#am gonna post this on ao3 too once i get approved for the invite
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Something in the Way
“If you're alive, raise your hands,” a male voice commanded. You obeyed, slowly lifting your arms in the air.
"Would it count if I said I was dead on the inside?"
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This is my first fanfic, just felt compelled to write! :)
I’m probably going to make this a series, which will go all the way to RE4. There will be fluff! There will be angst! There will be smut! (eventually). I love slow burns and try to be lore accurate, and as non-ooc as possible. I haven’t actually played the game bc i get too scared, but I watch the hell out of gameplay and read wikis and blah blah. It’s hard to fully grasp locations admittedly when you haven’t played the game before, so I fully admit that it’ll be gray in that area. Anyway... enough about me.
(a little bit about you, I’ve given you a bit of a past just to correlate with the story, at the end of the day: I want you to think about yourself or your own characters)
no y/n
RE2, then RE4 later
she/her pronouns
you are 20+
TW there will be mentions of gore, violence, and blood!
3.3k words
You're headed to Raccoon City to search for your estranged mother, but little did you know that chaos awaits you. On the bright side, a charming rookie cop may just be a pleasant surprise along the way.
D-DAY/ CHAP 1.
"My darling daughter,
As I write this, I feel the end coming near. I'm so sorry for not being there for you when you needed me most. Life got in the way, and I made mistakes that I deeply regret. I hope you can forgive me. Please know that I love you more than words can express, and I'm so proud of the person you have become. You're strong, kind, and compassionate, and I know you will make the world a better place.
As I face the end, I need you to promise me something. Please do not go looking for me or try to find me. I need you to focus on your own safety and survival. You are strong, and I believe in you.
Remember that I will always love you, and I will always be with you in spirit. Please take care of yourself, my love.
With all my heart,
Mom"
That was the email you received in your Hotmail account this afternoon. You had read it over and over again until it burned into your memory, reciting it in your mind to ensure that you would never forget it. You tried to reply, asking your mother what was happening and what she meant, but there was no response.
Admittedly, you were not very close to your mother. After a nasty divorce, you went to live with your dad in Washington, and since then, she had faded in and out of your life like a distant memory. Some "Happy Birthday" calls, "How's school going?" emails, and "I miss you" letters were all you had of her since you were 13 years old. It hurt like utter hell.
But every time she called, you answered, and she gave you updates on her life. Whenever she wrote, you reciprocated. You went back and forth with yourself on whether or not you should respond until the aforementioned email popped up.
Unfortunately for you, "do not go looking for me" was enough to trigger your stubborn heart to do exactly what she didn't want you to do. You had always been headstrong, "got it from your father," your mom always used to say. You weren't sure what her email meant, and you sure as hell didn't like what it was implying. Was she dying? Dying from what? Why? Her email left you with nothing, no proper closure. Your chest ached.
Was it too late? Would you ever see her again? Would you ever reconcile? You never even got the chance to forgive her.
Even if you didn't remember much about her, you at least knew where she lived and what her job was. Mom was a pharmacist for the Umbrella Corporation in Raccoon City, over by the Arklay Mountains. She moved there not long after the divorce and has worked there ever since. She didn't speak much about her job, though you also never probed about it either.
What is there to question about a pharmacist job anyway? “Hey, you ever filled a months supply of Viagra?” Does Viagra even get prescribed? You’re not sure.
Soon after receiving the email, you made your way towards the industrial city as quickly as possible. The drive usually took about 10 hours, but you managed to make it in 7 ½ hours by driving like a madman. You were worried about getting pulled over, but luckily, it seemed like no police officers wanted to do their job today.
The drive through the mountains was breathtakingly beautiful, yet nerve-wracking. The twists and turns were treacherous enough during the day, but as dusk turned into the dark of night, they became even more terrifying. To make matters worse, rain began to fall in sheets, pounding the roof of your dad's beat-up old truck with an incessant din. You couldn't help but curse aloud at how this great scenic drive was being ruined.
Your old wipers were no match for this kind of weather, and as soon as you got close enough to the city, you decided to make a pit stop. Your ass was aching too, and the next exit sign indicated a gas station to the left of the freeway. You turned on your blinker and merged onto the exit intersection, eager to stretch your legs and relieve yourself. Your plan was to fill up your gas tank, grab a few snacks for the rest of the ride, and be on your way.
As you approached the gas station, the bright lights illuminated the area like a birthday cake in a dark room. You pulled up quickly, eager to get out of the rain. Parking your truck on the opposite side of a Jeep Wrangler, you found it strange that there was no one inside or outside the vehicle. But you didn't think much of it and stepped out of your jalopy, using your arm to shield your eyes from the downpour.
As you made your way to the pump, you noticed that the gas station was also empty, with no lights on inside. This was starting to feel a little fishy. You looked back at another car and saw that it too was empty. Something was definitely not right here.
And then you saw it.
Blood.
Dark red blood was splattered all over the concrete beneath your feet.
"What the fuck?!" you exclaimed in shock and horror.
In the distance, a piercing screech cried out like something straight out of a horror movie, and it made your blood run cold. Your heart was racing as you frantically looked around, trying to locate where the sound may have come from. Your mind raced with possibilities, but nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to see.
And then you saw them. Maybe ten of them. Dead bodies, shuffling towards you in a grotesque parody of life. Their flesh was rotting, their skin hanging off their exposed muscles in ragged strips. The stench of decay was overwhelming, and bile rose in your throat as you tried not to vomit.
As they drew closer, you could see the extent of their injuries. Some had chunks of flesh missing, exposing their bones and organs. Others had been shot or stabbed, leaving gaping wounds that oozed with pus and blood. And yet, despite their injuries, they kept coming towards you, their eyes fixed on you with a hunger that made your skin crawl.
You tried to back away, but your legs felt like they were made of stone. You were rooted to the spot, paralyzed with fear as the undead creatures moved closer. Your heart pounded in your chest, your breaths coming in short gasps as you desperately tried to think of a way out. The zombies were moving closer, their decaying fingers reaching out to grab you, it felt like their rancid breath was almost hot on your face.
Holy fucking shit.
Suddenly, your body moved before you could think, hands shaking as you fumbled with the keys before finally jamming them into the ignition. "Come on, come on, come on," you muttered frantically to yourself. The engine roared to life, and you slammed the truck into reverse, feeling the impact as you hit a few of the undead behind you, their putrid flesh smearing across the back windshield.
Without hesitation, you hit the gas and plowed through the horde in front of you, sending limbs and gore flying in all directions. Tears streamed down your face as you screamed in terror, the sound muffled by the roar of the engine. It was all too much, too real. Your father's voice echoed in your head, telling you to be strong, not to cry.
But you couldn't help it. The sobs wracked your body, making it hard to breathe. You forced yourself to slow down, to take deep, shuddering breaths in and out, trying to regain control. The road ahead stretched out, empty and silent, and you drove on, heart pounding in your chest, praying that you would make it to Raccoon City alive.
---
The drive to Raccoon City was eerily silent. The usual sound of music blaring from the speakers was absent, and the only thing you could hear was the hum of the engine. Your hands clutched the steering wheel so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You tried to shake off the fear that had gripped you earlier, but it was no use. Those things you encountered were like nothing you had ever seen before.
You desperately searched for a logical explanation to what you had witnessed. Was it a flash mob? A sick prank? But deep down, you knew those weren't plausible explanations. As your thoughts raced, your thumbs drummed nervously on the steering wheel. Was this what your mom was warning you about? Despite everything, you knew you had to find her. She was still your mother, and you were determined to reunite with her.
It was about a half an hour before you arrived in the city. It was a harrowing scene, a city in utter chaos. The streets were littered with abandoned cars, some still smoking, as embers licked the sides of buildings. The once bustling city now looked like a warzone. And in the midst of it all were the undead, their groans and moans filling the air. A repeated message to survivors blared on speakers, urging them to head over to the police station as soon as possible. Your heart raced as you wondered if your mother was there.
As you drove through the chaos, your truck garnered much attention. Its engine roared and headlights pierced through the darkness and rain. You couldn't help but think back to your father's strict parenting and the basic combat and defensive training he instilled in you. He was an army veteran who raised you to be fearless, and you couldn't let him down now. Even though it had been years since you had thoroughly practiced, you knew how to defend yourself if necessary.
But as you drove through the chaotic streets, you couldn't shake off the feeling of terror that had gripped you since you first saw the walking dead. You were determined to find your mother, but the fear of not making it to the police station in one piece was starting to weigh on you.
You frantically scour the old truck for anything that could aid in your survival: a car jack, McDonald's wrappers, and your backpack. Nothing seems particularly helpful, except for the backpack. You realize that it might come in handy if you needed to carry supplies like water, herbs, or even a weapon while searching for your missing mother.
As the walking corpses pound and scratch at your vehicle, you feel the truck shake violently. You know it's time to make a run for it. Although you don't have a solid plan, you've had years of self-defense training and are confident in your ability to use your legs and elbows to fight off attackers.
You pray to God, if they exist, that you'll find something to defend yourself or that you'll have enough skill to make it out alive. You put on the backpack and with a swift kick, you shatter the back window and scramble onto the roof.
Now, you need to find the police department. But where the hell could it be?
As you shield your eyes from the pouring rain, you scan the area, thinking of heading north in the hopes of finding a clue to guide you in the right direction. To your surprise, your truck wasn't that far from the sanctuary. A large brick gate with the letters "RPD" above it caught your eye, the light shining behind the sign like an angel was paving the way for you. The fence was made of sturdy brick, and the gates were steel. You just hoped they were open for entry.
You bravely leap off the top of the vehicle and make a beeline for the gates, the creatures screeching and reaching their arms towards you. As they try to grab hold of you, you execute a swift and powerful kick, sending one of them flying into a nearby bus and breaking its neck at a disgustingly awkward angle.
Ew.
As you barely escape the grasps of the monsters, you finally reach the gates, but guess what?
They're fucking locked.
Shit! What are you supposed to do now?
You frantically search for an alternative entry point, dodging zombies left and right, shoving and kicking them aside as you go. Finally, you spot a fire escape on the adjacent side of the building that leads up to the second floor, which appears to be zombie-free from your current vantage point. However, the fire escape is not easily accessible as it's about 50 feet away and you're on solid ground. But just then, you notice a tree next to the window swaying in the wind, creating a potential opportunity for you to reach the fire escape.
You sprint towards the majestic tree, grateful for its existence as it becomes your savior in this moment of peril.
With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you desperately cling onto the slick wood with your fingertips, refusing to look back at the grotesque monsters that hungrily pursue you. Your muscles strain and ache as you haul yourself up through the slick and treacherous branches. Panic overtakes you as you inadvertently step on a brittle branch, causing it to snap beneath your weight. Time seems to slow as you teeter on the edge of disaster, but you manage to grab onto a sturdier branch just in the nick of time, your heart pounding in your chest as you gasp for air. As you climb further up the tree you see your opportunity to move towards the ledge of the fire escape.
Three…Two…One…Go!
You make a daring leap towards the fire escape, and for a moment, time seems to stand still as your eyes fixate on the dizzying drop beneath you. But your body moves on instinct, your fingers grappling for the metal bars with a desperate grip that tightens with the surge of pure adrenaline. You manage to catch hold of the bars, your fingers aching from the impact, but you cling on for dear life. You push your body forward, lifting yourself up and over the metal railing.
Before you know it, your knees give out as they hit the metal bars beneath you, your body succumbing to the intense exertion you just went through. Despite being accustomed to physical exhaustion, the experience of genuine fear was traumatic. You realize that your life could have ended in mere seconds if you had made one wrong move. Once you get back home, if you do, you'll definitely be discussing this with your therapist.
Your feet feel uncomfortably squishy in your Chuck Taylors, learning the hard way that the cloth shoes are definitely not made for running in this kind of weather. The rain is relentless, and you can feel your socks getting soaked through. You hope the powers that be don't bless you with trench foot by the end of this horrifying adventure.
---
You peer through the shattered window of the second floor, noticing the broken glass strewn about the darkened halls of the police station. The only source of illumination is the faint glow of moonlight. It's no surprise that the place looks abandoned. You take a moment to break off the remaining shards of glass, careful not to cut yourself on the sharp edges. With a roll of your jean jacket sleeve, you scrape off the remaining slivers of glass before cautiously sliding yourself through the window. As you land inside, you can't help but be hit by the putrid odor of death. The walls are adorned with blood and the lifeless bodies of the fallen, as if a deranged artist had been given free reign of the building.
You make every effort to remain silent, as the last thing you want is to alert any zombies that might be lurking inside the building.
As you scan the area, your eyes catch sight of wooden planks scattered on the ground, nails jutting out from their undersides. Someone must have tried to use them to barricade the windows, but it didn't seem to have worked out well. The darkness was all-encompassing, making it nearly impossible to see anything, despite your eyes adjusting to the dim environment. You do make out a staircase adjacent to the window, but the idea of ascending to the third floor seems uncertain given your lack of knowledge of the building's layout. You need to think fast and find a weapon.
Onwards then!
Silently navigating through the bloodied and cluttered halls, you cautiously avoid tripping over any obstacles that could give away your presence. Bodies of officers lay scattered on the floor, their once-protective uniforms now torn and blood-stained. Many of them had been infected and turned into zombies, their lifeless eyes staring off into the distance. As you survey the scene, you notice some of the bodies had gunshot wounds, while others had knives still embedded in their chests. It was clear that this area was now zombie-free only because someone had taken the time to exterminate them, but the question lingered in your mind: who could have done it?
After some time, you stumble upon a staircase leading downwards. You contemplate descending to the first floor, hoping to find something of use in the main hall. So far, you've scavenged through numerous bodies, but none of them had any usable firearms. However, you did find plenty of bullets, which could come in handy later on. Another curious detail you noticed was the abundance of red and green herbs scattered throughout the building. It was almost comical how many medicinal plants were growing in a police station, but in this apocalyptic world, you knew their healing properties could make all the difference.
As you searched a corpse, the beam of a flashlight suddenly appeared on the wall in front of you, casting your silhouette in the middle of it. Your heart racing, you froze, realizing someone was behind you. The sound of a gun being cocked only added to your anxiety.
“If you're alive, raise your hands,” a male voice commanded. You obeyed, slowly lifting your arms in the air.
You attempted to make light of the situation, hoping to ease the tension. "Would it count if I said I was dead on the inside?" you chuckled, but the fear still lingered.
You heard a small snort of laughter from the man behind you, which made you think that maybe he wasn't as serious as he seemed. It was a welcomed sound in a tense situation. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up.
"It's okay, you can turn around. I put away my gun. I'm an officer, well, I was supposed to be."
You noticed a hint of melancholy in his voice, but his tone was also encouraging. Still, you kept your hands up just to be cautious. When you finally turned around, the industrial flashlight shone in your eyes, causing discomfort. You shielded your eyes immediately.
"Ah, damn, sorry!" He scrambled to turn the flashlight away from you.
Despite the dim lighting, you could make out the silhouette of a man in front of you. He towered over you and was clad in a vest adorned with more pockets than you could count, like some sort of real-life action figure. His uniform looked like SWAT gear, vest emblazoned with the letters "RPD" that you assumed stood for the police department. As he drew closer, a musky scent mixed with the unmistakable metallic odor of blood wafted towards you, making you wrinkle your nose. You couldn't help but notice the dried blood and grime splattered across his torso, arms, and even the front of his legs. It was pretty clear that this guy was the one responsible for taking down the zombies that had been lurking around the station.
“My name is Leon, Leon Kennedy. And yours?”
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#re2 remake#re2#leon x reader#leon x y/n#resident evil#re4#fluff#re 4 remake#re 4#hopefully one person will at least read this but most likely i'll still work on it if no one does LMAO#am gonna post this on ao3 too once i get approved for the invite
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Genshin Impact | TartaLi/ZhongChi
Summary: “Home isn’t always a place,” he taps Zhongli’s chest, “home can mean a lot of things to different people. For me, my home is my family. Wherever they are is where my home is. And maybe that’s in Liyue, maybe it’s in Snezhnaya, or maybe it’s in Inazuma. Either way, wherever my mother is, wherever my siblings are, that’s what I call home.”
As Childe trails off, he’s suddenly aware of how he’s fidgeting with a button on Zhongli’s coat now. The tips of his ears turn red. He meets his gaze abashedly. “Does that answer your question?”
Zhongli smiles fondly at him. “I believe it does. Thank you for indulging me.”
Or; Zhongli struggles to define what exactly “home” means to him.
Find it on Ao3!
This part takes place between act V and Zhongli, Come Down. I know I posted this series totally out of order, please forgive me for my lack of organization :,D
A/N: First of all, I finally have a beta reader!! She’s helped me through the process of writing this and I’m incredibly thankful for her support. I accidentally made her cry with this fic though, even if it wasn’t necessarily sad?? Regardless I appreciate her feedback haha.
Oh my, I feel like I’ve been writing these two being really soft for too long. After this, I really need to face the music and write these two fighting. The time has come. They won’t be in the honeymoon phase forever!! I’m gonna vibe check all of you.
Also, do yourself a favor and listen to the songs Home by Michael Buble and Sparks by Coldplay after or during you read this. You’re welcome.
Lastly, you can find me on Twitter @/xiaoscribbles where I’m extremely active and talk too much about Genshin. I love making friends there!
Enjoy <3 -u.n.
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Zhongli never had a place to call home.
Or rather, he never bothered to find one of his own and commit to it.
He was always too mobile, too nomadic. He had places to be, people and adepti to see, contracts to see through. Zhongli never found himself settling into one place for too long. Sure, when he was Rex Lapis, he had nested many times. He was a beast whose presence was too large to be confined into one space, so he would glide to the highest mountain in Liyue with ample space for a dragon like him, and settle. Zhongli remembered how he would make it as comfortable as possible for himself using all kinds of things he would pick up on his travels. A deep purr of satisfaction would rumble through him as his scaled belly would make contact with the coolness of the earth, and Rex Lapis would allow himself to relax against the stone, body sinking as if he were weightless. Although, no matter how he shifted, tossed and turned when he tried to rest, something was always missing.
Even the familiar feeling of the Liyuan ground was not enough to fill the void in his chest.
It was satisfying, sure, but never completing.
Hence, his lack of understanding of the human desire to settle down in one home for the rest of their short, yet meaningful lives.
Were they not itching to get up and go somewhere else? See the world? Appreciate the land beneath their feet in all its entirety? Zhongli failed to comprehend. Even an ancient being like him fell short in understanding the idea of a “home”.
Well, what consisted of a home, anyway? Four walls and a roof over their heads? A kitchen filled with food? A soft bed with layers and layers of sheets? What was the meaning of all that, when the true beauty of the world was beyond those four walls, high into the sky, and deep beneath the sea? What kind of pleasure could possibly come out of being domesticated?
Nevertheless, Zhongli did make an old promise to try to understand humans as they were. So sure, Zhongli supposed he could appreciate the art of architecture. He saw how hard people worked to build these beautiful houses with intricate designs to maximize safety for the residents excited to inhabit them. It was endearing, Zhongli thought, how enthusiastic humans got about a house. The idea of settling down with their loved ones would give them so much serotonin, so much drive. It was inspiring to him. Zhongli had always hoped that one day, he could feel the same way about someone.
So why couldn’t bring himself to understand the joy in this “home” everyone spoke of? What was he missing? Was he missing the duvet? The one thousand thread count sheets? Was he missing the fine China he saw peddlers selling on roads far from town? Because he had tried his best, living in his mortal form, to find the simple pleasure in decorating his home.
But no matter what he did, no matter how many throw pillows he placed on the couch, he simply could not deny the gaping hole in his chest when he went to bed at night. He had reached a point where even cooking for one every night upset him so, and he would go to bed disgruntled and hollow. The vast margins left on the king sized bed in the middle of the night kept Zhongli awake. Though he did not even need sleep, he had tried his best to form what the humans called a “proper sleeping schedule”. Apparently, according to Hu Tao, sleeping at four in the morning and waking at seven for work was “not suitable”.
But in truth, what was he supposed to do? Pray tell, what could he possibly do to absolve the issue of the chasm growing in his chest with each passing night?
“Xiansheng!” A jovial voice snaps him out of his reverie.
Zhongli looks up from his mundane paperwork to see a familiar head of red hair bounding toward him languidly. Oh, what a sight for sore eyes.
“Childe,” he greets, “did you pester Miss Hu Tao into letting you back here again?”
“Pester?” Childe brings a hand to his chest to mock his hurt, “I hardly have to bother her to come back here. A simple ‘you look fantastic today’ is always my ticket in.”
Zhongli scoffs fondly. “How can I help you, Childe?” He sets his pen down and leans back in his chair, amber eyes following the Harbinger curiously.
“Well your break is in ten minutes, so I figured I’d come grab you for lunch at Wanmin?” Childe plants two hands flat on the cherry red oak desk and leans forward into Zhongli’s space. There’s his signature teasing smile spreading slyly across his face, the one he knows Zhongli won’t be able to resist.
Zhongli hums in approval. “Sure, let me just wrap up this last form and I should be ready to go shortly.”
Childe drops down to his elbows in response and rests his face between his palms. “You sure? We could just go now, you know. I got Hu Tao consulting Ying’er about the new fragrance for the next hour or so.”
Zhongli leans forward and meets him in the middle. “I must be responsible, Childe. If my lunch break is at noon, then I will not leave my post until then.”
Childe pouts, jutting his bottom lip out cutely in an attempt to convince him otherwise. Zhongli, immovable as ever, simply leans forward and captures his lips between his own. The Harbinger makes a happy noise in the back of his throat and presses closer, positively humming when the ex-Archon reciprocates. But the older man is quick to get back to work, pulling away as quick as he came, but not before he nips at Childe’s bottom lip. The ginger whines petulantly at the loss of contact.
“Have a seat, Ajax.” Zhongli speaks, a hair’s width away from kissing him again. Childe grumbles, but agrees regardless. He seats himself in one of the plush armchairs located in the corner of the office and makes himself comfortable for the next ten minutes.
Zhongli readjusts himself in his seat and picks his pen back up, glancing back down at the form he had already completed. He blinked owlishly at it. He must have finished signing it while Childe was talking without realizing what he had done. Regardless, he moves onto the next document to peruse silently. Mid sentence, he scoffs playfully, shaking his head at the thought of the ginger distracting him so. Is he even surprised at this point? Not even a little bit. The ginger has an incomprehensible hold on his heart, one that he doesn’t really want to shake off.
