y/N instead.

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rogueyami · 4 years

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Haikyuu!! Fic Recs

I love reading fanfics, and I have so many bookmarked that I want to share. Hope you all enjoy and give these writers all the love. All of these are completed works, and they are a mixture of one shots and multi chaps.

Kagehina

where the night goes by bigspoonnoya (M)

Summary:

When their bond loses the immediate context of volleyball, they're left to consider why it's still so vital and important.

Meeting again, by chance, six years later.

Somewhere to Belong by Esselle (E)

Summary:

Once a year, all the villages that follow the way of the sun offer up one of their own to be taken to the sun god's divine temple. Kageyama Tobio, an orphan and loner, never wanted to be chosen—and until the sun god appeared, no one ever wanted to choose him, either. All Tobio wants is to find a place he fits in. What he actually gets is another story entirely.

by this time next year by reeology (T)

Summary:

"I got offers from two universities," Kageyama announces, pointing at his chest with his thumb. "I'm going to play volleyball at Keio this spring."

"You still have to pass an exam, even if it's an easy one," Takeda-sensei hurries to add, although he is beaming and bursting with pride at his fluffy little crow chick taking off to play volleyball at a university level.

"I'll pass," Kageyama says with the same kind of confidence he uses when he tells Hinata he'll get the toss to him. He looks straight at Hinata, and Hinata jerks and turns red, wondering if maybe Kageyama knew he was daydreaming about something as stupid as the way Kageyama talks to him during a game. But then Kageyama just points at him and says, "You'd better get in, too."

Hinata, stupid, naive, idiot that he is, grins wide and nods and says, "Yeah!"

He doesn't know what he's in for.

Not Alone by seconddaysea (E)

Summary:

"I'll visit you," Hinata says. "So you're not allowed to get lonely, you got it?" He turns so they're facing each other, hands warm against Tobio's back. "I'm already lonely," he replies quietly, and he presses his face against Hinata's heart, squeezing his eyes shut, because if this is a dream he doesn't want to wake up.

maps, from me to you by tothemoon (T)

Summary:

This is a (non-chronological) account of the memories they make out of millimeters.

Iwaoi

we can do better than that by spaceburgers (M)

Summary:

Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all.

we shine like diamonds by whiitemists (T)

Summary:

Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.

"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

here comes your man by newamsterdam (T)

Summary:

Iwaizumi’s left his cell phone on the bench, and while Suga keeps his gaze away from Iwaizumi the phone lights up with a new message.

Iwa-chan, it reads, Have a good day today! Good luck! <3 <3 <3

Suga chokes. It’s hard to imagine anyone calling the scowling and fierce Doctor Iwaizumi “Iwa-chan.” But marriage probably comes with all sorts of liberties.

Mrs. Iwaizumi must be quite the doting wife, Suga thinks. Delivering hand-made bentos and sending along loving messages.

No one really knows much about the new surgical resident, Doctor Iwaizumi, other than the fact that he's married. Suga's determined to find out more, and make a friend of him in the process.

just hear me out by loveclouds (T)

Summary:

To stimulate Japan's low birthrates and take most of the guesswork out of dating, a beeper system was biologically developed in people's wrists, an audible confirmation to show romantic compatibility.

Iwaizumi's beeper has been going off for Oikawa since they've been kids. Oikawa's has only ever been silent.

Call Security! by DeathBelle (T)

Summary:

Oikawa Tooru is attractive, charming, and irresistible.

He thinks so, anyway, until he meets the mall's new security guard.

In which Oikawa has a crush, Iwaizumi has no interest, and a chain of shoplifting incidents brings them together.

Bokuaka

(Don't) Touch Me by DeathBelle (E)

Summary:

Akaashi has always had an aversion to human contact, but earlier in his life it had been bearable. It isn't until his last year of high school that it becomes intolerable. By the time he enters college, any skin contact has the potential to send him spiraling into a breathtaking panic attack.

He reconnects with Bokuto in college, and he seems to be the only person with the ability to calm Akaashi down. He finds himself relying on his old captain more and more, especially when Bokuto deems himself Akaashi's own personal guardian. Despite their connection, he can't touch Bokuto, either; no matter how badly he'd like to.

Upstairs by yoogiboobi (E)

Summary:

Bokuto first sees his neighbour at the supermarket, three days after he's moved into his new place.

[...]

For about a second, a heartbeat, he's met with a pair of dark, piercing eyes, with what is probably eyeliner, looking back at him. It really is just a split second before his hand knocks down three cereal boxes that hit him square in the head, effectively making him break eye contact and drop his groceries to the floor.

In which some of the first things Bokuto learns about his upstairs neighbour are the colour of his eyes and the sound of his moans.

bang! now we're even by Authoress (E)

Summary:

Akaashi only has two rules when it comes to his profession. One, complete the job as swiftly and cleanly as possible. Two, never trust anyone who smells like blood.

Rule three is to shoot Owl Eyes in the face should he ever come across him, but Akaashi never tells anyone about that one.

Crisis Converted by valiantarmor (E)

Summary:

Akaashi Keiji is just a normal cop with a penchant for getting himself into trouble, when quite suddenly he finds himself with a big promotion and a brand new partner.

But his habit of finding trouble hasn't gone away -- if anything, it's only gotten worse.

cracks in the pavement will lead you home by deusreks (M)

Summary:

Bokuto often thinks about Akaashi, especially when he’s running. It’s like his legs know where they’re supposed to take him. He grows into a habit of running a lot, just to keep that feeling going. Cracks and holes in the pavement aren’t fun to jump over if the final reward isn’t seeing Akaashi’s face.

An alternate universe with a little bit of magic and a lot of growing up.

Ushiten

died in my dreams by MTrash (Makaria) (T)

Summary:

If anyone asked Ushijima how it came to this, he wouldn’t be able to formulate a proper answer.

Ushijima likes his quiet, his order, and his solitude. That is, until a loud, talkative and a little chaotic cyber tech convinces him that that's just plain boring.

while i nodded, nearly napping (suddenly there came a tapping) by pseudoanalytics (T)

Summary:

Of course if there was one thing that could be counted on, it was Ushijima’s blunt, total honesty. “Do you think Tendou is attracted to me?”

