#until dawn how i didnt appreciate you
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Until Dawn choices be like: hold your controller still and you'll be good 👍
The Quarry choices be like: if you throw dirt at this man you could very well die 💀
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DECEMBER PROMPTS 🧊 — 3. MICHAEL “MIKEY” BERZATTO
A/N: I want to attempt to make this a bit lighter but with the way the bear is set up? Happiness is a process. 🥂 Also this takes place BEFORE 7 fishes? Maybe a year or two prior, so thats probably six or seven years ago from now? The timeline isn’t overly important with this show so whatever your brain feels is cool with me! Also decided to do this in headcanon/note form this time around because things are definitely about to get hectic for me. Merry Christmas Eve or Happy Holidays to you all! 🫶🏽 hope its filled with nothing but greatness + all things that are lovely and not chaos.
PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + I’m using: SCENARIO — 4.) Decorating the tree + DIALOGUE — 2.) “You know what they say, don’t eat yellow snow.”
<- read my previous December anthology prompt here.
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Michael Berzatto always loved cold weather and sure his birthday happened to always fall on a brutal cold day… he always put more effort into everyone else’s.
It’s something he’s always done and maybe it had to do with his childhood where most birthdays his own parents forgot about it, treating it as any other day because that’s simply how they viewed their own and wouldn’t even get him a card at least.
He grew up fast and pushed those terrible feelings as far down as they could go and focused on caring for everyone else.
Lucky for him, he had his younger siblings that always managed to put a smile on his face, showing him that they wouldn’t ever forget
and a shit eating grin would also appear thanks to his best friend Richie who always showed up with packs of beer and encouragement to head out to a strip joint but somehow Tiffany always figured out that plan!
a gallon of warmth poured into his chest when you would call him at midnight or the break of dawn, wanting to be the first to send him well wishes for another year.
You were always something special to Michael.
Which is why on the morning of November 15th, he showed up to your place, just to tell you later that you were going tree hunting while he went down to Chicagoland to get the rest of his hours in.
He heard how bummed out you were about your boyfriend not being in town (yet again) to go get a tree for the place you moved into back in July.
Michael didn’t particularly hate the guy but he also felt like he didnt care enough as much as he should with someone like you.
He was always elsewhere and Michael was just praying that he didn’t ask you to marry him and call it selfish but he didn’t see a glimmer in your eyes when you looked at the guy.
Michael felt like you two were just dating out of convenience—until you both found better, which YOU would but you didn’t seem to see that.
Which of course sparked arguments and the guy walked in on that argument, demanding to know what was going on and you didn’t want to escalate the situation so you sent a warning glance for Michael not to take it there.
He never listened.
A ban from the house was laughable to Michael because who tf did this guy think he was to tell him to stay away from his best friend’s house? He maybe “the man,” of the house but he wasn’t man enough to love you. You have to show you care in a relationship and put in the work and this guy wasn’t it. You were an after thought and that pissed Michael off.
and he didn’t give a shit if the guy was 6’6 and built like a linebacker, it was fair game in mike’s eyes! Michael would say what he felt and he was super protective over you—which you appreciated but not in that moment.
Before hands could ever go flying and out of the respect he has for you, he said his peace and left the home—since thats what you wanted…with the both of you not speaking for a week—which was painful.
And also painful to Richie’s ears because Mikey wouldn’t shut up about it!
You as a topic? Was never on the low.
“Are you finally gonna admit to the audience that you’re sweet on them, Mikey Boy!?” The amusement was clear in Richie’s piercing blues and Michael was tempted to smack it right off.
“Shut your mouth and get back to work, ya bastard!”
Michael knew the guy talked shit about him behind his back but regardless Michael was in your life WAAAY before this guy was even a factor! He wasn’t going anywhere,, unless you told him to but he hoped that never happened.
Your boyfriend didn’t like how you kept Michael around but he knew how to put on a mask too, being a FBI agent and all that, which means he was hardly around anyway so…that gave Michael more time with you in the end, which definitely made your boyfriend more irritated when he bothered to check in from work!
Michael found it funny that your boyfriend thought he was doing something by flying back to Indiana with you to spend (the controversial holiday) thanksgiving with your dad, step-mother, and half-siblings just to disappear again into his work as soon as the both of you returned to chicago.
While he was off on a case, Michael was there taking on the failed promises, which included: tree shopping.
Having a hybrid schedule, working as a publisher and just starting a meeting with a client, you were caught off guard the morning Michael greeted you on your front steps on HIS birthday.
He was all grins and barely in the appropriate wear for the approaching winter but fr! a hoe never gets cold you know? “You asked what i feel like doing for my birthday, right sweetheart? Spending it with you doll face and gettin’ us a tree, how’s that sound?”
You can can barely get any words out due to being on a call but a sweet smile that actually matched your eyes was enough confirmation—although it was on the tip of your tongue to argue, Michael took that to his advantage that you couldn’t in that moment.
Which didn’t mean you wouldn’t hammer him with texts a little later—but Michael sucked at texting so your attempts would probably go unseen anyway.
It was around six, you just got off thirty minutes ago and went to freshen up, ready to text Michael when he’s already at your door, keys in hand, shining teeth of a smile, your favorite sandwich in hand: a wrapped Porchetta, chicken parm, or a caprese sandwich (if you don’t eat meat) ready for you to eat on the go, since the farm closes at eight-thirty and the drives about thirty to forty-five minutes depending on the traffic…
Michael’s got terrible road rage and hates traffic but you’re not the best driver when the sky falls so you have no choice this evening but…he’s at ease with you on the passenger side.
He’s telling you entertaining stories as you eat and when you’re done, he’s asking for your review—although it’s your favorite sandwich so of course it’s going to be highly rated! but he just likes to hear you talk about the things you enjoy
he’s interested in your day since your work days are completely different and he’s not afraid to give his opinions if the author you’re working with sounds like an asshole.
Shopping with you can sometimes take forever but Michael doesn’t seem to mind. If you’re looking for the perfect tree, even if it’s ugly as hell, you’re gonna get the damn tree.
He’s used to artificial trees because the real one his family had after he just turned fifteen, his ma threw a lit cigarette at once, unbeknownst to the rest of the berzatto family, almost burning it to a crisp as she whipped around to yell at a seven year old Sugar about something, so his dad swore off “spending his hard earned money for Donna to ruin,” leaving Michael to stop looking forward to Christmas trees
Yet he was here on his birthday with you, happy to be here and help you find whatever you needed.
“What about that one?” You pointed at what would probably be the eighth one, if Michael thought to keep count.
He can’t help it—
He glances over his shoulders and scowls, “looks like uncle Lee, fucking balding in the middle.”
“Michael!”
“Wha? Am I wrong?! I’m just sayin, sweetheart…if you love that one, I’ll like it.” Michael raised his hands in surrender while you huffed, rolled your eyes and spun on your flats, diving in between a row of fully stocked trees.
Eventually you find a wide white spruce tree that the both you felt strongly about to bring back home
and the man is willing to throw his back out for you, getting it up your steep front steps, not allowing you to help him one bit, which is frustrating for you ofc.
Once positioned in your living room, just the way you want it, Michael wipes the back of his hand against his forehead dramatically.
“What would you like to drink?”
“I’m fine. Just gonna get some air, then when I get back we’ll discuss when you want to decorate it, yeah?”
You shake your head at Michael while he heads back to the front of the house through the screened in entrance before entering November’s air.
When he’s taking longer than expected, you go hunting for him just to flail around on some black ice after stepping down from the last step but manage to somewhat catch yourself on the railing.
Thankful for a bruise rather than a broken tailbone, you curse to yourself as the throbbing pain shoots down your femur.
And surely, Michael fucking berzatto appears from the shadows to assist you, “hey! whatcha doin’ down there?”
“I slipped on some stupid black ice…where were you?”
“You sure it wasn’t the yellow snow?”
“The what?” You exasperate as Michael guides you to your feet.
Michael points at the spot to the right of your front lawn and you scowl as he says, “you know what they say, don’t eat yellow snow!”
He laughs but stops short as you cut your eyes at him, “did you come out here to piss on my lawn when there’s two bathroom’s inside?”
Michael scoffs, “don’t go pointin’ fingers at me because you busted your ass. That ain’t my fault babe and you know I wouldn’t do that! I told you that was Richie’s drunk ass.”
Sighing you rub at your sore thigh, “I still owe him a kick in the ass for that.”
“Yeah you do,” Michael smirks as the both of you move to head back inside, “despite that, it was good house warming.”
You nod as you’re back inside the warmth of your new home and rest against the couch while Michael’s back to analyzing the tree you picked. “Hey, I’ve got you something.”
Michael shakes his head although a twitch of a grin is there,“I told you that you didn’t need to get me anything.”
“Shush,” you held up your hand at the man who raised his brows at you, “it’s nothing crazy but it’s in the fridge.”
He sighs at you but goes to your bright yellow kitchen nonetheless. Michael always gets caught up standing in your kitchen, just imagining all the meals he could get up to in here since it seems so bright and welcoming yet empty.
You were more of a breakfast person which is why he was always down to go to diners because of you, whereas he was more a lunch person because of his old man, hence why Chicagoland was a deli spot but Michael was okay with shifting his ways for you.
When he opens your fridge, he scans through it, easily picking up on what items belongs to your macho boyfriend and scoffs to himself before spotting a medium sized box tucked in the back of the fridge.
“Did you find it, Mikey?” You call out to your friend who latches onto the box, kneeing the fridge closed before making his way back into the living room.
He plops down on the couch next to you, eyeing you while you smile over at him patiently waiting.
“Here goes nothing,” Michael quietly says before pulling the top back to eye the mold of the zuccotto, “…you fucking didn’t.”
“I did,” you nod before explaining, “I thought about making one but I also didn’t want to disappoint you and then I remembered you’ve been wanting to try that bakery that’s here on my side of town, so I made a call and hope you like it.”
Michael swallows the lump in his throat at the gesture. He can’t remember the last time someone’s got him a cake but this wasn’t just some simple task. This was important because this means you listened.
You listened to how he told you that his nonna used to call him, “pumpkin bear,” because he was chunky and the shade of a Orange left in the sunlight fresh out the womb and that she made the best zuccotto he’s ever had and never tried anyone else’s since she’s passed.
Not even his ma could touch his nonna’s but he would never tell the woman that!
“The bakery’s a combined Italian-French place which they don’t really advertise until you’re actually inside but the little elderly lady who made it was the cutest thing and I thought you’d probably trust her.”
“I wanna kiss you on the mouth, you’re so good to me, you have no idea!” Michael pointed at you, voice thick with emotion.
This may seem small to any other but it really meant a lot and you could sense that as Michael gripped your hand to squeeze and press kisses to. “Happy birthday, Mikey.” You whisper.
Michael groans as he pinched the corners of his wet eyes for a moment, “I love you, you know?”
“I love you back,” you smile, “now can we try!?”
“Hell yeah we can but I get first bite this time.”
“I guess…it is your birthday after all.” You wink.
The taste test was so worth it, to the point Michael made it his mission to go meet the elderly woman down at her bakery during one of his breaks from the restaurant.
He shared kind words and got to know Giuseppina or “Josy,” up until the point they actually became friendly with Josy sending her husband Charles over to try what Chicagoland had to offer as well.
He had you to thank for that, reminding him of the good in his life, even what once was.
It isnt until the first week of December when Michael comes around again to decorate your tree.
“What the hell happened?” Michael quizzes you when he spots you with a brace taking up a huge portion of your thigh.
Guess that makes sense why you took so long to get the door.
You sigh, “hello to you too, Mike. Care to come in?”
“Yeah, yeah. Hi.” Michael greets, gripping your hip and pressing a kiss to your cheek before stepping into the too warm house.
You tell him you slipped again and that resulted into a bruised bone, which is less severe than a fracture and something you can heal at home with ice, and meds you wouldn’t be taking—so you’re just taking it easy.
“Why hasn’t inspector gadget put down any salt yet?” Michael commented as he shoved his thin jacket into the small closet tucked in the corner of the living room.
You have your oddly placed fireplace lit and boxes everywhere to dig through.
Sighing you plop back on the couch, “He’s busy but he brought up the decorations from the basement and I can do the salt myself.”
“Oh yeah? Why haven’t you?”
“…it’s cold.”
Michael fans his hands at you, “newsflash babe, we’re in Chicago not Kansas or wherever the hell he’s from and after we’re done tackling this tree, I’m gonna fix it.”
“Mikey—
“Did you hear what I said?”
The look he sent you with his dark eyes made you mold your lips together and cross your arms before you pushed off the couch to head over to a few of the boxes.
Michael does the honors of playing some Motown Christmas music on your tv to fill the tension, but he wouldn’t apologize for looking out for you.
The bare minimum when it comes to your boyfriend doesn’t impress him, not one bit and although you didn’t like and told Michael that you didn’t like him dragging your man, you couldn’t change Michael’s mind about him at all!
He was gonna hurt you and Michael was waiting for the asshole to just rip the band aid off or when you woke up and dumped him yourself.
Michael knew you had it in you and knew you deserved better than to just settle for what looks good on paper.
The smooth deep growl of Marvin Gaye singing, “I want to come home for Christmas,” (I heavily stand on the fact that Marvin Gaye is one of Michael’s favorite singers!) filled your home as the both of you went through the boxes, picking out your decor that brought all sorts of feelings to your frame.
You reminisced about what your life was and if your dad still had any of your old ornaments you made as a child, knowing your mother would have and what your life could be as you took your side of the tree, placing ornaments up as Michael hummed to the music.
The both of you worked in silence which wasn’t the usual although Michael was much louder than you, being quiet wasn’t the norm of your friendship.
And it wasn’t because of what Michael said to you, you weren’t that sensitive—it was you getting in your head about the holidays.
About your dad, step-mom, and siblings deciding not to speed Christmas with you like originally planned because they were going on a cruise and the possibility of your boyfriend traveling to freaking Europe around that time for work made you think about the upcoming loneliness
Yes you had another friend outside of Michael but it was just this odd feeling that you didn’t particularly want to define or gave much thought about until now…
“Hey, stop thinkin’ so hard and just be here with me, huh? Your favorite person on the planet.” Michael calls over the music, after catching you staring up at the length of the tree with one ornament still in your hand.
When your eyes meet his and that famous grin stretched over his features, you roll your eyes once you realized what he said, bringing you back into the spirit and moved around the living room in search of your stool.
Michael holds the stool until your comfortably on it before moving one hand to the small of your back to keep you stable.
When you glance back at him you state, “how do you know?”
“Know what?”
“You’re my favorite person when there’s a billion people in this place?”
“Ah, It’s all over your face! You know how they say heart on your sleeve? Well in your case, it’s on your face.” Michael comments as he holds your stare before you slowly get down to be face to face with him, “and don’t you worry, you’re mine too.” 🥹🥹🥹
You pat his jaw, “damn straight, baby. And don’t you forget it.”
“Never will,” Michael chuckles, “do I get to do the honors of putting up the star?”
You plop down on the couch, digging through what’s left in the box you were working on, “we don’t have a star.”
“…Run that by me again?” Michael turns to you.
You nod, “we wanted to do something…less traditional and it was between either a bow or what he went for…a stag.”
Michael eyes the topper and scowls as he reaches for the cream deer head, “im gonna keep my mouth shut on this one.”
“Thank you.”
“welcome.”
after awhile, Michael finds his way collapsed next to you eyeing the tree as the both of you sip at some cranberry punch you made the other day, eyeing some rosemary you had floating through it.
“It actually turned out pretty, no?” You ask, shoulder to shoulder with the bearded man.
Michael sips from the mason jar and savors the earthy tangy flavor, “best lookin’ tree I’ve ever seen!”
Resting your head against Michael’s shoulder you take in the scenery, feeling a little less alone as Michael’s lips peck your brow, reminding you that it’s best to hold onto what you have, rather than what you don’t. 
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read my final ~5 days of Xmas~ anthology prompt here.
#Spotify#queued#the bear#the bear season 2#the bear s2#the bear hulu#the bear fx#michael berzatto#Michael Mikey berzatto#Mikey berzatto#Michael berzatto x reader#Mikey berzatto x reader#december prompts#jon bernthal#donna berzatto#natalie berzatto#carmy berzatto#richie jerimovich#tiffany jerimovich
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Set Me Free - Teaser
navi - m.list
Intern!Mark Lee x Female Mermaid!Reader
wc: not yet recorded
note: Hello, my lovelies! so here is the teaser for the Mark fic i am writing. it's severely unfinished and im still rusty and crusty with my writing lol. It's based on this fic idea i had. i don't have a current date for when it'll be finished but hopefully in the coming days.
ALSO, honestly feel free to send in asks about scenarios and my fic characters. for instance 'Can you imagine Quiet!Jeno chasing after Chenle for his comment?' And for some of them i may even write a lil drabble and others i'll probably just gush about it with u.
Reblogs are appreciated, and So is feedback whether it be bad or good.
Enjoy the teaser!
Mark hated his new summer job.
The employees in the offices around him sure knew how to push his buttons. Sending Mark on a coffee run for them to then decide they miscounted. Making him fetch their lunch to then change their mind once he had already gotten to the deli. Mark had lost count of how much ‘overtime’ he had already done in just a week. He hadn’t had a single lunch break yet, opting to work through in any hope that he could leave early. Poor chance that was. SMLabatories were truly using Mark to their advantage.
Today though, Mark had barely seen a soul. It was as if his floor was a ghost town. He hadn’t had any paperwork dropped on his desks, no task list in his email either. It was only when he caught sight of Wonshik leaving his office with a styrofoam box labeled ‘HAZARD’, did Mark finally learn the reason why. Wonshik looked surprised to spot Mark at the small desk in the corridor, realization dawning on his face soon after.
“Ah, Mr.Lee. It’s a pretty big day for us, work wise, today. Our focus will be on the new subje- research project for the rest of the week - If you’ve not received a task list or anything to do, feel free to brush up on your studies.” And with that, he was gone quite quickly leaving Mark standing there with furrowed brows of confusion.
That was the nicest he had been spoken to so far... Mark had also noted that Wonshik looked nervous, jittery, and stressed. Mark just brushed it off, leaning back in his office chair to squeeze his fingers into his pocket in search of his phone. Teeth gnawed onto his bottom lip as he glanced at the time ‘12:34’. Lunchtime. Mark perked up, with no work... He could have lunch today.
At that thought, he grabbed his satchel bag and slung it over his shoulder, locking the desktop and strolling down the hallway with a newfound happiness at the thought of food. Remembering where the canteen was was a feat of its own though. He was sure there was one on this floor, He just couldn't remember where. Even if he just found a secluded space to eat his sandwich and read his Deadpool comic, Mark would count that as a win. The visitor pass around his neck swung as he walked, trying different doors with no joy. Until he stumbled across a barely lit hallway.
Mark had seen enough zombie movies to know that any corridor of a science facility that looks like this should be off limits. Still, he glanced over his shoulder for any one who may get him in trouble before turning the corner. He walked slow, footsteps a dull thud as he attempted to be as light on his feet as possible. All the doors so far were locked but Mark’s keen eye was drawn to the glowing hue emitting from a door at the end. It’s almost as if someone hadn’t fully closed the door behind them.
He crept toward it, his index and middle finger gently pushing the door the rest of the way open. He didnt spot it at first, focused on closing the door behind him without any creaks, then being distracted by the different diagrams and formulas written on a whiteboard next to the door.
