#i don’t know if the read more will work but uh i’ll fix it tomorrow

[chaotic-mystery]

Pairing: dbf! Joel miller x f!reader

Summary: You and Joel go to your dads annual BBQ after that shitfest at White Pony. You felt something that night in your living room with him that you are unsure to pursue. He slowly starts to realize why you have such a rocky relationship with your dad as you spend more time together, but does he defend you or sit there and let you take it when they start grilling you and embarrassing you in front of him?

Content Warnings: daddy issues out the ASS, eventual smut so 18+ only MDNI! Family issues, swearing, lovers to enemies, dbf!joel, trauma/childhood trauma, drinking, smoking, arguing, verbally abusive parent, age gap but unspecified, no outbreak! Joel, meanish Joel!

Word Count: 4.9K

Your eyes open slowly to the curtains blowing in the morning wind, the nippy air sending goosebumps up your exposed arm. As your phone buzzes on the nightstand, you wipe the sleep from your eyes. A few messages from Joel decorated the lockscreen, some from a couple hours ago and some from just a few moments ago.

“Do you wanna ride with me to your dads later? I can fix your car later this weekend if you want.” 2 hrs ago

“You plan on wakin up anytime soon?” 1 hr ago

“Stop snorin so loud I can hear you in the garage!” 20 mins ago

You giggle softly and swipe away the message, sitting up to look out the window when your eyes find Joel outside in his front yard putting out new landscaping lights by the porch steps.

“I don’t snore that loud, asshole!” You flip him the bird as soon as he shields the sun from his eyes to look at you in the window.

“Like hell you don’t! Come down’ere and help me would ya?” He hollers back and nods down at the lights that haven’t been put in the ground yet.

You think about it for a second before you pull the screen back down on the window and throw on something more appropriate than your big t-shirt and panties combo. Cascading down the stairs outside to his front yard, he tries not to watch you walk up to him but he just can’t help himself. The way your bed head is still so noticeable he can’t help but chuckle to himself.

You cross your arms when you stop right in front of him, casting a shadow onto his direction manual from the box.

“Would ya mind steppin’ a little to the left please, darlin’?” Something about the way he calls you darlin’ makes your heart flutter a tad and the heat rises in your cheeks.

You sit on your knees next to him and start to put the lights together while Joel takes another look at you, watching your hands twist and turn to get the post in the correct way.

“So uh, not too sure if you read my messages, lord knows it took me forever to type them. So whaddya say? Carpool with me and I’ll fix your car tomorrow, how’s that sound?” He sounded nervous asking even though he had no reason to be. It was just carpooling.

“Uhh yeah, w-we can carpool to my dad’s together. Just remember- don’t tell him about White Pony, okay?” You glance at him and give a small smile and hand over the light so he can put it in the dirt.

“I know, I know. It’ll be okay. I’ve got shit in the house Sarah made to bring over before she left for her friends house so we’re squared away with that.” He grunts as he pushes another light into the dirt.

“Do you think we can go into town? I need somethin’ to wear and since my car doesn’t work…” Your eyes look up at his and his eyebrows drop, staring at you with a deadpan face.

“All those goddamn clothes in your closet and there’s nothing in there you can wear?” With a smile growing on your face and a laugh erupting from your lungs, Joel groans in frustration.

“No, Joel there’s nothing in there cute enough to wear! Cmon I’ll even give you gas money! Please?” You beg and plead, grabbing onto his arm and throwing yourself back and forth dramatically.

“It’s a fuckin’ family barbeque, who the hell are you dressin’ to impress at a family event?” Joel raises an eyebrow in your direction, glancing down at his arm that’s in your hands. You two just stare at each other and without blinking you give him an honest answer.

“You aren’t family.” A small grin appearing on your lips, Joel chuckling dryly.

“Didn’t answer my question, little girl.” A small tickle inside you starts forming and suddenly your hands get clammy.

“Myself, of course.” Was all you managed to get out before getting yourself to your feet and brushing your ass free of any dirt you may have sat in. Little girl. It kept replaying in your mind and egging on that tickling feeling. There was no denying everything felt different ever since the other night when he beat up those assholes. Michelle hasn’t been around much but you knew he still was with her considering the loud phone calls you could overhear through the open windows late at night.

Joel shook his head and grumbled as he stood up, his hands rubbing over his knees gently. “Well let’s go then, don’t got all damn day.” He starts walking to his truck and you run over to your place to grab your purse and keys, spraying some perfume on you before you close and lock the front door, Joel already backing out of his driveway slowly.

He stops just at the tail end and lets you climb inside on the seat, bouncing around to sit up straight and get your seatbelt on. “Try that little thrift store on fifth avenue, I heard it was good but I haven’t been there.” You adjust your jacket as he starts to take off down the road, pulling down the center console to lay on the middle seat for an arm rest. Joel nods and heads that way into town.