Reon froze. “T-Tendou?”

“Yes.”

Tendou was notoriously hard to read, but Reon kind of figured that he wasn’t the type to be anything less than painfully overt with romantic affections.

“I... I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I think if Tendou was attracted to you, he would let you know,” Reon said. “I'd guess he just considers you his best friend.” He hoped his answer would satisfy whatever frenzy the guy had worked himself into so Reon could finally take advantage of his last precious hours of sleep.

But instead, Ushijima visibly deflated in front of him. “Yes. That’s what I thought too,” he said miserably.

Oh, Reon realized. Oh no...

Executive Excursion by DeathBelle (E)

Summary:

Tendou is fun, quirky, and interesting.

Ushijima is none of the above.

It's no surprise that Ushijima is drawn to Tendou's magnetic personality. What's surprising is that Tendou seems to like Ushijima, too.

With a little support from his coworkers, Ushijima decides to take a chance and ask Tendou on a date. The results are better than expected.

fascinating facts about geckos by miracleboysatori (T)

Summary:

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

That’s the coach’s name. And he’s the new biology teacher on campus, so not only is he incredibly beautiful, he's also smart as hell.

Tendou can tell he’s completely doomed.

Affection, and other Quantifiable Actions by badbavarois (T)

Summary:

(He's a monster) Ushijima Wakatoshi isn't a monster.

Misc/ Other ships

but not for spring to well up by tookumade (T) OsaSuna

Summary:

After ending a relationship with a fiancé, Suna returns home and tries to heal from heartbreak. Here, he finds friends in the form of the Miya brothers, and learns patience, forgiveness, and what happiness means to him.

the more things change by deadseasalt (E) OiKage

Summary:

“So let me get this straight. You went to the Meiji-Chuo game and saw your old crush and after watching Meiji bring Chuo to a crushing defeat, you realized you were still crushing on him big time?”

Kageyama wishes he could spit in Tsukishima’s drink. “It’s not a crush.”

Tsukishima laughs. “You poor dumb fuck.”

Third Impression by DeathBelle (E) Kuroo x Semi

Summary:

If Semi has a type, Kuroo isn't it.

After their first meeting, Semi concludes that Kuroo is smug, presumptuous, and a little too flirtatious for his own good. Their second encounter doesn't change his mind, and Semi does his best to avoid a third.

Kuroo has other ideas, and Semi finds himself tricked into an impromptu tutoring session with Kuroo himself.

It doesn't go as badly as Semi expects.

Mannequin Men by surveycorpsjean (E) BokuAkaKuroTsukki

Summary:

The modeling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

Efflorescence by h_lovely (E) MatsuHana

Summary:

"Are we flirting?" "Do you want to be?"

[Efflorescence (n.) a state of blooming, flowering, and development.]

606 notes · View notes

candied-peach · 3 years

Text

ao3: “christmas baubles” rating: T warnings: platonic dlampr, some violent humor, food, christmas genre: fluff (tiny bit of angst) description: Virgil spends Christmas with everyone. It goes surprisingly well. (this is written for @potatopriestlord for @sanderssidesgiftxchange ! happy holidays ♡)

It's Christmas time.

It's Christmas time, and Virgil doesn't know how to feel. This year, Patton's invited Janus and Remus. "A new beginning," he claimed, and who is Virgil to argue? He wants a new beginning. He does, but he just-

Well, it's not quite the same. He's used to Christmas with Janus and Remus and he's slowly becoming used to Christmas with Logan, Roman, and Patton, but- Combining them?

His heart stutters at the thought.

Don't be such a dummy, he tells himself as he carries in one last box of Christmas finery for the tree. The lights have already been strewn, in white and gold. Multi-colored tinsel is densely packed in one box, ready to be flung over evergreen branches in a rainbow tapestry. All that's left, really, are the ornaments.

Virgil isn't sure he's ready for the ornaments.

They aren't regular ornaments, you see. They aren't shiny glass baubles or childish popsicle stick and Elmer's glue contraptions. They're memories.

And he's painfully aware of every memory destined to fit on the tree.

"You ready, Virge?" Roman asks, a candy cane sticking out of his mouth. Virgil nods, swallowing his nerves back. It will be fine, he reminds himself. Just because Jan and Remus are coming this time doesn't mean anything will go wrong.

Roman hands him an ornament. It's a delicate reenactment of a cabin, snow falling down the windows in little drifts. Virgil grasps it with shaking fingers, his mind already drawn into the bauble's memory.

It's his first Christmas with the other sides since childhood. He doesn't want to intrude, but Patton insists. They don't even know his name yet, think he's nothing but a bother, but Virgil goes anyway because Patton gave him that look and he can't resist it.

They've transformed the commons into what looks like the inside of a cozy log cabin. Patton beams when he sees Virgil's hesitant tread down the stairs.

"You made it!" Patton says cheerfully. Logan gives him a cordial nod. Roman ignores him altogether, too focused on putting the last finishing touches on the tree. There are heaps of red and blue ornaments in various shades, but no purple, yellow, or green. Not that Virgil expected any.

"Uh, yeah," he says, shrinking into his hoodie. He feels like an imposition. Desperately wishing he could go back up the stairs and take refuge in his room, Patton instead takes his sleeve and tows him further in, handing him a mug of hot chocolate. It warms his perpetually chilled fingers and he can't help but awkwardly smile in thanks at the moral side.

"Thanks," he mumbles, his cheeks flaming like the sunset.

"Sorry," Roman apologizes, his face tinted red. "I um, I wasn't very princely that year."

"It's fine, Princey," Virgil says with a shrug. "The feeling was mutual, remember?" The next ornament is an old one. A fragile one. One that Virgil thought had been lost.

"Patton found that one," Roman tells him. "I haven't checked it out myself."

"Oh," Virgil says, feeling dazed. His fingertips brush the childish blobs of paint that stain the ornament's surface.

"Come on!" Creativity says impatiently, hopping down the stairs two at a time.

"You're gonna fall," Caution warns, flapping an oversized sweater sleeve. "Be careful."

"I am careful," Creativity retorts, but Caution notices that he takes the remaining steps a little slower. "Come on, Curiosity's already awake!"