Mark’s hearing heightened at the sudden sound of sloshing water. It was a gentle sound but it was enough for Mark to finally register that he wasnt alone.. That he felt like he was being studied.
“You’re new.” A quiet, melodic voice called out into the silence.
Mark was drawn to the sound, slowly turning around as if captivated. Though the colour drained from his face as he finally caught sight of the center piece of the room.
“W-What the fuck?...” He choked, feet nearly stumbling over one another to press his back against the door.
In the very center of the room sat a large rectangle tank filled with blue murky water, spilling over the edges as the occupant of the tank moved within it. Mark’s eyes were glued to the fiery orange fins and scales, as beautiful as they were, he had never seen such a thing. In place of legs, there was a thick tail with fins at the very end. The tones of orange and red complimented the person’s skin tone beautifully, shimmering in the water. Mark’s frightened, but curious, gaze drifted higher. Noting that the tail blended into a regular human torso, flawless, naked navel and he couldn’t fight the blush on his face at the white bikini top that covered you. It took him a while to register what he thought he was seeing… A..mermaid?
#Mark Lee#Nct mark#nct127#nctdream#nct dream x reader#Mark NCT dream#Mark NCT127#Mark Lee au#Intern mark#Mark#Mark college au#mermaid!reader#Mark x Mermaid!reader#Mark Lee Angst#Mark fluff#Mark fic#Mark fantasy fic#Mark drabble#Mark teaser#Mark scenario#mark lee x reader#nct#nctzen#nct dream#nct drabbles#acescavern
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Penrose: Dawning- the dev blog
Okay well my game has been up for a few days now, and the Jam is over so yeah, why not give a massive blog about it and the development and characters and feelings etc.
again this was quite a feat for me, so to say. as small as the game is. ive been struggling a ton for years and years, so the process and experience has stuck with me for the last month.
The personal
If you have followed and read some of my posts from the last month youd probably seen me talking about having seen a neurophysiologist-- my appointments for that were happening for quite a while before this month but this month was the end of it. Aside from it clearly being a huge stressor in general, it was also a huge eye opener to my problems. Which yeah, include my ability to Make Things. Not art- but everything else. The listening & reading comprehension, math and memory I tested on being really really bad. And it was great to understand that now! but having decided to take on the Jam was a lot and well, even though on one hand i felt good that I knew my issues.... it didn't mean i solved my issues. Now i was just way more away of them.
So, I tried my hardest I think because I knew I'd always give up on this stuff. And well, my mood meds were still kinda helping. I think there was a different kind of determination despite the upset that some of those tests caused me. Still, I faced a lot of anxiety, frusteration, and upsetting feelings in the process because of how hard it was for me to learn even the smallest things. I won't go super hard on that-- I just want to appreciate the small community of Narrat for being able to help and clarify my confusion even if I'd often say to myself "ugh, that was such a simple thing! i shouldnt need to get it clarified two times over!" etc etc.
still despite the variety of emotions i faced i came out of this really thinking 'wow i actually made something' because literally all these years i have never realized a larger project due to my issues. so for that i can be happy.
The development
the process of making this game was interesting because obvious i had never put my assumptions about the best way to develop to the test. i could think all the while "ill do this first, this second etc" but until you start making it you may realize you gotta do something else!
the fact this was only a month long didnt really give me much time to figure out better ways to develop, it i was already a ways into it. so i came out realizing what i could do diffferent. one thing for sure is i know i couldnt start with art. its just not possible in general to predict the art i would need clearly, because even if i were to write a lot, i felt that making dialog branches was much easier while i was coding because i never knew how far i would want them to go.
but also, in terms of writing- i already write a lot and i kinda have my mental process. getting that to work with the game was tough, and while i liked how i wrote for this game, i feel like it faltered in the sense that writing so many bits of it entirely away from each other had my struggling to make sure i felt connected. like, writing on one huge document allows me to easily refer back and having it all together makes it flow well in my head. but having them scattered around code was hard for me to track and i was never sure if it all felt like it connected up well. i also think in general if i wrote most of the important chunks- stuff not incredibly reliant on branches/choices- that i probably would have written waaaay more too. its just a format of writing that is natural.
there isnt too much as i did in the game coding wise so i dont have too many comments on development process. but i know i would like to make games in narrat that use the typical features found in games like DE (as the engine was inspired by), like stats/skills and maybe inventory depending on the thing.
The story & design
i dont plan to explain the story in detail here (a lot of secret context it on my discord) and i have talked loads about trying to write the themes its tackled.
the main thing about it is just that i have never properly realized Penrose and well. I was facing a creative block this last month which caused more struggles. But it was harder with art- mostly design. coming up with a design is harder in a block than reading a thing that says "draw a series of houses". thinking up something new is not easy. and my head also gets very stuck up in "if you design this and draw it, you can never change it".
Eden was pulled from my old unused RP character, Eden Creature, and so i was able to base her off something already. even so making anything at all was hard- even for Mick who already existed. I really didnt want her and Eden to revert back into my old style because its just no me anymore but at the same time i do want to get something unique for this story. Dawning does not reflect what I want exactly. I like what i managed to do esp in working with my time constraints. but, its not something i want to keep doing going forward.
the story was WAY more condensed than i thought it would be and its because i didnt really realize how quickly approaching the deadline was compared to my work. but at the same time i am glad it was? i was quite ambitious with how big i wanted this "proof of concept" to be, to where i definitely probably would have gotten farther in the plot and realized i had no clue exactly what I wanted.
because i do have a general idea of this story but not like. enough. and so shortening the story hugely for this demo was actually a good thing because i would have had to write a lot more and also probably wouldnt have been able to explain lore well enough because of how little i understood my own world. and when youre creative blocked its incredibly hard trying to development of that world too.
conclusion
i mentioned it breifly in a blog post but tbh the most scary part is having it hit that i am nervous has to how people will take my characters. not in a criticism kinda way but just the idea that people just wont really 'get' them. and even just the idea that my OCs have been "presented to the world" in some sense. i do stuff in my own little space all the time and never think about what it would really be like to put a game on itch.io or even like publish a proper animation on youtube or publish a book or something. its different and its weird because i have always thought to myself that i want people to see my OCs! but then i put it up in a place where it likely will be seen and I am afraid of that.
its probably for it being a first time. and also i need to learn confidence in this kind of work i was so into thinking i could never truly make because of my issues. this was still like, very very hard to do mentally etc and i feel very exhausted. but i really dont want this to be the first and last time i try and make something.
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reader x azriel - azriel takes reader to a bakery.
Azriel's cool charm filled the room, his shadows snaking the floor and receding as the meeting quieted. Without a word, he nodded in dismissal at the group and they continued debating again. He sat back, stone faced while the high lords discussed what there was to be done about The Middle. More specifically, the mountain and caverns underneath that had hosted the horror show for forty nine years.
Guards stationed behind each high lord and their company, Azriel devoured the information his shadows brought back to him. There wasnt a single person in the room without at least two daggers on them.
You leaned back in your chair next to Thesan, resting your chin on your hand. The plush amenities of Day court and their pastel colors had taken some getting used to over the last week, but you grew to appreciate the massive table in front of you. Large enough to fit all seven high lords and their company around it, along with a few extra chairs. If it wasnt for the lofty ceilings and open windows into several balconies you would have thought such a harty table to be gawdy, but in this instance it seemed utterly necessary. Especially when Rhysand's cousin slapped a giant map of Pryhtian down on it and the high lord's power shifted pawns throughout. Mapping each court's armies and defenses.
A few of the leaders adjusted pawns, moving a few troops from one side of their court to another. Azriel perked up from his darkened corner at this, stepping forward and taking a glance at the map. He glared in your direction, catching your eye. He was utterly breathtaking, even with such a malice filled look on his face. You broke his stare to glance at your court's pawns on the map. A moment's hesitation after each high lord had stopped moving their pieces made your stomach drop. You glanced toward Thesan, seeing if he would move.
Rhysand seemed to be waiting as well. Azriel slowly, threateningly moved two of Thesan's pawns further south. He crossed his arms and walked back to his corner, his shadows almost hiding him completely. You felt Thesan tense as he shot Rhysand a charming grin.
You met the dark eyes of the spymaster, and rose from your seat. Stepping between a Beron and Kallis to move two more pawns east. You met his eyes again and winked, turning and going back to your seat. Thesan had ordered you before you left for the meeting to disperse your forces throughout the land, so it would make sense that the spymaster didnt know if the extra changes.
The room was tense, each high lord looking to each other to see if anyone else was hiding their foces. Helion suddenly let out a booming laugh, makin you jump slightly. "Rhysand have you been keeping your spymaster too busy perhaps?"
Rhysand chuckled, leaning forward in his seat and purring his reply "I'll have to send them back to training camp." His general's wings flared slightly and you fought to hold back a smile. Azriel revealed nothing, and said nothing until the meeting was over.
You were cleaning the scattered pawns from the map when Azriel approached. He was silent, but pushed the figuines from his side over to you in a pile. You nodded thankfully, eyeing him as he moved to roll up the cloth map still laid out over the grand table. You felt your hands get clammy, the silence in the room was palapable. The only other sounds were the hushed rustling of the trees in the slight breeze outside. The balcony doors were still open, and a cool wind slithered into the room. You opened the cloth bag for the pawns, there was a sudden clattering against the marble floor. You sighed, setting the bag down. Before you turned to pick it up you noticed the darkened atmospehre of the room. Then bumped straight into Azriel's chest in your distraction.
"Sorry I-" You felt your face turn hot and made to step back, only to find yourself slipping on the damned pawn. He caught your arm, stablising you. "Are you normally this accident prone?" He asked, a small smirk on his lips. You looked to where his hand held you, and noticed the textured skin there. He cleared his throat and lowered your arm.
"I guess you could blame it on the wind." You stammered. What you meant to say was 'I guess you could blame it on the fine Illyrian shadow master in the room'. His smirk seemed to say he knew exactly what you were thinking. And maybe with those shadows he did know. His build seemed to fill the room standing this close to you, broad shoulders -t support the massive wings no doubt- and muscles and the hair was immaculate. He smelled of pine and leather, sea salt and something darker. Maybe that was the shadows themselves.
"You dont like the cold?" He asked, head tilting slightly.
"Should I really be telling a spymaster anything that I'm afraid of?" You challenged, smiling at him. His eyes seemed to light up. He nodded and stepped back. You forgoe the groan of displeasure at the empty space between you.
"Have you ever really been in the cold before? Dawn court and all.." He trailed off, sauntering towards the balcony and motioning you to follow. You obeyed, dropping the cloth bag on the table. You took your time approaching him, marvelling at the wings he bore. How thick the outer edges were, and how delicate the inner folds looked. In the dull darkness you could barely make out the inky black forms of them as he stretched them out. They flared and tilted, and you understood why they were so hard to see.
His shadows had melded into the darkness, shielding them and his lower half completely, Blending him into the night. Becoming a shadow himself. You felt a chill run through you at the sight. He was darkness, and all the whispers on the wind. The epitome of pure silence, but not pressing, a soothing darkness, silence and comfort. Liek a comfort of sleep.
"Are you going to stare or come for a ride with me?" he asked, folding his wings in tight and turning towards you. He leaned back on the balcony confidently, the column of his neck exposing a few scars behind his ear. You shuddered to think of what kind of beast could make such an impact on someone who was mist and shadow.
"If someone sees us Thesan will know immidea-" He cut you off with a stare, and you felt coolness begin creeping up your legs. You felt nervous, heart hammering in your chest as he stood so close to you, eyes knowingly glancing to your chest briefly. His shadows danced around you like a fog, asking permission to cover you further. And you were sure they were reporting back to him how badly he had riled you.
"No one will see us." He promised, holding a hand out to you. You took a steadying breath and nodded nervously. As soon as you touched that scarred hand he had you covered in the snaking darkness, the tendrils weaving around you protectively. It felt like being in a heavy ocean mist, and it brought goosebumps to your skin. Azriel huffed a small laugh as he bent to scoop you up.
Before you could protest and come up with some sort of excuse, he had you cradled to his chest and he was summoning those shadows even more around the both of you.
And then you were falling. Your stomach leapt into your throat, fingers clawing into Azriel's shoulders. You were sure you were dead when the feeling stopped. "Open your eyes." The shadow master squeezed you a bit extra, getting your attention. "I dont think I can." you muttered, but slowly peeked through your lashes to see the millions of tiny lights below.
The breath was stolen from you as your eyes flew open, gazing in amazement at the city below. Dawn court was built more upwards than any of the other courts, so you were used to seeing castles towering above and lights shine from them. But you'd never seen the city from this high. You wondered how he had flown so high in such a short time but decided you didnt want to know the answer even if he could tell you. The enormous archways of the high lord's palace was visible from the sky. The stars above were dull, as usual in Dawn and Day court. You never found much pleasure or satisfaction at night in either territory. It only made you wonder what Night court's stars were like. If the moon beckoned and blessed the land like the noon sun seemed to make everything in Day court shimmer.
"You can stop trying to claw me to death at any time." His voice rumbled softly, almost scaring you. You loosened your grip on him, only enough so he wouldn't complain. He banked slowly, you could only tell so because the spires coming closer to you as you approached the center of the city. The streets below were lit with clear bright lights that showed off all the boutiques of main street and the patio areas for bars all around. The stained glass windows of second story balconies reflected pastel lights on to the sidewalks, painting them in pastels.
You could smell the bakery below, churning out different treats of pastries and breads for the late night drinkers. The sweet warm smell of it made your mouth water. "Would you like to stop in somewhere?" Azriel asked as he whisked you upward again, avoiding the tall lights as the city rose up hill.
"I think you might be recognized a bit too easily." You chided, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. He was watching the sky, his face unlike any expression you'd ever seen him wear. At peace, it seemed. He didnt have the clenched jaw or stern eyebrow look anymore. His hair ruffled slightly at the small breeze that came through the shield he had placed around you.
He considered his fame as Spymaster for a moment, then nodded. And plummeted you downwards into the city. You fought not to scream, only digging your nails into his skin again, hoping it hurt. He landed in a narrow alley, hidden from the blinding lights of the street. The smell of sweets hung in the air. You still held tight on to his arm after he set you on your feet. You then shoved him, palm straight into his shoulder and sent him a step back, his wings flared and balanced him before he could falter any further. "You could tell me next time!" You growled at him. A clever grin graced his features, smoothing out his surprise at the shove.
"Only members of the night court get free flying privileges." He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "I expect my payment with a side of cinnamon." He nodded towards the street. You glanced back and he was gone, likely shouded in the darkness somewhere. You whispered curses at him while heading to the bakery.
"Why do you like cinnamon so much?" You asked around a mouthful of sweet bread. Azriel had devoured his chocolate and cinnamon twist, along with the extra side of cinnamon. He still had evidence of it on his face and shirt despite the windy takeoff before he put his shield up. "Why dont you?" He retorted, his powerful wings gliding you around the east side of the tower where the week of meeting had taken place.
"I just wouldnt expect the Shadow master of the Night Court to have such a sweet tooth." You grinned at him, absently wiping the sugar from his face. His eyes went to yours in an instant, and your heart hammered being pinned by that stare. He landed gracefully on the balcony, eyes still locked on you. He merely stood there, holding you. Both frozen.
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the landlord - myg | m
↳ summary- your air conditioner breaks right at the height of a recordbreaking heat wave. good thing your hot landlord, yoongi, knows how to attend to any needs you may have.
↳ rating- explicit / 18+
↳ word count- 4.3k
↳ pairing- yoongi x reader
↳ genre- smut, light crack, PWP
↳ warnings- basically the plot of a porn, theres no plot, the plot doesn’t make sense, seduction, oral sex (m/f receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk, fun laughing giggly time during sex, honestly yoongi is great and i love him, maybe exhibitionism if u squint ???, cum sharing, finger sucking, motorboating
↳ a/n- did i just write basically the plotline of a bad porno? yes. did i love it? also yes. this was lowkey inspired by my own landlord coming over to my place (that i DIDNT SLEEP WITH) and i answered the door in a state of undress :/ i hate myself lol. anywwayyss! enjoy yoongi the landlord! pls feel free to interact with me because i need constant attention uwu
The inside of your apartment feels hotter than the blazing sun outside. Your air conditioner chose the worst week to fritz on you. A record-breaking heat wave.
Nothing helps. You open windows, blow fans, sit in front of your fridge, take cold showers. All just momentary bliss that ends too soon.
It finally breaks you and you muster up the courage to text your landlord, Yoongi.
You inhale a deep breath as you click on the name. Min Yoongi, landlord. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment without realizing.
Your landlord who lives in the same building as you is likely the hottest and most attractive man you’ve ever met. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on the man. Every month, paying rent was torture. You wanted to fling your legs open to him and request he takes his payment another way.
But you never did. He always remained cool and expressionless and it was hard to get a read on the man, let alone see if he’s interested.
Your fingers slide across the keys, nibbling at your lip as you decide what to say.
[to: yoongi] hi! sorry to bother you but my ac appears to have died and im afraid ill be next at the rate of his heat wave 😩 no rush but id appreciate help!
Perfect. Simple, slightly cutesy. Emoji to express how chill you are.
Your phone vibrates almost instantly and a smile curves on your face.
[to: me] oh no, we can’t have that. haunted apartments are hard to rent out 😉 im out until late tonight but i can stop by first thing in the morning if that’s cool?
A flirty line? Is this… working?
[to: yoongi] tomorrow is great! and don’t worry, if i die i won’t haunt this apartment, i’ll haunt yours 😌
[to: me] see you tomorrow, poltergeist 👻
You’re leaping through the air at the idea of the hot landlord semi-flirting with you over text when you notice your apartment. It’s disgusting. Your face burns red and you instantly work on the space before Yoongi comes over. He can't see you like this.
Sleep is out of the question. After your ravage cleaning and polishing and organizing, you’ve worked up more than a sweat. A cold shower helps for a moment but you end up lying in bed feeling slightly wet and very, very hot. The humidity is draining.
You change into an outfit of a crop top and g-string panties. You aim the 3 fans in your room to point around your bed for direct wind contact. It helps, somewhat.
Sleep finally comes as dawn breaks. It’s cooled off enough that the ambient air around you is finally tolerable. Exhaustion overwhelms you, and you pass out, hard. Finally.
You’re broken from your exquisite dream of being nailed by your landlord when a loud knock wakes you up. It’s disorienting. You’re so tired you’re not even sure where you are at the moment, let alone who is at the door. The knock sounds again and you scurry to turn off the loud fans and book it to the door.
The door swings open and reveals your landlord, Yoongi.
“Oh, hi!” You’re excited to see him, for reasons beyond fixing your air conditioning.
Yoongi steps in and looks like he’s about to speak but opens his mouth and remains silent. His cheeks tingle a light shade of pink and he’s staring at your body. Did you drool all over yourself all night or something? What was he staring—
Oh god.
You glance down at your body. The crop top you hastily changed into in the middle of the night hits you a little lower than where your breasts end. The G string is non-existent. It covers almost nothing, which is why you opted for it last night in your desire to get cooled off.
You take a step back from the sexy landlord still gaping at you and shyly cross your arms over your chest.
“I’m sorry, I—it was hot,” you mutter. “I’ll go change.”
Yoongi licks his lips, then snaps his eyes up to you and finds his voice. “It’s fine. It’s your home,” he swallows. “It’s hot in here, so stay comfortable. Don’t want to overheat you.”
His eyes stare down yours intensely. It feels like your veins sizzle, and it’s not related to the scorching temperature of your studio apartment.
He breaks the contact first and heads towards the panel in the wall where the inner workings of the air conditioner hide.