“Something funny, Xiansheng?” Childe teases from his seat. He’s reclined in his chair, relaxed, head lolling against the cushioned headrest. His eyes are closed and his shoulders are drooping into the leather. He’s relaxed, for once, and the thought of Ajax allowing himself to let his guard down in his presence makes Zhongli’s heart thump happily in his chest.
“Not particularly,” Zhongli pushes himself up with a groan. Goodness, his joints are getting tired. He pads over to where Childe is seated and forcefully makes room for himself on a chair that is clearly made for one person. Childe lets out a surprised yelp at the sudden intrusion but scoots over to make room, anyway. Zhongli makes himself comfortable by angling his body to where it’s being cradled by the junction between the armrest and the back, and opens his arms as a silent invitation.
Childe takes it happily and launches forward to burrow into Zhongli’s chest. He rests a gloved hand over his heart and snuggles closer, inhaling the deep scent of silk flowers and leather. Zhongli’s arms come around to strap him against his chest, gloved hands petting his sides as he presses a kiss to red hair. The contact immediately vanquishes the discourse in his mind. He squeezes him tight for good measure, forcing a grunt out of his Tartaglia.
“Xiansheng,” he calls.
“Hm?”
“You’re working too hard again.”
“Am I?” He questions absentmindedly. “And here I thought I was pulling my weight just fine.”
Childe snorts. “Pulling your weight? You know I make enough for the both of us. You could retire and stay at home, relaxing and reading books, or whatever it is you do at home.”
Ah, there it is again.
Home.
For the second time that day, Zhongli is struck with confusion.
“What is home to you, Childe?” He asks, voice soft and far away. Childe frowns against his chest in confusion.
“Home?” He parrots.
“Yes, home. What is ‘home’ to you, Tartaglia?”
“Hmm,” the Harbinger hums, tapping a gloved finger against the ex-Archon’s chest idly as he speaks. “I suppose home is Snezhnaya. Home is what I grew up in. The unbearable cold and the old cottage house. Ice fishing with my siblings, massaging my mother’s back. Those things are all home to me.”
Zhongli ponders. Of course that is what home means. Familiarity, yes? So, technically, his home was Liyue. The hustle and bustle of trade by the harbor, the loud sizzling woks at the food stands, the loud marketers on the street that work hard day and night, the enthusiastic story tellers spewing exaggerated lies— that was all home to him.
So why, then, was Zhongli still dissatisfied with this conclusion? Home should obviously be Liyue. He created this land with his own two hands. Gave people the very drive that keeps them alive today; he gave the idea of mora and fair trade and economic prosperity. He’s watched countless faces pass him every day, every year, every century. He’s seen new faces, young faces, old faces, familiar faces, too, the ones he had seen on older souls. Reincarnated souls. Zhongli knew those souls. He’s had dinner with many of them on multiple occasions.
And it was no secret that Zhongli was well known in his hometown. Every business owner was familiar with his eloquent way of speaking and ambitious ways of buying. With the arrival of Childe, every business owner all but doubled their enthusiasm now that Mister Zhongli finally had a means to pay. People knew Zhongli, they adored him. They admired his amber eyes and long, beautiful hair, the ends of it looking like it had been dipped in melted mora. When he walked, people’s eyes followed. They would stare longingly at his beautifully crafted coat, his single earring, the fine leather gloves that cover his deft hands, and they would admire the way he walked with purpose, and with fire. A confidence so set in stone, it was almost difficult for one to even approach Mister Zhongli. For so long, he was considered Liyue’s most handsome bachelor, until of course Tartaglia came along and swept him off of his feet, capturing his attention in a way no one else could ever imagine imitating.
Yet, despite all the attention his people lavished upon him, there was always a nagging feeling of isolation nipping at him in the back of his mind. Despite creating the very ground beneath their feet, he simply felt like he did not fit in. Only when he was with Tartaglia did he truly feel like he belonged anywhere. It was rather inexplicable. There was something about the way Tartagali’s presence wrapped around him with a level of tenderness he had never experienced. It covered him like a gentle embrace, welcomed him without judgement, and loved him without expecting anything in return. The thought of Ajax himself made Zhongli’s heart swell
Speaking of which, the said man was now pressed tightly against his chest tracing lazy patterns into the fabric of his coat. Their long legs were tangled where they were dangling off the seat, with Tartaglia’s foot rubbing affectionately against the older man’s ankle.
Oh, how far they have come.
“But,” Tartaglia suddenly interjects, jolting Zhongli out of his thoughts. “If my family were to come here to Liyue to stay, then I suppose Liyue would be home, too.”
Zhongli hums. “Naturally. I’m sure they would find the variety of houses here in Liyue nice and peaceful, perfect for a new home.”
At that, Childe lets out a light laugh. “Honestly? They could live in a cardboard box in Inazuma, and I would still call that home.”
Zhongli frowns. Well now he’s even more confused than when he started. Since when was a cardboard box a suitable home for a human? It completely lacked all the appliances the houses here in Liyue had. Why would Childe settle for that? He of all people was aware of the love he holds for his family, there simply was no way he would call that a suitable home for his family.
“I don’t understand,” he says instead, “a cardboard box, Tartaglia? You do not strike me as the type to settle for such an...unbecoming home. Especially for your family.”
“No, no, Xiansheng,” the Harbinger chuckles, sitting up slightly so he can look Zhongli in the eye. “I was just exaggerating. And, home isn’t always supposed to be a house, you know. Those two things can be mutually exclusive. Maybe not all the time, but, definitely most of the time.”
Well this was certainly new. Now he truly did not understand what it meant to have a home.
“Apparently I do not know.”
Childe sits upright to look down at the ex-Archon.
“Home isn’t always a place,” he taps Zhongli’s chest, “home can mean a lot of things to different people. For me, my home is my family. Wherever they are is where my home is. And maybe that’s in Liyue, maybe it’s in Snezhnaya, or maybe it’s in Inazuma. Either way, wherever my mother is, wherever my siblings are, that’s what I call home.”
Childe is aware he’s rambling, but he can’t help it. Once he starts talking about his siblings, he simply cannot stop. “It wouldn’t matter where I was if I couldn’t hear my siblings from the other room. If I didn’t wake up to Tonia’s loud blow dryer every morning, or if I didn’t hear Anthon trying to talk to her over the blowing, then it isn’t home. If I can’t hear Teucer’s footsteps coming toward me asking about a new Mr. Cyclops toy, it isn’t home. Not to me. But like I said, it’s different for everyone.”
As Childe trails off, he’s suddenly aware of how he’s fidgeting with a button on Zhongli’s coat now. The tips of his ears turn red. He meets his gaze abashedly. “Does that answer your question?”
Zhongli smiles fondly at him. “I believe it does. Thank you for indulging me.”
Childe pushes himself up and off the chair, stretching and yawning obnoxiously. “Great,” he replies once his jaw finishes unhinging itself from that yawn, “let’s eat, I’m starving.”
—
To put it simply, Zhongli rethinks his definition of home all night. After he gets home from his dinner date (Tartaglia tugged on his sleeves until he agreed to leave his shift early in favor of a new restaurant that had popped up recently), he closes the door behind him to take in the composition of his home. Tartaglia had been the one to pick out most of the furniture, so although it lacked many of the traditional Liyuan decor Zhongli would have furnished the place with himself, it had a nice touch of Tartaglia everywhere he went.
His couch, for example, was a deep mahogany leather that stayed cool to the touch despite the hottest of summers. Zhongli’s dresser was nice and tall, a deep chestnut brown cut from the forests of Snezhnaya to match his bed frame. His bed was elevated by an incredibly grandiose four post frame that hung a beautiful golden translucent curtain all around the bed, draping the perimeter and creating an ethereal atmosphere for when he sleeps at night.
(“It’s kinda sexy, don’t you think?” Childe had asked one day, while he was pondering which bed frame to buy for his boyfriend. Not that he needed to, considering Zhongli finally has a stable salary, he just wanted to.
“Ajax,” Zhongli had said disapprovingly, “what about it is sexy to you?
“I don’t knowww,” the Harbinger hums, “maybe it looks like I would feel like I’m on cloud nine when we’re, you know…”
“You can say sex, Ajax, I believe in you.”
“Oh stop that!” Childe whacks him playfully with the catalogue, “I’m being a good boyfriend and getting you a beautiful bed frame cut from the finest oak tree and sheets woven with high quality silk! You could be nicer to me, you know.” He’s pouting, and he knows it. Zhongli’s eyes soften.
Zhongli shakes his head, laughing. “You know you don’t need to do that, you know.”
“I want to,” Ajax persists, “this is your first actual living space as a mortal! I want it to be perfect. I refuse to have my boyfriend, who is a literal god, sleeping on a bed with no bed frame. Unacceptable.”
Zhongli smiles and watches him as he continues to ramble about all the different bed frames he could buy. Oh, his love for this boy knows no end.)
The hints of Ajax everywhere he goes is how he keeps himself sane each night. His possessive urge to be around him every second of every day (courtesy of being a dragon deity his entire six thousand year life span) is soothed with the smell of him on his sheets and the extra toothbrush by the sink. One of Tartaglia’s scarves is folded neatly on the arm of his couch, and during those nights where he truly feels Ajax’s absence, he’ll hold the red fabric close and breathe the scent in deeply. The smell alone is enough to rock him to sleep on some nights, but on others, it simply is not enough. On those nights, he finds himself reading book after book about Snezhnaya culture until he passes out from exhaustion.
One would think that it would be better for them to just live together. Given that they spent every second outside of work with each other, even going so far as walking the long route home just to avoid saying goodbye, a person would look at the way they held each other close in public and think that they’ve been married for quite some time already.
But alas, they had agreed to take their relationship slow in the beginning. The both of them had much to adjust to, given that one of them was a notoriously fierce Harbinger, and the other was an ex-Archon adjusting to the world without his gnosis. They both had complex schedules that they were much too familiar and comfortable with to just up and leave for another person. There was a certain period of time that they had agreed to spend apart, well, as “apart” as they could be, before they decided to do anything drastic, like move in together.
There was too much to consider, anyway, Zhongli reflects as he gets ready for bed. Would their living habits even align? Would Tartaglia even be a good roommate? Would he take out the trash responsibly? As much as he loves the ginger with his entire heart, he doesn’t think he could do it for long if Tartaglia was the type to walk around with shoes on. Such an act should be considered illegal, anyway.
Waiting was the right thing to do.
Right?
The nights Tartaglia spent with him were the nights he could sleep a full, uninterrupted eight hours. They were the nights that Zhongli felt himself truly relax into the sheets and sink into a blissful sleep, knowing his beloved was being held impossibly close. And if nighttime was therapeutic for him, mornings felt ethereal. The mornings where he rose with the sun to be met with the sight of Tartaglia next to him were the mornings he felt like he could fly again, and soar through the open Liyue skies in his rawest form forever, so long as Tartaglia was with him.
In fact, more often than not, Zhongli thought about the way it would feel to have Childe by his side as he explored the skies again. He would think about the way he would have to strap him down, nice and close so he doesn’t fall off his back, and then take off high into the sky. Not too high, lest he accidentally give his boyfriend a heart attack, but high enough to hear those delightful shrieks Childe will let out when he’s excited. He thinks about the way Childe could grasp onto his mane for security, hands threading through golden locks, legs tightening around his torso to avoid falling. Oh, he thinks about this a lot.
But, waiting was the right thing to do. The last thing he wanted was for Childe to feel uncomfortable with the pace that their relationship was going and make him uneasy. Besides, just because he was a possessive dragon at heart, it didn’t mean Ajax was willing to cater to his needy tendencies. So, he promised himself that he would create a reasonable distance between them for the time being.
Why then, did he hate this distance with every fiber of his being?
Why is the distance so unbearable, especially at night?
Why is he so unsettled with the very few miles between them? It’s not like Zhongli is in Liyue and Childe is in Snezhnaya. Tartaglia is literally only at the inn.
Yet he craves nothing more but to be close to him at all times. Zhongli’s skin itches with the desperate desire to feel him by his side when he goes to bed, when he wakes up, and all the moments in between. Does that make him clingy? Maybe. But old habits die hard.
Zhongli huffs and looks down at his flattened pillow with disdain. No amount of fluffing will restore it to a state that is suitable for his likes. Even the elegantly woven silk night robe wrapped around his body offers little to no comfort.
He glances at the clock.
It’s only half past midnight. If all went well with Tartaglia’s shift, he should be home now, fresh out of the shower.
Without thinking twice, Zhongli throws together an overnight bag and rushes out the door.
—
“Coming, I’m coming,” Childe calls to the incessant knocks at his door. The knuckles continue to rap against the barrier, though, and Childe’s fingers itch to summon a water blade in the case that things go south. Considering that there is rarely anyone that would dare to disturb him at this time of night, Childe would say his precautionary measures are reasonable. He had summoned an angry water god, after all. It was only a matter of time before the angry mobs got to him.
The knocks sound again, and Childe angrily ruffles his hair against the towel. If they could just wait one second, he could answer the door with dry hair, but no. Peace was not an option, apparently, and neither was a perfectly fluffed head of hair.
He stomps toward the door and swings it open, ready to scold whoever had—
“Xiansheng!” He startles when he sees Zhongli standing in the doorway, donning a simple black t-shirt tucked into high waisted pants that were loose and slightly flared at the bottom, and his feet were covered by simple strappy sandals. Childe vaguely remembers purchasing those pants for him when he had mentioned wanting more loose and liberating clothes. The ex-Archon looks good like this. He looks… impossibly soft. Vulnerable, almost. There’s a distant look in his amber eyes that has Childe mildly concerned, though. Childe tries to ignore the sudden urge to protect him to his last dying breath.
“What are you doing here?” He sidesteps and reaches out to drag his boyfriend in. “I thought we had already discussed you sleeping so late! I know you’re an adeptus, you don’t require sleep, blah blah blah, but still, you—“
“I missed you,” Zhongli stated so matter of factly. “I wanted to see you. So I came here.”
Childe gawks at him and closes the door slowly. So he had just walked all the way here?! At this hour?! Goodness, the audacity—
“Xiansheng,” he whines instead, dragging the older man into an embrace. He wraps his arms around his neck and presses his cheek into his hair. “You can’t just say those things. It’s impossible for me to love you more.”
Zhongli holds him with desperation, welcoming the hug so enthusiastically that Childe knows there’s something to be said.
“Can I stay the night?” The adeptus asks once they pull apart.
Childe looks at him, dumbfounded. “You don’t even need to ask! Go, make yourself comfortable. Are you hungry? Have you had dinner?”
Zhongli drops his bag by his side of the bed and takes a seat, still watching Childe with careful eyes.
“I’ve eaten,” he answers carefully. “I just couldn’t seem to get comfortable at… home… so I came here.”
Childe frowns, and joins him on the bed. He flips the covers open and clambers in, resting back against the headboard. “Not comfortable? Is something wrong with your place?”
“Maybe,” Zhongli tries, “I really don’t know. Frankly I’ve been conflicted about… many things… recently, and I feel as if I have reached an impasse. I don’t know where to go from here.”
“Zhongli,” Tartaglia says, suddenly serious, “how come this is the first time I’m hearing of this?” His voice drops an octave, the worry seeping into his tone.
Zhongli reclines and rests against the headrest, too. “I did not know how to express my troubles to you, mainly because I’m having trouble defining it myself.”
Well, that’s fair enough. Tartaglia can’t find it in himself to be mad at that reasoning.
“Well,” Tartaglia begins, reaching for Zhongli’s hand and hugging his arm to his chest. He scoots closer and uses Zhongli’s shoulder as a pillow. “Why don’t you just start rambling and maybe it’ll come to you.”
“I think I have a vague idea, actually,” Zhongli adjusts himself to make himself more comfortable for Ajax. The both of them find themselves staring up at the ceiling as they converse. “Remember when I asked you what ‘home’ means to you?”
“Of course,” Tartaglia answers. Oh, he has an idea of where this is going.
“Well, I’m unsure of what it means to me.”
Bingo.
“What it means to you?” The Harbinger asks, craning his neck to look up at him. Zhongli hums, affirmative.
“Yes, I’ve been struggling to define the term for myself. I’ve been observing others much more closely and how they define their own home, but I’m afraid it has made me more confused.”
Tartaglia juts out his bottom lip in contemplation. “What do you mean?”
Zhongli takes a deep breath, a long explanation at the tip of his tongue. Tartaglia braces himself, as he usually does.
“Today you told me home was your family. Miss Xiangling told me home was her father, and the smell of their kitchen. Young Xingqiu told me his home was within whatever book he was reading, even describing it as his safe space. And Miss Ningguang, most peculiar of all, had told me home was when she was out at sea, but only when Captain Beidou was by her side. Mind you, I had fully expected it to be the Jade palace, considering the built it from the ground up.” Zhongli rambles, “and I just found it strange how so many humans find different definitions for the word home. Such a simple word, too, so imagine my surprise when I discover it’s true complexity.”
“I’ve encountered many things in my life, Ajax. I have met so many people in this lifetime and watched them grow, watched them die, and even watched some be reincarnated. But I think…” he trails off, and the warmth in his eyes glimmer as he reaches an epiphany. “I think I am struggling to define the term because I have never been presented with the idea of stability. Things are always changing. The world around me continues to warp and I have noticed, in my time so far, that humans find the need for stability and reassurance because of the nature of their short lives. That is where I am lacking.”
—
Try as he might, Tartaglia takes slight offense to his statement.
Lacking stability? The thought was bitter on his tongue.
Was… was Childe not enough?
No, no, he forcefully derailed that train of thought, he came here tonight because you’re the only thing he can rely on in his life right now. Show him that.
“Well,” Childe starts carefully, and thanks the stars that his voice is steady. “What about me?”
Zhongli makes a confused noise. “What about you?”
“Do you consider me as a stable thing in your life?” Childe prods, digging his cheek deeper into his shoulder.
“Oh, absolutely not,” Zhongli snorts.
Childe unironically feels an ache in his chest. He stills against Zhongli. Ouch.
Luckily, Zhongli is at least able to pick up on his sudden discomfort, and he’s quick to follow up his statement.
“You misunderstand, Ajax, you being wildly chaotic is a beautiful thing in and of itself.” Zhongli gently pries Childe off his arm to look at him directly. As expected, Childe is upset. He’s got the same glassy eyes he always dons when he’s upset, but doesn’t want to admit it, and his bottom lip is red and obviously bitten in an attempt to keep himself from feeling unreasonably angry.
“Oh,” Zhongli coos at the sight, “I’m sorry my love, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s fine,” Childe blinks hard, “I’m just being dumb.”
“You’re not being dumb,” Zhongli is quick to negate his self-deprecative tendencies, “I must have come off very harsh just now. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Childe thumps a fist against his chest, “it’s fine, really.”
“As I was saying,” the Archon continues, “nothing about my life so far has been stable, Ajax. Things are constantly changing. Time continuously flows, and it simply does not wait for any man. Unfortunately, I have seen many people come and go. And unfortunately, one day you will become one of them--”
“Zhongli stop,” Childe interrupts him. He’s angry, now. His brows are furrowed and there’s an evident frown on his face. There’s a slight scowl across his lips where there used to be a precious smile just moments ago. “What the hell?” He asks angrily.
“Ajax,” Zhongli scolds softly, “it would be in your best interests if you let me finish.”
“Well, not if you’re just gonna talk about death,” Childe retorts. He’s aware that he sounds childish, but such a topic is not to be taken to lightly. Especially when it revolves around him, and what he would be leaving behind. The thought makes him sick to his stomach.
“Whether or not you’re stable, whether or not you’ll be here forever, you are the most important thing to me, probably ever.” He speaks with a certainty that makes Childe shiver. “You are the first person in a very long time that has made me want to try to grasp at the fleeting seconds I have with you, Ajax. You drive me crazy. And I love you for it, because never in my six thousand years have I had as much fun as when I am with you.”
Dammit, Childe is crying now. Zhongli has such a way with words, how could he not? Dating him is just one, huge, glorified emotional rollercoaster. Zhongli brushes a stray, reluctant tear away with the pad of his ungloved hand.
“Frankly, stability is overrated,” the ex-Archon smiles at the soft giggle that escapes his beloved’s lips. “I have found, albeit slowly, that I would rather have someone loud and rambunctious than someone slow and settled. That is my role, if anything. There simply cannot be two of us, can there?”
A soft “no” is huffed as laughter from Childe. What a boring relationship that would be, truly.
“But if it is stability you seek, Ajax, let me be that for you. Let me be here, solid as stone and steadfast. Let me be the pillar of strength you need to turn to in times of trouble. Okay?” He brushes a knuckle gently across his skin.
Childe makes a sound that sounds a little broken and a little delirious. “When did this become about me, Xiansheng?”
“To me, it’s always been about you,” Zhongli smiles fondly. Childe feels as if he’s been shot in the heart.
Childe gives him a shaky smile and nods. He can’t seem to control his heart at the moment, so instead, he says, “You’re my home, Zhongli.”
--
The gears seemed to finally click somewhere in Zhongli’s chest. The hollow feeling inside suddenly swelled with a sense of nostalgia, bringing with it a feeling of peace and serenity. Zhongli’s eyes widen, and the ex-Archon looks down at Childe with a sudden air of solid certainty. Childe almost shrinks at the intensity of his gaze.
“Of course,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Of course it’s you.”
“What?”
“How could I be so blind?” Zhongli cups his face with both hands, and Childe reciprocates by placing both palms on his wrists. Confused, but following along. Cor lapis eyes stare straight into his soul, unforgiving as it digs deeper and deeper into what makes him whole.
“Xiansheng?” Ajax asks, dazed by the intensity of Zhongli’s stare. God, his eyes are so golden.
“It’s you, Ajax,” for once, his voice cracks and he loses composure, “you… are home. You are home. To me, that is my definition of home. I only ever feel-- I only ever feel like I belong when I am with you. It was so obvious, and I--”
“Zhongli,” Ajax gently pries off the hands cupped around his face. His heart can’t handle this right now. It’s too much. He’s too in love, he needs to do something or he’ll explode. He stares directly into those beautiful, mesmerizing golden eyes. Ajax cradles Zhongli’s hands in his own, petting over his knuckles, when he asks, “Marry me?”
His eyes widen comically, as if they weren’t already the size of saucepans with his first epiphany.
“Oh.”
So that’s what he was missing.