"What 'bout Lies?" Caution asks. Creativity shrugs.

"Not sure," he says. "We gotta get Heart up, too. He's such a sleepyhead. Doesn't he know it's Christmas!?"

"I think the whole mind palace knows," Caution says dryly. Then he steps into the living room and gasps. An enormous Christmas tree squats proudly in the corner, decorated with strings of multi-colored lights and loads and loads of tinsel. Not a single ornament adorns its fluffy branches, causing Caution to give Creativity a curious look.

"It's not done," Creativity admits. "I thought- I thought the ornaments could hold memories! Of all the Christmasses we ever have together! Or like...other times, maybe, I don't know. Doesn't that sound cool?" He enthuses.

"Y-yeah," Caution stammers. "That- that sounds neat, Creativity."

"Show us how!" Curiosity exclaims, storming out of the kitchen. "I'll make the best memory ornament the world has ever seen!" Caution bursts into giggles, covering his mouth with one sleeve.

"Virgil?" Roman asks, touching his shoulder and drawing him out of the memory. "You okay?"

"Fine," Virgil says. "I'm fine. I just. Yeah." He sets the ornament down, as gently as if he cradled a snowflake, and hurried to his box. Dust still gathers, thick and cloying, on a few of the ornaments, buried in the back. The ones with Janus and Remus. He swallows hard, stretching out a hand to pluck the nearest one free.

"Remus, I swear to all that is holy if you have decided to replace the tinsel with tentacles again-" Janus threatens. Remus laughs, dancing backward around the tree as Janus chases him. Each evergreen branch is heavily laden with a wet and floppy tentacle, making Virgil scrunch his nose when he walks in.

"Again?" He complains mildly. Janus looks up, his face brightening.

"Virgil!" He exclaims. "You- you made it."

"Uh, yeah," Virgil says, his face flushed. "Um. I didn't- I didn't know that you uh, did anything? For Christmas?"

"Well, I'm sure it's nothing compared to the others," Janus dismisses, with one light wave of a gloved hand. "But Remus and I try our best. And now you! What tradition would you like to bring to the table, my dear Anxiety?"

Virgil blinks.

"Uh, what?" He asks, completely nonplussed. Remus grins and bounces forward, flapping his hands to make the ruffles on his sleeves move.

"Janus came up with it!" He explains. "We each get a Christmas tradition, just for us. Janus's is singing Christmas carols- only the funny ones- and mine is decorating the tree on December first. What do you want yours to be? It can be anything!"

"Anything?" Virgil asks. Janus looks like he regrets all his life choices, but he nods anyway.

"Anything," he confirms.

"Could- could it be making Christmas cookies?" He asks, hugging himself and remembering Patton's baking with a pang. Janus nods in agreement, though his own mismatched eyes look shadowed.

"Of course," Janus says. "To the kitchen!"

"To the kitchen!" Remus echoes in a howl, galloping toward the kitchen and nearly tripping over a stray tentacle.

Virgil's throat aches when he returns to himself. Their cookies had burned that time, because Remus forgot to set the timer, and truthfully, Virgil still isn't sure if Remus managed to add anything inedible to them, but the experience had been-

Well, the experience had been magical.

"Virgil," Janus greets him carefully. He has a dusty cardboard box held tightly in gloved hands, and his face is carefully neutral. He glances at the cookie-shaped ornament still clasped in Virgil's hands and the faintest dusting of pink brushes his cheekbones.

"Janus," Virgil greets just as carefully. Tension dissipates as Remus thumps his way between the two, lugging his own box.

"Virgey!" Remus exclaims. "Ice to see you!"

"It's nice-" Virgil starts, before realizing Remus is holding an icicle towards him. He recoils, setting the cookie ornament back down into the box, just as Remus laughs and dramatically stabs the icicle against his own heart. Nothing happens. Janus rolls his eyes, a fond smile tugging at his lips, as he watches Remus's antics.

"Janus, Remus!" Patton greets warmly. His words are only a little stilted when he realizes Remus is still holding a melting icicle, dripping all over the floor. Remus waves cheerily with it.

"This is a murder weapon!" He says, cheerful. Patton blanches.

"That's- that's nice," Patton says, recovering admirably. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

"Likewise," Janus drawls. He looks hesitantly down into his box of ornaments. Despite himself, Virgil cranes his neck to have a peek himself. He doesn't even have to touch it to be drawn into the first ornament's memory.

"Virgil, what do you want for Christmas?"

"Huh?" Virgil asks inelegantly, spinning around to see Janus leaning against the door of his bedroom, studying his glove with practiced casualness. He shoves his headphones down, curling around his neck, as he advances toward Janus.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Janus repeats. His snake eye gleams in the dim light. "It's a simple question, storm cloud."

"No, it isn't," he retorts, flustered. "There's so many things that are out there in the world, how could I possibly choose just one-"

"Who says it has to be one?" Janus's question stops him in his tracks.

"Be- because," he splutters. One side of Janus's mouth tips up in a crooked smile.

"We're figments of Thomas's imagination, we can have whatever we want," Janus says. Virgil doesn't point out that's not true, not really, doesn't mumble anything about wishing they could all have Christmas together for once. Instead, he stares at the ground and mutters something about new headphones.

"Well, that's easily done," Janus says lightly. "I'll ensure you get the prettiest lump of coal in your stocking, Virge. Unless Remus gets to it first." Virgil laughs despite himself and Janus's eyes light up, even as he saunters out the door.

The bauble, shaped like a pair of over-the-ear headphones, reluctantly lets Virgil free. He glances up to see Janus's own eyes, misty with memories.

"You kept it," Virgil mumbles. "You kept all of them."

"Of course I did," Janus says softly.

"Look at mine!" Remus exclaims, jostling his way between the two of them and shoving an ornament in Virgil's direction. It's shaped like a very misshapen pie and his startled fingers close around it, preventing it from clattering to the floor.

"Remus!" Virgil chases him around the kitchen, laughing only partly from frustration. Remus circles the kitchen island, cackling, holding the mixing bowl aloft.

"What's the matter, Fright Night?" Remus gleefully taunts.