You wait in your kitchen, enjoying the natural shadow and shade from no windows and a spot to hide from Yoongi.
What if he thought badly about you? What if he doesn’t find you attractive and thinks of this as a ploy to get him to lower your rent or something? How could you recover from this? Would it ever go back to being the same?
You’re anxiously tapping your fingers on the kitchen countertop, listening intently as the landlord fiddles with pipes and belts and mutters under his breath every so often. Eventually, you hear a soft ‘aha’ and your air con kicks right on. You think it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. Instantly you feel the machine push out air. It’s lukewarm now from disuse, but soon it will be frigid cold. You stand in front of the breeze and bask, arms open to let the wind blow through you.
Yoongi clears his throat, and it startles you, making you realize you’re standing in your house nearly naked, ass cheeks out on display, under-boob surely peeking out to say hi. Your face burns and it makes him chuckle as you jump and attempt to cover yourself somehow.
“How long was I standing there?” You ask quietly.
Yoongi can’t wipe the amused smirk on his face. “A few minutes,” he shrugs. “Glad it’s working now for you.”
The air rapidly cools as the machine continuously pumps out colder and colder air.
“Thank god. I owe you,” you sigh.
“Nah, that’s what rent pays for,” he smiles.
He makes his move to leave you alone, and you recognize this is it. This is your chance. You can ask him to fuck the shit out of you now. If he declines, well, the first of the month would start being more awkward. But if he accepts… it’s too blissful to imagine.
You grab at his arm as he walks past you. He stops in his tracks, and his eyes travel to where your hands meet his skin.
“I’m serious,” you attempt to sound as confident as you can. “I owe you.”
He arches a brow at you and turns completely to face you. Your hands hover at the hem of your tiny shirt, lifting a sliver to give him a glance of the bottom of a rounded globe.
“Let me repay you somehow?” you ask.
A smirk lifts at one side of his lips. “You think that will cover the cost?”
Your cheeks heat and you pull the shirt up higher, determined to get him in your bed or die trying.
“I’m hoping.”
Yoongi’s eyes zero in on your tits. Rounded and full, nipples prickling in the fresh and rapidly cooling air. He contemplates for a moment as he lets his eyes get their nice, long drink of you.
“Yeah, now that I think of it, that should be exact change.” He drops his bag of tools and approaches you quickly, hands cupping your head as he kisses you intensely.
He kisses you with all the fire of the heatwave outside, melting you from the inside out. You’re sure to be sweaty and clammy after you’re finished with him. He swipes his tongue over your lips, and there’s no hesitation to let him in. Your hands grip at his sides, pulling his shirt up as much as you can while trying to focus on making out with the hottest guy you’ve ever met.
He chuckles against your lips at your weak attempt to disrobe him and he reluctantly pulls a step away from you to take the shirt off. He stands there and allows you a quick look before he’s back on to you. His skin presses against your chilled nipples and the fire and ice sensation makes you shiver.
Yoongi kisses you passionately, you notice. Like a lover. It’s laced with deeper intention and you hope you’re not overthinking it. You will your brain to just shut up and enjoy. Emotions can come later.
Now, you’re the one to remove your lips from his and he pouts slightly at the loss. You smile and slide down to your knees, hands undoing the button of his tight jeans and tugging them down.
“Shit, babe, I think you may be overpaying me,” he admits. “Wasn’t that hard to fix.”
As a finger pulls down the front of his boxers to let his cock spring free, you flick a smirk up to his face.
“Then consider this my repayment for being late on rent all those months,” you state before shifting your gaze back to his hardened cock. It’s gathered pre-cum at the head and you wonder if he’s been hard and wanting since he got here and first saw you. The thought is intoxicating and spurs you on.
Your tongue licks up the slick at the tip that threatens to drip off, before it swirls around the bulbous head. Yoongi isn’t afraid to be loud, it seems. You supposed you wouldn’t be afraid if you owned the building too. Who will complain? And to who?
“Hoooooly fuck,” he gasps. “Sh—shit I might let you pay rent like this for the rest of your lease.”
You pop your mouth off and lick your lips, allowing your hand to grip his shaft and begin stroking him.
“I don’t want to pay rent this way. How about we consider it a perk?” You smile, pressing forward to kiss his tip teasingly.
“God, a girl who doesn’t want to fuck me just to take advantage of me? And she’s hot as fuck and wants to blow me for fun?” he quirks his head. “Shit, be careful or I’ll end up falling in love.”
It makes your head spin a little and you suckle at the tip a little longer, making him keen, before you pull away again.
“Maybe that was the plan all along,” you simper, then take him in fully, letting his tip glide down your mouth to the back of your throat. He groans loudly, and it’s the most satisfying sound. It makes you want to do this more. Every day if you could.
You get to work, sucking him in, allowing him passage to your throat, vacuuming your cheeks to add additional pressure, gliding your hands up and down the slick shaft to assist you in touching every single bit. Yoongi is thriving. He can’t believe his luck. The hottest girl in the complex, the girl he’s secretly pined over, is sucking his cock as if her life depends on it.
You’re salivating at the act now, saliva spilling out your mouth as you continue to envelop his cock quickly. You slip it out of your mouth to lean down and lick and suck at his balls, which makes him hum in absolute pleasure. You don’t remain long—his cock is nearly pulsating with desire. Your mouth returns to its rightful place and as you’re licking and sucking and pumping and stroking him, you maintain even and sensual eye contact with him.
You want him to know this isn’t a chore, a means to an end. You want him to know you’ve dreamt of him fucking your throat raw every night since you moved in.
Yoongi got the picture pretty quickly. His mouth drops open as he openly gapes at your work, giving him probably the best and hottest blowjob of his life.
Your tongue swirls at the ridge of his head and Yoongi feels it snap—the tightness that holds everything back. He fucks desperately into your throat, relishing in the feel of your gagging and moaning. It didn’t take long until he was seeing it through to the end, pumping hot white ropes down your throat while he moaned out your name with a string of expletives.
The immoral pop noise your mouth made as you pull off his cock makes the blue-haired landlord standing above you moan.
“Fucking hell—where the fuck have you been all my life?” he sighs as he cups his hand under your chin. He beckons you back up, desperate to kiss you. You oblige and return to standing, pressing against his body to pull him in to a dirty kiss.
“Upstairs, apparently,” you murmur.
He swipes his tongue on yours, tastes himself there, and decides he wants to taste himself on you all the time. His hands slide down to your ass, the g string still curving down the line. He snaps at the straps as you kiss, making you puff a laugh against his lips before pulling away.
“I’d be willing to fix your leaky faucet in the bathroom if you let me eat you out,” he offers.
You’re tugging him towards your bed, knocking over multiple fans in the process, and flopping onto the mattress, landing on your back.
“Throw in fixing the squeaky wheel on my closet, and you’ve got yourself a deal,” you joke, spreading your legs to give him the tiniest clue of what lays between.
He sighs dramatically with a smile, “Needy tenant,” before he slips down to hover over you. He intends to kiss and lick every part of your body, starting with the tits that hypnotized him.
“Can’t believe you opened the door like that,” he chuckled as he plucked a nipple between his fingers and lightly rolled it. “I thought I was dreaming.”
The feeling is instant, electricity sparking at the tips of your nipples and warming its way around your body, directly to your cunt. You’re absolutely certain that by the time Min Yoongi reaches his mouth to your core, he’ll drown in it.
He moves forward and wraps his lips around the bud, allowing his hands to travel to the neglected one and to squeeze and pinch and prod. He’s rewarded with your beautiful sighs and gasps—it’s sweeter than any song he’s ever heard.
He presses your tits together and rubs his face in the cleavage there, making you gasp and laugh at the same time. He gazes up at you and flashes his gummy smile.
“I’ve really wanted to do that,” he admits, which makes you giggle again.
“Be my guest,” you approve. He takes your reply and does it again for just a moment, before he’s kissing and sucking at the flesh of your breasts. He wants to mark you, leave a piece of him for you to remember every time you see yourself. You moan in appreciation and rub your thighs together, desperate at the ache that grows with every nip and nibble of Yoongi’s lips and teeth.
He seems to understand and trails down, kissing and sucking at your long torso, abdomen, hips. He leaves little bruises everywhere and you want them to last forever. You want him to mark you and claim you as his own.
His fingers slip around the thin straps of your underwear, and he tugs them right off. He’s unable to stop the loud moan when he notices the slick that strings between them and your folds. You’re drenched, and he marveled at how excited you were about him.
“Fuck, babe—” he sighs as he lowers his chest down to lie in front of your spread thighs. Your center is weeping, slicked with your arousal and he can tell you’re desperate for friction, for anything. “Look at this perfect fucking pussy.”
You whimper as you can feel his breath so close to where you need him.
“Yoongi, please,” you whine. “I’m so fucking horny.”
“I can tell,” he hums. “Keep moaning my name like that and I’ll make sure you’re always horny and ready for me.”
He lowers his lips, hovering millimeters from your slit. He holds it there as he watches your anguished face nearly burst at how close and yet how far he is, before he obliges you and presses into you.
You gasp at the first swipe of his tongue on your clit. He maintains a soft up and down motion on the nub and you’re already seeing stars. He steadily increases the pressure and the speed, then spices it up by swirling his tongue around in different shapes, spelling out his name on your cunt with his tongue to remind you just who got you this fucking soaked.
Your legs falter and quiver as he slips his tongue deeper inside you, licking into your hole and nearly drinking you up. He pulls back and devotes his attention to your clit and your moans turn from soft gasps and pleas to loud whines as he slips his fingers into your cunt and slowly fucks you, spreading you out. He’s not small by any means, he feels he can get you ready to go.
“I want you to cum for me on my tongue,” he states, matter-of-factly. “I want to feel you on my fingers.”
You nod, plucking at your own nipples with one hand as the other seeks purchase in his hair.
“Can you do that for me, babe? Can you cum for me and get my hand nice and drenched? I want to lick it off my fingers.”
His fingers get frantic and he splits his time between suckling and laving at your clit and encouraging you with illicit requests and praises.
Yoongi continues, never letting up or even giving an inkling of a hint he’s tiring. His hand works like a machine and he slips yet another finger inside your heat, making you arch off the bed. He licks at your clit with just the right pressure, and he picks up the speed and it sends you tumbling towards your orgasm. You feel the breath leave your lungs as it hits you, core and channel muscles squeezing him tight and legs shaking around his body. Your moans echo off the small apartment walls, only drowned out by the sound of the fresh air-con still running.
“Oh, my god Yoongi—” you pant. “I’ve never cum so hard from oral in my life.”
He pulls his fingers from inside you as you come back down from your high and chuckles at your words. True to his promise, he lets the slick glisten on his finger and marvels at it, before he’s popping the fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean.
“You taste so fucking good,” he compliments, and it makes your chest tighten and tips of your ears turn red. “Fuck, I could eat you every fucking day.”
You smirk, still sensitive but feeling the desperate ache inside you needy for him and his thick cock. Your legs spread open as he lays between them and you’re wiggling your hips to get his attention.
“I’m sure we could arrange something in my lease for that,” you tease. “I could suck your cock hourly, honestly.”
He groans as he sits up between your legs, cock resting heavily on top of your mound. It’s so close, so close to where you need it to be. You appreciate the thick member as it rests and as Yoongi catches his breath. It’s thick and long, on top of your mound the tip reaches to the tiny swell of your stomach. You know you will not be able to walk tomorrow, that’s for sure.
“You’re telling me I could have been going down on you and been getting my dick sucked by the hottest girl on the planet this whole time and all I’ve done is give you shit about rent?”
You stifle a laugh and spread your legs open wider. “Looks like it. We better make up for all that lost time, don’t you think?”
His cock is rigid, almost stone, and he agrees heartily.
“Fuck yeah, we should. I’ve been dreaming about being inside you.”
He sounds so dirty, looks so sinful—it’s all so much and you’re almost begging for him to take you.
He reaches down to the pants on the floor that dropped and shimmies a condom out of his wallet. You send him a look that he silences with a roll of his eyes.
“Every dude has one, chill,” he mumbles. “I haven’t gotten laid in like a year and a half.” He pales as he realizes what he just said. “Not that it matters. Or that I care. Or that you care—christ can we fuck now please?” He asks as he rolls the rubber onto his stiff cock.
You’re laughing a bit, not at him but with him, and you lean up on your elbows to kiss his lips. “If it makes it better, I haven��t gotten laid in 3 years so I’m the loser by comparison,” you assure.
He wants to ask you how the fuck you haven’t gotten laid in that long because you’re the hottest god damn person he thinks he’s ever seen, but he realizes he doesn’t care and that it works out in his favor because Yoongi doesn’t like competition.
“Looks like the landlord needs to fix yet another problem of yours,” he winks as he lines himself up. You lean back onto the pillows and sigh as you feel the touch of his head right at the opening of your slit.
In one slow motion, he slides himself to the hilt. It’s tight, so fucking tight even after one orgasm, and Yoongi nearly hollers at the feel. He’s sure his eyes are rolling back in his head. It’s warm and tight and wet and even through a condom he’s in absolute bliss. He’s hoping one day he can try it without—fuck you raw and stuff you full of his cum.
He’s still inside you, and after a moment to breathe and adjust to the thick girth of him, you’re whining. “Yoongi, fuck me, I need you so fucking bad.”
A feral groan leaves his lips, and he’s off, beginning a pace that has him hoarse from moaning in no time. He’s never felt so good inside a cunt before, never understood how some men could do crazy shit for ‘magic pussy’, but now he gets it—he realizes he’d probably do some dumb things for a chance to be inside you again.
“Oh, yeah—” you whine. “S-shit, you’re so fucking big, Yoongi. Fuck me nice and deep.”
“Mmm, yeah? You want me to bruise your cervix? Want me to make this cunt remember my fucking cock?” He thrusts harder, pushing into you with diligent speed and intensity. “Gonna make sure you can never cum from another cock again, only mine.”
You’re losing your breath with how hard he’s fucking into you, both your moans and pants coming out in quick little bursts between his thrusts.
“Y-y-yes! Yo-o-ongi! Right there!” He hits a spot that feels so good, and you feel the pull towards orgasm tighten.
“God—you feel so. fucking. good.” he emphasizes with a thrust. “Need to feed your tiny pussy my dick every day, hm? Needy little cunt needs my thick cock.”
Tears form in your eyes. The depths he reaches inside you nearly scrambles your brains—you forget everything that isn’t Yoongi and his perfect thickness spearing inside you.
“Yoongi! Gonna c-cum!”
He goes harder, becomes rabid for your second orgasm and wants to feel the way you squeezed his fingers on his cock, knowing the channel will feel even impossibly tighter.
“That’s right, good girl,” he praises while he maintains a punishing pace. “Let me see you cum on this cock, baby, wanna see that pretty little pussy all creamy for me.”
His thumb rubs at your clit, moving it in circular motions, and diverts his eyesight between watching your full tits bounce and your lips open and close in pure bliss. You’re the definition of fucked out and Yoongi feels a surge of testosterone at the sight—knowing he was responsible.
“O-oh! Th-there!” You’re frantic and he can tell you’re right on the edge. He goes even faster, deeper and harder, and it’s the final straw. You’re catapulted off the edge and thrown headfirst into your orgasm. As he suspected, your perfect cunt pulsates around him like a fist and he’s groaning and stuttering as it triggers his own release.
It takes a few moments for both of you to come down, before he pulls his softening cock from within you and disposes of the condom. You’re breathing hard, and he’s smiling at the sheen of sweat on your body.
“Good thing I got that AC fixed today, hm?” He asks as he leans over to kiss at your lips.
You grin and pull him down to lay next to you, snuggling into his body. He holds onto you and kisses your head. He feels a level of contentment he’s never felt before.
You break the silence. “Now, as the landlord’s girlfriend, do I get any special perks? Like you’ll throw the utilities into my rent? Free cable?”
He chuckles against your forehead. “Not a fucking chance, babe.”
�� ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.
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you have an anxiety attack
prompt: “after a long day you’re just trying to cook for you and your roommate, but when you accidentally switch salt and sugar the stress dawns upon you and you lose it.”
pairing: kaeya x gender-neutral reader
warnings: description of an anxiety attack, explicit language
word count: 1.6k
genre: fluff, angst
rough day?
no
roughest of the rough
it started in the morning - all was good until you were all dressed and ready to go
all you needed to do was brush your teeth
of course you dropped toothpaste on your new blouse and had to change because your boss would literally kill you if you strutted in there with toothpaste stains on your clothing
that didn’t upset you too much anyway,, yep, it kinda sucks but it is what it is
you went to work
that’s when it started to REALLY go downhill
first, you had to sit your ass in this tiny cubicle all day and it remained right on that chair every time you stood up
that’s what it felt like at least
then, you lost data that you’ve been working on for a MONTH
an entire month’s worth data!!!! LOST!!!!
curse you and your issue with forgetting where you put your folders
so you started over
was it worth it?
no
your boss hated it
you ended up dropping the project overall,, handed it over to a co-worker
your excuse was that you felt too ‘unfit’ for the whole project and he would totally be a better fit!
poor bennett
bennett is a nice guy, you always hang out with him during break
you usually talk shit about the other co-workers and he just listens and sits there like ◕ ◡ ◕
he’s just there for the food you bring him, really
he’s a little dumb so he took the project from you with no hesitation
“i’ll do it for you, dont even worry about it, y/n!”
you ended up working overtime
you had about 7 projects to finish until tomorrow morning and they were all only half-done
so you got your coffee, turned off your phone and got to work
you finished at 9pm
your work hours are 8am-5:30pm
nope, not having a great time
well, at least you can go home now!
you pack up your stuff and get up, leaving this hellhole of an office, stretching as you wait for the elevator before checking your phone to see 7 missed calls from your roommate
aka kaeya
aka boy that is most likely emotionally unavailable
aka boy that KEEPS TURNING OFF THE HEATERS TO LEAVE YOU TO FREEZE
his excuse is always that he can’t handle the warmth but you’re sure its so you whine about the cold so he can hug you to warm you up
maybe you have a teeny tiny crush on him???? BUT WHO CAN BLAME YOU
he’s a whole package - the only thing he’s lacking is emotional availability lmao
which is why you never mentioned the day by day blooming feelings you’ve been developing for him
there would be no positive outcome from you telling him. he would politely turn you down, having to explain yet again that he doesn’t see himself having actual romantic feelings to someone
you’re content with your current relationship with him
right?
kaeya is known as the fuckboy! of the city
neither of you mind, he’s having his fun
and you know that there’s much more to it
you’re very happy to have gained his trust enough for him to let his flirty side down when with you, at least
well, there’s no time to ponder over your relationship with him because you’re already sprinting to catch the last bus of the day
right as you got to the station it drove away
fuck
what now?
you have to walk home. alone. in the dark.
oh well.
usually bennett drives you home but obviously he left earlier
its only a 15 minute walk you can do it
it’s not that bad there’s street lamps hey!
not that bad until it starts to rain, apparently
by the time you get home there’s water in places rainwater shouldn’t be
kaeya is running by the time he hears the front door
“where were you??”
“why didn’t you reply to my calls??”