“I know we said we would take it slow, and I know I’m young, or whatever” Childe begins to ramble, “but fuck going slow, Xiansheng, it’s been months and all I want to do is go to sleep with you next to me. I know what I want and it seems like you do, too, but if I misread that then--”
Zhongli hushes him with an incessant press of his lips against Childe’s. It is a loving kiss, yes, but it is filled with a desperation that only the both of them understand. It is a kiss that is so different from the others; one full of certainty and ambition, a kiss full of overwhelming commitment. The longing behind the contact is an answer in and of itself, but he pulls away to speak regardless.
“Yes,” he breathes, pressing his forehead against Childe’s, “yes.”
That night, Zhongli finally comes to the conclusion that home does not have to mean four walls and a roof. It doesn’t pertain to any kind of fancy kitchen appliances, or four post bed frames. Zhongli quickly learns that it doesn’t have to be about a place, and all the stories it tells. It’s not even Liyue, the very land he built himself. It has nothing to do with any of that. In fact, the sheer ridiculousness of Zhongli’s inner conflict has him rolling.
Instead, it has everything to do with the red head beneath him. It has to do with the way he calls his name in the middle of the night, claws his hands down his back and juts his hips forward, desperately seeking friction. Home has everything to do with swollen lips, red from being kissed, cheeks hot pink from the heat slowly filling the room, and strong thighs clenching and unclenching around his waist. Home has to do with his precious Snezhnayan soulmate.
Simply, home is Ajax.
#genshin impact#genshin impact fanfiction#tartali#zhongchi#chili#tartaglia x zhongli#childe x zhongli#character study#zhongli struggles a lot...#childe#tartaglia#zhongli#rex lapis#help i want what they have
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The Gala
Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Reader
Word Count: ~2500
Genre/Warnings: Fluff, second-hand embarrassment
Summary: Momo convinces you to go to a gala. After being abandoned, you spend the night complaining to Todoroki about just how boring this party is. Little did you know, Todoroki was the host of this party.
A/N: I wrote this during finals week and I’ve barely edited it, just look at that detailed header lol. Also posted on my ao3 @allie_win
(masterlist)
You had no clue how you got here.
Well, you had some ideas.
It all started a week ago when Momo Yaoyuozu, otherwise known as Creati, invited you to a gala.
~~
“It will be the perfect place to get your feet out there,” She exclaimed while rummaging through her closet to try and find a dress that would fit you.
“You don’t have to keep babying me,” You demanded while watching her pull out a pale green dress you had seen her wear multiple times. “Just because you were my buddy in my first year at U.A. doesn’t mean you always need to guide me.”
“Listen, Y/N-chan,” She sighed. She sat down at the glorious armchair by her closet, “You have been a hero for a year now and an intern with me since your first. I loved helping you during my third year, I loved seeing you grow!” She tucked her hair behind her ear and debated her next words carefully. “However, even after a whole year of hero work, you haven’t made a name for yourself. You are so amazing and should be in at least the top 100 heroes.”
You groaned and let your body fall onto her soft bed. “I hate how you are always right,” You mumbled.
It had been a tough year for you.
Mistake after mistake pulled you lower and lower on the hero ranking. It felt impossible to climb back up.
Yaomomo, as kind as ever, got up from her chair and made her way to you. She kindly moved your hair out of your face and scratched your scalp. “This is an important gala, going will get you an amazing opportunity to make connections.”
“Yeah,” You agreed, closing your eyes. “I want a black dress.”
Momo gasped and immediately got up. “I know just the one,” She exclaimed.
~~
So, now here you were.
You had just arrived with Momo, who immediately got you a glass of champagne before abandoning you to go say hello to some colleagues.
“Go ahead and make some friends,” She called out while being dragged away by some friends.
You sighed and turned around to looked around the room. You tipped your glass and chugged down the bubbly liquid courage. You immediately placed your empty glass on a dish passing by and grabbed another glass.
There were so many heroes around the room and all of them were chatting away with each other and exchanging cards. You saw a few familiar faces in the crowd, some being people you’ve worked with and some being past classmates.
However, the person that really caught your attention was Todoroki Shouto. He was dressed in a dark blue suit and matching tie with velvet linings. His hands were empty and shoved in his pockets. He was standing in a corner in a very similar way to you.
What really interested you in Todoroki was that he wasn’t chatting with anyone. He was one of the top heroes and rarely worked on his friendship with heroes or approval ratings. And yet, he was in the top 3 in approval rating.
You took another sip of your drink and pushed yourself forward. If you wanted to talk to anyone at this party, it was him. You wanted to find out how he climbed to the top without having to waste his time talking to people at parties.
“Todoroki Shouto,” You greeted once you were in range for him to hear you.
The reserved man looked up from the ground to see you.
“Ah,” He said, taking his hands out of his pockets and holding it out to shake yours. “Y/L/N Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”
You graciously took his hand to shake it. “The pleasure is all mine,” You smiled.
“How are you enjoying this party?” He asked.
Although it threw you off that he would be asking you about the party or ready and willing to talk to you, the champagne in your stomach made it a little too difficult to figure anything out. “Rather boring, honestly,” You explained. “I haven’t been here long, but I’m not one for parties.”
He hummed in reply. “Neither am I,” He agreed which helped calm your nerves.
Talking to one of the top heroes could be nerve-wracking, so his comment about not being one for parties made you feel much more comfortable. “Yeah,” You sighed in agreement, “It’s not like this party is that great anyway.”
“Oh really?” Shouto inquired, his eyes piercing into you. “Please elaborate.”
His heavy gaze made your face feel much hotter than usual, but you ignored the feeling and continued on. “Well, the food is all seafood and garlic. By the end of the night, this place is gonna smell like alcohol and dead fish.”
You drank the rest of your glass and had it immediately replaced by one of the staff members.
“I do like the staff,” You noted while the young man holding a tray politely bowed to Todoroki.
You looked back to the handsome man in front of you. Maybe you were babbling more than usual because of how attractive he was and how nervous he made you. Regardless, the drinks in your system made it impossible to tell.
Suddenly the song changed to one rather basic. It felt like a pop song that was made in a lab to simply reach the top 100. It hurt your ears and your tipsy personality couldn’t help but comment on it.
“Oh,” You exclaimed, grabbing Todoroki’s attention. “I also hate this music. The DJ really sucks!” You shouted over the obnoxious beat.
“Would you like to move away from the stage then?” Todoroki offered.
That took you by surprise.
You were well aware of how much more loud you could get while drinking and you did not expect Todoroki to actually want to keep a conversation with you. You nodded and attempted to sober up while following him to one of the many tables in the back. Along the way, you were both frequently stopped by people greeting the multi-chrome man. You didn’t think too much of it because you were too busy trying to figure out why he actually wanted to keep talking to you.
Despite that, each person greeted Todoroki, complimented the party, and then curtly nodded at you. Of course, no one would want to talk to you or introduce themselves. You were a nobody. And you were sure you looked like a red mess with a glass of alcohol in your hand. If only they knew the redness was more for the man they were currently talking to.
By the time you made it to the table, the song had already changed again.
“You sure are popular,” You commented while maneuvering your dress to take a seat in the chair.
“Ah,” Todoroki began, “I am sorry I had to turn my attention away. I hope you understand.”
You smiled at the shy man in front of you. “Don’t apologize. I would kill to have had any of those people even know my name. I’m not the best publicly and I need a drink in me to really get me to start talking.”
Todoroki hummed in response. “I understand. I also find it hard to speak up sometimes. Although I am glad you had enough courage to speak to me tonight.” Cue the redness once again spreading across your face. “I’m enjoying our conversation.” Shouto looked up and smiled kindly at you.
To think the most handsome student from high school, the guy all your friends dreamed to be with even though they were two years younger, actually enjoyed talking to you? Impossible. You needed water. You really needed water.
Your mouth was dry and you were suddenly very hot despite your flowy dress.
“Are you okay?” Todoroki asked while observing your body language. You could tell he was about to go into hero mode.
“I’m fine,” You waved him off. “I think I just need some water.” You looked around the large hall in hopes of finding I tray with water on it.
Before you could spot one, Todoroki spoke up, “Allow me.” He grabbed your now empty champagne glass and filled it with ice. You used his opposite hand to slowly heat up the glass and melt the ice into water. He finished off by putting a few ice cubes back into the water to cool it down.
You graciously took the glass from him, surprised he would be willing to show off his quirk so easily in public. You took a sip of the rather refreshing water before thanking him.
“My pleasure,” He replied. There was a slight lull before Shouto spoke up once again. “So, please tell me more about this tragically horrible party.”
Laughter erupted from your stomach, not expecting him to ask you to complain more. “Hmm,” You mumbled, putting your chin in your hand in thought. “Well, the color scheme is tacky. Purples and golds are the classic color of royalty so whoever threw this party is pretty stuck up.”
“And what would you recommend?” Todoroki inquired.
Before you could really hold yourself back, each thought you had about this party began rushing out of your mouth. “Pale blue instead of purple, but keep the gold. Replace the seafood with more vegetable-based dishes. The egg tarts for dessert don’t even go with fish. You need something light like mousse. If they went with veggie dishes then I would have suggested elegant little cakes, like cupcakes, but smaller and less icing. It would help sober people up against all the drinking. Also! I haven’t even mentioned that they only have champagne! Jeez, they really should have white and red wine, especially white for the fish and red for the cake. Or whatever…” You faded out after realizing how long you had been babbling on.
“Sounds like you should be a party planner instead of a hero,” Shouto commented. You thought he may be trying to tease you, but the plain look on his face made him seem quite serious.
“Maybe,” You sighed, “It’s not like I’m doing very well as a hero. I hate all this politics and rating stuff.”
Shouto hummed in response. “Don’t dwell on sadness when you have a horrible party to complain about.”
“You actually like to hear me complaining?” You asked, quirking your eyebrows.
Todoroki simply nodded and motioned for you to continue.
“Okay,” You looked around the large hall. “Not to be too nitpicky, but this party is just boring. No one has gone on the stage to say anything. No one is dancing. Should people even be dancing? Or maybe I’m missing something. Who am I to say? This is my first hero gala.” You shrugged your shoulders sheepishly smiled. You were sobering up enough to know you were embarrassing yourself, but not enough to actually stop yourself from babbling.
Regardless, it seemed Todoroki actually liked listening to you complain.
The attentiveness made you all the more aware of everything. You suddenly felt sweat on the back of your neck. “Maybe I should just leave,” You mumbled to yourself, getting a little too frazzled as Todoroki’s attention.
“Are you not feeling well?” He questioned, perking up slightly.
“No,” You began, “It’s just that this party is so utterly boring--”
“Y/N-chan,” Mom called a few feet away. “I’m so sorry I lost you!”
You sheepishly smiled, too kind to tell her off. “It’s okay, I’ve had great company,” You explained while motioning to Todoroki.
“Ah, of course! Hello again, Shouto-san,” She greeted while politely shaking his hand. “You know, Y/N-kun, it is very unlike you to befriend people so easily at parties nevertheless the host of the party.”
It took you a moment to register what she said.
In fact, you almost started talking before shutting your mouth after realizing just what Yaomomo said.
Todoroki Shouto is the host of the party.
The party you have been bad-mouthing for the past half an hour.
“I-uh-I,” You babbled, unsure how to approach such a sensitive topic.
Before you had a chance, Todoroki stood up and buttoned up his velvet blazer. “Although I would love to stay and chat, I must make an announcement.” He politely bowed, which you and Momo returned, before he made his way to the stage.
“Y/N-kun, are you okay?” Momo asked, “You look a bit pale.”
You looked at your kindred friend and gulped down the lump in your throat. Momo always wanted to help you, so maybe she could help you now. “I have spent the last half hour with Todoroki talking about how boring and badly planned this party is,” You recalled.
“Oh no,” Momo whispered.
“Oh yes.”
The mic clicked and Todoroki began a short and sweet speech. He thanked everyone who came and started discusses why he planned this gala. It was something about charity, but you were lost in your own world.
“What do I do, Momo-san?” You pleaded, hoping your mentor would have some insight into the popular hero.
“I’m surprised he didn’t stop you, honestly,” She debated, her hand holding her chin in thought.
“That’s just the thing,” You hissed, “He asked me to keep going. It was like he thought it was entertaining.”
Momo hummed. “Well,” She started, “Shouto has never liked parties like these so that may be true. I bet his manager made him throw this party.”
“Do you think he hates me?” You asked, worried for your life. You had made only one new connection during this party and it may as well have been a new enemy.
Momo chuckled lightly. “Todoroki has a short list of people he hates and you are nowhere near it. Don’t stress, Y/N-kun.”
“Either way,” You mumbled while standing up, “I think I should leave. I am not in the right mind to deal with something so embarrassing.”
“Are you sure?” Momo asked.
You sighed and nodded, “I’ll just call a taxi.”
“No need,” Momo stopped you. “My chauffeur can drop you off and come back later for me.”
And so, you walked out to wait for the small car to arrive. You gingerly sat while you were driven to your small apartment. When you got home, you immediately dawned on a much comfier outfit and washed your face free of the cakey makeup you had been wearing.
During this time, you ran over your interaction with Todoroki. Overall, you were sure he didn’t hate you. However, you were much too nervous to ever talk to him again. Not like you got his phone number anyways.
You got into bed and pulled your laptop to you to put on a comforting video. It was barely 10 pm, but you were ready for this night to be over.
As you let your mind run free of your concerns, you heard a small ding of your phone. You snatched it from the side of your bed, remembering you forgot to text Momo that you got home safe. However, when you clicked on the screen, and unfamiliar number flashed before your eyes.
Momo said you needed to leave early, which is a shame. I enjoyed our conversation tonight. Shall we pick it up over dinner? -Todoroki Shouto
#bnha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#mha#todoroki#todoroki shouto#todoroki x reader#todoroki shouto x reader#shouto x reader#momo#momo yaoyorozu
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You are the Sunlight, Shine on to Me
Luke and Ashton get the happy ending they deserve
I guess this is the last part of "Bloodied Up in a Bar Fight." At the very least, it's the sequel to part 3. I thought the boys deserved a soft ending, and I thought @lifewasradical deserved something nice and soft because she’s Amanda and I love her. So here you go babe, please enjoy!
On ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29341515
Luke’s sitting at his kitchen table, drinking his coffee and scrolling through his phone when Ashton comes downstairs. Usually, Ashton’s awake first, already gone for his morning run and come back, making breakfast and laughing when Luke stumbles down the stairs, squinting and confused. Today though, Luke woke up with the sun, wide eyed and happy. He’d sat outside on the deck chairs until it got too warm. He’s been sitting inside for a while, drinking his coffee and humming quietly, waiting for Ashton.
Ashton crosses the room, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Luke’s head. Luke preens, tilting his face up and earning a quick peck on the lips from Ashton.
“Morning sweetheart,” he says, smiling sleepily down at Luke. Luke grins back.
“Morning darling. Sleep well?” Luke asks, following Ashton into the kitchen.
“Always when you’re there,” Ashton says, banging around the kitchen looking for a pot and some bowls. Luke knows he’s trying to make oatmeal, an Ashton standard meal.
It’s been nice, relearning each other of the last few weeks. Luke’s happy he never worked up the courage to tell his mum or Michael and Calum about the breakup. He’s sure no one would have approved of them getting back together, of trying again. He’s sure they all guessed something was wrong, but neither Luke or Ashton have offered any explanation. Instead, they’ve taken the time to sit down and talk to each other. They’ve broken through whatever layers of insecurity and fear they’d had before. It’s been nice, having everything out in the open, feeling like they’re re-learning each other. It’s helped relieve whatever anxieties and fears they both have, the insecurities they clearly never talked about.
Instead, they’ve fallen into their old routines. They alternate whose house they spend their days at and they eat dinner together most nights and now Tuesdays and Fridays are date nights. Luke reads it for what it is, a compromise to be more open about their relationship in exchange for giving Ashton time to be comfortable coming out. Luke has enjoyed it, being able to go out with Ashton and hold his hand, steal kisses when he wants, without Ashton shying away.
“Are you going to help me or just stand there and look pretty?” Ashton teases, bumping his hip against Luke’s on his way to grab the oatmeal from the cabinet, fills the pot with it and some water. Luke laughs, snorting at the end of it.
“I don’t know. Maybe I want to fulfill my role as trophy boyfriend,” Luke says. He goes into the fridge, pulling out an apple, before going to the cabinet to grab some raisins and honey. Ashton dances around Luke, grabbing mugs and coffee to make some for himself, more for Luke.
It’s comfortable, standing in the kitchen, working around each other. Ashton keeps stirring the oatmeal, watching it and the coffee machine as it heats up. Luke slices up the apple, dicing it into smaller pieces to put into the oatmeal.
“Which did you pick?” Ashton asks, gesturing to the apple.
“Honeycrisp.”
“Should have picked red delicious.”
“You’re just lucky it wasn’t a green apple. You know those are my favorite.”
“Heathen. I can’t believe you enjoy anything that tart.”
“Well, get used to it. I’m going to let my apples infest the whole fridge if we ever live together. Get my sour gummies everywhere.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute and I love you,” Ashton says. Luke stops mid-cut, leaning over to press a kiss to Ashton’s cheek. He’s rewarded when Ashton turns his head, presses a kiss to Luke’s lips. Luke smiles, content with getting to be here with Ashton, that they’ve had the chance to try again, save their relationship. It’s terribly sappy, but Luke doesn’t think he could love anyone the way he loves Ashton, years of friendship blending into romantic love.
“Well I love you, even if you wake me up at the crack of dawn for walks,” Luke chimes.
“You and Petunia need fresh air and exercise,” Ashton chides. Luke rolls his eyes, dumping his knife into the sink now that the apples all cut up.
“Rude,” Luke teases
“Just telling you the truth. Walks are good.”
“After breakfast?”
“If you insist,” Ashton says. Luke giggles, grabbing their mugs and pouring out the coffee when it dings. He mixes the vanilla creamer into his coffee, taking a sip. Ashton grabs his own mug of black coffee, sipping it lightly.
Luke sighs, happy and content. He gets close to Ashton, dropping his head to his shoulder and nuzzling his cheek against the skin. He drops an arm around Ashton’s hip, squeezing lightly, watching as Ashton keeps stirring.
“I want to,” Ashton says, not taking his eyes off the oatmeal he’s stirring. Luke looks at Ashton in confusion.
“Want to what?”
“Come out. I keep thinking about our future and I don’t know what it could be like in 10 years. None of us know, but right now, getting to stand here and make breakfast, knowing we’re going to get to sit and have breakfast together, I don’t want to ever lose this. I don’t want to keep going home and leaving you. I want to wake up and know this is my home, our home. I’m not ready for marriage, but I’m ready for the first step. I don’t want to be without you again. You’re as much of my rock as I am yours.”
“Ashton,” Luke says, pulling back to look at him in shock and awe.
“Let me finish. I had a whole speech planned and if I don’t get it out now, I’m going to forget it all,” he says, looking at Luke. Luke nods, putting his mug down to grab onto Ashton’s arm, squeezing. Ashton smiles, turning down the heat to turn and face Luke.
“What else is there?”
“I want to move in with you and I know part of that entails telling the world about us. And I’m ready. You’re right, there is a fine line between privacy and hiding myself and you. I don’t want to hide our love. I don’t want to invite everyone into our personal lives, but I want to tell people. I want to hold your hand in interviews and talk about how you’re the worst morning person, but you make the best coffee. I want to be able to kiss you when we go on dates without worrying that some tabloid will leak our relationship everywhere. I want to just be with you. I want to love you openly and publicly. You’re my boyfriend, the love of my life. I almost lost you once. I don’t to be without ever again,” Ashton says, reaching out for Luke and taking his hand.
Luke’s tearing up, eyes watering as he feels them start to run down his cheeks. He locks his fingers with Ashton’s, looks down at their hands. He imagines what it would be like to wake up every day to Ashton, knowing that he’s never leaving. He allows himself to imagine what it would be like to openly talk about Ashton, post about him, show the world how much he loves Ashton. He allows himself to feel the warmth in his chest thinking about it, to picture their lives together.
“I want that too. I love you. I don’t want to ever stop loving you,” Luke whispers, nodding. Ashton beams, sunshine in his smile as his dimples show. Luke smiles back, uses his other hand to pull Ashton into a soft kiss.
“Breakfast is gonna burn,” Ashton mumbles. Luke huffs.
“Trust you to ruin an intimate moment being practical,” Luke teases. Ashton rolls his eyes, turning back to the pot, stirring the oatmeal before it starts to burn.
“First we eat, then we can talk about things,” he says. Luke nods, reaching over to squeeze Ashton’s shoulder, kiss his temple, feels the warmth in his chest at the suggestion of talking, of a conversation, of something more.
They double post their photos the next day, after they’ve had a chance to talk it over with Michael and Calum. They go back and forth about whether they need to tell their management or their team before Michael tells them to screw it and do what makes them happy. Ashton posts one of Luke in the light of the early morning, laughing and covering his face with his hand, holding his coffee mug in his other. It’s clear from the hickies on Luke’s neck, Ashton’s shirt that he’s wearing, what the photo is. Luke posts one of Ashton he’s had saved for a while, curled up in bed, covers pulled up enough that the only thing anyone can see is his curls and his eyes, Petunia pressed against his back as she sleeps away. The only caption either of them post is a little heart. It’s enough, the opening they need to letting the world know about them. In the months to come, they’ll post something more detailed, post photos about their relationship. They’ll talk about each other in interviews, listen to Michael and Calum tease them in public. They’ll build a life around the fine line between privacy and being open about who they are. But for now, sitting in the kitchen together, talking about what they both want, talking about being open, it’s enough.
#5 seconds of summer#lashton#luke hemmings#ashton irwin#the ending to bloodied up in a bar fight the boys deserve#soft morning fluff#domestic sweetness#theyre just having a good time in love#my writing
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Reading Session
Originally posted on ao3.
The book mentioned does exist, but it's really explicit, so beware.
To: @reahaelll Your wish is my command 💕
Nsfw, F!Mc
You grabbed your book and headed to Satan's room. You agreed to a reading session as he confessed he would like to know more about human world authors and well, more about your taste in literature. Because the purpose is to learn new information, he specifically asked of you not to bring any classics, because chances are he already knows their work. You complied and brought something more unheard of, more controversial. You picked Juliette by Marquis de Sade. Hopefully the book was dark enough for the Avatar of Wrath.
With the book in hand you knocked on his door. After a few moments it opened and you were greeted with a familiar smile.
"Ah, there you are! Glad you could make it in time.", the blond demon invited you into his layer.
You realized he had made tea for the both of you. If you didn't know better you wouldn't be able to tell he was, in fact, the embodiment of Wrath.