"The matter is that batteries don't belong in pie crust and you know it!" Virgil exclaims, huffing out a breath and stirring his bangs.

"Sure they do," Remus says smugly. "They fit in here, didn't they?"

"That doesn't mean anything!" Virgil says, rolling his eyes. "A lot of things could fit in th- I mean-" Remus's eyes light up with a wicked gleam.

"A lot of things, you say?" He purrs. Virgil puts his face in his hands.

"Janus, how could you leave me with him?" He mutters into his palms.

"Because you can handle it," Janus retorts, appearing out of nowhere. He has a string of Christmas lights tangled around one arm. "Remus, put the bowl down."

"Yes, sir!" Remus says, saluting (thankfully with the hand not holding the bowl). The mixing bowl clatters to the counter.

"And help me with these lights for a minute, would you?" Janus implores. The wink he sends Virgil's way lets him know that he'll take charge of Remus, at least for a few minutes. Enough time for Virgil to fish out the batteries, if nothing else, and see if they need to start over.

"I remember that," Virgil mumbles. His cheeks feel like they're on fire. Remus beams at him.

"Good," he says. "Merry Christmas, Panic at the Emo."

"Likewise," Virgil mutters.

"Remus!" Roman shouts, startling all three of them. "Stop bothering Virgil and help me with these lights for the window."

"Same old, same old," Remus says, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated fashion and adding a little shoulder shimmy. He shoves his box of ornaments in Virgil's arms and dashes to his brother's rescue.

"Thanks," Virgil says dryly, looking after Remus's departing back.

"I can take them," Janus offers. Virgil sighs and shakes his head.

"It's fine," he says. "I wouldn't want you to drop anything."

"As if I would," Janus says, putting one hand to his chest in mock offense. It makes Virgil snicker. Janus smiles, a genuine expression of mirth that makes Virgil's heart twinge.

"Shall we?" He asks, motioning toward the tree with a jerk of his head.

"Ah, good," Logan says, adjusting his glasses with one hand. "I was wondering when you would appear, Janus. The twins are already hopelessly tangled in Christmas lights."

"Who put the ones on the tree?" Janus asks, looking amused. Logan smiles, a trifle smug.

"Me," he says. "Would you like to help with the tinsel?"

"Me?" Janus asks, clearly surprised. Logan nods.

"Is there some reason you shouldn't?" He asks.

"No," Virgil speaks on Janus's behalf, carefully setting down Remus's box of ornaments. "I'm gonna go see if Patton needs help," he adds and hurries away as Logan encourages Janus to set down his ornaments and pick up the first strand of tinsel.

"You're doing well," Patton murmurs, as Virgil stumbles into the kitchen. Red colors his cheeks like a candy cane.

"I guess," Virgil says, leaning against the counter top. "You uh, you need any help?"

"I think I've got it for now," Patton says. "But if you'd like to decorate cookies in a bit..."

"Sounds good to me, pop star," Virgil says, relieved. Patton rummages in a box on the table for a second, holding out an ornament.

"Remember this one?" Patton asks softly. Virgil's fingertips brush the smooth edges and he's helplessly drawn in.

"Caution?"

"Go away!"

"No," Heart insists, tiptoeing in the room and looking around. The spider curtains make him wrap his arms around himself and shiver. "You're upset. I can feel it. What's wrong?"

"Christmas," Caution mumbles. He's curled up on his bed, arms around his knees. "Christmas is what's wrong."

"What?!" Heart squawks. "What do you mean, Caution?"

"Thomas has so much stuff to do," Caution says. "How can he do all of them? It's just- I just-" His breathing speeds up. Alarmed, Heart crawls onto the bed, coming to a stop right beside him.

"Breathe," Heart directs, exaggerating his own breath into a gusty whoosh of air and making Caution's lips struggle not to form a smile. "Like this, 'kay? Follow how I sound."

It takes a few minutes for Caution to match his breathing, but he does. Both cheeks flush red as Heart smiles at him.

"Better?" Heart asks gently. Caution nods, playing with one of his sleeves.

"Will Thomas be okay?" Caution asks in a tiny voice. Heart doesn't even have to think about it for his next words to spill out, ringing with the sincerity of truth.

"Absolutely he will!"

Caution smiles, his hair flopping into his eyes. Heart reaches over and brushes it back, giving Caution an encouraging look.

"Wanna help me bake?" Heart asks. "I think I can make a pretty mean cookie!"

"Sure," Caution says, and laughs. "Why not?"

Virgil comes out of the memory slowly, his face flushed.

"I forgot about that," he mumbles, carefully setting aside the cookie-shaped bauble. Patton smiles gently.

"I never did," he admits, just as they hear a crash from the living room.

Virgil runs to the rescue, Patton hot on his heels. His mouth falls open at the scene of wanton destruction. The tree is still up (which is a miracle) and as far as he can tell, no ornament has been broken. But the tinsel lies in haphazard clumps all over the floor, and the same can be said for several strings of Christmas lights. A ladder sprawls on the ground, still holding a loudly protesting Roman.

"You didn't hold it steady!"

"Sure I did," Remus argues. His brows are scrunched tight in worry. "You overbalanced!"

"Well, it isn't like I did that on purpose," Roman says. Remus huffs.

"I never said it was on purpose!" Remus points out. Roman's face acquires a particularly rosy hue.

"Oh," he says weakly. Virgil snorts with barely suppressed laughter at the twins' banter, and all eyes turn to him and Patton.

"Roman fell off the ladder," Janus explains.

"Ouch," Roman tacks on. Virgil snorts.

"That would be an ouch," he says. "You better be okay, Princey."

"I will be," Roman promises. His expression turns irascible. "At least, I will when this bloody ladder is off me-"

"Oh, right," Remus says, his own face reddening. He reaches down and snags the ladder, carefully setting it upright. "There you go, bro."

"Thank you," Roman huffs. Logan gives him a hand and he cautiously makes it to his feet, breaking out in an enormous smile. "All is well on the Creativity train!"

"Please be careful," Patton implores, clasping his hands beneath his chin.

"I'm always careful, padre!" Roman exclaims, nearly slipping on a bushel of tinsel. Logan groans, snatching it up from the carpet.