“do you have a slight idea about how worried i w-”
he stops when he sees your soaked figure and tired expression
“oh, y/n, what happened?”
he immediately helped you chuck off your wet coat and shoes
“i worked overtime and missed the last bus so i had to walk home”, you sighed
he nodded and hummed “Go ahead and take a shower then, wouldn’t want you to get sick now, would we?” he winked
you scoffed but nodded anyway
“yeah, especially in this coLD FUCKING APARTMENT BECAUSE YOU REFUSE TO LET THE HEATERS TURNED ON-”
you only heard him laugh before shutting the door in the bathroom and jumping into the shower, needing to warm up because you were sure your toes were about to fall off from the cold
at least the shower went well
:///
you got dressed in lounge attire when you got out of the shower, walking to the kitchen because you were very hungry
you gave bennett all your food today so you didnt have any left
he just looked so hungry
ANYWAYS
you’re in the kitchen, deciding on what to cook
if you ask kaeya he will tell you to just drink wine instead so, no
you kind of want something sweet so you decide to bake cupcakes
kaeya shows up too
“what’re you baking?”
he sat and watched as you gathered all the ingredients you need
“cupcakes. how was your day?”
you strike up a conversation - all you talked about today was work and you need some decent interaction, plus kaeya is a super nice talk partner
“good. i had a day-off today so i layed in bed all day”
you hummed, stirring the eggs and flour
“how come? you never get off”
“no reason, i was forcibly given a day off- well anyways, what i wanted to tell you about before you worried me because i thoght you were deAD when you didn’t respond, is that i need your help setting up a date for diluc-”
you stopped listening halfway
you were looking at the unopened sugar bag on the counter
you just stirred the sugar in, why is it unopened????
you look over at the open bag of salt
wait a second
you take out a little dough and taste it
FUCK
“hello??? earth to y/n?? are you even liste-”
he stops himself as soon as you look at him with your lower lip trembling
uhhhhh
he’s never been in this situation
“y/n?? why are you crying-”
he looks at the counter and the dough, then he sees the salt beside the bowl you were stirring in and leans over to try some
oh, that’s why
“oh come on, is that what you’re crying over?” he snorted
he could barely catch you when you collapsed and started sobbing
he immediately regreted what he said
“hey, y/n, it’s just a little dough! its okay-”
you just sobbed and he sat down with you, sighing and pulling you into a tight hug
you felt your lungs constricting and your hands started shaking
you didn’t even notice how antsy you felt all day until now
you gasped for air and he tightened his grip on you
“w-why am i so worthless?!”
you punched his chest
“i can’t do a single thi-ng with-out messing it up!”
punch
“i’m so us-useless”
punch
“i should just kill m-”
he immediately pulled away and cupped your face before you could finish what you were about to say
“y/n, look at me. you had a bad day - you’re not useless! you’re stressed out! you’re one of the most hardworking people that i know- and, and don’t you ever mention anything about killing yourself! i won’t let you go, not as long as im here”
you were too busy fighting against the constricting feeling in your lungs to notice the tear slipping down his cheek before he hugged you tightly again
your hands gripped at his tshirt
his hand rested over your shaky ones
it broke him
seeing you in such state hurt him so much, he felt his own heart breaking a little with every gasp you took
“come on, let’s breathe together”
his voice was soft when he spoke to you
he took a deep breath in, you following
you wrapped your arms around him and leaned your head against his chest when breathing out
hearing his heartbeat made you feel safe
he kept breathing with you until he was more than sure you could breathe comfortably again
why did he feel like this?
sure, flirting with girls is fun
and ghosting them is also fun
he usually doesn’t care about hurting them
but why does he feel the need to protect you from all bad things?
and why does your pain hurt him too?
he sighs and shakes his head as if that would clear his mind
(it doesn’t)
oh well.
taking care of your needs is more important right now
he picks you up and walks over to the couch, sitting down, placing you on his lap and hugging you
“you’re not cooking anything, we’ll order takeout.”
you sniffled and nodded
you did feel your heart flutter a little when he sat you down on him
he’s never done that
you ignore it and reside into the warmth he gives instead, nuzzling your face into his chest
he smiles softly and strokes your hair, using his free hand to type in what you were ordering
you both fell into a comfortable silence
at some point he thought you fell asleep lol
“kaeya?”
he rose his brows a little and looked down, humming
“thank you.”
additional notes: welp. this was my first drabble! it was very fun to write and i genuinely look forward to writing more! i’d appreciate it alot if you leave any feedback or even requests for drabbles :-)
#kaeya#kaeya x reader#anxiety#anxiety attack#angst#fluff#diluc#bennett#genshin impact#kaeya alberich#gender neutral s/o#genshin impact x reader#kaeya scenario#genshin impact scenarios#kaeya alberich x reader#kaeya fluff#kaeya angst#genshin impact angst#genshin impact fluff
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a modified ship tag from a now-defunct account, to organize some of the smaller ideas
How long will they last? - middle age til death do 'em part.
How quickly did/will they fall in love? - kya found lin attractive for decades, but the two werent ever in a place to go any further than her appreciative glances. lin didnt see kya as a possible partner until her late forties. once kya began staying with lin, she realized how much she would enjoy if it were permanent. lin got used to kya's presence, and it was like, wow, i actually can live with someone. this is possible. she tells kya, and the latter is enthusiastic. after a handful of dates & a couple months, it just feels right.
How was their first kiss? - graduated from light cheek-pecks before their date, to a soft, warm kiss once they got home. just nice and easy. exciting, definitely, but above else it was comforting.
Who proposed? - though discussed prior, lin would.
Who is the best man/groomsmen? - for lin, saikhan. kya's would be bumi or an oc friend.
Who is the maid of honour/bridesmaids?- kya would definitely have jinora, ikki, and an oc friend. lin would have an oc friend as well?
Who did the most planning? - lin did about 60%, kya the rest. it's kya's second, so she knows the ropes, but lin is a researching NERD and went wild. she's detail-oriented so she didnt want someone else, even a close friend, doing all of it for them.
Who stressed the most? - lin is worried, because she wants to make sure kya is alright with everything, but neither are too concerned about the ceremony itself.
How fancy was the ceremony? - high end venue, great food and stuff, but not so extravagant that it's in any way wasteful.
Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - politicians. poppy and lao instilled manners in her; lin would invite acquaintances she knew wouldnt come just out of politeness, but she will not stoop low enough to include those she actually dislikes. no media either.
Who does the most cooking? - 50% kya, 30% lin, 20% restaurants or takeout.
Who is the most picky in their food choice? - lin by far. kya's adapted to just about anything.
Who does the grocery shopping? - lin picks up a few things each trip, often, while kya goes out and fills the pantry once a month.
How often do they bake desserts? - kya has more of a sweet tooth, but neither indulge frequently. most desserts are made with the air kids, or surrounding holidays.
Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - kya likes seafood and poultry, lin likes seafood and steak. salad is always a side dish, never main.
Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - they plan anniversaries & birthdays together. as far as surprise dinners in general, kya likes to cook different things, especially cuisines from her travels. random nights lin will get home to find a monster of a mess and an ecstatic girlfriend.
Who is more likely to suggest going out? - kya.
Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - kya.
Who cleans the room? - lin has a monthly cleaning person who dusts and vacuums. between visits, she keeps everything orderly.
Who is really against chores? - neither. lin likes her residence neat. kya travelled for years, she got used to doing a lot on her own. she learns the ways lin keeps stuff like laundry, dishes, books, and adapts; it makes lin far more comfortable, and in turn, kya's happier.
Who cleans up after the pets? - both. if either sees an issue they deal with it immediately, but the pets are well-behaved in general.
Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - their guests are always friends, so it's hardly ever worrisome to invite people over. at first kya was apprehensive letting people into lin's house, but the two talked about it, and lin insisted she feel comfortable as well.
Who takes the longer showers/baths? - kya can spend an easy hour in the bathroom, reading or listening to the radio. post-long work day, lin will relax in the bath for half an hour, usually with kya's company.
Who takes the dog out for a walk? - lin's got mornings, kya afternoon.
How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - lin pays for an exterior decorator because all the houses on the street are festive and she doesnt want to be a grinch. when kya stays/moves in, she puts stuff up inside. lin's not sure where she got it all, but there is now a dedicated holiday-closet.
Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - kya. she's just as likely to wake at dawn, however.
Who is worse to make angry? - kya. she forgives but will not forget.
Who decided on the pet(s)? - the whole animal discussion began when a family of wingless turtleducks migrated into a pond in lin's front yard. lin was so excited, checked in on them every day, added stones to make a shelter, bought animal-specific food to give them. when kya visited she fell in love with them too. many months later when kya moved in, lin brought up the wish of having a dog. considering the long and unpredictable hours, it had never been a fair idea. the conversation was casual, "it would have been cool to have a pet, but it wouldnt have ever worked out." but kya was like :o do you still want one, i've always wanted one. and lin's like, i suppose so, and begins considering it. a week later lin mentions it again and kya's very supportive. they went to a rescue and lin fell in love with a deer dog, and kya was spouting a number of possible names that had to have been thought of prior. she realizes kya was really into it too, so they pull the trigger and adopt it. half a year later lin comes home with a pygmy puma that had been imported by a triad leader, then released into the city once it got "too large." the poor animal had been mauled by a cat owl, and lin helped nurse it back to health. the small feline absolutely loves lin, and even enjoys the company of kya and (unnamed deer dog.)
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A brief little oneshot inspired by this:
"Headcannon: Mike Stanford wasn't in Series 2&3 because he will only come back in Series 5 when John is in a relationship with Sherlock and talks to Mike and says 'I'm thinking about marriage' and Mike responds with 'You're the second person to say that to me today' and John will ask 'Who was the first?' AND CUT to Sherlock buying an engagement ring" - Original Prompter Unknown
* This is not my prompt! *
The Big Question
The sun shone through the windows of Oscar's, a bar several blocks down from Baker Street. It's frequent patrons usually varied from avid football fans to old, tired men with high stress levels. Dr. John Watson lied closer to the latter on the scale. He needed an escape. Not forever, just a few hours impersonating an everyman to clear his head. If there was anyone in John's life who could help him do that, it was Mike Stanford. He was nice enough as most gents go, though he had that all-too-common satisfaction with the dull and the pointless. John couldn't be a further contrast. He always needed something to race his heart to keep him sane. Even still, Mike's company was appreciated. Especially now. John turned to Mike and spoke what he had been dwelling on for... it must've been months now.
"I'm thinking of... I'm thinking I'm going to propose", John sighed in relief, releasing the words he had caged in his mind. He hadn't said this to anyone, he was afraid to, not until he was absolutely sure he was ready. He had done this all before once, only then he was in a relationship with an assassin.
Mary.
She was the best thing that could've happened to him at the time. Sherlock was dead and he was more alone than he had ever been. More so than after the war. He had lost his life's purpose then, but now he had lost the love of his life. He couldnt find anything worth believing in. Not after believing in Sherlock. He hoped and wished with every breath in him for his friend to be alive. He wanted to move forward, and like a listening angel, Mary walked into his life. She was lovely, she was sweet. She had that very same spunk Sherlock did, adventure living in her with every beat of her heart. He loved her, he promised his life to her, but then... Sherlock rose from the dead.
It was a miracle! If John had prayed for a Corvet, he now believed he'd wake up one morning and there it'd be, sitting in his driveway glittering in the sun. Regardless, he had moved on and he was ready to start his new life with Mary. Sherlock was still, and would always be, his best friend. It hadn't taken long to forgive him. John didnt need to imagine what life without Sherlock was like, and the memories still wet his eyes. It had dawned on John too little too late that he had made a terrible mistake, sitting at a pale, lace-brimmed table between the love of his life and his bride. No matter the joy his wife brought him, his heart still pledged itself to Sherlock. Just when the two had come to peace with their own lives, together yet still so distant, Mary attended an appointment, you might say.
An appointment in samara.
Then he was alone. Without his partner, with a daughter to raise, and his best friend shut in his own disturbed mind. But, as per usual without fail, they saved each other- Sherlock's rescue being more emotional than literal. With time and a surrender of guilt, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson at long last shared their visceral longing for one another.
Oh... it had seemed a lifetime since then. John could hardly imagine where he'd be now had Sherlock not remained by his side through it all. Involving John in his adventures made all the difference in his livelihood. Not to mention his assisting in parenting Rosie.
John had been in love before, obviously, but the way he felt with Sherlock was unlike anything he had experienced before. He felt protected and loved in a way that he was unable to feel for himself. He could find himself in the stickiest of circumstances and he could know that his consulting detective wouldn't be far behind. Above all, he felt at peace. Nothing had to be hidden or repressed anymore. Soulmates was a fantastical term, but it was the closest John could come to describing Sherlock and him.
And now here he was. John was prepared to commit the rest of his finite time to the man he loved. He only had to figure out how to ask.
At John's admission, Mike paused. And then he chuckled.
"You know, you're the second person to say that to me today"
"...Who was the first?"
---
"Too bulky... too small... too flashy...too rusty- good lord! Do you have any wedding bands a shade other than brass?!"
"Ohhhh I read you loud and clear good sir, you are obviously a man of exquisite tastes!", the jeweler flushed nervously. This gentleman's abrasive, clear-cut manner did not make him an easy customer.
"One would think a shop primarily selling engagement rings would have a larger selection", the stranger replied curtly.
An uncomfortable laugh was his only response.
The mysterious man studied every gem and trinket with merciless judgement. No ring was suitable. Only as he began to turn to leave did his eye catch the perfect ring. The ordinary shopper would never have noticed it. This simple silver band was practically invisible amongst the glittering, bedazzled others surrounding it. It was classy and uncomplicated; the exact ring that his partner would appreciate.
"I'll take it."
The jeweler eyed the bland item suspiciously.
"That one?... Are you sure?"
"Very."
Relieved he had found something to his liking, the jeweler scuttled to the cash register before the other man would change his mind. "Alright now, that will be... do I know you from somewhere?"
"No"
"You sure? Because you look awfully familiar-"
"- noone you know, I'm sure. Do you take credit cards?", the customer dismissed swiftly.
"Oh! How could I have forgotten!", the jeweler laughed, "I've seen you in the papers! Didn't expect to see you here, mister. Especially without the hat."
"And, there it is", the other sighed, annoyed.
"I've got to say I love your hat-"
"Notmyhat", he seethed.
"Oh, forgive me, I'm babbling. That will be £5,000- Sherlock Holmes"
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Best Friend’s Confession
A Maeiso one-shot based off of a dream I had. Maehara confesses by text-ranting about how much he likes Isogai to his best friend, Isogai.
There are many feelings that you get when you fall in love easily. The smile that you can’t keep off of your face whenever you think of how cute they are. The want to protect them. How much you want to make them happy. The excitement of meeting them, talking to them, thinking of them. Those are all feelings that Maehara knows well, considering how easily he falls in love with a lot of people he meets.
But staring up at his ceiling on his bed, he’s pretty sure he can’t handle this one alone.
Seriously, he’s dealt with a heart beating fast, a mind that walks right into thoughts of whoever he’s crushing on the second he realizes he’s thinking, a hand that wants to hold the one he likes. It’s all normal at this point, something he’s well-accustomed to.
Unfortunately, his crush has never been quite as cute as Isogai, and he’s not sure how to fix the fact that his best way of expressing it would be the most aggressive keysmash in the history of keysmashes. Even more aggressive than the one Karma sent Kayano after he sent Nagisa his first pickup line.
He sighed. This is a crush he can’t go through alone, and he’s lucky enough that even as tired as he is after school, practice, and life in general, he knows exactly who he can confide in to feel better.
He grabs his phone and scrolls over to his best friend, who he vented out his feelings for former crushes to hundreds of times before.
Isogai.
Maehara: BWXBHIWGIUWIUWUIUW
Maehara: ISOGAI I HAVE A CRUSH ON A GUY AND HE’S SO CUTE JUST WEYEDGYUWEBDYUWGUYD-
Maehara: JUST OMG ISOGAI’S SO CUTE LIKE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FUNCTION WHEN HE’S R I G H T T H E R E AND BEING ADORABLE??
Maehara: LIKE IM ALWAYS IMAGINING DOING CUTE COUPLE STUFF LIKE HAND HOLDING AND THAT KINDA STUFF WITH HIM
Maehara: BUT THEN IM ALSO LIKE “WOW GET A ROOM”
Maehara: BUT I CANT BC HE ALREADY HAS A ROOM IN MY HEART WHICH HE S T O L E BUT ACTUALLY DIDNT BC I GAVE IT TO HIM WHEN I FELL OFF MY ROOF AND IN LOVE WITH HIM
Maehara: JUST-
Maehara: BQWYDSGWDWEBWDHWEUDGWYG8WDW AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
Maehara: IN CONCLUSION HE IS THE CUTEST MOST PRECIOUS LITTLE BABY I WOULD DIE FOR HIM AND I HAVE NEVER HAD A CRUSH ON ANYONE THIS BIG
Maehara: BTW THANKS FOR BEING HERE FOR ME AND LISTENING TO ME VENT SO OFTEN
Maehara: BC EARLIER IT WAS BASICALLY LIKE AN AGGRESSIVE KEYSMASH AND I WANTED TO CRY BC HES JUST SO C U T E HE JUST AN ABSOLUTE ANGEL I LOVE HIM
Maehara: NOW ITS MORE LIKE A MILDLY FUNCTIONAL KEYSMASH BC VENTING TO YOU ALWAYS MAKES ME FEEL BETTER THANK YOU PRINCE CHARMING
Maehara: GOOD NIGHT SWEET DREAMS FALL AND DARK
Maehara: YK KINDA LIKE RISE AND SHINE BUT INSTEAD ITS FALL AND DARK
Maehara: WBDWHJVWGVFCGWVCEYUCBIW GN ILY
Feeling significantly less like his heart was fluttering like a baby bird trying to fly as it’s mom pushed it off a tree, Maehara gave into sleep with the comfort that only Isogai could give him without even saying anything. Such was the way of the crush/best friend.
*TIME SKIP TO THE NEXT MORNING*
When Maehara woke up and remembered everything he had done, he was about 5 second away from internally combusting, and -9 hours away from needing his sister’s advice on how to survive without loving Isogai.
Panicking (and screaming, though he won’t ever admit it because his sisters would never let him live it down), he went right to his phone and desperately went Isogai’s contact. Which took a while because he constantly changed it from Isogai, Prince Charming, <3Angel<3, or some combination of all three. Maybe if he was fast enough, he could delete the messages.
He was not fast enough, because that little angel who was more diligent than a rooster screaming at the break of dawn, as Isogai had already woken up, read it all, and responded.
Ɛ>Iso the Angel Prince<3: SBWQHBSQWDUWYGC
Ɛ>Iso the Angel Prince<3: thank you??
Ɛ>Iso the Angel Prince<3: I did not realize my unrequited love was requited??
Ɛ>Iso the Angel Prince<3: I love you too
Ɛ>Iso the Angel Prince<3: gn sweet dreams Hiro
Yeah, scratch “5 seconds away from internally combusting”, he already had internally combusted, and was currently dead and in heaven but also revived and more alive than ever.
His oldest sister proceeded to crash through his door. “Why are you screaming at seven in the morning? It’s a weekend,”
In pure panic, he explained everything that had just happened.
He regrets it after his sister tells his other sister, and they both tease him to hell and back for the next three hours straight until Maehara mentions something about the middle sister’s crush/boyfriend and they shift into teasing her mercilessly instead.
Sometime in that day, Maehara manages to ask Isogai out on a date. They spend the next day at a park and Maehara gets the two of them ice cream.
The end, or something.