You sat yourself on the bed followed by Satan. His legs were spread and you sat between them, your back pressed against his chest, while his chin rested on the top of your head.
"What are we reading today, y/n?", he cheerfully asked.
"I picked Juliette for today!", you showed him the cover of the book.
Once he saw the cover and read the author, he giggled a bit. But before you got the chance to ask why, he added:
"Well, we shouldn't waste time. Let's get to reading!"
You obeyed and opened the book. Your reading sessions consisted in one of you reading aloud from a book. It was usually you because Satan liked to hear your voice. So far you have discovered his favourite demon authors and you brought some books from the human world of which he had never heard before.
Within the first pages of the book you already found yourself reading sex scenes. You had an idea what this book was about, but you didn't necessarily know it was going to be all sex and sin. The sex scenes happened between so called nuns which made everything even more sinful. You brushed it off, in your head, thinking it was the right book to read to a demon.
If you were on your own, it wouldn't have affected you so badly, but being into the demon's arms, feeling his chest move as he breathe while having to read aloud lesbian sex scenes between "women of God" made you feel hot and bothered.
You took a small break to drink a bit of the tea Satan prepared for you. Your throat was getting dry. Also, you needed to stop for a second and get your act together.
"I didn't know you are into this, y/n", his voice was lower than usual and his tone more seductive, "You should've told me sooner, we could've had a lot of fun.", he pulled you into a tight embrace.
"I-it's just a book...", you stuttered sounding unconvincing.
"Do you know what the Marquis de Sade is famous for?", he genuinely asked.
You shook your head, unaware.
"The term 'sadism' comes from his name.", he giggled but it sounded quite dark, "Great choice there, y/n, reading a book from the father of sadism to the Avatar of Wrath. What are you hoping to achieve?"
"Look, Satan, I d-didn't mean t-to..."
He grabbed your throat gently, turned your head to the side and upwards, so you faced him. His eyes were gleaming, but it sent shivers downs your spine. His sweet smile meant nothing but the fact that he was holding in the rage that could turn the world upside down.
"You want to tell me that you brought in a book without even knowing anything about it? How are you supposed to learn if you don't inform yourself?"
"I-I'm sorry..."
"No need to apologise", he let go of your throat and flashed you a radiant smile, "Let's just get back to reading!"
You sigh in relief and go back to reading the obscenities illustrated in the book. Soon enough you felt a pair of warm hands caressing your body. You stopped reading and gasped in surprise. The demon lifted your top and exposed your lacy f/c bra.
"Keep going, y/n.", he whispered into your ear and he rubbed circles around the visible parts of your chest.
You obeyed, not wanting to make the demon angry. Well, angrier than usual. Stuttering and gasping from time to time, you continued to read. Your core started to tingle and you felt your panties getting soaked under your skirt.
"My, my, what am I going to do with you? I asked you here so we could both delve into a deeper understanding of the world, but instead you leave my thirst for knowledge unsatisfied... It pains me to say this, but y/n, you have to be punished.", his voice echoed into your mind long after he finished saying those words.
You zoned out for a moment and found yourself bent over Satan's knees with your skirt lifted and your butt out in the open. He started touching you gently, caressing you, kissing the small of your back and when you relaxed and got comfortable enough...he spanked you. A moment of break. No touch at all. And than another spank. He trailed his fingers down your spine, gently and then he spanked you again.
Although he only did it three times, taking into account his -although controlled- inhuman strength, it was enough to make your bottom red. You felt his hand move and you flinched out of instinct, but his hand made no contact with your skin. Instead, you heard laughter.
"You're just so easy to play with, y/n. It's almost impossible to resist..."
"It's not like that..."
He stopped for a moment. The silence was uncomfortable and you laid there, on his knees, awaiting his next move.
"You're right. How rude of me. You came here to read and reading is what you shall do."
With a swift motion he took off your underwear and helped you up.
"What do you think you're doing!?", you asked shocked.
"You ask too many questions, princess~"
The sound of his voice calling you princess made you melt and go on with whatever Satan had in plan for you. It was completely and utterly irresistible.
He tapped on the bed signing you to sit down. When you did, he handed you the book and ordered you to read. When you started doing so, the blond demon spread your legs and began tasting your dripping wet core.
"I can't fucking r-read like t-this, Satan...", you whined.
Like he couldn't even hear you, he kept going, giving you agonizingly slow and long licks, followed by him sucking on your sensitive spot. However, he made sure to get his point across by digging his fingernails into your thighs ever so slightly. The pain felt so good it made you moan in the middle of reading a sentence. That was the moment when he finally stopped.
"I truly refuse to believe that the line went like that", he smirked, "You're more pathetic than I thought. Can't read a book to save your life... Oh well, I guess I can still put that mouth to good use."
He climbed on top of you, took the book from your hands and placed it gently next to the bed. After that, his whole focus was on you, kissing you passionately, tangling his fingers through your hair. At some point he broke off the kiss, unzipped his pants and came closer to you. His member was centimeters away from your mouth.
"Open your mouth.", he ordered and you executed.
In an instant his lengthy thick cock was shoved into your mouth. Slowly, at the beginning, but his pace became faster and rougher and soon enough he was grabbing a fistful of your hair as he was skullfucking you into oblivion. You had tears falling down your cheeks and saliva was dripping down your chin onto your neck. Eventually, he stopped and pulled away, letting you finally catch your breath.
"You're a good toy, y/n, I'll give you that.", he said in an almost mocking tone.
He backed away and stood on the bed on his knees before grabbing your hips and pulling you closer. He lifted you up until your hole was on the same level as his member. He eased into you, holding your thighs so you don't fall.
As he moved faster, his nails dug into your skin, making you scream. You wished to keep quiet, but you couldn't contain yourself. It was all too much. Craving release, you reached out and started rubbing your swollen nub and Satan continued to talk dirty to you.
"Such a desperate needy little slut... I asked you here to read, but now it's clear that you were thirsting for something else..."
He continued to mock you as his nails were still into your skin and his cock was continuously hitting deep and hard into you. The stimulation from the penetration and your own attempt at finding release got you into a critical point.
"Satan, I'm gonna..."
"Beg, princess~"
Your eyes widened, but you swallowed your pride and added:
"I'm begging you, ah fuck, please... Ugh, please, Satan, let me cum!"
He giggled, but told you that you're allowed and quite frankly, that's all you needed to hear. The moment you heard his words of approval, your hand moved faster, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your moans got louder and your legs started shaking. Even for a demon, it was a bit of a struggle to keep your legs in place.
Soon after, Satan pulled out of you, letting you sink into the mattress as he rubbed his cock above your tummy. In a few moments his semen coated your abdomen. Following his own climax, the demon crashed next to you on the bed and kissed your forehead.
"Bring this book for our next reading session as well, won't you?", he smirked.
#satan obey me#obey me! shall we date?#shall we date satan#shall we date#one master to rule them all#smutty#the smuttier the better#smut
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The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 23
A 12xRose Human AU
Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle. It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes. With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.
All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.
Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays. Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma
Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut
@doctorroseprompts
AO3 | Masterlist
—
Monday, cont’d
Peeking over the top of her book, Rose took advantage of the opportunity to watch Malcolm. They were in the library after dinner, as they had been essentially every night since she moved into the townhouse, though this was the first time they were positioned as they were. While Malcolm was seated normally, leaning forward with his elbow on his knee as he read over paperwork, Rose was stretched out, her back against the arm of the couch and her feet in Malcolm’s lap. His left hand was idly rubbing at the arch of one foot, doing little but fanning the flames of desire inside her.
His hair rumpled, jacket long abandoned, glasses perched firmly on his nose, he looked… delectable. It was nearly impossible to concentrate on her book when he was so close, looking as he did, and she entertained the idea of seducing him then and there, of climbing into his lap and having her wicked way with him with only the books as witness.
“You’re staring,” he noted absently, and she flushed.
“What’cha doing?”
Momentarily abandoning his half-hearted foot massage, he pulled his glasses off with one hand, rubbing his eyes and face with the other before replacing the specs. “Going over the books, making sure we’re in as good a standing as Jack says. Not that I don’t trust him, but… as I like to say, trust but verify. I want to make sure he’s not hiding problems.”
“Found any?”
“No.” Leaning back into the welcoming embrace of the comfortable sofa, he smiled at her. “Well, other than he lets his boyfriend buy expensive ingredients for feeding the household. It’s not the end of the world, but it does need to be cut back. I don’t eat this well.”
She nodded, bracing her head on her hand, elbow on the back of the couch. “You can’t fault him for wanting to spoil a loved one.”
“Yeah, but not sure I should be paying the bill,” he said dryly. “Then again, he’s taking less of a salary than I expected; I’m fairly sure he was approved for more, not that Wally would really say no to a reasonable request. Honestly, that’s what concerns me- that there’s a hidden money pit, and he’s docking his pay to hide it.”
Rose rubbed his thigh with the ball of her foot to offer comfort, making him look down at his lap for the first time. “Sorry, do you want me to-”
“You’re fine,” he cut her off, one hand settling on top of both feet, long fingers spreading out to cover them. “Really.”
“Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.” She wriggled her toes, admiring how the crimson paint on the nails flashed in the lighting.
He watched the movement as if hypnotized, and after a long moment, he looked up and cleared his throat. “It’s getting late. Do you… do you want to go to bed?”
The question was more tentative than she expected, but then the proverbial other shoe dropped, and heat flashed through her. “Yes,” she said quite a bit more enthusiastically than she’d intended, but decided not to be embarrassed. “Shall we?”
Malcolm all but leapt to his feet, haphazardly gathering up his paperwork. “Let’s go.”
-
Once in the bedroom she let him use the loo first, which meant he had plenty of time to sit in bed and agonize over what might be about to happen while she went through her nightly routine. Did she understand what I meant? Did I even mean that? Do I initiate? Will she? Does she expect me to make the first move, since she did on Saturday? Would she rather get things started, maintain a sense of control? How fucking long does it take to change?
The door finally opened then, after a wait that seemed to take several lifetimes though the clock said it was less than ten minutes, and she stepped out- in a dressing gown.
“Today was a good day, wasn’t it?” she asked brightly, turning lights out as she made her way across the room to him. By the time she reached the bed only his bedside light was still on, and he watched in tense anticipation as she removed the dressing gown to reveal- a cotton nightgown.
He had no idea what that meant.
It fit her like a glove, hugging mouth-watering curves and hiding nothing, but… it was still a cotton nightgown in a soft shade of blue, sexy because of the woman who wore it was, not for any inherent reason of its own.
“Malcolm?”
“Huh?” His head jerked up to meet her eye, tearing his gaze away from how the fabric clung to her breasts. “Yeah, today was good. Sorry about… the horse thing. Are you okay?” Good job, remind her of her fear. Moron.
She settled beneath the covers with a sigh, rolling onto her side and smiling at him. “Thank you. It’s fine, I didn’t know I would react like that. I’m sorry I made a scene, but thank you for being so… kind about it.”
“And the ride back was okay?” He matched her position, close enough only scant inches separated their noses, breathing the same air. With the bed curtains drawn they were truly in their own world, safe from outside threats or interruptions. It gave the moment a sense of intimacy and possibility, and he desperately hoped it ended well, if not the way he truly wanted.
A slow smile spread across her face, one that sent heat racing through him- he’d only seen it once before, and it was right after she invited him into her bedroom. That smile had led to what was, with no exaggeration, the best night of his life. “Mhmm, it was wonderful,” she murmured, one hand reaching out to settle on his chest, warmth radiating from her palm through his thin tee-shirt. “I felt so safe and lo- comfortable with you. Being held in your arms. It was…” Her eyes flickered down, breaking their connection, cheeks flushing. “It was wonderful.”
“Well, maybe we can try it again,” he whispered back, “go out riding together. Just us.”
Rose bit her lip, and he ached to free it, to hold it safe between his own lips, to shower her in kisses and love. Her gaze met his again, searching, and she must have found what she was looking for, because her eyes brightened. “Well, actually, I had a thought,” she offered, and when his gaze ran over her, he noted with interest that the flush had started to work its way down her neck and chest.
“I’m all ears. Anything I can do to help make you more comfortable.” He tentatively set his open palm on her hip before sliding it to her back, tugging her slightly closer, hoping it was alright.
“I’m glad you said that,” she breathed, moving forward eagerly. “Because I was thinking about one thing that you said…”
“Yes?” Her face was right there, and unable to resist temptation, he began to rain kisses over her forehead, nose, and cheeks, thrilled when she didn’t resist, instead leaned into his lips.
“You told me to sit up straight and stay centered.”
Malcolm paused his ministrations, fighting back a disappointed sigh at having thoroughly misread the situation. For all the times you thought she was going to make a move, she only did once, he lectured himself. Stop assuming it would become the new rule, instead of remaining an exception. “I did.”
“Well, I think it would help if I… if I practiced.” Her face was now fully red, burning with heat, and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why she might be embarrassed at such an idea.
“They say practice makes perfect.”
She nodded eagerly, fingers curling into his shirt. “Exactly. That, erm, you could maybe give me tips on… on posture. And motion. Make sure I was… riding properly.”
“Of course.” His brow furrowed. Does she really think I’d say no? “When?”
“How’s now?”
He was surely missing something, but didn’t have the slightest idea what. “Oh… kay?”
That coy smile was back, and she unceremoniously shoved at his chest. Surprised, he fell onto his back, only to be utterly flabbergasted when she scrambled over him, straddling his hips. “Now, be sure to tell me if I’m doing anything wrong,” she instructed.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. She’s gonna kill me. “Right, well-” None too pleased with being used as a horse, he scowled up at her, opening his mouth to give her a piece of his mind when without any warning she crossed her arms, gripped her nightgown, and pulled the fabric over her head, leaving her astride him fully naked.
“Oh. Oh.” He felt like a fool, as though he’d been clobbered on the head, and her smile fell for a moment.
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, I thought-” She scrambled behind her for the nightgown, one arm folding across her breasts, but he was faster, sitting up carefully without dislodging her.
“No, no, no,” he eased the fabric from her fingers, tossing it away before pulling his own tee off one-handed, the other wrapping around her waist. “I assure you, I am happy to help. I must warn you though, you can’t learn everything in one- session. It might require several.”
Lips curling up, her tongue peeked out between her teeth. “Oh, I can take as many lessons as necessary. At least, as many as you can give.”
“Oh, challenge accepted,” he murmured, hands sliding up her waist to infinitely more delightful areas. “I’ll give as many as you can take.”
In the end, he impressed them both.
-
Tuesday
It was late the next morning before they could drag themselves out of bed, and even then he couldn’t bear to be far from her, leaning in the doorway of the bathroom and watching as she put on her makeup- in her knickers and bra. If I’ve died and this is heaven, please, no one tell me.
“Malcolm?” Her laughing tone said it wasn’t the first time she’d called him, and he tore his eyes away from her bum to meet her eye in the mirror.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“What are we doing today?” She leaned forward slightly, which pushed her bum out, and he itched to run his hands over it, fantasized about- “Babe!”
Straightening and clearing his throat, he entered to sit on the toilet seat lid, tucking his hands under his thighs to prevent them from wandering. “Right. Today. I thought we could go into town, walk the high street, have lunch. Give you a taste of Scotland that’s not just from the Estate.” His intention in moving closer had been to change his view, lessen the distraction of her pert posterior, but hadn’t realized that just gave him a new, more tantalizing view of her breasts filling out the lace bra she wore. “Or we could just stay in bed.”
“Not a chance.” She applied lipstick, rubbing her lips together and pouting for the mirror. “Not after all this time spent putting on makeup. Besides, we should make an appearance- not sure I want everyone in the house to know what we’ve been up to in here.”
He shifted on his perch, positively aching to hold her. “Who cares what they think? We are on our honeymoon. In fact, it would look odd if we never did.”
Turning her head she smiled at him, though she still looked amused. “Maybe tomorrow. Today, a day out exploring sounds wonderful. What’s the name of the town?”
“Village.”
“What?”
“It’s a village,” he repeated. “Bonar bridge.”
She grinned wider. “That sounds adorable. Can’t wait.” Pausing to lean down and kiss him, she padded out of the bathroom, hips swinging. “Let me just get dressed, and we can go.”
He followed her out, a moth to her bright flame, and cornered her by the open armoire, wrapping his arms around her waist and molding himself to her back. “Sure I can’t tempt you back to bed?” he murmured, laying kisses on her neck in a spot he now knew was sensitive. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
She arched into him, grinding her bum against him and tilting her head to the side to give him better access. “I believe it, but no. Let’s get some fresh air, walk around a bit, have something to eat. You can ravish me after we get back.”
“Promise?” He sucked at the soft skin, laving the spot with his tongue.
“Promise,” she gasped, clutching at his arms. “Anywhere you like. Any way you like.”
With one last kiss to her neck he backed away, making her whimper. “Deal. Now hurry the fuck up, so we can go and come back already.”
He already had a few ideas of how to make good on her promise, each more tantalizing than the next.
We’ve got the rest of our lives to fulfill them all. The only question is- where do we start?
#bbatcfic#ficandchips#Doctor Who#doctorroseprompts#Human!12xRose#Human!Twelfth Doctor#Rose Tyler#Human AU#AU#The Nuptial Necessity
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take me home
5/?
~ new years
read on ao3
“What the fuck is Jake Peralta doing in our house?”
Amy had dragged her two oldest brothers into the kitchen, her thoughts moving a million miles a second. Whichever of her brothers invited her ex-boyfriend to their family New Year party was going to pay. She reminded her brothers that her new boyfriend was coming, to warn them not to embarrass her - they somehow exceeded that far beyond her expectations.
“He was telling me on the phone that his mom was going on a cruise and he was going to be all alone, Amy.” Her oldest brother Luis breaks free from her grasp, leaning on the bench behind him. “Come on, you see Jake at work every day you can’t be that mad at me.”
"I am mad!" Amy hisses, being at work and being at their parents’ house was different. "My ex boyfriend AND my current boyfriend are in that room with OUR parents!"
"Okay, but how we hang out with him and you focus on Teddy!" Tony offers, "I promise this will be the best New Years of your life! There's no need to start braiding your hair!"
"This better not bite me in the ass." Amy growls again, shooing them out of the kitchen to give herself a moment to breathe.
"Better not bite me in the ass title of your sex tape..." Amy lets out a breathy laugh at her ex-boyfriends joke. "I'm sorry if them inviting me upset you.”
Jake walks closer to her, and she thinks this might be the closest they’ve been since they broke up almost a year ago. “No it’s fine, you don’t want to be alone on New Years - it sucks.”
Amy remembers infinite other New Years she spent alone; with her family but then leaving soon after midnight and going to bed alone. The memory of the previous countdown to midnight struggles to stay in the back of her mind. Jake laughing and joking with her brothers, making a good impression with her parents and most importantly he spent the night showering Amy with love. They left early that night, but Amy wasn’t alone.
“I was told that you approved of me coming.” Jake shifts awkwardly on his feet, “I honestly wouldn’t have come if i knew Tod wasn’t coming or if you didn’t want me here or whatever.”
“It’s Teddy…” Amy corrects softly.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be here.” Jake looks like the embodiment of discomfort, so much that he struggles to maintain eye contact. “I’m sorry, Amy.”
He begins to turn away from her, but a moment later her brain clicks into gear and she’s holding him by the wrist. “Stay. I don’t want you to be alone.”
Jake stares down at her hand, the energy in the room changing rapidly to an intensity she remembers from what feels like a millenia ago. His jaw begins to clench when he finally looks up at her, and her chest only tightens.
“Hey Amyyyy!” Her obviously drunk younger brother is yelling from the other room, “Can you bring me the mayonnaise? I need change Teddy’s universe!”
Amy drops her hand from his wrist, rushing to the cupboard to get what her brother needed. “You can leave if you want, but I would like it a lot more if you stayed.”
~
Jake does stay. He stays out of Amy and Teddy’s way, that’s what he does. Luis and Tony, his favourite of Amy’s brothers, feed him beer after beer. Even though they’d both told Jake repeatedly that he should be with Amy, they do their best to distract him from how happy she looks with Teddy.
He remembers to clearly, no matter how drunk he is, when Amy first told him about Teddy. Kylie had introduced them at trivia night and they apparently hit it off. One date turned into four, then they updated their dumb Facebook status and they were together. Jake tried to hide his bitterness, but when he was alone and he wouldn’t be able to sleep for the third consecutive hour, he couldn’t help but scroll to months earlier when they had posted about their relationship.
Charles Boyle: IT FINALLY HAPPENED!!!!!! I TOLD YOU DIDNT I?????
Terry Jeffords: Happy for you both!
Gina Linetti: Yay no more nerd tension just cutesy nerd crap. Also Rosa says dope.
Karen Peralta: I always thought you liked her! I’m very happy to see you two together x
Where it all went wrong is something Jake struggles to define. Maybe it was his inability to have an emotional conversation without saying noice or smort. Jake couldn’t blame her; he was a mess and she was Amy.
The alcohol in his system made it easier to bear when the clock strikes midnight and everyone is cheering HAPPY NEW YEAR, especially when he sees Teddy kiss Amy. They decided together that it was a good idea to break up, he can’t be upset that she moved on. Jake doesn’t expect what comes next; Teddy gathering her entire family around him and Amy, before slowly sinking to one knee.
Jake feels light headed watching it unfold, and the jealousy goes from a light simmer to boiling violently inside of him. He was not at his ex-girlfriends parents’ house watching her new boyfriend propose to him as in the first minutes of the New Year.
“Amy, I love you so much.” Teddy pulls out the ring from his pocket, taking a deep breath before he continues. “I know we’ve only been together for seven months but I’ve never been happier than I am when I’m with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I know we haven’t talked about this but I was wondering… Will you marry me?”
Amy is frozen in place; the moment Teddy had pulled out the ring he had been watching her and the shock plastered on her face was solid. His heart shatters into a million pieces once she finally lifts her head to meet his gaze. Now he can see the tears swimming in her eyes, the light of the campfire making it all the more obvious.
What was she thinking?
“No.” Amy breathes out, ripping her gaze from Jake and looking at Teddy’s falling face. “I- Teddy, I’m sorry… I-I can’t.”
~
“Do you want to get married one day?” Amy’s question is sudden, and certainly not what Jake expects when they’re hanging out on the couch eating Chinese.
“Ames, are you proposing?” Jake does his usual deflecting, trying to rid himself of emotional talk with humour. “Usually a girl would get down on one knee to do this.”