"Ornament time," Patton says. "And then after that, I need help decorating some Christmas cookies!"

Virgil makes a beeline for his box, pulling out the ornament in the very back. Janus and Remus watch him as he delicately plucks it free, blowing away the dust.

"This one," he shyly requests. The memory plays, pulling them all in.

"Janus?"

Janus looks up from his idle place on the couch, a frown tugging at his face.

"Storm cloud? I thought you were in bed."

"I can't sleep," Virgil admits. He fidgets in the doorway to the living room, his eyes entranced by the Christmas tree (thankfully tentacle-free....for now).

"Come here," Janus coaxes, patting the couch next to him. Virgil shuffles over, his instincts screaming at him to go back to his room. Thankfully, he doesn't listen. He plops down on the sofa, and Janus tugs him closer, draping an arm around his shoulders. It should feel too tight and confining, but instead, it just feels...

Right.

"I can't sleep either!" Remus shouts from the hallway. Janus fondly rolls his eyes.

"Then come on out, Remus," Janus says. "I have two sides and six arms, you're more than welcome."

"Good," Remus says, but it's a subdued Creativity who finally slips out of the darkness and into the flickering colors of the Christmas lights. His eyes are red-rimmed. Virgil thinks he must have had a bad dream or something. He hardly ever cries otherwise.

"Bad dreams?" Janus asks, echoing Virgil's thoughts. Remus hesitates, then nods, as he crawls onto the couch on Janus's other side.

"Hark, hear the bells, sweet silver bells..." Janus sings lowly, elongating each phrase until the Christmas carol becomes nothing more than a lullaby, lulling both Virgil and Remus to sleep.

Virgil carefully hooks the ornament on the tree, front and center. He steps back, surrounded by old family and new, and nods to himself.

He's home.

230 notes · View notes

tooweirdforyou · 3 years

Text

Chapter Two » Target

A/N: I’m trying to figure out if it’d be better for me to post on another website instead of tumblr, where it isn’t really a site meant for fics yk? But I can’t decide which to post on, like Ao3 or Quotev,

Chapter One | Masterlist | Chapter Three

“Hey—“

“No.”

You do a double take at the quick rejection, sputtering in shock. “I haven’t said anything yet!” You protest, waving your arms in the air in front of him.

“The answer is no, Miss [Lastname].” Axel says, releasing an exasperated sigh. Groaning in annoyance and frustration, you huff and look at him with desperate eyes.

Your pleading expression makes the male push up his glasses and clear his throat, clearly avoiding your face. “..no.”

Axel continues his walk to the car, remaining avoidant and ignorant of your facial expression. Your pestering and lingering body towards his makes him tense, as he brings a hand up to his face to block his peripheral vision. “..Would you quit that?”

“No.”

You grin cheekily and the male breathes out from his nostrils, clearly growing annoyed with you already. “You know what? Very well, Miss [ Lastname ]. Let’s go.”

You widen your eyes with delight and cheer. “Yes! Time for some boba!”

Running off towards the car excitedly, Axel could only watch with eyes of disbelief at how much you adored the bubble drink.

Yet, he couldn’t suppress the defeated smile he wore.

On your way to the car, having just exited your father’s former building that you were no in charge of, you fail to see a particular pinkette in the all white police uniform, appearing nervous and shaky as he makes his way up the steps and into the building by himself.

Axel, however, notices the uniform immediately. “Police? What reasons do they have for being here?...” his eyes lingered in the direction of the entrance before he turned away.

‘..Maybe I’m overthinking..’

Hesitantly, Axel pushes the thought to the side as he continues on his merry way towards the car, getting a sudden uneasy filling stirring inside him regardless.

“H-Hi, I was hoping to see Miss [Name Lastname]?” The pinkette asks the front desks shyly, scratching the side of his cheek with his index finger, securing his blue glasses above his head as well.

“My apologies, sir, but Miss [Lastname] just left, she finished a meeting with some lawyers just now.”

Koby’s eyes widens at that news. “She just left?”

The male is quick to rush outside and scans around the building area, finding none recognizable faces but a sleek black car driving off.

“Ah.. I missed her?..” he sweatdrops at the realization of possibly having just passed her and the certain lecture he’ll received for a rice cracker loving chief. “Oh no..”

“Would you like me to come in with you?” Axel questions, glancing to the girl beside him as he parks the car to the side, right outside the boba tea shop.

“Nah, I’ll be quick. Want anything?” You hum, beginning to take off your seatbelt and reaching to make sure you had cash.

Axel ponders for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m fine.” He responds, holding out a credit card for you.

Thanking him, you stare at him for a moment before snorting. “Yeah, right. Strawberry with boba bursts right?” You giggle at Axel’s sputter and hint of pink cheeks.

“Oi, shut it, you! You better not—“

“Okay, I’ll be back with our drinks!” You sing, quickly opening the door and shutting it behind you loudly.

Axel huffs and looks away, clicking his tongue in annoyance at the young girl but couldn’t help the tiny smile that formed on his lips.

But it quickly faded away. “Wait, was she wearing a mask?” He thought before leaning back in the car seat. “No.. it’ll be fine.” He mumbles to himself.

“Welcome to Asia Boba, what can I get you?” The friendly worker asks with a patient smile, making you do the same.

“Can I get [ boba drink ] and a strawberry milk tea with strawberry bursts? Both large, please!”

“Of course, anything else?”

“No, that’s all, thank you.” Handing the card over, you wait patiently and look around the shop curiously, glancing at a couple of the customers before taking the card and receipt back with you.

“Your drinks will be made shortly, we’ll call out your name so may I get your—“

“It’s [Name], [N-A-M-E]. Thanks!”

You walk off towards the side and lean against the side of the wall, pulling a strand of your hair behind your ear as you waited patiently.

Meanwhile, a particular navigator leans on her palm, bringing her drink up to her lips as she sat with her leg crossed over the other, pouting.

“How are we going to find the daughter of a multi-millionaire in a big city like this?” She sulks, looking through the news on her phone in her other hand.

The woman across from her, adorning a simple purple hat over her luscious black hair, smiles. “Give it time, Nami. We’ll find her somehow.”

Nami frowns but slowly nods as she looks around the store mindlessly, until her eyes stop on you.