~
Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated (by that if you tell me legit anything about what you think of this I will die of happiness and validation). Hope you enjoyed <3
#maeiso#hiroto maehara#yuuma isogai#maehara x isogai#fanfic#assassination classroom#ansatsu kyoushitsu#writing
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I will protect you part 1
Embry Call x reader
Grocery shopping was not your least favorite thing to do, but it was needed. You had been on a health kick and tried to eat healthier after you started going to the gym. You noticed a young man around your age had been closely behind you the whole time while shopping, but you ignored it. It was a busy place and there was no need to be weird about it.
You went to grab the same bag of chips at the same time, prompting an awkward laugh out of the both of you.
"My bad, go ahead." The boy said with a charming chuckle as he stepped back.
You paused to take a good look at him. He look oddly familiar. Brown eyes, brown hair, tan skin, tall. He looked like your boyfriend and his pack mates, by you knew he wasn't a wolf. You hadn't seen him prior to this encounter.
"Grocery store daze am I right? I'm y/n by the way."
"Nice to meet you, it's Wiley."
"Nice to meet you too."
After that day you would see Wiley more and more. It got the point that you had to mention it to your boyfriend.
Embry came over to your small apartment to hangout but mostly to fix your old blazer. The check engine light came on and your mechanic boyfriend wanted to check it out as soon as possible.
You sat in the yard in a lawn chair as he laid below the vehicle. Grease ran down his tan toned arm, making your heart swell. Even after years of dating he still make your heart race and he only got more attractive.
Embry talked about how his day went as he worked tentatively. You listened and added in when you thought necessary. Your mind was clouded by the new stranger that seemed everywhere you went. He seemed harmless really, but why was he following you? He was at the stores, the gym, even in your work a few times within the past month.
You were starting to grow paranoid. You wanted to tell Embry but you feared how he would react. The wolves were overprotective over their imprints and this would drive him mad. He would surely hunt down Wiley. At the same time you were scared. This dude showed up out of nowhere and now is seemingly everywhere you go.
If you didn't tell Embry and something happened, he would be really upset with you. What better person to protect you from a potential stalker than the love of your life that conveniently can shift into a intimidating wolf.
"Y/n? Are you even listening to me?"
You snapped out of your thoughts and looked to see Em wiping his hands off on an old red rag, "I fixed it."
"Thanks babe. Im sorry I wasn't paying complete attention. I really appreciate that. I appreciate everything you do for me."
Embry smiled before reaching down to give you a quick kiss, "I'd do anything for you, lovie." He began bending down to collect his tools.
You blushed and stood up, debating internally on whether to tell him or not. He deserved to know. It was a matter that was pressing. You leaned against the Blazer and crossed your arms.
"If I tell you something, promise not to go wolf mode?"
Embry's body tensed up. He knew that whatever you had to say wasn't going to appeal to him. You never really joke about him going all out wolf. Also you were more clingy than usual, which he wasn't complaining, but you kept asking for him to stay over.
"You can't start with that."
"Please"
Embry turned to you and let his eyes take you in. You seem stressed out and worried. He hoped it was from nothing that he had done. He was beginning to feel panicked.
"hun, whatever it is, tell me. You are starting to really freak me out right now."
"About a month ago I saw this random guy around our age. We grabbed at the same thing and we introduced ourselves. His name is Wiley. Anyway I keep seeing him everywhere I go like to the point that it is uncanny. He shows up to stores that I am at, the gym, and he will come into the flower shop when I'm working. I swear I even have seen his car go past here."
Embry began breathing heavily, "He's stalking you?"
"I don't know- i mean maybe. He seems nice so I don't really know what to think. It's just that I'm a paranoid person and its happening so much that it seems planned." You stopped as something dawned on you.
"what? What is it?"
"The other day fresh flowers were picked and were sitting in my porch. Was that you who did it?"
Embry shook his head no and gripped his hands into fists "I'll beat his ass if he even gets near you again. I'll put an end to this."
"This is what I was afraid of! I don't want you to hurt him."
"Baby, he's stalking you! He found your house and picked flowers! That's trespassing! Who knows what he will do? Until we get this figured out, you're staying at my place."
"That I agree with..." You walked closer and wrapped your arms around his torso. You were scared and wanted comfort from the person who gave it to you the best. This issue had been on your mind for weeks.
He snugly held you, his hands rubbing your back affectionately, "why didnt you tell me about this earlier?"
"I didn't want to upset you. I didn't think much of it until his truck slowly went by the other week. That's why I've been spending so many nights with you. You just make me feel safe." Your voice cracked, your eyes refusing to meet the warm brown ones that are your home.
He kissed the top of your head, "I will always keep you safe, babylove."
Together you two packed a few bags to take over to his shared house with Jacob. When arriving Embry had you go take a soothing bath because those always calmed you down.
Embry explained the situation to Jacob, a few growls leaving his throat at the thought of some creep tracking you down. His pure and beautiful imprint was being followed and that pissed him off to the very core. You were his lover to protect. He kept you safe from supernatural creatures and he would be dammed if it was a human that got to you. Jacob was understanding and vowed to help put an end to it all.
Jacob left to go see his imprint, Heather, so it was just you and Embry in the house. You put on embrys large t-shirt and walked into the livingroom to see him laying on the couch. He lazily opened his arms so that you could snuggle in with him.
"I feel utterly relaxed, as if nothing in the world could bother me... I thought maybe it was because I wasn't home alone, but it's not that. It's you. Being around you takes away all my problems and fears." You confessed, fingers tapping against his bare chest.
He blushed, hurrying his face into your neck, "Im glad. You know, it's the imprint bond. You feel it too, just not as strong."
"no, I think it's as strong."
He scoffed, rubbing circles on your hip, "you have no idea how much I love you. My heart literally beats for you, y/n. It has since we were kids."
Now it was your turn to blush. You knew embry before he turned into a wolf, you actually had known him since you were born. Your mom's were life long best friends and that prompted you two being together all of the time.
Embry was your rock growing up, your best friend. Years spent with him made you slowly realize that you loved him. Neither of you would admit it until he imprinted on you. It seemed that Billy Black, your dad, and Harry Clearwater had bet on it happening since you guys were toddlers. It evident that you two were made for one another.
"You're my world, Em."
He hummed in agreement. He nudged your hand and you knew what he was up to. A grin made its way onto his face as you slid your hand under his shirt, letting it run up and down his back.
"You're a spoiled boyfriend." You mumbled, scratching his back lightly.
He sighed in contentment, "I'm aware. And I thank my ancestors for it everyday.... I don't know what my life would be like if something happened to you and I didn't have you anymore."
"Don't even think about that kind of thing."
Embry slightly pulled away. He stood up and walked to the window.
"Em-"
"quiet." He put his finger up to silence you.
Your heart sank for a second at his tone but realized he was trying to watch something out the window. Something that had his full attention because he failed to sense you coming up beside him.
He noticed you and pulled you closer to his side. The light blue truck was parked across the road and there sat Wiley inside it. Your heart stopped.
"Embry, I know what you're thinking, but don't. I fear being left alone." You said, tightly grabbing his hand.
"And what? Continue to let him do this shit? He is right there, babe. I am going to confront him right now before he has the chance to slip away."
As he fumbled around the dimly lit room to put shoes on, you were shaking. You feared the outcome of this situation. Embry was level headed but when it came to your safety and well-being he wasn't. you hoped Wiley would be gone before Embry got outside.
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What You Deserve
A/N- This is not actually part of the story, its a unused story that I spent a couple weeks writing so I didnt have the heart to delete it although I scrapped it from the original story line. So please know that I did use some of these scenes in my rewrite.
Summary- 5.7k Curtis Evertt and Y/N. Early Years. You sit with a dying member of the train and listen to her talk about her late husband, and the idea of Soulmates crosses your mind. Do they exist?
Warnings- Death, Almost a Non Con situation. Curtis having doubts that hes good enough. Boom, got them all I think.
You sat with the older woman, Sheri for some time that day, perched on the end of her bunk, one leg folded underneath you and one dangling over the edge, her hand interlaced with your own. Sheri was dying your mother informed you that morning, and you simply couldnt let her pass off all alone. Your fingers interlaced with hers in that moment, yours young soft and supple, to her knobby jointed ones, age spots sprinkled across what felt like paper thin softness, like you press to hard it would fall apart. Every now and then a weak wet cough would spring forth, and you would lean forward to pat her mouth softly of any spittle that happened to escape. It was the least you could do for her, try to let her keep her dignity.
“Child, you shouldnt be here watching this.” Sheri would sputter, hazy eyes narrowing at you, knowing you wouldnt leave even if she was to send you away.
You shrugged, and resettled the blankets. “Where else would I go Sheri? Mom and Dad have everything all set in the medic bay, and I got lonely. Who better to keep me company?”
She snorted and coughed once more, raising her hand to wipe at her mouth before you could. “Hmmm, well Curtis comes to mind.”
You blush a bit and look away, which she grinned seeing your lovesick reaction. “Uh huh... Sheri, hes just a friend. And hes got better things to do. Like getting ready with McGregor.” Sheri rolled her eyes at you, and shifted to make herself more comfortable. “Child, ive see the way you two look at one another. I might be old, Im not blind. If you two would just admit your feelings are more then friends, then who knows. Might be the best thing you ever experience. I remember when I told Nathan how I felt. He was all stumbling over his words, spilling it as well.”
You chuckle at her memory, remembering Nathan well when you first came on the train, he was fiercly protective of his wife, and doted on Sheri, loved her with his last breath. You encourage her to speak more of her past, how Nathan and her had a whirlwind romance that ended with the two of them eloping. How when her father found out, he banned her from the house, and the first home she shared with Nathan was nothing more then a room with a bathroom, it was all they needed to start. “It got better, he was accepted to a university, and worked as a janitor at night, I was a waitress in a small off the interstate diner, along with babysitting. It was hard, but we appreciated all that we had.” Sheris eyes slipped closed and she mumbled. “Okay, Im gonna nap now, come back later Y/N, and we will talk some more.” the womans head tipped to the side, and you stayed long enough to be sure she was sleeping.
Drawing your way out, you are sure to slide the curtain closed for her privacy, and start making another round to see to other people, chat with them, just see if they need anything in general. You dont notice the wandering eyes following you, weaving through the people till you got to a quiter part of the tail end. You didnt notice, not until its to late when an arm shoots out in front of you, making you pause momentarily as it blocked you. “What the... Eric, what do you want?” You try to duck under his arm, but the mans grasp on your arm pauses you. A glance his way showed a handsome young man, blond locks curling around green eyes, that glinted coldly at you, and he firmly without any choice of your own backed you against the wall. “See youve been playing little home nurse again Y/N”
“Just helping mom and dad, can you please let go?” You try tugging your arm from his grasp and his other hand came up to your face to trace the curve, obviously not ready to loosen his hold, for whatever reason you would clam up around him, your heart fluttering and your breath quickening. Some would think it was innocent attraction. But it was more fear of what he would eventually do to you if given the chance.
“When you going to let me kiss you huh? I dont see why you keep fighting me on this.” He hovered closer, his breath washing over your face and you wrinkle your nose at it. It was hot and sour to you, you tried to pull back but there was no where else to go, so the back of your head would thump against the cold metal wall.
“Im not, I dont want to and you cant change my mind.” You wriggle once more trying to get him to stop digging into your arm. “So how about you go find one of the other girls? I know there are plenty who want to be with you.”
“To easy, I rather like the one who denies me” His voice dropped deeper, making you panic sightly. His eyes, you hated the way he would stare at you, following you from wherever he was, like you were a prize to be had. "I figured it's about time I change your mind about it though." You strain out of his touch on your face and go to push against his chest to stumble him back.
"I said no! Fuck no would I ever be with you, let alone kiss you" you snap at him, turning to leave, put distance between you two, back in a crowd. Eric was to coward to try to anything with people around. He snarled though, wrapping an arm around you.
Effectively he pinned your arms helpless and your back against your chest, falling back harder then you expected, making you helpless, his hand clasped over your mouth, effectively muffling any protests you had. "What you think your to good for someone like me sweetheart. If your good enough to get Curtis's dick wet, think you can mine as well without this much of a fight." Your eyes widened at his words. I haven't, were not, stop... Your panic is washing over you, and he manipulated your head to fall back to his shoulder, lemmegolemmegolemmego, you try twisting out. Then he pressed his face in your neck, and bit you, what started as a sloppy kiss turned into a bruising bite, screaming at the shock of pain and you try kicking him hard enough in the leg behind you to drop him. The tread of your boot slid down the inside of his leg, and he pushed you away from him to crash you against the trains wall, hard enough to bounce you off, making you groan from the harsh impact.
Erics hand whipped you around, effectively pinning you with his body. No way to leverage a kick again, and hands pinned your arms down to keep from attacking. "Fucken shit head!" Your voice raised into yelling at him, where was everyone? It was eerily quiet and no one around, he smirked at your struggles, dawning on you when you saw how turned on, felt how turned on. That foreign bulge dug into your belly. "Keep struggling Y/N, just makes me hard for you, so cute thinking you don't want this."
"Your vile Eric, like those front end pigs" nothing but disgust dripping from your tone, trying to hide your fear. But he knows, it just widens his predatory grin knowing your words were masking the fear coursing through your veins. His lips hovered so close, mocking tone as he brushed them barely against yours, as you tried tilting your face away. “Come on Y/N, just one little kiss for me. Do it and I will let you go.”
You glare at him and spit, right in the fuckers face, it runs down his eyes and nose, and you smirk at him as he starts cussing and wiping his face on his sleeve. “You little fucken cunt whore! Nasty pig think you can get away with that shit?!” His hand releases you and goes to hit you when a grasp catches his wrist, wrenching it back. Both yours and Erics eyes go wide in surprise, and you see Curtis glowering behind him, firmly twisting Erics arm hard, then harder again he snarls out. “She sure as fuck is gonna get away with it. I think she told you no”
Curtis jerked Erics arm further and a crack was followed by Eric screaming and letting you go, you slid away from his grasp, Curtis jerking him forward to take where he had you pinned before. They were evenly matched in size, but Curtis had him crushed between his body and metal, his face distorted as you glanced up. It struck you in this moment just how opposite these two men were. Curtis never once raised his voice in the time youve known him,but he had to raise above Erics squealing out in pain and anger. “When a person tells you no, It fucken mean no. You owe Y/N an apology.” He pulled Eric off the wall, and kicked at the back of his knees to drop him in front of you.
Curtis loomed over him, his arm still firmly twisted up between his shoulder blades, and growled in the mans ear. “Say it, or Im going to wrench it right off your body.”
“Im sorry!” you could see the effort it took Eric to say it, but Curtis clearly wasnt satisfied.
“AGAIN!” This time he really roared, Eric cowering a bit, and remorseful, he started again.
“Im sorry Y/N, I promise to never touch you again!” Curtis glances at you and nods that its okay, he had him firmly and you stepped forward, grasping the mans hair, and tipping his head back.
“Touch me ever again, or ANYONE on this train, your dead, do you hear me Eric? I will have no problem watching you die, either by my hand or another. Am. I. Fucking. CLEAR?”
“Yes! god yes, just let me go, it wont happen again.” Eric pleads, and you step away from Eric, and circle around to Curtis’s side. Shoving him harshly away, Eric rolled to a stand and clutched his arm, racing away as fast as he could. The coward, would probably make up some lie to cover face when he made it to your father went to reset the arm. You stood next to Curtis, still fuming. Your fear from earlier forgotten, now you were just enraged watching where the coward disappeared.
“Hey, he aint gonna try messing with you again.” Curtis let his hand rest against your shoulder, looking down at you. He couldnt help but admire you in your rage and fury. Your cheeks were flushed red, and whisps of your hair curled around your face, your eyes bright as you dragged in air sharply to blow it out. Then you turned your gaze, softening just looking at him, and could see you start to loose that edge of your temper. He did that for you.. Curtis gaze softened in return and you turn into him, sliding your arms around his waist and pressing your face in against his chest.
“Thank you for looking out for me Curtis.” his hands braced against your back and seemed to envelope you. If possible he would just hold you like that for alot longer, but you pulled away, keeping it just friends. Maybe you noticed the way his heart jumped, or the way his throat caught in his throat. And it had been that way for monthes now, seeing you in this whole other way. Since that night you fought him, trying to defy that you would ever eat again. Something shifted that day, and yet he held back from telling you, mentioning it. Honestly he didnt deserve someone like you, for all the blackness in his soul. It was better you two just stay this. Stay friends.
“Your welcome Y/N, I came to let you know Sheri, shes asking for you specifically. Your mom asked me to come get you.” Curtis was about to walk you back, but your eyes widened, and you sprinted up the aisle and out of sight before he could even think to catch up. Unsure of why you were rushing, he followed along behind, and hovered nearby, seeing glimpses of your hair as you were ducked in the bunk, and worried about intruding, he inched forward a bit enough to hear you, make sure it was all okay. Your voice was soft, almost sorrowed as you spoke.
“Im here Sheri, Im sorry I didnt come sooner...”
Unintelligible to Curtis at the moment, it only sounded older, raspier and you gave a small chuckle at whatever was said.
“I already told you, were friends, Curtis and I.” your voice seems to be teasing at this, and guilt at eavesdropping, Curtis turned away from the two of them, those last words echoing in his minds. Friends. Thats all they were, and all they would ever be. He had to accept it. You werent really his, and he needed to stop feeling responsible for you. The thought alone made him feel slightly depressed and heavy in his chest, hollow. It made him feel hollow, and he fell right in line with the others shuffling to the front to collect there daily rations.
You curled up near Sheris side, in the time you left her, she just gotten worst, and the both of you knew it really was just a matter of time now. For a while Sheri fell back into stories of the past, mixing You and Nathan up, once in a while she will talk to you like you were her husband. Her soft knobby hands grasping yours, and a smile etching on her tired face.
“Im so tired Nathan, whats it like?” She would say with her eyes closed, and you with your head slightly bowed, trying not to let your tears fall yet, you put on a smile instead and nod softly.
“Yea Sheri Dear, its nice. All love and kindness. You never hurt, your always warm and we can be together.”
“But is there Hershey Bars Nathan? And dont you lie to me, cause I always know.”
You laugh slightly at it, barely remembering them yourself, but you do your best. “Of course, every day I will get you all the chocolate you want.”
Sheri hums as if happy, and her eyes open, looking up at you. “Oh child you dont have to stay.” Back to herself again, she folded her hands around yours and patted them softly. “Thank you for sitting with me, Nathan told me hes waiting for me, and Im ready to go... Im ready to see him again, My Nathan.” She slowed her movements and drifted off to sleep. At some point your mother checks in on you. “Want me to sit with her and you go get some sleep?”
A gentle shake of your head and smile, youve done this before... the silent wait, the death watch. “No, its okay. I will see you in the morning.” Your mother nods with understanding, life on the train, these past 10 years made you grow up faster then you should. It did for all of you.
You sat there with her, refusing to leave this time, still holding her hand, that was limp and warm in your own, tracing over her knuckles and along the top of her hand, aged, weathered. Nothing really last forever, and in these thoughts Sheri drifted away, in her sleep. Just as she wanted.
When you felt her just, become a body once more, you let your tears run free now, falling in the womans blankets, while you readjust her to cover her completely, shifting to a stand a bit weak legged from the hours you were there. You went to find your mother, but see shes sleeping, both your parents are. Looking up and down the aisle, you really dont want to be alone, not now. Not after having to say goodbye. It was moments like these you missed your little brother, having someone to hold in your arms and remember all the good memories through your sorrow.