“No, dumbass.” Amy rolls her eyes, hiding a smile. “I’m not trying to pressure you or anything. I was just wondering if you’ve ever thought of it.”
“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Jake shrugs, his heart beating out of his chest as he looks directly at her, “I want to get married one day.”
~
Amy sprints back into the house as soon as she gets the words out. What the hell was Teddy thinking?
Proposing to her. In front of her whole family. On New Years. After seven months of dating. The worst part was her ex-boyfriend standing behind her brothers, looking devastated like nothing else could go right in the world.
She manages to get into her bedroom without fainting from the lack of air in her lungs. What a start to the year. Her head buried in her pillow, she can’t get Jake’s face out of her head. Why did they break up? The feelings she had for him had remained buried since she met Teddy and her relationship with Teddy was fine.
Amy knew Jake’s feelings were just as strong, hence his unabashed heartbreak and she’s never been more confused about anything. Did they make a mistake? Wasting the last eight months being just colleagues?
She expects that maybe her dad, or one of her older brothers, would come to talk her out of her spiral. Teddy was even possible. But when Jake walks through the door, she couldn’t be more relieved. Despite their entire relationship and fall out of said relationship; they were still partners, still each others confidants.
“Hi.” Amy wipes her nose with the back of her hand, her eyes wandering around the room before landing on him again.
“Do you wanna talk about it or do you need some classic Jake Peralta defecting humour?” Jake sits next to her laid out form, watching as she giggles weakly and sits up.
Amy struggles to find the words to explain her precise feelings on the matter, but with another deep breath and a groan, she rests her head on Jake’s shoulder. “What the fuck is 2020 so far?”
“Welcome to the 20’s, darlin’.” Jake imitates, and it makes Amy genuinely cackle. “A new decade, huh?”
“I don’t think I love Teddy.” Amy blurts out, “Not as much-”
She shakes her head, and Jake seems even more attentive. “Ames…”
“What are we doing?” Amy huffs, “What were we thinking when we broke up? I loved you and I know you maybe loved me but we just fucked up. Tonight is making it more clear, ugh, you know this is the first time we’ve been together without the squad being there to buffer?”
“I know…” Jake is looking at his hands now, “I did love you. I’m sorry I could never share my emotions good.”
“I’m sorry too.”
“What are you gonna say to Teddy?” Jake asks gently.
“I can’t marry him - can’t be with him - not when…” Amy slides her hand over his twisted hands, “Not when I still love you.”
“We’re dumb.” Jake snorts, “We really- I love you too.”
Amy moves her hand to his jaw, turning his face so she can kiss him for the first time in eight months. They were in a decade but if felt like the past months hadn’t happened and they never broke up. Teddy wasn’t downstairs waiting for her to come down with her reasoning for rejecting him - for which she had a large list she had begun writing a few days earlier, starting with his uninteresting personality.
Jake’s fingers were tangled in her hair as he tried to deepen the kiss, but Amy turns her head so that he’s kissing her jaw. “Say it again.”
His smile grows as he leans back enough that their foreheads touch, “I love you.”
“Wanna hear my 2020 resolution?” Jake nods, and her heart explodes with warmth at the look he had been holding back since they broke up. “It’s to not fuck this up again.”
“Oh my god, samesies.” Jake replies dramatically, and Amy can’t hold back the barking laughter.
“Okay, and 2020 is also the time to get rid of the word samesies.”
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Side to Side (Sugar Daddy!Gabriel Reyes x Reader)
Can also be found on my AO3 >>> here.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
It’s the end of April and I’m talking about Christmas, but it’s because I kinda wish it was Christmas. Also, if it sounds vaguely like I’m venting my personal problems through reader, well, it’s because I am. Regardless, I hope everyone enjoys! -Valk
P.S. I promise there will be smut. Soon.
Edit: also if you guys want me to start tagging you when I post this series, leave a comment in the notes <3 -Valk
The first gift Gabriel got you was a Tiffany necklace.
He had Jessie slip it into your bag before you flew back the next day with a note attached to the familiar blue box—
An early Christmas present.
I’m going to Aspen for New Years—it’s not required, but you’re welcome to join me if you want to get away from your parents. Feel free to bring your cat with you. Otherwise, I’ll see you next year. -GR
You didn’t notice it until you were unpacking, shooing Mira off of your clothes so you could throw them in the washing machine, hanging the dress you had worn to dinner up in your closet and putting your new heels by the door, eyeing them with a smile. Once you had transferred some of your things to your suitcase and packed extra clothes to take home, you picked the small box up, slipping the ribbon tied around it off and opening it. Inside, a silver, heart-shaped pendant with “Please return to Tiffany and Co. New York” inscribed on the front and a small key sat on a silver chain and you pulled it out gently, letting it dangle and examining it before clasping it behind your neck. You took a picture and sent it to Gabe with a plethora of hearts.
New Years? -GR
Right. You gave the city a quick search, being met with pictures of snowy mountain sides and expensive houses.
I’ve never been to Aspen. Looks… cold. -Y/N
It’s not too bad when you have someone to cuddle with ;) -GR
You snorted, rolling your eyes, thumb hovering over the screen. It was cheesy, but it made you smile.
Alright you’ve convinced me. See you on New Years? -Y/N
Can’t wait. -GR
With that, you set about your room to finish packing, taking the rest of the day to rest and edit a few photos you had been meaning to get to for a while—personal photos of a few of your friends walking through the fresh autumn leaves earlier that year when they had visited. You had forgotten about them, finding them again when you were sifting through old folders looking for family Christmas pictures that your mother needed for the Christmas cards this year.
The last few made you laugh as you scrolled through them, cuddling a cup of tea to your chest, smiling when you got to a picture of Lena—a short, brown haired girl with amber eyes that you had run track and become best friends with in high school—with a leaf smacking her in the face, Lena’s girlfriend Emily laughing at her in the background. You had snapped the picture at just the right moment, having meant to send it to her after you had uploaded them to your laptop back in September, but forgetting once you got swamped with homework and essays. She had gone to flight school to become a pilot instead of going to college like you—you hadn’t talked to her in a few weeks, deciding to restart the conversation by sending her a screenshot of the photo.
Alternatively, the next photo was of Brigitte—your other best friend who had gone to college in a neighboring state to study engineering—diving into a pile of leaves in the center of campus, her freckled pace popping out of the pile in the next photo, a leaf sticking to her nose. It made you snort and you sent that one to her, too. She visited every few weeks, so you saw her more often than Lena, and she was normally the only reason you ever went out, but you missed her all the same. The friends you had made here just weren’t the same as the two of them.
Within a few minutes, they were both requesting to chat and you accepted their video call requests, smiling when they both appeared on your screen.
“Hi you two,” you greeted them, nearly spitting out your tea when they both yelled excited greeting at you.
“I honestly thought you died I hadn’t heard from you in so long,” Lena snorted, adjusting the camera to better enclose her face. “Finals that bad, huh?”
“It’s certainly been a wild week,” you replied with a shrug, turning your head towards Brigitte. “How was it for you?”
“I’ve been running on coffee for almost 48 hours—you know how it is,” she replied, brushing her ginger hair out of her face. “My last final is tomorrow. I’m jealous you get to go home already.”
“Are both of you coming home?”
“I’m flying in bright and early Tuesday morning,” Lena replied, giving you a thumbs up. “I’m going to lunch with Emily, but after that I’m free.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow night,” Brigitte affirmed. “Half dead and ready to crawl into bed, but alive nonetheless.”
“Tuesday night it is then—we can get drinks. I have something to te-,” but Brigitte interrupted you, leaning in closer to her screen as if that would help her see you any clearer.
“That necklace… I know I wouldn’t be able to afford it, meaning you can’t either,” Brigitte said eyeing you suspiciously—just as observant as ever. “Where’d it come from?”
“Oh don’t tell me-,” but you interrupted Lena just as she got excited, your hand flying up to idly run a finger over the pendant, a blush highlighting your cheeks. You didn’t know how to explain it to them—knowing it would probably be easier if you did it in person.
“It’s only… kind of what you think. That’s why I want to see you both.”
They both affirmed your request, settling on a meeting place and time Tuesday night before the conversation drifted to the photos you had sent them among other things. Eventually, you found yourself drifting, reminding them of your plans before signing off, falling asleep with a smile on your face for the first time in a while. You didn’t know how they would take it, but they were your best friends, so you hoped they wouldn’t think any less of you.
You got up a bit earlier than usual the next morning, putting your suitcase and Mira’s carrier with her in it into the backseat before heading home. It was a bit of a drive, but you were there by mid-afternoon, unloading your things and greeting your family. You spent the next day and a half with them, helping your mother decorate the tree and wrap last minute presents, laughing as you watched Mira play among the excess wrapping paper.
You pulled your camera out, taking photos of her as she rolled around like a kitten before moving to take pictures of your mother cooking, snapping a few before she noticed and shooed you away. They may not have approved of you being a photography major, but you were damn good at it. It was also the first time in a long time that you actually enjoyed taking photos again—as if a weight had been lifted off of your chest. You could quit your job—not have to worry about bills and tuition and you could stop taking photos of things you weren’t particularly interested in and finally focus on what you wanted to. You knew you had Reyes to thank, your hand falling to the necklace under your t-shirt, a small smile gracing your lips.
The next night, you met up with Lena and Brigitte, hugging them both tightly outside of the bar you three had chosen. Brigitte had been working out and you complimented her on her physique; Lena hadn’t changed much and was as chipper as ever, dragging you inside and ordering wine for the three of you once you found a table.
“Alright—spill it. We want to know,” Brigitte started, scooting her chair closer to you and leaning in. Lena did the same and you looked between them for a moment before letting out a small sigh.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us you found someone,” Lena chastised you, looking up at you with sad brown eyes, pouting.
“It’s not like… that. Not quite, anyway,” you replied sheepishly, taking a deep drink from your glass, realizing more alcohol may make this easier to get through.
“I mean if they’re buying you things it has to be pretty serious, right,” Brigitte asked, tilting her head to the side curiously. “How long have you been together?”
“Four days,” you deadpanned, laughing and nearly spitting out your wine when they both went wide eyed, confusion evident on their faces. “I may have found myself a sugar daddy. But like… a real one—not like a ‘still in business school’ banking executive wannabe.”
“You’re kidding,” Lena murmured, her face unreadable for a moment. Then, a smile broke out on her face she started giggling, looking at Brigitte before turning back to you. “I didn’t take you for one to be into older men, but whatever you floats your boat, love.”
“As long as he takes care of you,” Brigitte affirmed with a nod. “I will say this is the least stressed I’ve ever seen you. Have you met him—like in person?”
You nodded, sitting back in your chair and relaxing a bit, mentally scolding yourself for ever thinking they would have anything other than your best interests at heart. You quickly explained everything that had happened thus far, ordering another round of glasses for the three of you.
“Do your parents know,” Lena asked, knowing it would be just another point of contention between you and your parents.
“No—no one does except you two,” you replied with a shake of your head. “And I need it to stay that way. He’s flying me out to Colorado to spend time with him over New Years and I have no idea what I’m gonna tell my parents.”
“Tell them I invited you to a party on campus because I didn’t want to go alone,” Brigitte offered nonchalantly, sipping at her drink.
“Or tell them I asked you to take pictures at a New Years party I’m hosting,” Lena suggested. “I’ll vouch for you.”
You smiled at them both, forcing down the tears that threatened to spill over, glad you had friends like them to cover and support you.
“Either works. Thank you both.”
You spent the rest of the night talking and laughing with them, even drunkenly singing a few karaoke songs on the stage together, realizing just how much you missed being around them. You finally stumble into your house around 1 am, picking up Mira and carrying her upstairs to your bedroom, texting both Lena and Brigitte to tell them you made it home safely before curling up in bed.
Christmas came and went as it always did—you found little had changed at home, which meant your patience with your parents wore thin after spending just a week at home, becoming tired of their passive aggressive remarks regarding your school work and your social life. When you told them you wouldn’t be home for New Years because you were going to a party, they both looked you, seemingly surprised.
“Going out for once? That’s a nice change,” your mother commented. “Did you finally makes some friends other than Lena and Brigitte? And your roommate doesn’t count.”
“Brigitte goes to a good school. Maybe you’ll find someone better than that deadbeat you dated in high school,” your dad chimed in, making you bite your tongue before you said something stupid. “Oh I meant to ask—how’d your exams go?”
“Fine—as usual,” you replied quietly, trying to keep a scowl off of your face.
“We expected as much—arts classes can’t be that hard,” your mother retorted. “It’s not too late to change your major, you know.”
To something more useful you could hear her thinking. It made you roll your eyes and you didn’t bother replying with anything other than confirmation that you were going with Brigitte and that you were leaving tomorrow. Gabe had actually scheduled your flight for New Years Eve, 2 days from now, but you texted him a few minutes later, asking if he could move it because you couldn’t stand being in your house anymore.
Done. Everything okay? -GR
Parents. I’ll tell you about it when I get there. Can’t wait to see you <3 -Y/N
You relayed which story you chose to Lena and Brigitte in case your parents asked, packing everything in advance that night, leaving before they woke up the next morning, even if it meant you had to sit for an extra hour at the airport. You boarded a smaller plane this time, tucking Mira’s carrier under your seat and settling back. You found that sleep was a little more difficult to find this time—the flight was turbulent and Mira was not pleased. You wanted to pull her out and cuddle her, but you were sure that was looked down upon, so you murmured to her sweetly to comfort her until she fell asleep. Once you landed, you toddled off the plane, vaguely quesy, relieved to be met with bone-chilling air once you stepped outside.
There was more snow on the ground than you had seen in your entire life and more was slowly falling. You shuffled into the small airport to grab your bags, met at the entrance by McCree and Shimada, the cowboy tipping his hat to you.
“Lookin’ a little green around the gills there, darlin’,” Jesse laughed, taking Mira from you as Genji grabbed your bag.
“You could say that,” you replied, brow furrowed. “Evidently I don’t deal very well with turbulence. Neither does she.”
“That’s alright. I don’t either,” McCree replied, opening the back door for you to get in, reaching around to the front seat to grab something, presenting you with a heavy peacoat. “From Reyes—it’s cold and it’s only gonna get colder, so bundle up.” You nodded, taking it gratefully and slipping it on.
Much to your surprise, the drive to the house was no more than 10 minutes from the airport. You looked out the window, watching in astonishment as you passed both houses and snow drifts bigger than you had ever seen before in your life. Turning onto a small street with a cul-de-sac, Jesse pulled into the driveway of a huge, more modern house near the end. You noticed two people standing at the front door and your eyes fell on Gabe standing opposite the couple inside the house, casually conversing with them. Genji opened the door for you, warning you to mind the ice.
“We’ll bring your bags inside and let Mira out to explore if that’s okay,” Shimada informed you and you nodded, thanking them as you headed towards the front entrance. Gabe looked up from the conversation as you approached, the couple he was conversing with turning towards you. ‘Play along’ you saw him mouth at you as you reached the steps that led up to the door, brow furrowing when he chuckled at your slightly taken aback expression.
“You must be Y/N! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” the man, a taller gentleman with dark hair and a mustache, greeted you brightly, extending his hand towards you and shaking it vigorously. The woman next to him, who you presumed was his wife, extended her hand as well, her long, black hair falling over her golden eyes as she greeted you quietly with a soft smile.
“Easy Gerard—she had a long flight,” Gabriel advised, extending a hand towards you as you came up the stairs, smiling when you took it and let him pull you inside. “Y/N—this is Gerard and Amelie. They live next door.”
“Nice to meet you both,” you said with a smile, clinging close to Gabriel’s side anxiously, caught slightly off guard by having been drawn suddenly into the conversation. You felt him rest his hand gently on your side, giving it a comforting squeeze that calmed your racing heart slightly.
“Gabriel has told us a lot about you. Congratulations on your tenure,” Amelie said, giving you a small, respectful nod. “Your dissertation on the influence of Renaissance humanist literature on Reformation ideology sounds intriguing. You’ll have to tell us about it sometime.”
“Gladly. It was a pivotal time in European history—the outcome of which shaped the religious and political landscape of the rest of the western world,” you replied with some degree of certainty, realizing what Gabe had meant when he said ‘play along’ earlier—also mentally thanking yourself for paying attention during your history class that past semester.
“We’ll leave you two be for now and let you get settled,” Gerard said with a finalizing nod towards both you and Gabriel. “See you on a couple of days.”
“Don’t forget that bottle of wine,” Gabriel called after them as they descended the stairs.
“Wouldn’t dream of it!” And with that, Gerard and Amelie disappeared down the driveway and across the street. Gabriel ushered you fully inside after, unwilling to let any more cold air in.
“Wha-what was that,” you asked once he closed the door, turning towards you with a small smile on his face.
“Oh—I told them you were a newly tenured professor at my alma mater—just wanted to see how well you could play along,” Gabriel replied, smirking slightly as he approached you.
“How’d I do?”
“Very well—you handled that nicely,” he replied, resting a hand on your lower back and guiding you through the modestly decorated house. “You’re more capable than you think. You’ll do just fine at the events I take you to.”
“I hope so,” you said hesitantly, looking around as you passed down a short hallway into an open living space. A large living room sat to your left and a kitchen to your right. The back wall was made up of mostly paneless windows facing the huge, snowy mountains in the distance. You drifted over to look through the glass, admiring the view for a moment, awestruck.
You were drawn back out of your head when Reyes approached you, extending a mug of hot chocolate towards you. You took it gratefully, holding it for a moment to let it warm your hands before taking a sip, turning to watch as Gabe returned to the kitchen to grab his coffee, your eyes trailing over his form slowly. You admired the way the maroon t-shirt he wore clung tightly to his chest and arms, outlining the toned muscles that lay underneath. Your eyes fell further, down his muscular abdomen to the black skinny jeans he wore that clung to his strong thighs in all of the right places.
You had only seen him in suits up until now and something about seeing him dressed so casually made you blush, moreso when you realized he had caught you staring just now. He chuckled when you looked away, unable to meet his gaze, your hand flying up to cover your flushed face. That made Gabriel laugh even harder.
“You’re alright, cariña. I’m flattered,” he replied softly, making his way over to you, running an idle hand across your shoulders and down your back, making you shiver, but you found yourself leaning into his touch. “How was your flight?”
“Long. Turbulence made me nauseous and poor Mira didn’t know what to do with herself, but I think we’re alright now,” you replied, finding yourself leaning into his side, searching for his warmth. “Sorry if me coming a day early was an inconvenience. I-I just couldn’t stand being home any longer.”
“Not an inconvenience at all—it’s always almost too quiet here, so I’m glad,” Gabriel replied, taking your jacket as you slipped it off and hanging it in a nearby closet before settling on the plush couch, motioning for you to join him. “What happened with your parents?” You sighed, settling onto the couch next to him, finding it easy to curl up against him, your thumb running idly around the lip of your mug.
“It just seems nothing I do is good enough for them, is all,” you murmured, looking up to meet Gabriel’s gentle gaze. “They said I don’t have enough friends and I don’t go out enough, so I got a job and made new friends and started going to bars with them, but then my school work was suffering because I was always going to class hungover and they yelled at me about my grades, so I started studying more meaning I couldn’t go out as often and they told me I was being too much of a shut-in and so on…”
“Endless cycle, huh?”
“Basically. Now all I want to do is sleep because I’m exhausted all the time from working and studying so much and I don’t have the time or energy to go out anymore, so we’re back to square one,” you murmured, clenching your jaw, fighting back tears. “And I know they hate the major I chose because they don’t think I’m good enough to make it and I know I’ll never make enough money to ever make them think I’m ‘successful’, so sometimes I wonder why I even try anymore.” Your voice broke as tears stained your cheeks, a sob wracking your body.
You hadn’t meant to cry, almost embarrassed, but Gabriel took it in stride, quick to pull you closer, rubbing your back and using a gentle thumb to wipe away your tears.
“You’ve been working so hard, cariña,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You can relax now—I’ll take care of what I can for you, just focus on what you need to, regardless of what your parents think.”
“I wish it was that easy,” you sniffled, leaning into his touch as he cupped your cheek, letting your eyes flutter closed.
“Give it time. You can quit your job, you don’t have to worry about your tuition, you can spend more time with your friends and still have time to study,” Reyes murmured in reply, dragging the pad of his thumb gently across your cheek. “You’re so talented and I wish your parents could see what I do.”
“I’m just so tired.”
Those words broke his heart.
“I know,” he whispered, drawing your head against his chest, threading his fingers gently through your hair. “Get some rest for now.”
Being close to him like this was strange, but somehow felt natural and after a moment you realized you didn’t want to move away, finding yourself tucking your head further against his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep, the subsequent nap you took making up for the sleep you missed this morning.
#gabriel reyes#gabriel reyes x reader#reaper#reaper x reader#overwatch#modern au#overwatch au#sugar daddy au#sugar daddy!gabriel reyes x reader#sugar daddy!gabriel reyes#photographer!reader#my writing#brigitte lindholm#tracer#lena oxton#amelie lacroix#gerard lacroix
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Ski trips
Bakukami week, Day 8 (Part one) : Snow @officialbakukamiweek
Summary: Class 1-A is invited on a winter trip to a ski lodge when Kaminari and Bakugo get trapped in a cave due to a small avalanche, and the class searches desperately to find them. Meanwhile, the pair are forced to talk about their feelings to get along without damage, and finding ways to keep warm together.
Read on AO3
Small note: If you’ve been following my Bakukami week entries, you’ll know I like to post them close together. Bc today has 11 fics I can’t without being at risk for being marked as a spam blog so there will be larger gaps. Also 6k+
Skiing wasn't something the class of 1-A usually would associate with hero training if everyone had been entirely honest. Other than forcing them to use their quirks in the snow, which they could do at home thank you very much, there wasn't a point. Even Aizawa admitted as such.
"We're going on this trip because the principal is sending us, no other reasons. It's privately owned by UA, so you can't find it on a map, and don't bring your costumes. Some of you have been approved to bring some gear, but that is all." He'd explained, after telling them about the trip. They'd be going to a hot spring resort in the mountains and would need to take a plane to get there. Not a bus. He'd also told them there'd be a hot spring bath they could soak in and games in the rooms, which would be assigned the day before departure. No swapping roommates, under any circumstances. For some, this was an easy rule to follow, but for others, things wouldn't be so easy.
Such is the fate of Kaminari Denki, a useless bisexual with a heart filled with dreams of a Shakespearean romance. No, not that one, more like As you Like it, A Midsummer Night's Dream or his favorite, Much Ado About Nothing. A hopeless romantic at heart, he could sing about it in sonnets with expressive iambic pentameter. If he could attain such a love in which to express properly, of course.