“...” she stares blankly for a few minutes, finding your outer appearance a little familiar, glancing back to her phone instinctively and abruptly gasps.

“It’s you!”

She slams her hands on the table as she stands up, eyes wide. “You’re [Name]!”

You blink hearing your name and look up to see a orange-haired beauty staring at you with wide eyes, and a pair of blue eyes belonging to a gorgeous raven-haired woman along with her.

“I’m... [Name]..” you slowly nod, furrowing your brows. “Do I know you?..”

‘She doesn’t look familiar... definitely not a schoolmate..’ you thought, cutting your thoughts off when you heard your name.

Turning away, you went over to the counter and took your two drinks with ease, thanking the person once again as you grabbed some straws and began to leave.

“W-Wait, do you mind if we talked with you?”

You glance back at the beauty and frowned slightly. “Kind of.. I’m in a rush and he doesn’t really like waiting..” you mumble before turning back.

“Sorry. See you then.” Bowing your head lightly, you turn back and begin to walk off.

Nami stands surprise at the rejection, unable to do anything but watch you leave. “It’ll be fine, Nami. We’ll have our chance another time, we can’t force her after all.” Robin assures.

You head on over to the car, passing a pair of arguing men with green and blonde hair on the way, and open the passenger door, entering the car.

“Here.”

Extending his drink out to him, Axel takes it, along with a blue straw before speaking. “Did everything go alright?”

“Mmh, I mean.. there was some girl who recognized me, but—“

Sudden knocking on the glass window interrupts you, making you jump and Axel’s stare to sharpen as he looks to the window.

Outside, was the Orange-haired beauty from earlier.

It was tinted, so she wouldn’t be able to inside but the two were able to see out.

“Oh, that’s her!” You instinctively recoil away, becoming uncomfortable. “She recognized me and asked if we could talk..”

Quick to set his drink down, he discreetly reached his hand into the inner sleeve of his jacket while his other hand positioned itself to lower the window.

Once it was lowered enough, Nami smiles charismatically. “Hello! I know you said someone wouldn’t really be patient if we talked, so I wanted to ask permission! This is reallyyyy urgent, you see!”

Robin just shakes her head from inside the shop, smiling amusingly at her friend’s stubbornness, whilst the two arguing boys blink confusedly at the orangette’s sudden action in front of them.

Axel’s stare deepens on the female, his hand inching closer into his inner sleeve before she spoke again.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your date with your boyfriend, honest! But, Mr. Boyfriend, do you mind if I talked with her just for a few minutes?”

His brow twitches at the assumption while you sputter. “B-Boyfriend? I—“

“My apologies, Miss. I can’t permit you to have a conversation with Miss [Lastname] at this moment, she’s quite busy, you see. If you’d like to speak with her, please call this number to make an appointment.”

Instantly, his fingers held out a business card out for her, which she took out of instinct.

“Much gratitude for your understanding. Goodbye, now.” Axel says, immediately rolling up the window and starting up the engine.

“Wa—“

Axel steps on the gas and the car accelerates and begins driving off, leaving Nami staring breathless.

“That was unexpected.”

The handsome assistant said nothing in response as he parks the car outside your home.

Before he could finally speak, his phone rings, initiating him to pick it up in seconds.

“Hello?”

You bring your cup to your lips to drink, taking in the boba through the straw as you listen to Axel’s conversation.

“Huh? What for? She hasn’t seen him in years.”

‘Is he talking about me?’ You thought as the assistant pushes up his glasses and exhales deeply.

“It’s not up to me, you’ll have to take this up with her. ... Make an appointment then. ... what did you say?!”

Axel hisses a small curse under his breath and aggressively hangs up. “That son of a...”

“Something wrong?” You ask, continuing to sip your drink while Axel shakes his head. “Nothing, let’s go. You have a guest..” he grits out.

“Hah? A guest?”

“Ah, little [Name]! Long time no see, hasn’t it? Gurararara!”

Your eyes widens when you enter your large home and see a familiar old man sitting in your living room.

“Woah, gramps!” You awe in disbelief, jogging towards him with excitement before stopping short in front of him. “Wow, I can’t remember the last time I saw you! Pops!”

Whitebeard merely grins as he pats your head, chuckling.

Axel clicks his tongue at your indecency and impulsive actions. “Miss [Lastname], your shoes please.” He sighs out, shaking his head as he sets his drink down onto a drawer.

“Too long it’s been, my dear. And I see Axel is still sticking around.” The old man hums, nodding his head towards Axel’s direction.

The male is quick to bow respectively towards him. “Yes, it’s a pleasure to see you again, Mister Whitebeard.”

Said man exhales in slight disappointment. “What will it take to get you to call me pops, Axel? I already think of you as my son.”

Axel says nothing and looks away, pushing up his glasses as he glances to the pair of boys at Whitebeard’s side. He bows to them respectively as well.

“I assume you two are with Mr. Whitebeard?”

“That’s right. You don’t have to bow-yoi.” The blonde speaks with lazed, half-lidded eyes and a gentle smile.

The other also smiles kindly and nods in agreement. “We apologize for coming in so suddenly, but we just had to discuss something with Miss [Name].” The other spoke, with long black hair tied into a bun and wearing a pink Yukata and a sexy, deep voice.

“With me?” You perk up, glancing to the pretty one and widen your eyes. “Oh, you’re so pretty! Er.. handsome, I guess I should say.”

The male chuckles in amusement, smiling warmly at you. “I appreciate the compliment, I’m fine with either one. I also think you are very beautiful.” He smoothly expresses, his voice making you in awe.

‘His voice is so nice.. wow..’ you thought, suddenly feeling your cheeks flush at the compliment as you turn away.

“Careful now, Izo. Don’t overwhelm my precious daughter like that.” Whitebeard warns and Izo takes a step back. “Of course, my apologies, [Name].”

“N-No, you’re okay.” You mumble a bit shyly, looking to the blonde and recognizing him from yesterday. “So, what’s your name?”

“Marco.” The blonde replies simply, smiling lightly. “Nice to meet you.” You smile a little and nod, turning back to Whitebeard.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Take a seat, [Name].” Whitebeard says, shifting as he sits up straighter and you frown, going across from him and sitting on the couch. Axel is quick to appear behind you, standing.