Since you left all those years ago to follow your mom, you didn’t realize the town had changed so much until you came back. The empty building where your favorite little grocery shop used to be was the first thing that caught your eye. Your dad would take you there all the time and get stuff for breakfast on Sundays. Waffles with whipped cream and apple pie filling on the top. The cashier would give you a sticker with a smiley face on it and your dad would hate it because you’d stick them everywhere in his truck. “Wait- slow down, Joel.” You sit up in the truck, grabbing onto the handle above your head and you look closely at the shell of the place you had some great memories from.

“What happened to the grocery store?” Joel glances out your window and looks at you like you’re joking.

“It burnt down all those years ago, remember? Thought you heard about it, I’m surprised your father didn’t tell ya.” You could feel the tears pricking your eyes and you blinked slowly, taking in the memories flooding back to you. It was a stupid fucking grocery store, that’s all it ever was. You couldn’t figure out why it was making you so fucking sad. Maybe because there was no way of ever going there one more time with your dad, him chasing you down the small isles with the cart trying to hit your feet and your giggles filling the shelves with life. You knew you were never going to be that little girl ever again.

Joel notices how quiet you’ve gotten and he dips his head down to see what you’re feeling, what you’re thinking.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His soft voice brings you back to the present time, snapping you out of the sappy memory lane you put yourself in.

“Hm? Yeah I’m fine. You don’t have to go in with me if you don’t wanna, I won’t be long.” You give Joel a fake smile but he can see right through it. Joel parks in front of the thrift store and turns off his truck, unclicking his seat belt.

“I’ve got nothin’ else better to do anyway. Let’s go.”

He’s out of the truck and walking to the door before you even have your seatbelt off and you chuckle softly, making your way next to him. Joel opens the front door for you and you’re hit with that smell of old clothes and an air freshener plugged in somewhere to mask the old smell. A woman greets you and you start running your hands all over the clothing racks, Joel following closely behind.

They had just a little bit of everything, most of it was old lady clothes. Joel never wandered away from you though, not even to go look at the mens clothing.

As you fished through the third rack of clothes, your eyes find a dress that you immediately want to try on. It was pink and had little white flowers all over it, knee length. With some quick alterations you could probably save it and make it look somewhat decent.

“I’ll be right back, gonna go try this on.” You mutter to Joel and disappear behind a curtained dressing room. Joel kept looking all over the room, scanning clothing racks that were piled full of shit no one wanted anymore.

He walked over to sit down in the chairs they had out for customers and tired husbands who were groaning about being there, and in your case: your dads best friend. You tugged the dress over your hips and stared at yourself in the mirror for what felt like ages. Nothing was looking good on you. A pile of stuff you previously tried on was becoming bigger on the floor but never once did you hear Joel complain. “Joel nothing is working out. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to waste your time.” You called out from behind the thin curtain and you groaned in frustration.

“Let me take a look, see if I can find ya somethin.’”

Joel’s callused hands start to flip through the hangers like a book with thousands of pages, not stopping until he found exactly what he was looking for. He was making it his mission to at least make your day a little better, even if it was a dress that you’d wear once and forget about it in the back of your closet.

As Joel moved onto the last rack along the wall, he spotted a dress hanging lower than everything else around it and he parted the clothes around it, observing the material. A floral cami mini dress with a small slit on the side. It wasn’t something Joel would want you to wear by any means but it wasn’t for him. He knew you’d like it, the way the lace lays over the satin material, just the right length for you. God was he aware you loved short dresses and skirts.

You watched the tall shadow get darker as he got closer to the curtain and suddenly there was fabric being held over the top of the dressing room rod holding up the only thing separating your half naked body and Joel.

“Try this, let me know whatcha think?” He grumbles and lets go of the hanger when he feels your hands and he steps back, clearing his throat before sitting down once more. Joel taps his fingers on his knee a few times as he glances around the place to take in everything on the walls.

You zip up the back and smooth down the fabric, loving the way it hugs you just right. Of course he picked one out with a slit on the side, why wouldn’t he. With your hair tucked behind your ears, you push open the curtains and step out to where Joel can see you and tell you how fucking amazing you look.

“So uh..how do I look?”

His head snaps up in your direction and you can see him freeze in his seat. His hand rubs over his scruffy beard in complete awe of what’s before him.

“Doesn’t matter what I think. You like it? Make ya feel pretty?” Joel watches you closely when you turn to look at yourself in the floor length mirror. The smile on your face is infectioness, he can feel one growing on his lips.