Without even thinking about it, you wander, and soon your standing in front of a bunk youve never been into, but you knew who was there. You could hear him snore softly, and shift in his sleep. A soft rustle of his coat, a shadow in the darkness. Your heart catches, and it aches. It aches for your friend, for how excited she was to see her husband again. How you dont know if she really was though. “Curtis?” Your voice is soft, your not even sure you said it. But within seconds he sleepily stuck his head out, and hand wiping at his eyes and brows coming together in concern. “Y/N? Whats wrong? Are you okay?”
You nod softly and maybe you shouldnt, it was such an odd request but it bubbles right out of your throat into words. “I dont... I dont want to be alone, please?” Your gaze lifts and it takes him a few seconds to register what your asking for, when it clicks, he doesnt even hesitate, his hand reaching out to grasp yours and help you up. Maybe he should send you home, send you back. But your looking so fragile in the dark, alone.
When you settled in, Curtis felt the bunk warm up between you two, and you laid curled up near his side, not touching , but nearby. Your breathing was fast paced and uneasy. Nervous... Fuck shes nervous. He turned to his side, and reached out to grasp your chin lightly to look up at him, since you had your face tucked down. “Y/N, want to tell me whats going on?” Curtis figured it was best to get to the bottom of what was bothering you, why you came to seek him like this.
“Do you believe in soulmates and such Curtis?” You start to loosen up, folding your hands under your head as you roll to your side as well, looking back at him. Curtis brow furrowed a bit at the very odd question from you, and gave a light shrug at it. “Im not entirely sure Y/N, I never thought about it honestly. My folks werent exactly the most loving towards each other, kinda like... “ He tried to think of how to compare them to that you might remember. “Al and Peggy Bundy from that comedy. I dont know if you would even know what Im talking about. But anyways, always kinda mean to one another, but they just stayed together. Soulmates? I dont know if they exist. Why?”
You vaguely recalled what he was talk about, the theme song playing a bit through your mind, you remembered your dad watching it, but you never paid attention to what he was watching. “Yea I know what your talking about Curtis. I was sitting with Sheri during her last bit, and she thought I was her husband. It just... she talked to him like they hadnt missed a beat, although its been years. I did my best to give her answers for him. I just, think I witnessed what that would be.” Curtis reached out and wrapped you up in his arms, understanding now that you were saying Sheri was gone. Doing that sit was never easy. Clearly this one effected you. But certainly not in the way he fully expected.
You let him pull you in close, twisting to lean in against his chest while he held you, his hand was rubbing up and down your back in a comforting manner. It lulled you to close your eyes, and after a few moments, you heard him speak. A rumble in his chest making you stir to look up at him. At this angle, you couldnt see his eyes. “Before this, did you believe in that notion? Soul mates, think they could find each other in a life like this?” Curtis question made you pull up to sit next to him, so you could properly see him. See if he was teasing you, although he didnt have that tone he did when he was, or if he was being serious in his question. Crystal blue eyes stared up at you, with nothing but seriousness, and maybe hope?
You studied Curtis for a few moments, and as sometimes happened to you, your heart seemed to speed just a bit, and you smiled at him softly, nodding. “I do Curtis, call me a hopeless romantic but we have to have hope right? Why not hope that we can find something so complete in even this hell.” You shrug and tip your head against your shoulder in that optimistic way before dropping your shrug. It was then he pushed up to sit as well, and he pulled at his lip with a drag of his teeth, seeming to think. You waited him out, your hands folding in your laps and looking at him wide eyed.
Why do you look at him like that. His resolve weakening. You were so innocent looking up at him, patient as always for him to find the words, for him to decide, for him to get rid of that guilt that he doesnt deserve you in a way more then this. You were probably the reason he hasnt done anything to reckless and gotten himself killed. Fuck it Curtis... Resolve sliding over his face and his hands cupped the sides of your face, so soft under his touch, just as he knew you would be. Soft for him, he only wanted you to ever be soft for him like this, wanting to feel you press against him, the warmth of your breath whispering into his ear that you needed him. How many times had he thought this, wanted this. And now, you were staring up at him just waiting for him to tell you all this.
“Can I kiss you Y/N?” He asked, ready to pull back the moment you looked appalled by his request, and you never utter those words, nothing changes but a quickening of your breath, and a nervous lick of your lips. Curtis wonders, have you ever been asked before? He was patient, he could wait, would wait till your ready. Its something you never admitted to yourself, but yes... you really wanted that kiss. A dip of your head and a soft “Yes” was given.
Thumbs circled over her cheekbones, and you held your breath, waiting with anticipation. His features grew soft looking at you, raking over your face for a moment, searching for a no from you before he lowered his head and pressed his lips to yours, they were softer then you been expecting, and a bit lost in what to do. But Curtis started a light nibble, a press of his tongue made you gasp in surprise. A tentative touch of his tongue against your own, and you finally started to relax into it, exploring in your own way. Although Curtis controlled your first kiss, you felt free, a rush of your senses making you pull in closer, your hands sliding up his chest and around the back of his neck.
Your fingers buried into the back of his shirt, and his own hands slid off your face, and down to your hips to pull you in closer, flushing you into his chest, and a rumbling moan crept from him. You were everything he knew you would be and more. Already it was rushing to his head, feeding a deep seated hunger he had been ignoring for the past ten years since arriving on the train. If he wasnt careful, he was going to do something he might regret, and pulled away, leaving you stunned, and giving a whimper at the loss of his lips against yours. How flushed you looked, shocked, even dare he say a hint of pleasure dazing your eyes. Your lips were swollen from his kiss, and that made him pleased he could make you look like this, just a simple kiss.
Staring at one another, it was apparent that there was no going back now, no more just best friends. You were still slightly in a daze and Curtis laid back down, his hand circling your arm to tug you to join him. “We should get some sleep.” in which you stretched out next to him. You wanted to say something, but didnt know what. The kiss, unlike anything youve ever experienced and in the dark, your fingers moved to touch your lips, smiling at the memory of it now. The feelings you had for him, had been there a long time, and until now, you never let yourself believe it was a true possibility.
Curtis on the other hand, well he was cursing himself out for what he just done. You were far to good for him and he should have known better then that. He didnt deserve you, not your honey sweet kisses he just got lost in, or the way you were so sweetly curled up next to him, trying not to intrude. Oh he was fucked... completely fucked. Why did he have to kiss you? He groaned inwards, waiting, just waiting for you to come to your senses. He was a baby murderer, it would happen soon, he was sure. You would remember what he done, and push him away, shut yourself off from him, and then in that moment, Curtis would be all alone on the train. Long after you fallen asleep, Curtis laid wide awake with his thoughts poisoning his mind.
That next day he had disappeared before you could talk to him, and kept expecting to see him, but you never did. Which was odd, cause he had a habit of finding you at various points in passing. Only place he could be was Gilliams, and that alone made you worry. Not that Gilliam was necessarily bad, but people plotted with him, talks of trying to escape was always so sush around the man, like a man of many secrets. You scolded yourself at your thoughts, knowing Gilliam was a good man. Hes helped all of you so many times, was the leader of your people. If anyone knew you felt this way, your throat closed at the idea of what could happen to you.
You were soon distracted by a 5 year old named Joey. “Hey, Its almost time, right Y/N?” he said excitedly as he ducked into the medic bay as if he owned the place, pulling on your coat and looking up with a glimmer of hope passing his face, you wink down at him, and take care of the last of the supplies. Whatever was going on with Curtis was going to have to wait. And you pushed the thoughts from your mind.
“Of course, whenever Minister Mason announces that we are passing over bridge, that means its a whole new year, and every new years what do we get?” tapping your finger on your chin, you pretend to ponder. “Oh what is it. They are white, and inside is all that yummy goodness. Hmmmm.... Frog eggs? No way to slimey! maybe a dog egg? Wait dogs dont lay eggs... Maybe a... “ at this point Joey is just about bouncing excitedly, finally bursting out.
“Chicken? Right Y/N Chicken Eggs?! I think they lay eggs.” a slightly confused look crossed his face. “Im not even sure what a chicken is.”
“Oooh! Thats what they are. And chickens run around on two legs, flap there wings and are big fluffy butts.” You cross your eyes at Joey and mimic flapping your arms, making him laugh.
“Like Miz Scarlett?” He asks, and he says it so innocently, you have a hard time not laughing, pressing a finger against his lips. “No no, she certainly doesnt look like a chicken.” Although she did that one time her nice feather down coat split down the back and feathers scattered through the tail end. You all still found the occasional feather fluttering through the aisle. Plus the woman had the tendency to be a bit over dramatic, flailing her arms around whenever she had to prove a point. Joey always had been an observant kid.
The two of you chatted about what else New Years brought, while heading out into the aisle to return him back to his mother. “were gonna have a cele-celebratition?” You chuckle and repeat the word properly. “Celebration, and it will be something like that yes.” It wasnt much, usually just a bunch of people sitting around the gate, waiting for there only treat Wilford ever gave them on the train. But it always turned into a good time, people sharing stories, and once in a while a game or two was played. “Gilliam is gonna tell us right?” Joey asks, now looking concerned.
Your brows come together, and nod, giving his little hand a squeeze. “Of course Buddy, were not gonna miss out on the best day ever, right? I will come make sure your there with everyone else.” You smile at him to assure, and he pulls up, leaping into a lower bunk to crawl over to his mom. “Mom! Y/N said its almost new years, and we get chicken eggs and maybe we get to hear stories and... “ he ended up running out of air and took a deep breath. “and Miz Scarlett doesnt look like a chicken.” You end up covering your mouth,while his mom puts him on her lap and shakes her head.
“Now Joey, you cant be telling anyone they look like chickens! Jeeze child, what am I going to do with you?” She tickled his side and he went sprawling across the bed, and rolled back up, the excitement tinging his face. “I wont, I wont... I promise!” The PA systems crackles, and you put your finger up to your lip to sush Joey, all of you tipping your head to listen. Minister Masons nasal voice crackled and stated.
“We just passed the bridge, and another year on Wilfords Miracle Train. How lucky we have all been to be here for this miraculous day. Mr.Wilford is providing everyone a treat to celebrate, be sure to come up to the front in a ORDERLY fashion, and be sure to thank him for his bountiful grace hes bestowed upon us.”
You roll your eyes to yourself for the fucking dramatics, but you tilt your head and sound excited for Joey. “Come on Kiddo! I bet hes got something real good for us.” The child looks to his mother for permission and she nods, sending him flying out of the bunk to grasp your hand and practically tugging you down the aisle, since its quite a walk for his little legs, he wanted to hurry. “Slow down Joey, we will get there” You laugh, and then Curtis sweeps past you and hauls the kid up in his arms, grinning at you as he turned around, and walked backwards, Joey, wrapping his little arm around his neck. “We got places to be, Dont We Joe?” The little boy gave a very serious nod and looked down to Curtis. “Yes sir we do.”
“Okay, okay... Im coming!” You pull up alongside Curtis with a sigh like they were being ridiculous, and once they were in sight of the front, Joey started wriggling to get down. “Put me down Curits, I want to go get in line!” in which hes swung down and as soon as his feet hit the grate, he bolts away from the two of you. The both of you hang back while others crowd to form a line. You let yourself lean against his shoulder and look up to catch his attention. “Feels like youve been hiding on me Curtis.”
“No, just been busy.” He glances at you and away, watching to make sure Joey doesnt get lost in the mayhem. Liar, hes always been a bad liar. You see right through it, and you dip around to stand in front of him. “Say that again Curtis, and mean it this time.” Your mouth curls up in a grin, and he growls a bit under his breath that he had been caught.
“Listen, yesterday...” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down. “I took advantage and I shouldnt have.”
“Curtis Everett, when have I ever done anything I didnt want to do?” You fold your arms over your chest and shake your head.
“Well...”
“That doesnt count and you know it.” Giving him a silent warning and he snapped his jaw shut. You step in closer and take a hold of his jacket, fiddling your fingers in it. “Listen to me closely, You didnt take advantage, okay, and Im not going anywhere. It wasnt bad, right?”
His eyes widened and a shake of his head to get rid of the notion, he couldnt help but touch you again, his hands moving along your arms, up to cup your face again. “Absolutely not, it was... the best kiss ive ever had.” his face softened when he said it out loud.
A slight blush crept in your cheeks, but to hear him say that, just made you more bold, knowing you werent wrong. You were ready for this moment, and never thought it was possible. “Then why do you fight it?” You asked as you slid up against him, and move to your toes to reach him, cupping the back of his neck, you bring him down to meet you, and more confident this time, you kissed him slowly. This one was yours, and the people started cheering around them at the announcement of the new year. But for Curtis, his world narrowed to the woman in his arms, nothing else existed or mattered for him. You fit in his hold, like you were meant to be. the soulmates questioned flashed through his mind and then you moaned into his mouth, and all thoughts went away for good.
He knew in that moment, there wasnt going to ever be anyone else. He might not deserve someone like you, but he wasnt going to let you go.
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“And the One Time They Did”
“And the One Time They Did“ by Looks-Clear (that’s me, yo!)
Word Count: about 3,400 Rating: Gen
@sweetness47, here is my gift to you for the Profound Bond Discord gift exchange! I hope you actually find it amusing. This is a “five times plus one time” fic, and since that’s such a well-used trope, I thought it would be funny to title each of the sections with an AO3 tag.
-o-
1. “that trope where it's a relationship told from an outsider's point of view”
The money is good, but the competition for gigs means that you take that delivery order even though it’s to a house way outside of town. Houses are good, though. Around here, that means honeymoon tourists and vacation renters, which might mean a better tip. “J. Page” is waiting for his order from Great Greens, so you pick up the bags from Yolanda’s new salad cafe and head out in your Jeep onto the river road.
The house is secluded on the less popular side of the river, off the narrow road that splits from the main. You don’t even see the black Chevy Impala parked along the side of the house until you’ve driven to the end of the tree-lined driveway. The two-story house is the kind of place you would love to live in if you wanted a lot of privacy. It’s well cared for to attract the short-term renters your town gets all summer. The house has a good roof, freshly painted siding, and healthy potted plants around the door you’re knocking on.
An upstairs window slides open with a thunk. Taking a step away from the door, you look up.
“Oh, hey.” The man leaning out the window has a smile that immediately puts you at ease. The frame catches at his flannel shirt, exposing a flash of skin above his faded jeans. He’s tall, with long hair, and the breadth of his shoulders make you glad you took the delivery job. “Would you mind… there’s a kitchen door at the back of the house. I’ll be down in a sec.” He pulls back in before you can respond.
You hesitate, thinking about the seclusion of the house and potential danger, but your gut tells you it’s OK. Nothing about the house or the classic car gives you that red flag feeling. The sun isn’t down yet. Plus, your holding an order of salads and cheesy rolls, Yolanda knows you’re delivering them and to where, and you can’t imagine it’s the dinner order of a creeper.
Things are a little unexpected when you get to the back door, though. The tall man — and he really is tall, six-four you guess — is pulling the curtain away from the window beside the kitchen door, but the door remains closed. “I have your Great Greens,” you say, lifting your two hands. You glance at the receipt and tell him the total. The food was paid with a credit card. You’re starting to despair about your tip, the line left blank to fill in.
“Great! Thanks. We really appreciate it,” he says, from the other side of the window glass.
There’s a dog door in the house door. The man disappears from the window and the door flap lift up. An envelope flips out. The man appears at the window again.
“If you could, um, put the order through the flap?” he asks.
“You don’t want to open the door?” Gingerly, you poke the dog door inward and push the bags through one at a time. The envelope turns out to have a few bills in it, a nice cash tip. You straighten up again and dust your hands off on your jeans after folding the envelope and tucking it into your pocket.
He laughs. It’s a breathy laugh, embarrassed. He ducks his head. “Can’t,” he says. “We’re, uh, sort of under quarantine.”
A surprised “Oh!” comes out of you before you can stop yourself. You wonder who else is with him in the house.
He’s quick to reassure you. “It’s not contagious. We just can’t leave the house yet.” He gives you one of those quick smiles again. The effective is magnified from being eye level and within three feet of him. You're a little glad there’s a window between you for protection.
“Thanks again,” he says.
“No problem,” you answer. With a small wave, you start back around to the front of the house, and your Jeep, only glancing back for a moment. The tall man is turning toward others entering the kitchen.
Before the curtain closes, you glimpse two other adults. You can hear them plainly through the window. A deep voice is at first excited about the meals. But then, suddenly:
“Sonoffabitch! SAM! What is this? Salad? Where’s the real food!?”
Back at your Jeep, just as a precaution, you rub your hands with the lavender scented hand sanitizer you keep in the glove box.
2. “(in my head the reader is a female but i didnt specify ir anywhere so ye)”
It’s Friday and a busy night, but when you see the delivery request come up for that same address, you take it. This time it’s for burgers from Jen’s Magnificent, which is locally famous for the MegaBurger, a four-patty monster with the works. You’re not surprised when the bags are heavy with three megas, fries and onion rings. What else would anyone order from Jen’s? The name on the credit card slip is “S. Denny.” You are wondering if the hot tall guy knows he’s not getting any veggies that aren’t deep fried.
Of course, you can guess what happened, and when it’s a different man at the front picture window asking you to go around to the back of the house, your guess is confirmed. The one with the deep voice is tall too, not as tall and not as lean, but still with nice muscle structure and also in a flannel shirt. Brothers, probably. You can see some familial resemblance.
As with the first delivery, you meet him at the back window. It’s earlier than last time and still full light out. He’s pretty anxious for the food, bouncing a little on his feet as he waits for you to slide the burger bags through the dog door.
You can’t help yourself. “Where’s the other guy?"
"Which?"
You pass the food through, straighten up and assess him. The cute one. Your brother?”
The man is already into one of the burgers. He shoves it in his face — you can’t take a bite out of a mega, you pretty much have to smash it into your mouth — and the moan he produces is, frankly, pornographic. This is a man who loves juicy meat.
You kind of want to leave him alone to it.
“The cute one," he repeats with a snort. He wipes a napkin across his mouth. "Researching,” he answers you, chewing on a mouthful. “This burger is awesome. Have you had these?”
“Actually, yeah. She makes good shakes, too.”
“This is going on my list of best burger towns,” he states. The burger disappears and when his hands are free, he wipes them on a fresh napkin. “You a local?”
You nod. He asks you a few odd questions about the town, a little bit about the history, and some information about how often tourists come through. You end up talking about your Jeep Renegade and auto maintenance, which helpfully gives you some points to go over with Roxy at the garage.
You’re back an hour later with another delivery from Great Greens, a single kale salad. You’re not surprised. The cute one is happy to see you. That's nice.
3. “Spells in general. Just spells and spells and spells”
You’ve come to think of yourself as their personal delivery person, to be honest, and it’s not only because J. Page aka Sam is a bright spot any time day or night. Feeling bold one evening, you scribble your phone number on the receipt and tell Sam, “If you guys need anything like from the grocery store or whatever, just call me. Anytime is fine.”
You’re snuggled on your couch watching Netflix when you actually get a late night call from Sam. He sounds apologetic and, weirdly, a little drunk. “Hi… Hi!” he greets a little breathlessly. “This might be a lot to ask but if you meant it about the help, I… we need someone on the outside to get these things. They’re going to sound strange, but I can’t explain what they’re for. Is that OK?”
“Does it,” you ask, “have to be right now?”
“Please, yes,” he says, words breathed out like an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know if I can take close quarters with these two past another moon cycle.” He clears his throat. “Sorry, uh. It has to be tonight because of the first quarter.” He names off some flowers, and then tells you the last one has to be picked after midnight and before dawn.
You actually have some of the list in your kitchen, dried, though it's not fresh. “The rest I can get, but I don’t know where to find that,” you tell him.