“I’ll get straight to the point. You, my darling, are in danger.”

With Big Mom’s Family «

“What shall we do, Mama?”

The big 16 feet tall, Charlotte brother asks his mother, arms crossed and standing up straight with perfect posture, signature scarf laced around his neck.

“Mamamamama, we will capture her into the family, and take that power!” Big Mom sings, popping a large pastry into her mouth.

“Yes, Mama.”

A/N : so.. this definitely seems rushed, mostly and probably because I don’t want to drag on too long, especially since there’s so many people you still have to meet, yk? Hope you understand! :3 ch 3 already in the making lol

so someone asked if I could put in the beast Pirates and Big Mom’s crew. I will try, but because it’s been a while since I even seen a clip of one piece, I literally can’t remember much about those two groups specifically, so I deeply apologize if some things are a little off! I’ll definitely try to incorporate them into this, especially since I forgot about Katakuri and want him in here lol- I promise to do my best!! ^^ beast Pirates however won’t be making too much of an interaction, mostly because I barely know anything about them.. so sorry ;-;

taglist : @deputy-videogamer @vemuabhi @lovelyvillainess [ I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be tagged but I was very happy to see your excitement! <3 ]

#tooweirdforyou #one piece #target

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aristidetwain · 3 years

Text

The Shared Dalek Universe of the 1960s: A Case Study

In 2011 (a little over ten years ago!), El Sandifer cited my dearly-beloved 1960s Who Annuals as examples of stories which ended up influencing the TV series many years down the line despite making an unrepentant hash of continuity.

Her first example is that the Doctor is called Dr. Who, and that he alternates between being from Earth on one page, and not being from Earth three pages later. I would point out that TV was doing much the same thing in those days, and went on flip-flopping basically until Jon Pertwee, so it’s not a terribly good argument to begin with.

However, she spends more time pondering the Daleks of the comics. These Daleks, she notes, are very different from those on television at the time. There are hordes of them, they travel in fleets of saucers, and they’re ruled by the Emperor. This contradiction, she argues, later fed back into the TV series in the RTD era, when huge fleets of Daleks became the norm and, earlier but still well after the first burst of Annuals, in the form of Patrick Troughton facing a very different Dalek Emperor in The Evil of the Daleks.

In no way do I wish to undermine Sandifer’s ultimate conclusion that “canon” in the sense of diegetic consistency is a red herring of little importance, and what matters for any sane definition of ‘canon’ is whether a story is referenced at all, not whether it’s contradicted.

However.

Having gone back to 1966′s The Dalek Outer Space Book, I have made a very startling discovery, in the story entitled The Secret of the Emperor. The rest is after the cut; I will leave you with a delightful panel from this story, showing the “bewildered” Dalek Emperor being bullied by knights at the Battle of Agincourt. (This is one of my favourite Doctor Who images ever, and if it doesn’t put a smile on your face I am not sure I want to take you seriously.)

So, famously, when he debuted in the comics, the Dalek Emperor was not the giant, static Dalek later shown on television in The Evil of the Daleks and The Bad Wolf of the Ways; instead, he was golden, squat, and had a bulbous head; to house all the ego, one expects.

Thus, most people will point at the fact that when the Doctor met “the Emperor” in The Evil of the Daleks, he resided in a huge tower-like casing in the Dalek City, as evidence that although ideas received a first treatment in the comics which later made it to screens, no direct continuity was intended; the comics’ Emperor was an alternate, a first draft, to be discarded once a more definitive TV portrayal emerged.

And yet, of course, it is somehow appealing to think of the two as the same Dalek, isn’t it? John Peel (Dalek writer voted most likely to be a 19th century Victorian man who stumbled into a time eddy; it’s mostly the remarkable sideburns) spent a lot of time in his Dalek novels establishing the life story of the Dalek Prime, the First Dalek Ever, who transitioned from the globe-headed casing to the towery Evil one and then deeply regretted it, what with the “getting killed by his own infighting troops with no way to escape”.

But this is usually viewed as a retcon. A cute retcon, an admirable retcon even, but a retcon. My good friend and esteemed fellow canon-welder, @rassilon-imprimatur, espoused such a view four years ago:

Well, all of this is, if you’ll pardon my French, bollocks. John Peel didn’t make anything up, except for the snappy name of “the Dalek Prime” as a designation for the individual. The Dalek Emperor in Evil of the Daleks was always the Emperor of the 1960s comics, and there is a very good reason for his seemingly-contradictory change of appearance. What’s more, I am not talking about murky authorial intent: these are things that the discerning Dalek fan in 1967 was meant to have known.

Let me wind back the clock to 1966. A Dalek master-plan is unfurling, a multi-media agenda spanning several years, more ambitious perhaps than even Time Lord Victorious in its scope; for the ultimate aim of a small cabal of men including David Whitaker, Terry Nation and Brad Ashton is nothing less than spinning the Daleks out of Doctor Who and into their own non-BBC TV show — to be made in America, and in colour, if you please!

For over a year now, a Dalek story arc has been running in the pages of TV Century 21, tracking the early rise of the Dalek Empire and its early interactions with 2060s humanity. Though the Daleks encroach over other parts of the book, including the headline stories, the bulk of this story arc comes in the form of weekly one-page comics making up one long serialised history of the Daleks, under the minimalist title of The Daleks.

Also under the solo brand of “The Daleks”: Annuals, an exclusive audio story, and, of course, toys. Time for Phase Two. It is time to end the Daleks’ endless confrontations with Dr Who on television, and set the stage for a new status quo able to support the TV series Nation dreams about.

Important background: Terry Nation, famously, does not like the Dalek Emperor. Whitaker made him up without consulting Nation, who maintains that the highest rank in the Dalek hierarchy should be the Dalek Supreme. The Emperor was hard to do away with in the comics, since he was basically the protagonist of the TV21 strip, but one imagines Nation was keen to jettison him from the world of the planned TV series.

I am speculating, of course, but I picture Nation sitting in his office, pondering the two great thorns in the side of the Independant Daleks Masterplan.