If only the person whom he crushed heaviest on didn't hate everything about romance, from Valentine's cards to things like cuddling and holding hands. In fact, he'd once heard Bakugo during a classic lit class assignment tell him how absolutely stupid romance books were. Still, a guy could hope, right?
Maybe this trip would be a good experience, a chance for them to get closer, especially if they were going to possibly be roommates!
"Oh no, Denki's got his thinking face on!" Ashido chimed, once they had returned to the dorms after school.
"Don't break yourself," Jirou shrugged, immediately on her way to her dorm room for some quality jamming sessions. Too much time with idiots.
Kaminari didn't say anything, truly, too lost in his thoughts to do so. What would he need for the trip? Well, that depended on who he was rooming with. The list would be in the common room, or so Aizawa said, and most of the class had already crammed around it. Some were cheering, like Midoriya about being with Shinsou, Sato with Kouda and Iida smiling with his pairing of Shoji. Others were already grouping, such as Aoyama and Tokoyami, who's personalities bounced off of one another as well as their quirks. Kaminari didn't have the heart to go over and see who he was rooming with, too deep in thought as he made a list of what he would need, missing Bakugo walking over to him with a scowl.
"Oi, you're with Shitty Hair. Don't infect him with your idiocy." He growled, snapping Kaminari out of his thoughts.
"O-oh? Am I with Kirishima? What about you, who are you rooming with?" Kaminari asked, his face red as he stumbled over his words. What? When the object of your current stupid crush is in front of you, looking as hot as Bakugo does all the time, then anyone would react the same way!
"I'm with Soy Sauce. Got a problem?" Bakugo glared at the other blonde, who shook his head indignantly. When Bakugo left, Kaminari running up to Kirishima; the only other person who knew--Who are we kidding everyone except Bakugo knew--About his crush.
"Eiji-" Kaminari said, holding onto the redhead's sleeve to help ground himself. Kirishima raised an eyebrow, wanting to laugh at his antics, yet also knowing the common room wasn't the place to do so.
"C'mon, let's go to your room to talk." Kirishima chuckled, Kaminari nodding with a bright red face. They made their way to the third floor, the electric blonde jumping onto his bed and covering himself with the blankets, hiding his face in the pillow.
"He's so hot- Oh my god he's so hot and he actually cares- Wait he called me an idiot what am I saying- But oh man the look on his face!"
Kirishima took his seat at the desk, letting the excitement and energy wear off. "Mind if I change, man? You snatched one of my shirts, so-" He said, seeing a thumbs up emerge from the blanket roll.
"Oh my god, what am I going to do, Eiji? He's gonna notice eventually, or I'm gonna burst!" Kaminari whined, his voice muffled by the pillow.
"What are you going to do? Man, you're gonna tell him! Pull yourself together and tell him! Fight your feelings! Win! Come out on top!"
"You sound like a movie character- But yeah! I'll just tell him! One problem, how the heck do I do that?!"
"You just do it, dude! Tell him straight out, 'Hey, Bakugo, I like you!' How hard is that?"
"Eiji, my dude, I love you but-"
"I'm but a humble, somewhat functional gay and you are a disaster, useless bisexual. I'm aware."
"I was gonna say you've got experience and I am a blithering idiot, but that works too."
Kirishima bust out laughing, his t-shirt in hand as Kaminari emerged from the blanket burrito he'd made, locking eyes with a grin. "Wanna go do some pre-trip shopping? I need a new jacket before we leave,"
"Yeah, some gloves wouldn't hurt either. Mine kept ripping." Kirishima smiled, his dazzling smile blinding the blonde, who blocked his eyes with his arms.
"Nooooo, it's too bright! Too hot! I'm melting!"
"C'mon, bro, you don't melt. Bakugo would've melted you a long time ago." Kirishima snickered, blocking the pillow thrown at his face.
Honestly, being seated next to Bakugo on the ride up could have been worse. Kaminari had been approved to bring his communicator in case of an emergency, and Bakugo was allowed his gloves and jacket from his costume. Those were the only equipment passes he knew of, but he hadn't bothered to ask. They spent their time, mostly, listening to their own music and ignoring each other, with Kaminari chatting with Kirishima and Ashido in front of him, and Sero and Jirou behind. As much as it pained him to admit, Bakugo didn't seem interested in things, watching instead as the fall leaves of Musutafu turned to light snowfall of the mountains. The air had chilled, Tsuyu only awake by the layers and layers of warm clothes she wore and Todoroki next to her.
Things were quiet with the class, Kirishima leaning over and whispering, "Did'ya do it yet? Did you tell him?" with a grin.
"No, not. Uh. Not yet." He responded, sitting back with a blush, glancing at Bakugo who wasn't paying attention.
"C'mon, man, you gotta tell him before the trip is over! Plus ultra, yeah?" Kirishima lowered his voice, knowing that if anyone overheard him uttering the last sentence it would amount in yelling which Aizawa would now be able to handle. Not today, not with the three day weekend they had ahead.
"You can't honestly believe this isn't training too, right?" Kaminari raised an eyebrow, "There's not gonna be any free time if Mr. Aizawa has his way."
"Can he do that?" Ashido whined, interrupting their conversation.
"Anything can be a training experience," Sero sighed, his grin shaking a bit at the thought.
"Well, we can stay positive and try not to think about it! Right Bakugo?" Kirishima grinned at the way Kaminari's face bloomed red, Bakugo only looking away from the window to glare and scoff at them. Honestly, Kaminari wasn't sure he was going to survive the trip, because hello aloof Bakugo, meet the love-struck Kaminari.
The mountain was really, really tall. Okay, maybe that's why it was called a mountain, from the Vulgar Latin 'montanea', but why did the word come from that? Why montanea? Why?
Kaminari had to stop his train of thought before it went off the deep end because there was a hot guy next to him who tried to talk to him and he was thinking about mountains. Well, the origin of the word-- No! Not again!
He frantically shook his head to attempt to stay focused, tapping on his leg in assistance. His fidget toy had, unfortunately, been left on his bed at the dorms. He'd been thinking about skiing and snowboarding, and the idea to bring the thing which helped him focus wasn't once which struck him.
"Oi, dumbass!" Bakugo yelled, snapping his gloved fingers twice in front of Kaminari's face.
"I'm here!" Kaminari said, the cold nipping at his exposed face and nose. They'd only been at the resort for a few hours, and most of the class had decided it was too late to go out to the slopes at this hour. At the time, Kaminari was about to agree, until Bakugo got up and announced he was heading to the slopes to snowboard a bit before bed. The look on Kirishima's face had been priceless, even as Aizawa warned them to stick to the trails and make sure they had their phones on them in case of an emergency and stick together in pairs of at least two or more.
Of course, only a few others joined them. Yaoyorozu, Tokoyami, Todoroki, and Uraraka. Everyone else, wisely, stayed inside. The wind was picking up, snow blustering around them.
"Right, like fuck you are. Everyone else has already started heading down, let's go!" Bakugo glared defensively, and Kaminari nodded. They put their goggles on, the path illuminated by the lampposts along the treeline.
With Kaminari's lack of experience in skiing and his diminishing vision in the snow, it wasn't likely that he would make it down as fast as Bakugo, nor with as much precision. After all, Bakugo was the best at everything. He managed to make wearing a helmet look cool, even.
It felt faster than they were actually going, instead of the realistic twenty or thirty it felt like sixty or a hundred, wind slamming against their faces and snow barreling down upon them. The tail end of Bakugo's run, flurries coming from his bright orange snowboard, continued to block Kaminari's vision so he had to stop, leaning to the right to pull a full halt, veering off the path without realizing and yelling as he tumbled to the ground, back crashing against the packed snow. His legs pulled in towards his chest as pain crashed through him, arms coming up to protect his face.
He wasn't supposed to let either of those things happen, he knew, but he couldn't think at the moment as he came to a stop, thoughts garbled and head spinning.
Distantly, someone called out to him, gruff and annoyed, but he couldn't figure out who said it and what had happened. All Kaminari knew was that it was cold, dark, and he wanted nothing more than to lay there and get his breath back.
"Oi, wake up! Don't fucking die on me!" The voice called, and Kaminari looked up from the snow he'd faceplanted in to see Bakugo standing next to him, having unclipped one of his boots from the lock for stability in the snow. His arms were crossed, the scratchy sounding fabric of his black and orange jacket and snow pants the only thing which let him know which direction to look. He must have tumbled far away, considering how the light from the slope was distant.
"I'm not dead..." Kaminari said, pushing himself up from the snow with a wince. His wrists tingled, nothing too bad but enough to let him know something was wrong if he'd paid attention. Now in a kneeling position, he sunk into the cold whiteness, Bakugo staring him down.
"Right. C'mon, unclip, we're walking back to the stupid path." Bakugo said with a hiss, Kaminari's bright smile a perfect opposite response as he followed directions, unclipping one of his snowboard boots-- He should be able to feel his toes, right?
"Do you have any idea how fucking lucky you are, dunce face?" Bakugo hissed, staring beyond the other blonde.
"I didn't break anything or hit a tree, so I'd say I'm pretty lucky!" Kaminari chuckled, his words slightly slurred.
"Turn around! Fucking idiot!"
Behind him, ten or so feet away, was a cliff of dark nothingness. Kaminari gulped, nodding and hurrying to unclip himself.
As soon as one of his feet was free, a rumbling came from behind them, and the ground shook, Bakugo taking action before Kaminari even realized what was going on. He unclipped his other boot quickly, telling the other blonde to do the same before grabbing him, a forceful wave of snow plummeting them down the chasm, off the cliff.
"Hey, has anyone seen Kaminari and Bakugo?" Kirishima asked, sometime around midnight, "Kaminari never came to bed, man." He looked out around the room where Sero, Uraraka, Todoroki, and Midoriya were playing cards, though it looked as if Midoriya was about to fall asleep on Todoroki's left. They glanced up at him, and Uraraka seemed contemplative.
"I've been out here the whole time, dude, I wouldn't know if they came back." Sero shrugged.
"Now that you mention it, Kirishima, Bakugo did say that he wanted to do a few runs before coming back. I'm sure everything's fine!" Uraraka cheered, putting a card down and saying something about hearts having been broken.
"Kacchan is always in bed early," Midoriya mumbled, sleepily nuzzling against Todoroki. Was he even playing cards?
"I never saw them reach the bottom," Todoroki said, seeing Sero having played the ace of spades and playing the queen of spades, to Sero's extreme anguish.
Four pairs of eyes set themselves upon the candy cane haired teenager.
"You never saw them reach the bottom!?" Kirishima exclaimed in tandem with a now very much awake Midoriya.
"Shou, that's the kind of thing you tell people!"
"Uh, we should probably tell Mr. Aizawa..." Sero suggested, looking nervously around the table. "They could've gotten into an accident or something."
"But Kaminari has his communicator, and they have their phones!"
Todoroki pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing Kaminari quickly and receiving an immediate voice mail.
"Don't call Denki; for someone with an electrical quirk, his phone is never charged." Sero sighed, patting Kirishima's back to keep him from hyperventilating. Last time something like this happened, well, was back with Kamino.
"Oh my god villains might've- We gotta find them!!" Kirishima said, eyes wide and panic flooding his body.
"Call Bakugo first, Kiri, we have to stay calm," Sero said, patting the de-spiked red hair of his friend. Midoriya and Uraraka were attempting to explain why someone not coming down a hill when they were supposed to be was something to report to an oblivious Todoroki. Normally, this would be something amusing, yet it only served to heighten their anxiety as Kirishima shakily pulled out his phone and dialed Bakugo.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep... "You've reached Bakugo Katsuki. Fuck off or call back some other time."
"Get Aizawa. Now."
Waking up in darkness was never the best thing in Kaminari's mind. It meant that it was too early for the sun to be out and therefore he shouldn't be either. Really, how hard is that to understand? So, when he woke up and everything was dark, despite the stinging of his wrists, back, and legs, he tried to go right back to sleep. The bitter cold nipped at his face and wet clothes, his pulse quickening, and Kaminari had a hard time keeping himself from sparking. Cold tended to cause electricity to go berzerk.
"Kaminari," Bakugo said to the other shivering teen, the space in the cave not allowing for much room away.
Golden eyes opened again to see him, palm lightly sparkling and allowing light to fill the space again.
"Yeah...? Where are we..?"
"We're in a cave at the bottom of the cliff. I dragged your ass here, the storm picked up."
Ah, that's why he was soaked. The avalanche.
"Right..." Kaminari sighed, sitting up and shivering as a wind blustered into their space.
"Both our phones are fucked, where's your transmitter?" Bakugo asked, crossing his legs and leaning forward, keeping up the low light.
"It's my earmuffs," Kaminari reached up to his hat, hissing with the movement of his wrist. He mostly ignored it, pressing his numb, gloved hand to the electronic device, but it wouldn't turn on. Kaminari made a confused noise, trying to activate his quirk properly but for some reason, couldn't discharge.
"Something up?"
"Yeah, I can't... My quirk isn't working right."
"Fucking great. Probably 'cause of the shitty cold."
Kaminari couldn't argue, keeping to his side of the cave. He was alone, with his crush, and Bakugo knew better than to explode in this situation. How the hell is he gonna function through this without confessing?
"Hey, Bakugo?" Kaminari said, "How long do you think you can keep the light up?"
"A few hours, in the cold. The gloves help, but it's not great."
"I can take over the light if you need a break?"
"Fuck off!"
"Do you think they're looking for us?"
"They probably haven't even noticed we're not there. Get your damn quirk in order." Kaminari scootched closer, Bakugo glaring at him. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"It's cold..." Kaminari pouted, his gloved hands reaching out to the other teen.
"That's what happens when it snows, why are you touching me?"
"Because it's really tight in here, so if I move, I touch you."
"Why..." Bakugo growled, the light increasing from his hand as it twitched, crackling becoming louder and heat radiating off of it.
"Why what?" Kaminari didn't fall back, even daring to get closer to his crush with a bright red face.
"Why are you so fucking nice?! Why do you want to be near me?! What the hell do you gain from it?!" Bakugo exclaimed, ferocity lacing his words in every sense. Kaminari blinked twice, head tilted as another gust of wind blew into the cave, freezing him to his core with a shiver.
"I don't g-gain anything..." He said, "Just a... uh... A friend."
"And why in the ever loving fuck would you want to be my friend?!"
Kaminari grinned, a heart-stopping smile which made Bakugo twitch, red rising to his cheeks and a large boom emanating from his hand.
"Because you're not as scary as everyone thinks. You're actually nice, kind funny, passionate about everything you do and say. It's. Uh." Suddenly, Kaminari's face got redder, and he fell back to cover his face, static causing his hair to fly up on end. It was pretty cute, or so Bakugo thought, but it wasn't the point.
"It's what?! God, speak up!"
Kaminari mumbled, shaking his head.
"Fucking- Kaminari!"
Another shake, more shivering.
"Denki Kaminari, answer me!"
"It's one of the reasons I like you, you- You ass!" Kaminari pulled his hands off his face, tears brimming amber eyes, and Bakugo's heart cracked. His quirk stopped. The light faded, and they were left in darkness and the sound of the wind.
"Alright, everyone!" Aizawa yelled, "Split up into groups, don't go anywhere dangerous without a teacher and keep your cell phones on! We're search and rescuing; once you find them, alert those nearby! Do not act on your own under any circumstances and keep your lights on!"
The class, as a whole, agreed and set off in their different assigned directions.
"I hope they're okay," Kirishima worried, his red skis a stark contrast against the white powder.
"They'll be fine, Kiri." Ashido soothed, her smile brighter than it had a usual right to be. She was great at making people around her happy, even in perilous situations. "Besides, wasn't Kami kinda right?"
"Huh?"
"It did turn into training!" Sero interrupted, his smile and positive attitude a balm for anxiety. Kirishima couldn't help but laugh through his worries.
"If you're calling this training, then pay attention!!" Aizawa zoomed past them, faster than they had ever seen, expertly making his way through the treelines.
"Uh."
"Yeah, let's... Let's go..."
"That's what I've been trying to do!"
"Kirishima don't go jumping towards any cliffs!"
"Sero, grab him!"
"On it!"
"Our friends are in danger!!"
"We're kind of a mess, aren't we?"
"I mean we've known this since day one but yeah, we're a mess,"
"Let me go!"
"Holy shit Sero- He's actually dragging you like a dogsled!"
"We gotta chill out and keep rational heads, Kiri!"
"You really just said that to Kirishima of all people?"
If anyone had been around to witness such acts, they might have assumed this was the result of being without Bakugo, but no. No. These actions perfectly recreated the Bakusquad, especially as they planned to cuddle the crap out of the two once they found them.
"You... Like me?" Bakugo said, his voice a mere whisper above the roaring wind.
"Y... Yeah, I do. I-I have for a while, now." Kaminari's breath came in puffs, wavering as he lost feeling in his hands and trust in his vision, shaking and pulling in on himself to stay warm. Unlike his partner, his jacket didn't work as well as an insulator and at keeping him warm.
"I don't fucking get it- Why would you like me?!" Bakugo growled into the darkness, which slowly became illuminated by the electricity bouncing off of Kaminari. He couldn't focus it, instead, it spread around him and flowed freely, faster than ever because of the cold. It licked at the walls, buzzing and dropping the temperature around the shaking blonde.
"You... I..." Kaminari's vision blurred, slowly and he swayed, attempting to focus in on the other. "I just do." He whispered, lost to the winds as he fell forward, shaking wildly and losing feeling.
Bakugo's cracked heart shattered.
He reached forward to pull Kaminari against himself, the cold penetrating the generated heat by the jacket. "Holy shit, you're frozen..." Bakugo said, wrapping his arms around the shivering teen's form to assist in keeping him warm. Kaminari was barely present, curling up into a fetal position, clinging to Bakugo's jacket. Everything about him was warm, a blessing against the night air.
"You're going to be okay, Sparky," Bakugo grumbled, one of his hands finding a place against Kaminari's head, stroking through his hair. They'd probably be stuck for a while, but at least they could stay decently warm. "Keep talking."
"A... Ab-abo-about?" Kaminari's teeth chattered, all feeling in his hands, feet, and face being lost.
"Why the fuck do you like me? There are people like Kirishima who fit you better."
"Beca-because. Y-you're... you. You're l-loud, g-g-good-d, the. The best. Hot. Fun-funny-y, honest-t..." Bakugo hummed, the rumbling enough to keep Kaminari focused on the moment. "I'm- Surprised... You haven't. Reje-rejected me."
Bakugo shrugged, "Don't fucking feel like it. Don't shut up."
"Why...?"
"When you talk, you're less likely to pass out. Keep talking."
But Kaminari didn't say anything, his face bright red from both the cod and embarrassment. "I'm here..."
"You can ramble on and on any other time, but not now? That's a load of shit."
A small, weak chuckle pulled from Kaminari's lungs, coming out in small visible puffs as his electricity swarmed around them.
"I. I can. Try contacting..?"
"Do it."
"I can't f-feel my hands..."
Bakugo tightened his grip on Kaminari, only to let go a moment later and start unzipping the smaller blonde's jacket, much to his embarrassment. "Wh-Wha-?!" Kaminari blushed, attempting to shove him off, but the soaking wet clothing was quickly shed, set off to the side. Kaminari's shivering increased, mumbling something about actually trying to kill him until he saw Bakugo also unzipping his own jacket in the dim light.
Once more he was yanked against Bakugo's chest, this time the only thing separating his face from the skin being a black turtleneck. Warmth enveloped him, the rather large coat now being shared between the two. Kaminari felt his brain frying itself, too embarrassed to think properly. What was he supposed to do?
"Warm up; we're not dying here. I've got questions for you, shitface." Bakugo growled, but Kaminari could feel his rapid heartbeat against his face. Holy shit, this is heaven. He was in heaven. Cold heaven, but nonetheless. Tingling spread across his fingers, feeling returning as his temperature evened out. Of course, he still couldn't feel his toes, but it was better than nothing. Everything was warm, fuzzy even, between the blondes. Bakugo was calm under pressure, could make a quick judgment and be one hundred percent sure it was the right choice, and Kaminari found himself falling for him all over again. Stupid heart, this was life or death!
He carefully reached up to his transmitter, biting his lip slightly. There's not a lot of steps in calling someone with it, he'd programmed all his classmate's numbers into the device, but what they needed was a pro or someone with a quirk related to heat.
"Who do I call?" Kaminari asked, unable to look up at Bakugo due to the collar of the coat.
"Either Half-n-half or Aizawa, they're our best bet. We're snowed in, so make the most of it." Bakugo's voice was more gentle than he could ever recall it being, which sent a wave of warmth spreading throughout his cold body.
Kaminari focused on sending power to his electronic, static filling his ears before the sound of ringing.
"Calling Mr. Aizawa..." He mumbled, hoping the cave wouldn't interfere too much. He could feel Bakugo getting colder, the jacket being meant for one person and not two.
Their teacher picked up immediately, wind whipping in the distance.
"Kaminari? Where are you two?" Aizawa said, his voice calm and even despite the storm.
"At the bottom of the cliff, off of... Uh..."
"Delta," Bakugo provided the name of the slope, Kaminari repeating for clarity.
"Alright; any wounds?"
"N-No, sir. It's just really cold..."
"Stay on the line, Kaminari. Bakugo's jacket can keep you both warm, according to its specs, so huddle up together so no one catches hypothermia."
"Already doing that, sir... We're in a cave, it's snowed in."
"We'll be there soon- Todoroki! You're with me!" Aizawa called to their fellow student, and Kaminari focused on keeping the line open and active.
"How's Bakugo?" Aizawa asked, and despite the increased heart rate, Bakugo seemed fine. Burning like a furnace, yes, but fine.
"I think he's alright. He's warm," Bakugo's grumbling was minute, a gust of wind chilling the two again before the heater activated again.
"Right... Okay, it's going to be-"
The line cut out, Kaminari groaning. Why now?
"Call ended..." Kaminari said, Bakugo doing his best to keep them both warm. Kaminari was still wet, his shirt and pants having soaked through in the initial fall even with the layers, which wasn't conducive to having to spend time in the frozen night air. Kaminari could feel sleep calling him, but the cold kept him awake forcefully.