“Yeah, I like it.” Your eyes lock with him in the reflection and for a second everything goes silent. You suddenly can’t hear the music on the speakers above you, you can’t hear the hangers being scooted back and forth, gazed at over and over.

For a moment in this weird situation, Joel didn’t feel like someone you shouldn’t be longing after. He felt like someone you wanted to impress, to seek his approval from.

“Darlin’ c’mon we gotta get movin’ before we’re late.” His voice makes you aware of everything and you’re yanked out of your own world once more.

The curtain is drawn before you can slip out of the dress and into your clothes, trying to be as quick as possible so you can hurry home and get prepared for the circus about to happen tonight.

-

It was getting closer and closer to 5 o’clock when Joel said he’d be ready and for the first time in your life you were ready on time. With your hair all done and the dress on, you felt some butterflies in your stomach waiting for Joel to see you. A honk from outside signaled you to come on out, and you made your way down to his truck. Joel was thankful his windows were up so you couldn’t hear everything he muttered on your walk to him.

“Well c’mon know we don’t have all damn night, watch the potato salad with that thing!” He hollered as you tried to toss your purse on the seat and barely missed the container with foil over the top.

You poke your tongue out at him and buckle yourself in, turning on his radio to something more your style. Joel just shakes his head at you and starts driving to your dads house. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting against the side of your headrest, he looks over at you a couple of times and wonders if he should even ask this or not.

“So is there anything I should watch out for tonight at this thing? First one you’ve been to in years and I dunno what a lil firecracker like you is gonna say.”

Flashing Joel a devilish grin, you light a cigarette and hold it between your index and middle finger just outside the window, finding the words to say to ease his mind.

“Well, I could pick a fight with almost everyone there if I get enough tequila in my sy-”

“Absolutely no tequila- uh uh. Not happening.”

You roll your eyes and continue your answer.

“Anywayyy! Or I could sit pretty and let everyone rip me to shreds and hear from my dad about how a phone works both ways and I should’ve come to see him more. How I was the coward for leaving when I got into an argument with Janet and my dad followed me to the porch, he grabbed me and shook me around calling me a bitch while telling me not to talk to her that way. Ironic, isn’t it?”

Joel’s brows furrow and he glances at you a few more times before gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“T-that actually happened?” He sounds surprised as if he was never told about this. Crazy to think that considering your dad likes to tell everyone why you left.

“Mhm. I was sixteen when he did that. He came close to hitting me but he didn’t. I was scared of him back then, back when I didn’t have a voice. I never argued with him or raised my voice, contrary to what he says.” You take a drag of your cigarette and decide to keep going.

“That was the day I decided I couldn’t do this anymore. I stopped going to his house every other weekend, I stopped calling and texting him, I did that for a year. He swore my mom brainwashed me but it was never about her. He just didn’t want me to see the monster he truly fucking is. Anyway, there’s more horror stories I could share but honestly? I’ve forgotten a lot because of how fucked up it was. He always chose his girlfriends over my siblings and I thought that was never going to change and it still hasn’t. I’m just full of so much anger now, I think. I wanna watch him crumble to fucking pieces.”

You told him a couple more stories, only the ones you knew he could handle. It was clear Joel knew none of this, your dad painted you as the bad guy and he loved doing that. By the time you were done, your cigarette was finished and you were pulling into your dads street. Joel’s knuckles were white from gripping the wheel so hard.

“He did that to ya? What a fuckin’ asshole. Darlin’ I’m so sorry- I didn’t know-” He was searching for the right words to say to you, something other than sorry. There wasn’t though, there was nothing he could say to take the sting away from that wound.

The look of shock on your face was all Joel needed and his hand grabbed yours after he put the truck in park. His thumb rubbed your skin softly and he met your eyes.

“I’m sorry he did that. I have your back in there tonight, I promise.”

Your stomach felt the butterflies again and you took a sharp breath in before tripping over your words, “We should go. The faster we go the faster we can leave this shit show.”

You two make your way to the backyard, Joel carrying the potato salad. No one except your dads family showed up and Janet’s sons. Joel’s greeted with open arms and hellos, while you’re met with stares and scoffs about your outfit. Oh how things never change even with company present, you think to yourself.

“Well hello everyone, Dad.”

He stops patting Joel’s back and looks at you, not a word coming from his mouth for a moment.

“Well hi, sweetheart. How are you?” He didn’t really care, he just wanted to know if you were staying out of trouble.

“Fine, how are you?” He looks at Joel and Joel nods awkwardly.

“I’m fine honey. Say hi to Janet.”

“Not a chance in hell.” You laugh and light another cigarette, pouring yourself a whiskey. Joel never said anything against having whiskey.