“Come to the house. It’s in the garden.”
And that’s how you end up picking lemon verbena by flashlight, in a hoodie and pajama pants, while Sam watches you from the kitchen window and points out the plants he needs. He’s glossy-eyed in the way of someone who’s had more booze than a few drinks at dinner, and pushing himself to act sober like someone who was drinking for a reason.
When you hand over the jasmine and vervain, he’s sitting on the floor at the other side of the door. You catch the dog flap on the backswing and hold it open. “Is that enough? I can get the other stuff fresh from Dara’s tea store tomorrow.”
He leans down to see you better through the opening and keeps going until he’s lying sideways on the floor. He seems vaguely surprised that the world has gone horizontal. “This is what I need to get started,” he pronounces carefully. He seems to consider getting upright. Instead, he rolls over onto his back. His hair, long and silky, flops beside his head, except for an errant lock that lays across his forehead. His beard is growing in, and the mountain man thing really works for him. He looks like he might nod off right there, lying on the floor.
“So… what are you doing, casting a love spell or something?”
He groans. “Those idiots activated one. I’m trying to…” he lifts a hand and makes a serpentine gesture in the air with his finger, “wiggle open a loophole. So we can leave. And Dean can stop punching holes in the walls looking for hex bags.” He wakes up more fully and sits up suddenly. Running a hand through his hair, he laughs. There’s a tint of panic to it.
You can see that he’s about to dissemble about what he said, so you cut him off with a change of topic. “I knew the lady that used to live here. When I was a kid, we called it the witch’s house. She had, uh, twenty cats.”
“This is a dog door,” he points out.
“I know, right?” You smirk. “Do you like dogs?”
“I do,” he says without elaboration. “Can you tell me anything else about this house? Past owners?”
He’s sobering up. You answer with a shrug. “I mean. It’s a rental now. As you know, obviously.”
“A lot of strangers come through town? Have you noticed anyone that stands out? People you know, acting out of character? Has anyone been sick with an unexplainable illness?”
“We get summer tourists, mostly.”
“Anyone weird?”
“We are the weirdos, mister.” You ease the door flap closed. “I’ll bring the rest of your list when you guys order dinner tomorrow,” you say. It’s late, and you need to go home.
4. “Destiel are lowkey pining in the background”
Mylene adds in a cellophane bag of shortbread with the pie order. The scents in the bakery make you wish you were taking pie home for yourself, but no, this French Apple, ordered by “John Paul Jones,” is heading to the house you’ve been delivering to all week. On the nights when you don’t have an order, they order pizza delivery, it turns out. Pia, who owns Ristorante Raduno, mentioned it when you were fulfilling your craving for her incredible lasagna. Piggybacking on the pie order is a double side of bacon that you pick up from Dee's diner.
You honk when you pull up to the house, knock at the front door, then walk to the back yard per the usual. The Impala has enough dust on it to dull the black finish, and that strikes you as evidence that they really aren’t leaving the house. It was clear when you where conversing with him that burger guy loves his “Baby”. He wouldn’t let that car languish, getting covered in tree leaves and windblown dirt.
“You must be Mr. Jones,” you say to the new face at the kitchen window. “Are there any more of you in there or is three your crowd?”
“You’ve met the other two,” he says. He doesn’t exactly smile, but his eyes are kind, deep blue and full of unspoken thoughts. He has a voice like someone after a night of loud singing and drinking. It doesn’t match his appearance. Not with the suit ensemble including the trench coat he is inexplicably wearing indoors.
“I guess pie and bacon is your thing?” you ask, covering a laugh, and pop the bakery box through the dog door. He takes the box once it has passed the threshold. "Whatever makes you happy." You hear his “thank you” before the dog door swings closed.
“The pie is for —” he catches himself. “Sandy.” He was about to say a name that started with D, you’re sure of it. Dean, you recall, from Sam’s slip up. “He likes pie. And bacon.” He stares at the pie as if it is about to impart hidden wisdom. "It makes him happy."
Your tip was included when the bakery was paid, so you don’t have a reason to linger, but you do anyway, curious. “This lockdown is hitting him hard, isn’t it? Not being able to take his car out for a drive?”
He gives a helpless little micro-shrug, but concern shows on his face. You think you see some guilt there, too. What had Sam said about it, that “those idiots” had activated the spell?
“Look, I know it’s none of my business, but…” you hesitate, just for a minute. “Pie is good and all, and that pie is really good, but words are good, too?” His piercing attention actually makes you take a step back. You break eye contact, kicking the brick paving at your feet with the toe of your shoe. “Saying your feelings instead of, um, eating them?” You’ve probably blown it, so you scram without a backward look.
5. “Pray for Sam”
You glare at your phone until you wake up enough to recognize the text as Sam’s. Then you stare at it, trying to make sense of what it says. Meet him? The coffee hut he’s talking about is at the edge of town. It’s the one thing open at this time of day, since Tena is one of those disgusting morning people.
When you get there, you see that Sam is one of those disgusting morning people, too. His hair may have been tied back during his run, but now it’s loose. The sweaty and wild thing works for him even better than the mountain man look. He’s shaved the beard. You hop out of the Jeep and stroll up to where he is doing some stretches. He straightens up and shakes the hair out of his face.
“You’re out of quarantine,” you say.
He answers your smile with his own. His eyebrows go up when he smiles. “You helped. With those herbs you picked, and everything else. I wanted to say thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” you formally reply. “I notice you got out of that house as early as possible this morning.”
When he rolls his eyes, you have your confirmation. “Ha ha, yeah,” he answers. “Gotta, you know, have some space. From the lovebirds,” he adds with a sound that is part relief and part exasperation.
“Are you getting coffee?”
“I’m picking some up to take back,” he says. “No rush on that.”
“Tena makes a mean superfood smoothie.” You gesture at the espresso hut. “Would you like to get smoothies, go sit by the river, and watch the ducks? Until you’re ready to head back to the house?”
6. “If you think this has a happy ending... you're right well done you”
You figure, that’s it, good-bye, they’re gone, the three that were trapped by the spell on the house. Either Sam figured out how to loosen the spell long enough for them to exit, or burger guy and pie guy hooked up and completed the spell’s requirement. You couldn’t exactly talk about it with Sam, while you sat by the water and drank your breakfast smoothies. You’re pretty sure that he knows you were giving them hints, really vague hints but still hints, but it’s not like you could ask if he knows, even now that the spell is broken.
They’re not gone yet, as you find out when Kitty from the General Store asks you to run a delivery out to the house. You stop by the General Store to pick up the bag. It’s heavy with an assortment of stuff indicating wall repair: sandpaper, drywall patch kits, a paint tray and paint roller. They’ve paid with a credit card again, a tip included.
You text Sam to let him know you’re the one bringing their supplies, and ask if they need anything else, which is how you end picking up another pie and a trio of sandwiches. When you get to the house, you see that all the windows and doors are open. Sam is sitting in the Impala with his long legs sprawling out of the open car door. He puts down a book when he sees you get out of your Jeep.
“Let me get that. Must be heavy, sorry,” he says.
“Could be worse. Megaburgers, or cans of paint.”
His hair slides over his ears as he shakes his head. “My brother found paint in the attic, at least.”
“I’m glad this is ending with some DIY, instead of you burning the place down or something,” you say without thinking. “It’s usually newlyweds that stay here. We’re a quiet community.”
He gives you an assessing look.
You hand him the bag from the hardware store. You hand him the food, too, before he steps into the house. You hate to see him go, but watching him walk away? That’s worth the price of admission.
He yells up the stairs that food has arrived. In a minute, the other two guys come down, both suspiciously dusty on their backsides and elbows, both looking stupidly happy. Dean puts his arm around his sweetheart’s waist. Pie guy leans in and blesses Dean with a soft kiss. Pie guy must be Castiel, the angel.
The infamous Winchesters. As hunters go, they don’t seem all that bad.
Like every other kid that grew up in your town, you know how the house spell works. The couples that honeymoon here don’t even notice when they get locked in, and they usually break the spell within minutes with their easy “I love you”s. Castiel and Dean were in love but must not have said the words to each other, yet, when they entered the house, and Sam was caught as a bystander.
You slip away before they catch you watching, get in your Renegade, and head out to the main road. At first, it had seemed like everyone’s bad luck, that some travel blogger had written about the weird little house in an idyllic riverside tourist town, and that particular trio had come to check it out. Your town has been a quiet haven for witches since before you were born.
In the end, it turned out OK. Better than OK. Who doesn’t like a happily ever after?
-o-
#profound bond gift exchange: quarantine & chill#pbgiftexchange#profoundnet#sam winchester/reader#supernatural#destiel#fluff#5+1 things
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Jaskier x fem!Reader pt.5
IT’S THE FINALE!
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
It turned out longer than I intended, but i didnt want to split it up even more, so here it goes. i enjoyed writing it, i hope the time jump didnt mess up with your invesment in the story and what not and i hope you enjoy how this story ends!
Requests are open [no smut, everything else goes]
Warnings: swearing
Word count: 2,993
feel free to leave your reviews of this full story, any and all feedback is appreciated <3
We tried. I promise, we tried to find a home, but nothing felt quite right.
There were a few buildings, we stayed for a couple of weeks, feeling a bliss of finally settling down, but soon, something urged us to move again. A voice telling us this place wasn’t right. We met people too, made some friends, stayed with them for a while. But we ended up on different paths.
We tried solitude too, just me and him, enjoying the nature. We loved that, as I slowly began learning how to play the lute – even if I was horrible at it. Sky preferred the wilderness as well. But nothing felt quite right. Something was always missing.
And then we parted ways. I don’t quite know how it happened. I wish I did. I tried to pinpoint it, but to no avail. We loved each other so much, but yet not enough. Something just didn’t fit. I settled back to my roots – found a bar I actually liked working at. It wasn’t just piss and ale, it was travellers with stories, women encouraging each other.
Sky and Jaskier started going on adventures without me. Each one longer than the last. Until we stood there, as I hugged Sky goodbye, and kissed Jaskier, knowing I won’t see them for a while this time.
Maybe for forever.
It’s been a year since I last heard Jaskier’s voice, and I still wake up at night, craving it like air. I catch myself humming many of his ballads, even the one I hate the most. If any travellers mention any bards, I grill them trying to find out if it could be him.
So far, it hasn’t.
I miss Sky too, but I know he is far happier actually running around, going places. A horse like him could never thrive in the back of a tavern. I now realize bard is a similar way, there is only so much he can write about staying in one place. I had to let them go.
However, I never expected to meet other people from the past.
I serve ale to one of travellers when taverns doors open. I glance at it, not expecting much, but almost drop the cup when I see who walks in.
“Geralt.” I am drowned by a mix of emotions. Part of me wants to run away and hide, pretend I never saw him. Part of me wants to run to him and hug him and tell him how much I missed him. How I much I miss us all. His yellow eyes scan the bar, stopping at me. “Hi.”
“Long time no see.” The other travellers moves out of the way as Witcher approaches me. He hasn’t aged a day in these couple of years. I feel like I am about to cry, so I take a deep breath in, until I see him scan the room. Looking for something.
“Jaskiers not here.” I can’t stop my voice from breaking, and Geralt immediately catches that. Our eyes meet.
“Why? Where is the bard?” I sense a hint of worry in his voice and my sad heart saddens even more.
“He’s fine. I think he is.” I cover my face with my hands, holding back the tears. Barely, tough. “We parted ways, Geralt. I don’t know.”
“Why?” I slam my hand on the table, startling some men who were nearby.
“I don’t know, Geralt. I really don’t know what the fuck went wrong, or where.” My voice shakes. “But ever since that stupid dragon, we been drifting. And we drifted, I guess.”
“I’m sorry.” I press my lips together.
“Yeah. As am I.” I say sarcastically, until I take a breath in, chasing the anger away. “It’s been two years. How have you been?”
“Y/N.” I stare at the Witcher, who literally just ignored my question.
“What?” I bitterly ask, as he sits down.
“You miss him.” Geralt is not taking his eyes off me and I try my best to not crumble under his stare.
“Of course I miss him. Just like I miss Sky.” My voice grows quiet. “Just like we both missed you.”
“I am sorry about that, Y/N.” I know he means it, but I chase his apology out of my mind. I wont allow myself to forgive so easily. I simply can’t.
“Yeah well, it’s a bit too late for that, don’t you think?” I pour him some ale, placing it on the table. “Ale’s on me. Enjoy.”
I walk around the bar, leaving the Witcher behind. I need to catch a breath. I slam the taverns door, breathing in the fresh air. Streets are silent. I glance around, seeing Roach tied to a horse post. I rush to my old friend.
“Hey beauty.” I don’t care if Witcher threatens to break my hands, I hug his horse, who neighs in response.
She looks as healthy as ever. Still strong. I am glad to see her so well. I wonder if Sky is okay, it never once struck me to ask Jaskier if he knows how to take care of horses.
I am not even sure if he can take care of himself.
I chase the thought away, petting Roach. I cant allow myself drift into those dark thoughts. It’s a slope, and I always end up falling all the way to the bottom. I glance at the tavern, not really believing Geralt was sitting there. And he apologized. I wonder what would Jask do, if he was here.
But then, he had a heart far bigger than mine or Geralt’s. He would forgive his old friend in a heartbeat, asking about all the adventures he missed. I don’t realize I’m gripping the reigns and softly sobbing until I hear Witcher grunt.
I wipe away my tears, letting go of Roach, before I face him.
“I don’t believe Jaskier would leave you just like that.” I avoid his gaze. “Tell me what happened, maybe I can help.”
“There is nothing you can do Witcher.” I raise my voice. “People change. Jaskier did. As did I.”
“You still love him.” I now glare at Geralt, but his face remains emotionless.
“Love is not a thing that just goes away. Even if the person you love isn’t there, the feeling stays.” I hiss, as Roach anxiously snorts. “We never stopped loving you, Geralt. I will never stop loving him. But sometimes people leave, and you just have to deal with that.”
“But you both loved each other.” I roll my eyes, not believing I am actually having this conversation with him now.
“You also loved us. But you still left.” I bitterly point out. I hang my head low. “He never stopped singing about you.”
Geralt doesn’t respond, and I wipe more tears that managed to escape. I would go against all the monsters we ever fought just to hear Jaskier sing again. Just to see him annoy the mighty Witcher.
My mind sometimes goes to the day I first met them, and they saved me from a shitty job I had. They showed me the world, showed me how to live. I was convinced I would have to leave them, but with time, that feeling went away.
And then I lost them both. Sky too. I ended up back where I began, even more alone than before. My heart was fuller, sure, but it was fuller of sadness and grief over lost times.
“You want to look for him?” I lift my teary eyes, feeling like I lived a thousand lifetimes already. I wanted to see him again, but I was simply too tired to do it. Too scared of losing him again.
“He knows where to find me, Geralt.” My voice is quiet. “He knows he has a home here, if he wishes to come back.”
“Hm.” I smile as this brings back so many memories, a simple hm taking me years back. I sigh.
“I’m glad you stopped by. I missed you.” I place my hand on Roach, petting her cheek. “I missed her too.”
“You miss adventures, Y/N.” He argues but I smile, with a heavy heart looking back at Witcher.
“I miss having a home.” I confess, realizing my home was with them both. There was something so complete when we all were together, like puzzle pieces, joining. Things weren’t always nice, or easy, but it was home. I felt safe, accepted and loved. Always encouraged to grow. I pull out my silver dagger, the one Geralt gave me, and show it to him now. “This is all I have left now.”
“Don’t you want to look for home?” I shake my head.
“I am not an adventurer, Geralt.” I smirk, handing him the dagger. “I need to settle down.”
He takes it out of my hands, and I pull the other, iron one, out too. He takes that as well. I cant bear another farewell, so I pat his arm, walking back in the tavern, leaving him behind yet again. The rest of the day passes calmly, none of the men ask me about how I know the Witcher.
I don’t rush to tell anything either.
The evening comes and I got to my room upstairs. I try to hurry up and settle in my bed but tonight it feels especially empty. I try my best to stay calm, but tears take over, and I spend another lonely night.
When I finally fall asleep, the bliss doesn’t last long, as nightmares rush in, slashing my throat, shaking me awake. I don’t go back to bed until dawn. I simply can’t. I enjoy the sunrise through my window, breathing in the fresh breeze, looking out as some of townsfolk wake. I hear horses neigh in nearby stable. Chatter starts downstairs.
When I go there, room grows silent. I realize I must look horrible, but I don’t care.
“Y/N, you don’t have to work today.” The tavern owner tells me. He’s an elder man, who in many ways reminds me of Borch. I nod.
“I came here for some ale, that’s all.” I quietly say.
The day goes by. Some of women come and try to comfort me, asking if they can help. I appreciate their concerns, but push them away. I tell them I fine, and I tell myself that, to the point where I almost believe it.
Weeks go by and Geralt seems to become a distant memory again. People at the bar also stop their whispers whenever they see me. I finally manage to sleep for more than two hours. Things are fine again. I can almost pretend I never left the first tavern I worked at. I can almost erase all of the memories.
But sometimes I can still taste Jaskier’s smile.
I sigh, going back to my sad reality, where I am cleaning up ale from the tables. Just how my life was always meant to be. Until I hear a lute behind me.
When I look for the sound, I see him. Just like the first day, wearing a matching pale blue suit. However, this time it’s different, it has gold roses all over it. I see Geralt behind him, looking moody as always. I didn’t expect to see them separately ever again.
Yet alone together.
I stare at bard in disbelief, as he continues playing, but he doesn’t sing. Our eyes meet, and it feels like the rest of the tavern disappears. I am overwhelmed with emotions, so much pain but so much relief to see him again. My heart and all crevices of the soul fill with love and fear of it being ripped away again. Even hope manages to squeeze in.
His melody sounds sad, but hopeful. I could listen to it forever, but then again, I could just listen to him forever. When the music stops, I realize half the tavern is taring at us. Most of them know Jaskier, they have met him before, and some of them saw me talk to Witcher. I guess they never would have put all three of us together.
I don’t blame them.
“Y/N.” My gaze is drawn from the men, back to the bard. His voice proves to me that he’s real. It’s deeper than I remember.
“Jaskier.” I don’t know what to say. What to do. I blink, as if to see if he won’t disappear. I look over his shoulder. “Geralt?”
“I ran into the bard.” His voice rings in my ears as I begin to feel dizzy. This is too much. “I was going this way, so I just stopped by again.”
“Hm.” I say, as the room goes black.
When I open my eyes, I don’t expect to see Jaskier, but yet, here he is, looking down to me as his eyes paint with worry and relief at the same time. I see Geralt standing in the corner, with his eyes also glued to me.
“Oh thank heavens you’re okay.” I look back at the bard, still, short for words.
“What happened?” I ask, my voice cranky.
“You passed out.” I roll my eyes at Witcher, trying to sit up. Jaskier rushes to help me, but I don’t allow him. Pushing his hands away, sitting up myself.
“I figured that much.” I glance at Jaskier. “Why are you here?”
“I thought you’d be happy to see me.” My heart aches and I want to reach for his hand, but I stop myself.
“I am. Truly, I am. I just, I don’t understand.” I close my eyes, slowly breathing in.
“Ah, well. Geralt ran into me and Sky in one of the towns nearby. I was just playing with lute outside one of the taverns when I saw him.” I glance at Geralt, who shows no emotion. “He didn’t even say hello, he just walked up and punched me in the groin.”
“You deserved it.” Geralt grunts, and I feel a smile creep on my face.