Thorn one: the Daleks are entangled with the Doctor both diegetically and symbolically; unless something can be done, the Daleks will remain “the Doctor’s enemies”, and a show where they commit evil and the Doctor fails to show up would ring false with the kids watching. The Daleks must be removed from Doctor Who in a sensational and definitive manner, or the whole enterprise is a nonstarter.

Thorn two: I, Terry Nation, have foolishly allowed David Whitaker to shape the lore of the Daleks, and he has made this Dalek Emperor guy very central to early Dalek history, leading up to the 22nd century Dalek Invasion of Earth that most of the Doctor’s subsequent conflicts with the Daleks have stemmed from. But I do not like the Dalek Emperor. I wish I could get rid of him in my new status quo.

…………Aha.

A triumphant Terry Nation adds a post-it note to the ever-widening corkboard representing the multimedia Dalek Masterplan setting up the TV series, which must already include things like “convince Jean Marsh to come back as Sara Kingdom”. Notes distilled from this corkboard will form the backbone of The Dalek Outer Space Book, this year’s Dalek annual, which exists principally to set up the prospective main characters of the new TV series: Sara Kingdom and Agent Mark Seven, of the Space Security Service.

The new post-it note reads:

Construe the Daleks’ enmity with the Doctor as a personal enmity between the Doctor and the Emperor, a la Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty. Have the Doctor triumph over the Emperor on TV in a big ‘event’ story.

Result: the Doctor-vs-Daleks storyline is over; the Emperor is dead; I get everything I ever wanted.

(Except maybe a pony.)

Then he phones David Whitaker, smirking all the while like an evil genie preparing to grant a badly-worded wish.

“Good news, old chap, I’ve decided you can write a new Dalek story for the BBC, all by yourself. I promise I won’t interfere.”

*confused and delighted David Whitaker noises*

“ And you can even bring in that Dalek Emperor of yours. Yes, you heard me!”

*Whitaker enthusiasm intensifies*

“Ahhh, but there’s a catch. The Dalek Emperor must DIE.”

Of course, like all good Faustian bargains, this is irresistible even though it is ruinous and the victim knows it to be ruinous. Whitaker agrees to the scheme. He and Nation begin planning out the events of the great finale of the Dalek-Doctor confrontation, which will hit the screens in 1967 as the mildly racist, but otherwise quite well-loved, ‘The Evil of the Daleks’.

Quickly enough, it is decided that Patrick Troughton crouching to berate the short and bubble-headed Golden Emperor would look silly. If the Emperor appears on TV, alongside human performers, then it should tower over them. Besides, this is to be the archvillainous Dalek Emperor’s last stand, and certain traditions must be followed.

Hence another task is added to the bucketlist of the Dalek Outer Space Book: tell the story of how the Emperor transformed from the globe-headed dwarf to some huge and terrible towering form under the Dalek City, for the Doctor to stumble onto later. This rebuilt Emperor may be teased, but must not be truly seen or truly defeated in the book; that would defeat the whole idea.

Hence, The Secret of the Emperor, a story which sees the Emperor becoming self-conscious about his own efficiency and letting the Scientist Daleks rebuild his casing from scratch. The final page is a splash panel, a delightfully nonsensical diagram of the mechanical components of the new casing.

The almost surreal array of colours and shapes is so arresting as to obscure an important detai. Many have seen this page over and over, and yet still missed it. The recent(ish) ‘Anatomy of the New Dalek Emperor’ artwork from Time Lord Victorious clearly looked at this page for reference, in spite of the fact that the TLV Emperor is much more inspired by the old Emperor than the rebuilt one.

Let me spell it out for you: look at the Scientist Daleks in the top right and centre-left. Look at them.

The new Emperor is huge.

And what else?

That Scientist on the left is plugging huge wires snaking from the wall into the tower-casing.

He now resides in the Great Hall of the Dalek City.

The background wall is a weird checkered pattern.

In addition, the following facts are seeded throughout the earlier pages of The Secret of the Emperor.

The point of moving to the new casing was to grant the Emperor increased brain capacity (suitable for concocting masterplans).

He acquired said increased brain capacity to help the Daleks attempt to overcome humanity once and for all.

The Emperor has recently had a trautmatic but eye-opening experience with time travel.

Ignore the fact that the Emperor was here depicted with what appears to be a still fairly bulbous, and golden, head, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this is very, very direct setup for how the Doctor finds the Dalek Emperor in The Evil of the Daleks — tower-like, in an imperial throneroom in the Dalek City, with a checkered wall pattern, planning out a complicated scheme to harness time travel as a means of defeating humanity once and for all!

Yes, the designs don’t quite match — but how could the artist behind the visuals of Secret of the Emperor have known precisely what Shawcraft would build, a year later, based on the same basic description by Nation & Whitaker? The parallels far outweigh the minor differences in execution. (It’s worth noting that elsewhere in the Outer Space Book a different artist drew what was clearly intended to be the Golden Emperor as a large, golden, but normally-proportioned Dalek, so it’s not like the visual descriptions of these scripts were exceedingly precise…)

The rebuilt Emperor is never seen in the Outer Space Book outside of this ‘dissection’: he is heard throughout The Brain Tappers but kept carefully off-panel, and his new and dangerous new casing is pointedly not destroyed in the story’s conclusion. Well, of course not. That’s what Dr Who is for.

tl;dr: it is not a post hoc retcon, or even a secret, that the round-headed Emperor of the comics became the Dalek Emperor of Evil of the Daleks. A holistic view of the state of Dalek media in 1966-1967 shows that, in fact, it was the whole point that this be the Emperor of the comics; and that the comics had begun setting this up long before Patrick Troughton encountered Edward Waterfield on TV.

And thus, to circle back to Sandifer’s 2011 post, it is not enough to simply say that the “seemingly non-canon” comics inspired the show down the line. In fact in this instance, what appeared on Doctor Who existed for the benefit of the Daleks spin-off — not vice-versa!

#Daleks #Canon-Welding #Doctor Who #Analysis #Doctor Who Meta #Dalek Emperor #Dalek Prime #The Evil of the Daleks #Terry Nation #David Whitaker #Brad Ashton #The Secret of the Emperor #El Sandifer #Canon #Jacob Black

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