"Don't you dare fall asleep on me," Bakugo whispered, his voice shaking with the new chill. He couldn't keep them both warm, and the snow was piling up in the darkness. Nothing could be seen, only felt in this cramped space. If he blew open the snow barrier, then Aizawa could find them easier, but it would expose them to the brunt of the wind's force and bitterness. He couldn't risk it. A mumble came from the smaller teen, shaking and shivering again, and before he knew it Bakugo found himself curling around Kaminari, attempting to wrap him in as much warmth as he could. He could stay warm on his own, his temperature naturally ran a little high, but Kaminari couldn't. Not only was he smaller, but he was less accustomed to the cold.
The only thing they could hope was that they'd be found before it became too late.
Getting to the bottom of the cliff wasn't the issue, really. The issue with finding them was Kaminari's signal had been cut off, and his idiotic friend group had followed Todoroki once called by their teacher.
Why he allowed them to go, he didn't understand, nor did he attempt to. His class worked how it wanted to work, no more and no less.
"Be careful going down. Kirishima, you can't jump off the cliff to save time." Aizawa sighed, the path they had to make it down a slightly difficult one, but one he knew they could handle since they'd traded in Skis and Snowboards for snowshoes. He'd already sent out a mass text to the class, telling them to head back to the lodge and wait for further instructions. Their lord and savior, All Might, only knew if they'd actually obeyed.
"Yessir!" Kirishima said, tape hanging off of his arms from Sero's forcefully holding him back.
"Alright, we're going down carefully. Todoroki, you take the lead, and I'll go down last. Single file, children."
Honestly, Aizawa had planned on a calm, relaxing trip. But there was an old adage he'd heard, which seemed to follow his life perfectly. 'Tell God your plans, and hear Him laugh.' Why? His class was filled with problem children, of course.
He watched as Todoroki lit their way down, slowly making their way through the trees and snow, which crunched beneath them louder than it had any right to be.
"How are you not cold, Todoroki?" Ashido asked, her eyes trained on the fire coming from the other teen's hand.
"Dude, his quirk is part ice!" Sero grinned, Kirishima nodding despite his worried expression. He really wanted to run in ahead, but he'd learned it would accomplish nothing to go in on his own.
"I guess I'm just used to it. Aren't you all cold?" Todoroki offered, his monotone voice smooth as ever. He certainly earned his place of the ice queen of class 1-A.
"Not really," Kirishima shrugged.
"Kinda?" Ashido glanced around, "It's spooky, so chills, but not that cold."
"I think you broke my ability to feel the cold back at the sports festival." Sero awkwardly chuckled.
"I'd say that was a nice try at humor," Todoroki said, face deadpan as ever, "But it's actually just sad."
"OHHHHHH HE'S GOT JOKES!" Ashido laughed, and even Kirishima couldn't help but chuckle. Sero, however, was not amused. He stared ahead their path as they got closer and closer to the bottom, unsure of how exactly to feel about the situation.
Aizawa wondered why he couldn't find a moment of peace in his life and had to interrupt their raucous merriment.
"When we get to the bottom, you're all going to spread out to cover more ground, understand?"
They looked up at him, and though he knew this wasn't as urgent as it should be treated due to the lack of proper authority around, he could see their urge to run ahead. The four nodded, and Aizawa sighed.
"Once you find them, Todoroki's going to melt the snow so we can get them back up to the lodge. Afterward, leave them alone and Delta will be off limits."
"B-Bakugo?" Kaminari said, shaking and scared after losing feeling in his legs.
"What?" The ashy blonde hissed, his hands trembling as he held onto the freezing teen.
"Let me g-go. Your jacket isn't meant to heat tw-two people... Hah..." If he cried, the tears would freeze along the snowflakes stuck to his eyelashes.
"No way in hell, S-Sparky."
"You'll lose-"
"Fucking hell, it... It isn't... If you..."
As the cold settled into their bodies, thinking got harder and harder. Kaminari was used to the idea of not thinking, only acting, and slipped out of the jacket and started zipping it back up to help preserve some of Bakugo's heat despite his protests.
"I'll be okay," Kaminari whispered with chapped lips, not leaving the hold Bakugo had on him. He knew he was lying, and his self-preservation be damned, but he found himself whispering, "Wh-when in love, you do... stupid things, ye-yeah?"
The only thing lighting up their dark space was the electricity coming off of him, but it was enough for him to properly do up the covering buttons on the hero's jacket. Bakugo was more important to be alright.
"Fuck you-" Bakugo chattered out, pulling Kaminari as close as he could and rubbing his gloved hands over the shivering teen's body to create friction, helping to keep them warm. Would they make it? The temperature was dropping by the second and Kaminari's vision was blurring as his quirk weakened. Dark spots, which appeared in his vision before his jacket had been stripped from him, grew steadily bigger the more time passed. Everything was fuzzy, unsure and blurry in shadows.
A warmth washed over him, from the inside out, as something was whispered amongst the cave. He didn't know what had been said, nor what was held behind it, yet it warmed every inch of his being.
As if he were underwater, he heard Bakugo yelling something and felt the warmth of his hand leave, a bright light to his left and muffled explosions. He couldn't even shiver any more, the electricity in his body shutting down like a dead body. Kaminari felt warm arms wrap around him once more, a red light coming into their dark cave and plummeted into nothingness.
Something heavy and warm surrounded him. Soft, too. Fingers carded through his hair, brushing heatedly against his scalp.
"I can tell you're awake, idiot." A gruff voice said, but Kaminari snuggled into the blankets with a whine and wiggled slightly to ignore it. He could finally feel his feet again, let him be. "C'mon, you've gotta be hungry." The voice said again, and the hand on his head left to shake his shoulder.
"Mnnn... No. It's warm..." He said, and there was a new voice.
"You're awake! Man, we didn't know how long you'd be out!" It called, and a new weight piled on top of him, forcing the air out of his lungs.
"Oi, Kirishima, don't fucking kill him!"
Kaminari peeked open his eyes to find Kirishima sprawled out overtop of him and Bakugo sitting next to him, once more running his fingers through the black and blonde bangs of Kaminari's hair.
"Hey," Kaminari said, voice scratchy and tired. Honestly, he felt like a million bricks had crashed onto him. Kirishima got up, grinning with tears in his eyes.
"You both are not allowed to leave our sight on trips anymore! Something always happens to Bakugo and this time he dragged Kaminari too!"
"And who the fuck are you to decide this shit?!" Bakugo glared, and Kaminari winced slightly. Everything was still slightly chilly, now that he was out of the blankets.
"Your manly best friend!" Kirishima chuckled, Bakugo smirking in a near laugh before kicking him out of the recovery room.
"You doing alright?" Kaminari asked, attempting to pull himself into a sitting position but finding his arms too weak. Bakugo stopped running his fingers through Kaminari's hair to help him, and pull him once more to his chest. 'Third time's the charm,' a small voice echoed in the back of the stupefied blonde.
"I'm fine, now it's warmer."
"H... How long have we been back?"
"Well, it's two in the afternoon, dumbass, so do the math."
Kaminari blinked twice, hearing and feeling as Bakugo's pulse picked up.
"You're embarrassed," He pointed out, looking up at the other blonde with a confused smile.
"Fuck off!"
"If this is your way of rejecting me now that we're not in peril, it's a really weird way of doing it."
Bakugo's pulse skyrocketed, hands twitched and he looked away from him. "I'm not rejecting you, Sparky..."
Kaminari wasn't the smartest person in the world, but he was pretty sure being told he wasn't being rejected meant his feelings were either accepted or reciprocated. Could it be true? Possibly?
"I don't understand why someone as fucking cute- Like you or- Holy shit this is fucking hard to say. Look, Sparky." Bakugo sighed, taking a minute to keep himself from exploding as he looked anywhere but Kaminari's face, "Someone like you, and someone like me, we don't work together. You could have anyone in our damn school with a smile, and you pick me? Why? But why the fuck does seeing you with someone else makes me wanna punch the wall in? I don't get it!!" He yelled out, his temper getting the better of him.
"When you said you fucking- That you liked me," He spat out the word as if it were disgusting, "I don't even know what I fucking felt. Since the fucking licensing exam, every time I see you, the only thing I can think to do is push you against a wall! What the hell does that even mean?! Argh!" The grip on the back of Kaminari's blue sweater tightened, "Mother of fuck! And last night. Last fucking night. It just all came out! Holy fuck I actually... Don't fucking laugh, you idiot blonde, stupid lightning bug-"
"Lightning bug? Aww, it's a bit early for pet names-"
"FUCK YOU!!!" Bakugo screeched, his emotions having bubbled up and boiled over long ago.
"D-do you wanna?" Kaminari asked, face red in embarrassment. The situation was only slowly sinking in for him. Bakugo liked him back? Or, at least, if he didn't like him, had feelings of lust and jealousy. He could work with that.
"Not at the moment-!"
Kaminari squirmed, trying to escape the hold Bakugo had on him but his body was still weak from the exposure time to the snow. "Lemme go-" He mumbled, summoning a small amount of electricity to force Bakugo to let him go with a hiss. He fell back, shakily supporting himself as Bakugo stared down at him with angry and confused red eyes.
"I don't know what you're feeling, exactly..." Kaminari swallowed, nervously looking around the room, "But. I know that I like you. And last night was kinda romantic? In a Shakespearean kinda way? So, uh, even. Even if you don't wanna be with-"
"Fucking fuck, Sparky!" Bakugo interrupted, his voice a mere growl above actually speaking, "Whatever this is, it's not stopping me from becoming the number one. Got it? We can do shit, call it whatever the fuck you want, but if it comes down to advancing or you, I'm leaving you behind; so keep up."
Kaminari knew that was as close to a proper confession, and to being asked out, as Bakugo got so he surged forward with an unknown strength and kissed him.
Outside, yelling could be heard, and the remaining members of the Bakusquad sat in relative silence, pondering one single question.
"Since when is nearly dying romantic?" They whispered simultaneously, questioning how much damage the snow had done to their friends' sanity.
#Bakukamiweek2018#bakukami#angst#Nearly dying#Almost freezing to death#Kaminari Denki#Bakugo Katsuki#Skiing#Snowboarding#Avalanche#cuddling#sharing body heat#Bakusquad#ask to tag
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Something - Taako & Lucretia angsty oneshot thing
aka “Lucretia tries to talk to Taako, but doesn't really get a word in.”
hi i was on a walk today and found myself imagining a post story and song conversation between these two and wanted to write it down, and then it became an actual fic. i know this concept has been written like 45 times and all of these were much better and more fleshed out than this, but, whatevs. i live 4 the angst
AO3 link
~~~~
“Hello, Taako.”
“Lucretia.”
His usual lively and singsong voice was noticeably absent. Her name was spat from his lips more than it was spoken. The cautious optimism that was previously lingering in Lucretia’s mind was quickly stamped out by the utterance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was never her idea. Her strained relationship with Taako was a source of pain in her life, certainly, but she had accepted this as a product of what she did, what she needed to do. As much as she would love to make amends, to have her brother back, she respected Taako’s decision to forget her. It was only fair.
Magnus disagreed. He was disappointed in Taako for refusing to repair, or even acknowledge, the rift in the family caused by their strained relationship. He was disappointed in Lucretia for being so complacent. He couldn’t believe that two members of his family that had been so close for so long could live contently with this animosity between them. It’d been long enough, and Magnus wasn’t going to stand for it anymore. He wanted his family back.
He invited Taako to dinner, bragging about how his cooking skills had improved and telling him that the dogs missed him. He neglected to mention that Lucretia was going to be there, and that Magnus would be out of town for the night.
Her stomach was in knots hours before Taako was expected to arrive, and as she heard the door beginning to open, it felt as though all of her internal organs were rioting within her. She didn’t want to have this conversation at all, but she couldn’t stop herself from hoping that it went well. She did miss him.
The door swung open, Taako’s eyes met with Lucretia’s, and they both froze. His desire to turn heel and run was palpable and did not go unnoticed by Lucretia. She decided to break the silence before he got the chance to leave.
“Hello, Taako.”
“Lucretia.”
His usual lively and singsong voice was noticeably absent. Her name was spat from his lips more than it was spoken. The cautious optimism that was previously lingering in Lucretia’s mind was quickly stamped out by the utterance.
She opened her mouth to speak, but his words came first, loud and quick.
“Where the fuck is Magnus?” he demanded, putting his hands on his hips and looking back towards the door.
“He… He stepped out, briefly, to retrieve some wood for the fireplace. He should return shortly.” A lie. Magnus was two towns away, visiting Carey and Killian. Lucretia didn’t think Taako would be staying long enough to find out if it were true, anyways.
“Cool, cool. I’ll be waiting outside for him, then,” his normal cadence was back, an attempt to act as if nothing was wrong.
As Taako turned towards the door again, Lucretia found herself saying his name. “Taako… please.”
Please stay. Please talk to me. Please fix this with me.
“Save it,” Taako answered with vitriol, not even turning to face the woman we was speaking to. “I didn’t come here for you. He said you weren’t here.”
“He.. wanted me to talk to you.” Lucretia’s voice was quiet and she spoke slowly, testing the waters. She didn’t know what Taako was like nowadays. She didn’t know him at all anymore.
He stopped. His hands rose to bury his face in. “Fucking fine. I’ve heard enough about this from them. Fuck it,” Taako said, more to himself than to Lucretia. He turned and walked past her briskly, taking a seat at the dining table a few feet away from the doorway. “You wanna talk? Alright, Lucy. Come here and fucking talk to me.”
She sat in the seat furthest from where Taako was and rested her folded hands on the table, not knowing where to go from here. After a few moments of silence, she spoke. “How… how have you been, Taako?”
“Fucking great actually. I have a sweet, kickass fiancé, a sweet, kickass career and my sweet, kickass sister is here to enjoy all of these things with me,” Taako said, his sarcastic tone withstanding. He paused briefly before adding, “No thanks to you.”
Lucretia sighed quietly, electing to ignore his obvious passive aggression. “I am glad to hear it,” she said with as much warmth as she could muster. She meant it. He deserved to be happy, and Lucretia was glad he had found that peace.
“How are you? Wait, nah. How’s Magnus?” Taako’s words were syrupy and dripping with an inflection that suggested an ulterior motive.
“He’s good. We… we’re good,” she replied, beginning to feel defensive.
“Ah, yes, ‘we’re good,’ of course. It’s ‘we’ now, isn’t it.” He leaned forward, now looking directly at Lucretia, smirking.
“I was under the impression that you knew this,” she said, meeting his stare with one of her own. “Do you not approve?”
“Of course I don’t. Magnus is an idiot. You’re just a replacement,” Taako spat, his confident demeanor wavering ever so slightly.
“I…” Lucretia began, but he cut her off.
“You can stay here and play house all you want, but don’t for a moment believe that you’re anything but Magnus’s new charity project. He loves to feel like the most caring and heroic man in the world. He pities you, and it makes him feel good to help pitiful people. He doesn’t love you.”
Lucretia said nothing. She broke eye contact with Taako, looking down at her hands.
“You fucked up, Lucy. You wiped our fucking memories and sent us along to find new lives. And we did. He found someone he loved, and it wasn’t you.”
“Ta-”
“I’m not done talking. You forced a decade of misery on me. I spent like 12 fucking years not looking for my missing sister because I didn’t know I had one. You sent me off with a fucking stagecoach and hoped for the best. I went through hell because of you.” His voice was shaking. Tears began to form in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall down his cheeks.
“You were my fucking sister, too. I want to forgive you. I do. I wish every fucking day that I could just forget what you did to me and let everything go back to normal. You don’t deserve it, but I do.” Taako saw Lucretia open her mouth to speak, but continued. “When I see your face, that moment comes flooding back. The things you took from me come flooding back. And I can’t pretend I don’t hate you.”
Every word he spoke felt like a fresh wound. They were both desperately fighting back tears, neither one willing to be the first to break down. The silence was deafening and Lucretia was stricken with the thought that this entire thing was a mistake. Speaking to him and hearing those words had only made things worse.
“I’m sorry,” Lucretia managed to choke out before her efforts to keep it together finally failed. Her tears fell and she buried her face into her hands, leaning onto the table in front of her. Sobbing. She hadn’t allowed herself to cry in months. A buildup of emotions all came flooding out at once.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds echoing through the house being quiet sobs and the dogs barking outside.
Taako composed himself and sighed. “I’m sorry too. But I can’t forgive you. Not yet. Maybe never. I don’t fucking know and I’m not in the mood to think about it. I’m gonna go.” He stood up, wiped his eyes and walked towards the exit, pausing in the doorway briefly.
“I love you, Taako. I always will. I’m sorry.” Lucretia began to stand up to walk towards him, but he had already left, the door slamming behind him just as she reached it. He was gone.
Lucretia stood there for a while, lost in her own thoughts. It wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t even closure, but it was something. That was good enough for now.
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Grocery Shopping - Ch. 1
Read it on AO3!
Chapter Summary: Evan Hansen can't sleep, and somehow this is cause for many, many problems.
Notes: hi im writing thos boys. first time ever posting a deh fic here we go!!! its sincerely three (eventually). this chapter is Very kleinsen but i promise sincerely three is coming. (tw for arguments and aggression and panic attacks and stuff. prolly mentions of suicide/self harm in the future, but not in this chapter)
It always felt weird for Evan sit in the grocery store break room and wait for Jared. No one was in the store at 12 A.M. No one worked the night shift but Jared, and Evan knew that, so he'd sneak into the staff break room with the key Jared (very illegally) provided him with in case of emergencies. Emergencies, Evan had decided, could be considered anything causing Evan so much distress that he needed face-to-face consolation.
At 10 P.M., Evan was having trouble falling asleep. At 11 P.M., Evan decided he wasn't going to sleep that night. Within the next half hour, he was pulling a jacket over his pajamas and trudging out to his mom's pathetic excuse for a minivan. If he wasn't going to sleep, he could at least spend the next few hours with his best friend.
The break room felt so eerie with no one but Evan occupying it. Circular, grey tables stood accompanied by their matching chairs, vacant of anyone to fill the seats. Evan watched them carefully, convinced they’d move if he gave them too much leeway. When he was all alone in the break room, Evan felt like he was in a different dimension; one slightly altered, where there was the chance that chairs might move if not kept under surveillance. Maybe he was just sleep-deprived.
“Evan?”
Suddenly, the spell was broken and he was looking up at Jared with saucer-sized eyes. Jared was leaning against the door frame, looking at Evan skeptically. Jared took Evan’s silence as an invitation to keep talking as he strode into the room with a tactfully nonchalant hand in his back pocket. Always casual, disinterested Jared. Never too attached until Evan looked up at him with sleepy puppy-dog eyes. Jared gave him a small, wry smile, but the concern sat heavy between his eyebrows. “Everything okay?”
Evan nodded clumsily, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment before forcing himself to speak. “Couldn’t sleep.” Jared placed a hand on Evan’s shoulder and the tension staking his spine dissolved. He leaned into the comforting weight of Jared’s hand, which was now giving Evan’s shoulder gentle squeezes. “Sorry, I guess it wasn’t really an emergency--”
“Nah, you’re cool,” Jared reassured him with such little thought that Evan thought his heart might burst. It was so easy to be friends with Jared. It was so easy to let his shoulders slump and put his anxiety on pause for a few hours.
Evan’s smile was stiff only due to lack of practice. The motion was genuine, though, and he reluctantly drew away from Jared’s touch so he could stand up. “Cool.”
“C’mon, store’s pretty much deserted. My shift’s over in, like, half an hour anyway."
Evan knew that, but didn’t say anything. It might have been creepy that he knew Jared’s work schedule so well, but he’d rather be a little creepy to himself than a lot creepy to whatever poor soul caught him sitting in the break room for an hour before realizing Jared wasn’t working that night.
His hands twitched. Bad thoughts. Those weren’t allowed in the grocery store. It was a rule Evan set up for himself. No crazy hypotheticals, no panic attacks, no self-deprecation (except in the form of jokes that made Jared’s lips press together to suppress a snort). The stillness of the empty grocery store was the one place Evan allowed himself total peace of mind. No one really came around in the early hours of the morning, despite the store being open 24/7. Not that Evan was complaining. Having the store entirely at Evan and Jared's disposal was strangely exhilarating.
“Don’t you have a job to do?” Evan demanded, quirking an amused eyebrow at how Jared was guiding Evan through the store with seemingly no destination.
Jared cracked his first grin of the night. “Evan Hansen,” he gasped in mock offense. “Do I look like the kind of man who gives in to the clutches of capitalism?”
“No,” Evan admitted. “You look like a twink who works at an Easy Mart and is about to get his ass fired.”
Now Jared was laughing, elbowing Evan in the ribs as affectionately as he could. “Shut up, asshole.” As they rounded the turn from one row of shelves to the next, the pair was met with an abandoned shopping cart, idling at the beginning of an aisle.
“Are you gonna put that awa-- Jared!”
Jared was climbing into the cart. It wobbled dangerously as he struggled to sling his short legs over the side, but once he was in, Jared turned back to Evan with an expectant expression.
There was no way Evan was going to push Jared down the aisle. It was too dangerous! Jared could get hurt, they could knock a whole shelf over! “Absolutely not,” Evan said firmly. Jared’s bottom lip dipped into a pout and he fluttered his eyelashes. Evan crossed his arms like a self-defense mechanism, but he could feel himself already wavering. “N-No way! It’s a terrible idea--”
“Please?” Jared purred, and Evan was done for.
With a huff, Evan uncrossed his arms and placed his hands firmly on the shopping cart’s handle bar. “Fine,” he conceded shortly. “But when you fall out and break your arm, I am so not signing your cast.”
“That’s such a low bl-- OH MY GOD!” In the middle of his sentence, Evan shoved the cart as hard as he could and sent Jared barreling down the aisle. Jared’s instinctive screaming soon dissolved into laughter and for a moment, Evan thought it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
That was until Jared crashed into a self checkout machine and the cart toppled over.
Evan’s mouth filled with apologies as he scrambled over to Jared, who was still grinning. “Oh my God, Jarebear, I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect it to-- I just thought-- Are you okay?”
Jared’s hand found Evan’s bicep, seemingly to steady himself until he gave it a squeeze. “Dude, you’re ripped.”
Unable to tell if it was a compliment or flirting, Evan opted to hide his face against Jared’s shoulder in response to that comment. Jared moved his hand from Evan’s bicep to the back of his neck, fiddling idly with the soft hair there. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Might’ve broke the checkout thing, though.”
Evan giggled into the fabric of Jared’s uniform and, rather than pulling away, nestled closer. He was starting to get sleepy and Jared rhythmically combing his fingers through his hair wasn’t helping. It was only after Jared’s hand stilled did Evan realize someone was in the store with them. Immediately, he sat up, face flushing at the intimate state he and Jared had been caught in.