“Either way, that was his way of saying hello. After we caught up a little he was eager to tell me he ran into you.” Jaskier’s tone changes from playful, to serious. “He told me you looked really… unwell. And sad.”
“How kind of him.” I say, sarcastically. Jaskier takes my arm in his, and I find this sensation so familiar my beating heart calms down almost right away.
“I wanted to come back sooner, I did. I just… I was scared.” I squeeze his hand just a little, encouraging him to talk. “I was scared you might be angry at me. I didn’t even consider the fact that you could be missing me too.”
“Of course I missed you, Jaskier!” I lean closer to the bard. “I missed you every day since you were gone. I was never angry you left, I understand this domestic life isn’t exactly for you. I just wanted to see you again, to hold you again. You can ask almost anyone at the tavern, they all know.”
“It just seemed like we were drifting, and it was painful to see you going through that.” I cover my face with my hands, hiding my frustration.
“Drifting apart or not, I still love you Jaskier.” I cry out, not hiding my emotions anymore. I look at him now, also teary eyed. “Not for a split second did I stop loving you.”
“Neither did I.” Jaskier agrees, gripping my hand even tighter.
“So this was a pointless fallout?” I glance at Geralt, smiling.
“Nothing is pointless.” I face Jaskier again. “Even the ugliest things have beauty in them.”
“Y/N… I am so sorry.” I pull him into a hug, embracing him so tightly, I felt I might squeeze his brains out. My eyes land on Geralt.
“Thank you.” I mouth, silently. I know he went to find Jaskier. He didn’t just run into him. He did it, for us. Because Witcher too, after all these years, didn’t stop caring about us.
“Shh.” He puts his fingers on his lips, giving me a smile.
Things didn’t just go back to normal, no. It took time, and effort. But Jaskier and I put that in, and with each day we made more and more progress, becoming stronger than we ever were before. Geralt stayed with us for a few days, before embarking on another adventure. He promised he would come visit us as often as he could.
He also kindly, through many angry grunts and stares, gave Jaskier enough material to write ballads without having to leave me again. At least for a little while.
So we worked like that. We found our balance. Jaskier would sometimes harass Geralt and tag along on his ventures, once in a blue moon even I would come, just to annoy the Witcher even more. However, I preferred staying here, working. Eventually, the tavern owner decided he was too old to deal with drunken men and angry travellers, so I took over for him.
The tavern was officially mine. Jaskier spend a lot of time here, entertaining the guests, who carried his ballads far and wide. Witcher kept his promise too, visiting us, although he would always insist he was here ‘just for free ale.’
With time, he started coming with Yennefer, who proved to be a great woman. Jaskier and her stopped bickering, and all was well.
We found a balance, so perfect for us, it was unreal. Of course, we had our arguments and fights. But in the end, things always worked out.
And here we were, listening to Jaskier sing a song he wrote for all of us. Yennefer smiling and even singing along, Geralt sipping his drink with a slight curl to his lips, and me, serving up ale to my friends, dancing and prancing to the music of my true love.
The journey wasn’t easy. But the journey led us here, to this very moment. It was worth it all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I want to thank everyone who continued reading this short story. it gave me the courage to keep writing, and i know it took only two days for me to finish it, i am still sooo glad i was able to take this adventure, and to take you all with me.
basically, thank you all for giving me a voice and listening. it means the world. all the kind words I got, i wish you knew how much i needed this encouragement. i will try to do better and grow even more for you all.
thank you from the bottom of my heart
butterflies and kisses,
diamond x
#jaskier#jaskier finale#jaskier x reader#jaskierxreader#roach#geralt of rivia#geralt#witcher#the witcher#yennefer#yennefer of vegerberg#i love them all so much#i loved writing this#dandelion#buttercup#basically everything sweet and nice#and pure talent#thats jask
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The life of Elara Ware - chapter 3
So, funny story. I accidentally shut myself out of this account when I forgot my damn password. Then there was this pandemic and being technically a key worker, that was stress. Then I just started writing other stuff. So yeah, I kinda left this behind, which was a shame because I had a lot planned for it. But anyway here's chapter 3 as I wrote it ages ago and who knows, maybe I'll keep going. FYI I could not be bothered to go back and check it so theres almost definitely a spelling mistake or some grammatical errors. Sorry about it.
The next few days at The Burrow passed far too quickly for Elaras liking. It could be hectic at times with so many of them in one house. A fact Mrs Weasley continuously apologised for. But Elara, so used to being alone, loved the business of life at the Weasleys. She had missed George more than she thought she could. They relished in the time they spent together and, when they were sure no one was around to see, stole as many kisses as they could. With so many of them in the house though the later was practically impossible and more than once their embrace had been broken up my someone walking suddenly into the room. Ron couldn't look Elara in the eye for days after he walked in to find a particularly passionate scene. In fairness it was actually his room.
The fullness of the house had at least meant that they could stage 4 a side quidditch matches in the garden with the Weasleys and Harry. Hermione preferred to watch. When they weren't doing that Elara found she enjoyed chatting with Ginny, who to Elaras great surprise was not as girly or shy as she thought she was. Or talking with the eldest 2 Weasley boys; neither of whom she'd met before and had a number of interesting tales about the twins growing up. Then there was Harry, Ron and Hermione. They were a bit of an unlikely trio and Elara was convinced Ron fancied Hermione, but nether the less they were obviously good friends and Elara enjoyed spending time with them. Especially Harry. She'd always really liked Harry Potter, he didn't want the pitty the world gave him, he just wanted a normal life. Elara found she really respected that. The only person in the house Elara found she clashed with was Percy. Though she got the impression that it wasn't just her he had that affect on. For lack of a better word, Percy was a bit of a snob. Thankfully she rarely saw him as he spent most days at work and often chose to stay late most nights.
It was the last day of the holidays and they were all sat in the living room except for Mr Weasley who still wasn't back from work. Elara had parked herself on the furthest seat from her boyfriend and his twin. There was 2 reasons for this. First it meant she didnt have to resist the temptation of his soft lips whilst everyone was here to see. Secondly it made it far easier to feign ignorance to what the pair were currently doing. As they sat huddled together, talking in hushed whispers. She wasnt entirely sure what they were up to but it was almost certainly to do with Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, something Mrs Weasley highly disapproved of. As she sat alone she found her mind wondering and without meaning to found herself going over the dream she'd had the night before. She couldn't explain why but it had been bothering her all day. It wasn't a scary dream or in anyway disturbing. But Elara found herself shaken up by it none the less. Especially as she was almost certain she'd had that exact dream before.
In the dream Elara was walking through the woods at night. The only respite from the dark provided by the moon as its faint light battled through the thick branche above. She's looking for something but what it is or where she should look remains a mystery. Still she keeps going. Undeterred as the trees and undergrowth becomes denser and more wild. Then all of a sudden she sees a shape moving through the shadows. It slides slowly through the trees towards her until it stops in a clearing ahead. Bathing in the moonlight is a great white fox. Larger than any fox had the right to be and more majestic than any she'd seen. Its pure white coat shining brightly as though lighting up from within. Elara feels a pang of familiarity deep in her heart as she looks into its eyes. She doesn't run or scream. She knows she's safe. The white fox is here to help her, like a mother looking out for her cub. Its gaze is mesmerising and Elara could read the message in its eyes. 'follow me. I'll show you where it is'
"hey! daydreamer! wake up!" Elara was suddenly pulled out of her thoughts to find the whole room staring at her. She shakes herself mentally, uncomfortable by the sudden attention on her.
"sorry" she said trying to laugh it off dismissively "miles away"
"whatcha thin huh in abou?" asked Ron mid yawn. Elara sighed
"that out of all Georges siblings I like you the least" she said dryly
"really?"
"no" she says with a smile, earning a few laughs. Ron a few seconds behind the others before he got the joke.
Suddenly his face changed
"woah!" he said, staring at Elara in amazement.
"what?" Elara said. she suddenly felt a bit self conscious.
"your eyes are different colours!"
"oh" She giggled breathing a sigh of relief. "you've just noticed? really? how long have I known you?"
Everyone was laughing again
"what. have they always been like that?"
"yes!" everyone else said in chorus.
"Since I was a baby Ron. what did you think I did it deliberately? I got bored one day and coloured one in with a sharpie?"
Ron made a face somewhere between confusion and embarrassment.
"what's a sharpie?" Ah, Elara thought. muggle reference, complete miss.
" Well we all know ickle Ronnie kins is a complete idiot at the best of times. "Said George as he crossed the room and squeezed on the armchair next to Elara before pulling her onto his lap.
"what is a sharpie?" he added to her at a whisper. Elara smiled and shook her head dismissively. The rest of the room going back to their individual conversations.
"muggle stuff" she answered
"Ah. well then whatever you do, dont mention it in front of dad. he'll get all excited and interrogate you again." George said as he started rubbing small circles onto her hip with his thumb. Elara couldn't help but smile at the gesture.
"oh stop it hes not that bad. " She said rolling her eyes.
"yes he is, remember when you mentioned the cinema?" Elara laughed. She did remember that. It had taken her the best part of an hour to explain the concept to Mr Weasley.
"Anyway. Don't be so mean to your brother, as I recall it took you months to bloody notice." George looked blank for a moment.
"notice what?" he asked
"my eyes!"
"oh" he remarked, realisation dawning.
"it wasnt months was it? maybe a few weeks" Elara was giggling now, enjoying the slight embarrassment creeping into George's cheeks.
"nope definitely months. it was around Christmas time. remember? you thought I'd done it with magic to be all christmassy. Though how that's a christmassy thing to do I dont know."
"oh. yeah. well... that's only cause I'm not a weird person who stares at pretty girls eyes" George said, mockingly batting his eyelids at her. Elara grinned fondly at him, then leaned forward and left a light peck on his lips.
"Yeah you are."
"a couple of months is good for him" Fred said " George didn't realise we were identical until we were 7" Elara started slightly having not realised Fred had come over. He was sat on the floor next Charlie looking amused.
"in fairness that's not so obvious as I have always been way better looking than you." George retorted quickly.
Both twins sniggered and Elara noted that even their laughter was the same.
"did we mention he's delusional? sure you want him El?" Fred said
"Oh someone sounds jealous to me. Don't worry Fred I'm sure we can find a girl to take pity and go out with you"
Elara could tell this verbal tennis wasn't going to stop anytime soon.
" *cough* testosterone *cough* "
"oh look your fathers coming" Mrs Weasley suddenly announced getting everyones attention. Sure enough the hand on the grand father clock which bore mr Weasleys likeness had moved and now pointed at travelling. Then it moved once more settleing with the other hands on home. At the same time the door opened and Mr Weasleys voice could be heard from the kitchen. Mrs Weasley scuttled out to greet him. With the others distracted by this Elara inexplicably found her mind once again wondering back to her dream and the White Fox. Its magnetic familiar eyes drawing her in.
"you okay?" George said quietly. Wrapping his arms around Elara protectively and pulling her back to the present.
"yeah of course" She said trying to sound as casual as possible. George wasnt convinced. He knew her far too well and having shared it with him that morning knew what she was thinking about.
"It was just a dream you know El. I know it was a bit freaky. But it cant hurt you" he said, squeezing her arm reassuringly. That's just the thing, she thought, it wasn't scary to me. But she smiled at him appreciatively.
"I know"
#fanfic#george weasley#georgeweasleysgf#gryffindor#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#the weasleys#fred weasley#mr weasley#mrs weasley#weasley wizard wheezes#ron weasley#hermione granger#elara ware#hogwarts#amateurhour
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You’ll be the deaf of me
You’ll be the deaf of me, a Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia One Shot.
Summary: “You’re going deaf, aren’t you, Bakugou?” Kirishima said very faintly, noticing how the blond had his eyes on his lips. He frowned slightly.
He wasn’t denying it. And not denying it meant it was probably true. In Bakugou speech.
Pairings: Bakugou/Kirishima.
Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou.
Rating: Teen and up
Read on AO3
Or read below the cut
The first thing that Kirishima noticed was that Bakugou always went to the teacher’s room after classes. He wasn’t spying on his best friend. Of course not, he was just looking out for him and making sure everything was fine.
But now Eijirou was curious. What could his best friend be asking his teachers every day? Was it about extra material? Until Kirishima noticed Bakugou didn’t take notes in class. So maybe, instead of extra material, maybe he asked the teachers for what the lessons had been that day?
But then, why would the teachers comply?
Something smelt fishy, really fishy.
Kirishima didn’t think he was the smartest in class, no, far from it, but when he realised that he could do something for Bakugou if he understood what was going on, he decided to use all his brain power to figure it out.
And then, he started noticing small things about Katsuki. Like the way his eyes would always immediately drop to someone’s lips whenever that person started talking.
So, it finally dawned on Eijirou. And it made sense.
“So?” Bakugou asked, unimpressed. He’d seated himself on the redhead’s bed, crossing his legs patiently.
“You’re going deaf, aren’t you, Bakugou?” Kirishima said very faintly, noticing how the blond had his eyes on his lips. He frowned slightly.
“Huh? What did you say, Shitty Hair?”
And then something else clicked inside Eijirou’s brain. The nicknames.
“It’s your explosions, isn’t it?” Now the volume was normal, perhaps slightly elevated, to help his friend out.
“What about my explosions?”
“They’re making you lose your hearing.” Kirishima spoke. He was nervous, hoping in the very pit of his soul that he was wrong.
Bakugou was silent. The frowning persisted, and his lips just pursed some more, but he said nothing.
“You don’t take notes in class. You visit the teacher’s room when classes are over. You don’t call people by their name, you always have a nickname for them, like you didn’t catch their name and didn’t want to damage your pride by putting yourself in a situation where people could figure out what was wrong. Plus your quirk is hella loud, dude.”
“The left one is worse.” He just mumbled. He avoided the redhead’s gaze and squirmed in his seat.
He wasn’t denying it. And not denying it meant it was probably true. In Bakugou speech.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kirishima asked, trying to hide the pain in his voice. Why couldn’t his friend count on him? He could take notes for him, help him out. Be extra loud and subtly encourage everyone around him to be it too so that Katsuki could have an easier life. But no, the sulky blond had to be extra prideful and just reject everything, especially help coming from his friend.
“Why didn’t I tell you!?” Bakugou snapped, his explosions erupting from his palms, but Eijirou wasn’t fazed. “Why would I tell you?”
“Because we’re friends! Because I can help!” Kirishima threw his head back, letting the wave of frustration roll over him.
“You can’t help!”
“Yes, I can!”
“No, you cannot fucking help! What are you going to do about it!? You don’t even know! The fucking nightmares made it worse! I exploded my hands against my ear for fuck’s sake! It’s not like my hearing was any good anyway after years and years of loud fucking explosions!”
Bakugou had said so much. Explosions. Nightmares. Exploding in his sleep.
“I could… tie your hands down or something!” Kirishima tried to come up with something.
“No, you cannot fucking tie me down.”
Eijirou had an idea why, an inkling of what it could be. But he needed Bakugou to voice his fears.
Katsuki didn’t seem like he was going to, though.
The blond sighed, looking almost defeated.
“I started losing my hearing a few years ago because of how much I use my quirk. And then I started getting nightmares and I accidentally let them off in my dreams, trying to fend off imaginary shit and one time I had my hand next to my left ear. It rang for days and after that it’s never been the same.”
“Are the nightmares… because you got kidnapped?” Kirishima’s brow wrinkled, pity and sympathy in his eyes as he watched his friend closely.
A flash of anger crossed the other’s face, and the redhead knew better than to keep looking at him like that.
“I’m learning how to lip read. It’s a pain in the arse but I have to deal with it.” Bakugou spoke again eventually, his brow still furrowed. “You happy now, Shitty Hair?”
The next day, when Katsuki was about to get ready for school, he found someone had left a piece of paper on the floor. When he picked it up and looked over it, he realised Kirishima must have slid it under the door, either the night before or sometime that morning.
Sign language classes.
And, in Eijirou’s bad handwriting, a note that said: “Come with me! :D”
Bakugou scrunched the paper into a ball in his fist, his brow furrowing.
The redhead was especially loud that day. Bakugou had an idea why, and it was irking him like nothing else that boy had ever done before.
Strangely enough, Kirishima’s plan seemed to be working. When he was louder, the people around him were unconsciously louder as well. So he smiled at Katsuki, hoping he would share his enthusiasm with him.
He was met with a grimace.
Eijirou’s smile almost faltered.
That afternoon Kirishima stormed into Bakugou’s room like always, but he was carrying a red folder the blond hadn’t seen previously.
“I took notes for you in class!” The redhead chirped happily, opening it up and showing his best friend all of his hard work. “I tried to make it as clean and organized as I could, and did my best with my sloppy handwriting.”
Katsuki went over the notes, his face displaying his annoyance.
“They’re riddled with spelling mistakes, idiot.” He mumbled lightly, going over a specifically hard to read paragraph.
“Oh… I tried my best…” Kirishima’s smile wavered and he looked dejected. Bakugou almost felt guilty at his words.
“Well, they’ll help you study.” The blond muttered, turning his head away in embarrassment. “So keep doing them or whatever.”
A week later the redheaded ball of energy barged into Bakugou’s room, rambling on about something that the blond didn’t quite catch.
“Look Bakugou!” Kirishima smiled at him, waving his hands in the air excitedly. “I watched some videos online and I can sign a bit, wanna see?”
“Not particularly.” Came Katsuki’s answer, even if he was a teeny bit curious. Just a little bit. This didn’t deter his friend however, who immediately started to sign, his lips mouthing the words as his fingers and hands did the speaking for him.
“I said I can hear! But I can teach you how to express that you’re hard of hearing!”
Bakugou huffed in mock annoyance. It was getting hard to find all the things the blundering idiot was doing as irritating as they had before. Now, it was mostly… cute.
He scoffed at the idea that whatever the redhead was doing could ever be classified as cute in his mind, but he was eagerly yapping on about how waving his hands this way meant something, and waving them around like that meant something else, his eyes shining eagerly, a happy puppy look to them that was nearly endearing.
“We can go to the classes together! It seems like sooo much fun! I’ve always wanted to learn more ways of expressing myself! And if your hearing gets any worse I could interpret for you! Wouldn’t that be fun?” Kirishima was nearly shouting, his hands returning to his sides as they’d finished with their conversation.
Bakugou didn’t miss that Eijirou had said ‘if his hearing got worse’ and not ‘when’. Maybe it’d been to spare his feelings but Katsuki did appreciate it.
“Alright.” He muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “We can go to the classes.”
Kirishima threw himself on top of the other, crushing him into a hug the blond nearly responded to. He swore he heard the redhead say something along the lines of ‘I knew you’d come round to it!’.
They were outside the room and Bakugou was hesitant about entering. Going inside meant he would be accepting the fact that he was going deaf, and that was something he was having trouble coming to terms with.
But Kirishima was smiling at him by his side, eagerness emanating off of him, almost jumping up and down on the spot. He would be going with him, despite the fact that his hearing was mostly unaffected.
And, as Eijirou offered him his hand for moral support, Katsuki decided that if his friend could take the plunge, so could he. Grabbing the palm laid out for him, he entered the class, adamant on proving the world that there was no stopping him.
#Kiribaku#bakushima#boku no hero academia#fanfiction#bakugou#kirishima#boku no hero academia fanfiction#youll be the deaf of me#bnha#bnha fanfiction#bakugou katsuki#bakugo#bakugo katsuki#kirishima eijirou#hard of hearing bakugou#bakugou is going deaf#deaf#you'll be the deaf of me#sign language#my writing
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