In the most unfortunate turn of events, the people who caught Jared and Evan’s cuddle session were none other than the Murphy siblings.
“What the fuck are you two doing?” demanded the eldest of the pair, Connor. Evan couldn’t give a specific reason for why he hated Connor Murphy so much. He just really, really hated Connor Murphy. He was so stuck up, so rich, so ungrateful for everything his parents did for him. He thought he was better than everyone else and still had the nerve to be self-deprecating. It was infuriating.
Unfazed, Jared scooted away from Evan and stood up. “Hello, welcome to Easy Mart. How can I help you?” he deadpanned, clearly not interested in helping either Murphy sibling one bit. Evan followed suit, standing and hauling the shopping cart upright with him.
“I didn’t know you worked here,” Zoe commented lightly, her cheeks flushed a soft pink, as if she’d just caught Evan and Jared having sex.
Jared gestured to his own chest, which bore an Easy Mart vest and matching ‘Hi, my name is: JARED’ pin. “Whatever would give you that idea?”
Evan shifted uncomfortably at Jared's side. "Wh-Why are you guys here?"
Apparently displeased that Evan had opened his mouth, Connor sneered. "What? Are we not allowed to shop here now that you and the missus have decided this is your property?"
"Connor found a cat!" Zoe interjected abruptly. Connor shot her a death glare, but she didn't falter. "A little stray kitten walked up to him while he was outside and we came here to buy it food."
As adorable as it sounded, Evan couldn't allow himself to think about Connor Murphy petting a kitten. "Oh. That's--"
“But, of course, you two have to be here,” Connor interrupted, clearly flustered. “Easy Mart is apparently the only place that lets its employees make out with their boyfriends on the job.” The thought of Jared being his boyfriend sent heat to Evan’s cheeks and a shiver up his spine.
Noticing his discomfort, Zoe surprisingly came to Evan’s rescue. “Shut up, Connor, you work at 7/11.”
Connor scoffed, affronted that his sister would compare him to the likes of Jared Kleinman. “I’m just saving up money so I can get out of our fucking hell house as soon as I graduate.” Zoe made a similarly offended noise and the siblings’ words dissolved into overlapping arguments.
It was uncomfortable to watch. Evan pressed closer to Jared as a means of comfort, who placed a hand on Evan’s bicep again. However, it was a gentler gesture -- one to keep him tethered in place instead of drifting into a more panicked mindset. “Could you guys not air out your dysfunctional family laundry right in front of us, maybe?” Evan whispered to Jared, who rewarded him with a snort.
Evan wondered if the small noise of approval was worth it when Connor’s eyes were suddenly trained on him. The siblings’ argument was forgotten as Connor stalked up to Evan. Though he was only an inch or two taller, Connor seemed to loom menacingly over Evan. “What was that, Hansen?”
All pride abandoned, Evan immediately shrunk into himself. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t-- I was-- You were just--”
“Oh, I was ‘just’? Just what, huh? Was I bothering you? Well, maybe it bothers me when I walk into a grocery store to find you and Kleinman making out on the fucking floor!”
“We weren’t making out!” Evan suddenly exclaimed, the near-screaming height of his voice shutting even Connor up. Unfortunately, Evan didn’t know when to shut up until it was too late. “Friends can be affectionate with each other! Not that you’d know, since you’ve got no friends and you wouldn’t know mutual affection if it hit you over the fucking head!”
Evan clasped a hand over his own mouth, as if he could somehow put the words back inside. Connor was stunned only for a moment before he shoved Evan, sending the latter stumbling backwards. “You don’t know shit about me, Hansen! You think you’re so fucking smart with your little comments, don’t you?”
“Stop--”
“Don’t you?”
“N-No--!”
“Fuck you!”
“Connor, that’s enough,” Jared suddenly intruded, pushing Connor back enough so he could wedge himself between he and Evan. “Get out.”
Connor wavered, debating whether he should keep arguing. He seemed to decide that it wasn’t worth it. “Fuck you guys,” he muttered once more before storming out of the store.
Zoe looked utterly exhausted. “I’m so sorry about--”
“Hey, it’s alright,” Jared assured her quickly. “D’you need me to drive you home?”
Zoe Murphy was the exact opposite of her brother. She had the prettiest smile Evan had ever seen. Her hair was soft and her cheeks were rosy. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and shook her head. “No, no. I should go calm him down… Thanks, though. Really.” She meant it. Evan could tell. “I’ll, um--” she mustered a crooked smile. “I’ll see you guys around.” She turned to leave, but hesitated, sending the boys another glance. "He's trying," she added, almost vacantly. So tired. "He's trying to get better. I'm really sorry about him."
Then she was gone.
Once Zoe left, Evan broke down. So much for his “no panic attacks” rule. Jared’s arms were sturdy around him, and clutching the back of his Easy Mart vest kept Evan from drowning in his own hysteria. Jared shushed Evan whenever he tried to babble out some incoherent apology. A hand was back in Evan’s hair and it made Evan double over into another fit of sobs from the genuineness of the gesture. “I got you,” Jared promised. “I’m right here.”
Evan was so lucky.
Once he was run dry of tears and utterly exhausted, Evan mumbled that he’d like to go home now, please. “Where’s your car?” he asked once they’d shuffled out into the parking lot.
Jared shrugged. “I was gonna take an Uber. C’mon, I’ll drive you home.” So, so lucky. Evan furled his hand into the fabric of Jared’s jacket, which had taken the place of the Easy Mart vest. “Tired?” Jared asked in response to Evan yawning into his hand. His eyebrow was quirked and his smirk was crooked, but it was overwhelmingly comforting.
Evan nodded, jerky and deliberate, much like a toddler. He climbed into the passenger seat while Jared took the wheel. As soon as he was in the comfort of his mother’s minivan, Evan slumped against the door and rested his head against the window. It was so dark outside. Evan peered over at Jared, who was illuminated by the sickly yellow car light.
“What’re you staring at?” Jared’s voice was so sweet. Evan could hardly breathe.
“Nothing.”
Jared shook his head and reached over for Evan’s hand. Evan gave it to him. He couldn’t imagine a scenario where he wouldn’t give Jared his hand.
“You’re such a weirdo.” There was no venom in the statement. It didn’t sting. Jared squeezed Evan’s hand. It was suddenly a lot less dark outside. “Let’s get you home, Ev."
#deh#dear evan hansen#sincerely three#kleinsen#tree bros#conman#kleinphy#evan hansen#connor murphy#jared kleinman#zoe murphy#deh fanfic#my writing#sincerelyme.txt
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Why Him? | Ransom Drysdale | Part 17
A/N: 5 MORE PARTS LEFT! A short chapter again. Hope you guys still love it.
Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than my Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3. However, reblogs are welcome.
Why Him? MASTERLIST
Warning: light smut, fluff
Claudia’s POV
“So what are your plans for tonight?” Lucy asks as i gather my stuff to head out. “Well, me and Ransom are gonna cook and i’ve invited my parents over to meet him. He doesn’t know about that part yet though” i give her a worried look. Nervous about catching him off guard.
“I reckon you should just tell him, you never know how he will react to them just showing up unexpectedly” she suggests and i agree with her.
“I just hope he won’t be mad that i didn’t give him a prior warning. I only sent my mom the text this morning when i got here” she looks like she’s worried for me. “It’ll be fine, stop stressing missy” she warns and i giggle.
We walk out and head to the car park together to our cars.
“You’ll have to fill me in tomorrow. Good luck. Love you” she hugs me and blows me a kiss as we get into our cars and drive off. Right, i need to tell him when i get home.
“Honey. I’m home” i call out “I like the sound of that” he comes out of the lounge, picking me up to kiss me and then putting me down.
“How was work?” i sigh “meetings after meetings, the usual. Just more organising for the next Vogue party” i explain. “Right, let me get changed and then we can get started on dinner” i stand on my tip toes to kiss his cheek before running upstairs.
I change into some booty shorts and a tank top and head back down, tying my hair in a pony tail as i go.
“Okay i’m back, let’s get started then shall we?” we begin making the pasta and he’s picking it all up very quickly. Surprisingly he’s almost doing a better job than me the first time i cooked. Emphasis on almost.
“Now we’ve got it into spaghetti, we need to cook it. The kettle has boiled so pour the water into the pot and turn the stove on” he does as i ask, salting the water without me instructing.
“Okay, now let’s place it in slowly” he lowers the pasta into the pot, letting it cook on a medium heat.
Soon enough it’s done and we place it into the dish and start adding the sauce that’s been simmering on another part of the stove. “Mhm spaghetti carbonara, my favourite” i lick my lips as he pours the sauce over the pasta, stirring it all together.
“That’s not the only thing that looks appetising” he jokes and i shove him playfully. He turns away from me then all of a sudden i get a big load of flour in my face. “BABE” i scream, throwing some back at him.
���Stop” he chuckles “you’re so gonna get it” we start a flour fight and when we eventually stop, we look down at ourselves. We are one big mess.
I’m stuck between the kitchen counter and Ransom, his arms either side of me, blocking my exit. He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, staring down at me with eyes filled with happiness.
“God i love you” my heart starts beating really fast. He feels it too
“I love you too”
His lips crash to mine and this time instead of it getting heated, it’s slow and passionate. We start undressing each other, only breaking the kiss to take our shirts off. He picks me up, carrying me to the living room and setting himself down on the couch once we are fully naked. I straddle him and immediately lower myself down onto his dick.
“Fuck” he groans as i start bouncing up and down slowly, wrapping his arms around my body and pulling me closer to his chest.
“Oh god” i moan, throwing my head back in pure ecstasy. This isn’t like the normal sex that we have. This was simply two people making love. I’m feeling him and seeing him in a whole new way.
“Cum with me princess” my bounces getting quicker and quicker. Chasing our peaks together. It doesn’t take long, it’s only a short amount of time before we both reach them. My back arches and i feel him twitch inside of me, bringing my orgasm on. This feels incredible. I sit there for a couple of minutes, admiring him.
“I’ve been sitting on those words for days, wasn’t sure if you’d say them back” he admits, i lift his head up so he’s looking at me. “I’ve been doing the same thing” we both smile, leaning our foreheads together.
“I mean it though, i’m madly in love with you Ransom Drysdale” those words falling from my mouth feel so right. I’ve never been happier. I can see him go all shy.
“I love you too Claudia Taylor. Let’s get cleaned up” he picks me up, still inside of me and he carries me to the shower.
Ransom’s POV
Once we change, i hear the door knock.
“Don’t be mad at me, I invited my parents round for dinner. So they could meet you” her face screws up. “Why would i be mad? I mean i could have used some warning but i can’t wait to meet them” I head down before her to let them in.
“You must be Mr and Mrs Taylor. I’m Ransom, it’s so nice to meet you” they both smile at me as i shake her dads hand and hug her mom.
“You look even better than the picture i saw and please call us Michelle and Phil” she insists and we make our way to the table in the kitchen, i pull the chair out for her mom and she chuckles at the act of chivalry.
I head into the kitchen to help Claudia “You go sit down, i’ll bring the food in” i try to shove her away but she doesn’t budge.
“I’ll take the drinks in, i’m not having you do it all” she waves me off as she takes the tray in with glasses of red wine on. “Dad, did you want a non-alcoholic drink?” he shakes his head. “We got a cab here so we could drink. Bring the wine on” she rolls her eyes as she smiles, handing them the glasses.
She takes her seat and i bring out the food, two plates at a time. I’ll admit that i’m nervous. I worry that they won’t approve because i don’t currently have a job and i never have but i hope they can see that i’m more than capable of making their daughter happy and that i can support her.
“So... Ransom, Claudia told me that your grandfather is Harlan Thrombey” Michelle mentions and i nod, leaning back in my chair. “Yeah he is” i respond as i place my hand around Claudia. “You a fan?” i ask, sipping my wine, she nods.
“Absolutely, we’ve read a lot of his books. We’d love to meet him” Phil adds and we begin a discussion about them.
Claudia’s POV
“This food is incredible, you always were quite the cook growing up. Glad to see you’ve not lost your touch” i place my hand over Ransom’s, flashing him a quick smile.
“Actually dad, Ransom is behind all of his. I shadowed over him but i’d say he’s almost as good of a cook as i am, considering it was his first time”
“We second that” they look to Ransom
“Well thank you son, you did good” son? SON? My dad has never called any of my boyfriends son before. He must really approve.
This seems to be going well. I get up and help my mom clear the table, leaving the two men to talk some more.
“So what do you think?” i place the dishes into the sink, nudging my mom.
“I love him sweetheart, i can tell your dad does too” a sigh of relief comes out of my mouth as i start getting ready to clean the dishes.
“You love him?” i don’t have to say anything, just grin. “Yes” she gives me a soft smile back. “I can tell, he feels the same. It’s obvious” we are soon interrupted by my dad and Ransom.
“Leave that doll i’ll do it” Ransom pulls me away from the sink.
“See, he even offers to clear up after” my mom comments and we all laugh.
“It was so nice to meet you both” Ransom shakes my dads hand, hugging my mom afterwards. “It was nice to meet you too. I don’t doubt that you make our little girl very happy” we stand at the door to say goodbye to them and once the door is shut, Ransom gives my ass a little slap as i walk back to the kitchen.
“They love you” he smirks “Well i love them too” i walk towards the sink but he pulls me away again. “I don’t think so, i’ll do it. You go get ready for bed princess” can he get any better? I do as i’m told and head up to put my pyjamas on. I go round the house to lock up and go back to bed to wait for Ransom.
“I was so nervous tonight” he confesses “really? Why?” he starts undressing
“I know that family is very important to you and i was worried they wouldn’t like me” he gets in once he’s fully naked.
“Well, it’s safe to say that they love you. Tonight couldn’t have gone better” he kisses my forehead. I rest my head on his chest and he wraps his arms around me. We lie there just talking away for a while.
“You know, i’m so glad you came into my life. I really do love you, i mean it” he places a kiss to my head. “I know, i feel the same. I’m glad you said yes to that first date. I love you too doll”
I can’t believe he feels the same. I knew he really liked me but him admitting he loves me is even better. I will never grow tired of hearing him say those 3 words. I couldn’t be happier.
#ransomdrysdale#ransom drysdale#ransom thrombey fluff#ransom drysdale smut#hugh ransom drysdale#hugh ransom drysdale smut#hugh ransom drysdale fluff#knives out#ransom drysdale x reader#chrisevans smut#chris evans#chris evans smut#chrisevanssmut#chrisevans
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The Connor Project: American Tour (Chapter One)
Warnings: Swearing
Word Count: 1,461
Summary: Girl goes to the mall. Girl reconnects with high school friend during suicide awareness concert. High school friend offers girl a spot on the tour bus. Girl agrees because of cute boy. Cute boy has a girlfriend. Five young adults drive through the US. What could go wrong? Hopefully the author will come up with a better summary for the next chapter. Established Evan/Zoe. Leading up to Evan/OC.
Chapter 1: Let’s Go to the Mall
It was a simple mission: Get in. Get a black shirt. Get out. Claire sighed, frustrated with herself for spilling pasta sauce on yet another collared shirt at work. The Olive Garden had an easier uniform than most and while the stains certainly didn’t show, Claire was too exhausted to do laundry every night (especially since the laundry room in her apartment building was a bit spooky). Having a fourth shirt in the rotation would lengthen the time between washes and maybe give Claire that extra amount of sleep needed to keep herself from being as clumsy as she was.
But like many of Claire’s projects and day-to-day activities, she soon faced distractions. For example, her best friend from her old high school kept texting her.
Al the Pal: Heyyy Claire! You’re never gonna guess where I am!
Al the Pal: Okay, since you’re not responding, I’m assuming it’s taking you some thought figure it out.
Al the Pal: Okay, you better not have blocked me after the Jello incident of 2013.
Al the Pal: Girl.
Al the Pal: I’M IN YOUR TOWN! Text me ASAP.
God, she really hadn’t changed since the last time they were together. Claire loved Al, but life had gotten too hard and she didn’t want to hold back her Ivy League bound friend. They still stayed in touch, but it was usually the Instagram comment or DM message here or there. It was rare to get a text, never mind several, unless Al was really excited about something. But why would she be here in September? Doesn’t she have college orientation? Come to think of it, Claire hadn’t had the time to check Facebook or anything that would update her on her friend’s future. She made a mental note to log on later. Spotting the J. C. Penney, Claire picked up the pace to the store. Maybe if I make this trip quick enough, I can grab some food from the food court.
Thirteen minutes later, Claire was making her way to the food court. But strangely, the relatively half-full mall was packed around a decent-sized stage set up right next to the food court. It was hard to see through the crowd, but it sounded like a Christian teen group singing. Claire tried to push through to the food court on the right, but soon stopped when she heard a familiar voice.
“There’s a place where we don’t have to feel unknown. And every time that you call out, you’re a little less alone!” Almost immediately as she turned her head toward the stage. There was her childhood friend Alana Beck looking as passionate as usual on the electric keyboard. Claire then started taking in the other members on stage. Was that Jared Kleinman on the drums, the kid who once got kicked out of her freshman health class for refusing to refer to the male genitalia as its scientific term (“what do you mean I’m not allowed to refer to the penis as a sex sword?). She recognized Zoe Murphy playing the electric violin, a step up from their days together in the middle school band with plastic instruments. There were a few other instrument players who looked older; Claire didn’t think they went to her old school. They looked like actual band members. Inevitably, the blonde’s eyes drifted to the boy center stage, gripping the microphone tightly like he was trying not to lose his balance in a subway car. He looked familiar; the sweaty upper lip, the tight nervous smile, the blue striped shirt. She couldn’t put a name or voice to the face though. His voice was rather beautiful though as he sang the last line.
“You will be found.” His words gave Claire a genius idea. With a mischievous smile, she took her phone out of her back pocket and finally responded to Alana’s texts, the crowd roaring around her.
Claire Bear: Heyyy Alana! You’re never gonna guess where I am!
Claire Bear: I’ll give you a hint: You have been found.
As she tried to make her way towards the front of the stage, the cheering audience resisted, trying to nudge or elbow her back. Claire persevered, shoving her way to the side of the stage. Before she could call for Alana, her foot caught on something, possibly the wheel of the nearby Annie’s cart. The clumsy blonde began hurtling towards the ground when someone caught her, their hands rough on her. As they helped her back to her feet, Claire soon recognized the smirk and nearly laughed out loud.
“Woah there, M’lady. Looks like you were falling for me for a second there!” Almost immediately, Alana rushed over to Claire’s rescue, rolling her eyes.
“Jared! Don’t hit on her. She’s not gonna react like your little fan girls!” Jared took a step back to get a good look at the blonde, nodding in approval.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Dossett the Vet? Where did you run off to last year? I was gonna ask you to the Prom!” Claire laughed at the old nickname, shrugging off the strong emotions associated with the events of last year.
“You know I would have said no. Besides, Al here was a more organized date anyhow!” At the mention of her nickname, Alana reached over to hug her old friend.
“Where have you been? I’ve texted you several hundred times, Claire!” The blonde shrugged, ruffling Alana’s hair playfully.
“I work at the Olive Garden now. It’s a very demanding job. I work forty hours a week plus overtime to earn minimum wage plus tips!” Alana gasped, suddenly coming up with a better idea.
“Zo and Evan! Get your lovebird asses over here!” Sure enough, Zoe and the lead singer wandered over holding hands. When he saw you, his grip slipped.
“S-sorry, sweaty-“
“I know babe, your hands get sweaty,” Zoe quipped, her attention hyper-focused on the other three.
“So you know that while I’ve been the sole soul keeping the website for the Connor Project up to date and everything, we’ve been having some issues with our social media pages run by our very own Jared Kleinman,” Alana began as everyone looked pointedly at the aforementioned Jewish dork. He shrugged.
“Hey, you wanted a cool Instagram, right? The meme machine is still on it!” He finger-gunned, but only Evan half-hearted gestured back. Alana rolled her eyes, continuing her speech.
“Anyway, so Jared and I could really use some help on the online front. We could spend hours and days posting flyers, reading applications, interviewing strangers. Or… we could vote to accept Claire Dossett, high school friend of most of us, into the ranks effective immediately?” The applicant in question’s mouth dropped a little, shocked at the sudden impulse of her usually methodical best friend.
“Alana’s right as usual. I’m cool with Claire,” Zoe announced, flashing a grin to finally acknowledge the blonde band geek she remembered.
“Only if majority rules,” Jared decided with a smug smile, glancing over at his hopelessly awkward and anxious male companion. As Evan began sweating and stuttering, Claire instantly remembered Evan Hansen, the sweet but terribly anxious boy in her public speaking class junior year. Still cute.
“I v-vote with Zoe. She can s-stay, stay here with us! That is if-f-f she wants to? She never exactly s-s-said yes, so I guess it’s up t-t-to her? I mean, I want her to s-stay. Not in a weird way… just in a not mean way because I think you’d be a good f-fit for the job?” Evan covered his face with his hands, clearly embarrassed. Claire’s heart went out to him; he was clearly struggling. Everyone turned their attention to the blonde, anticipating her decision. She smiled at all of them gently, sighing in disbelief before she took out her cell phone.
“I guess I’ll call my manager right now and tell him I’m not doing my 10-7 shift tomorrow!” Alana clapped giddily, immediately drawing up plans for the new sleeping arrangements. Zoe and Jared scampered off to help the band put the equipment away, Zoe patting Jared on the back as he muttered: “but now the boy-girl ratio is uneven.” As Claire dialed the memorized phone number one last time and pressed the phone to her ear, she caught Evan’s eye. His lips parted for a moment until his brain caught up with him, forcing his eyes to her all-black sneakers. The blonde quietly smiled to herself; perhaps this spontaneous life decision would work out after all. But as her boss answered the phone, it suddenly hit her: am I gonna get paid for this?
(Author’s Note: Let me know if I should keep this going. I tagged the two people who liked the post I made about this fic. If you guys want off, just hit me a DM, I won’t take it too personally. I was thinking of also publishing on AO3 once my invitation is processed. The link will be put here x.)
Tag List:
@thequeenhaslanded, @liyahisdabomb
#dear evan hansen#dear evan hansen au#deh#dear evan hansen fanfic#evan hansen#zoe murphy#alana beck#jared kleinman#the connor project#the connor project american tour#evan hansen x zoe murphy#evan x zoe#evan x oc#evan hansen x oc#evan hansen x original character#fanfiction#my work#broadway#tony awards#dear evan hansen imagine#dear evan hansen x reader
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