Joel set down the potato salad on the glass patio table and grabbed a beer from the cooler as he watched you sip your drink, the gears in your mind turning while you thought about how you wanted this night to go.

Everyone sat down after making up their plates, Joel at one end of the table and your dad on the other end. You sat next to Joel, feeling a sense of comfort and safeness from him.

Janet cleared her throat as she poured more wine in her glass, a spiteful look shooting at you.

“So I heard you have a job now? What is it exactly?” Even her tone was like nails on a fucking chalkboard.

You take a bite of potato salad and brush your hair behind your shoulder. “I’m a waitress at a bar.”

She laughs sarcastically and takes a sip of her drink. Her claws are in you now and there is nowhere to go. Your dad just shovels food into his mouth and lets her start her shit with you, clearly not seeing her game.

“You mean the bar from the other night some guys got beat up at for no reason?” She squints at you and smirks. You can feel your face get hot with anger and Joel’s hand reaches under the table to rub your knee, calming you down.

Joel takes a drink of his beer and looks at Janet, his hands folding in front of his face as he thought carefully on how he wanted to dive into this topic.

“If i may..they weren’t beat up for no reason. They were grabbin’ on her the whole night and being assholes. I did what I thought was best, she deserved a better tip than what they left her so I tried the calm approach and they escalated it.” Joel’s stare was tight on Janet, who was turned to the side fully to give Joel her full attention. The wind started to blow softly against your hot face but something inside you told you this wasn’t even close to not being talked about anymore.

Everyone was silent. Not a scrape of plastic utensils on the paper plates, not a bottle of condiments being squeezed. Just the wind in your ears. As you dropped your head down towards your lap you could feel the flame still burning inside you, Joel still rubbing your knee to sooth you.

“But honey you can’t just chase after customers because they tip badly. Your service reflects your tip. I raised you better than that, now.” It was almost impossible not to visibly react to every word falling from his mouth. He didn’t raise you, he never did even when you were at his house for the weekend. He could sit at the end of the table all he wants and pretend like he had some credit for how you turned out but you knew the truth and that’s all that matters. Your dad was so deep in his lies he fully convinced himself he was a good father to you, to your siblings, and the reason you fucked up so bad and had to move back to Texas was because of how your mom raised you.

“You didn’t raise me.” You mutter quietly under your breath just before you swallow your words with whiskey. Thankfully he didn’t hear you as Janet was talking to him, probably talking about you under her breath.

“Alan, I just told you I was the one who went after them, not her. She was in the bathroom crying and Michelle and I felt bad, so I took care of it. No need to make her feel worse about shit she didn’t have any say in.” His tone was getting more and more agitated the more he was brought back to that moment, seeing the sadness wash over your face and the humiliation you felt having to pick up that three dollar tip. It was unclear though as to why Joel said Michelle felt bad for you too. She didn’t give a second look to you when you ran to the bathroom. Not once did she ask if you were okay, her man did. Joel. did.

Joel’s jaw clenched as took another sip of his beer, a small glance to you from the corner of his eye. He turned to look at you fully and mouthed softly, “ You okay?” A soft smile and nod was all you answered with and that was enough for Joel not to push you further.

Your dad groans at the opposite end of you and fiddles with the napkin on the table, smoothing it over with the fork a dozen times. “You don’t have to stick up for her, Joel. She’s a big girl. Think she’s had enough people clean up her shit for her and she’ll never be responsible if you keep bailing her out. Lord knows I did it too much and her mother certainly didn’t care to raise her right. Hell, she’s got no manners, she doesn’t greet my wife who I’ve been with since that girl next to ya was twelve years old, over some bullshit I can’t even remember. She’s gonna amount to nothin’ if she stays on this path. Insane she still has her job after that stunt.”

There it was. The real him. The real him he’s been hiding from Joel for all these years. This was the exact reason he never talked about you to his friends, you pissed him off so much for who you were and he hated how you could make him show his true colors just by speaking about you.

“Where did I go wrong, dad? Tell me! Tell me where I went wrong in my life for you to hate me!” You shot up out of your chair and threw your glass down, spilling whiskey everywhere and your chair flying back. “You tell me where I went wrong for you to despise me so much to let her sit there next to you and talk about your flesh and blood like that.” By this point the hot tears streaked down your face and Joel’s head was in his hands. “Baby girl..” Joel whispers only enough for you to hear it and he sighs, shaking his head.

Your brothers left the table and all that was left was the four of you, Janet with a smirk plastered on her face. “I haven’t done anything, this is all your mess. Your father has done nothing but take care of your sorry ass while you mooch off him and take his money, you fuckin’ gold digger.” The spitefulness dripping off her words didn’t even faze your dad. He didn’t move an inch. His arm was pushed against the table as he leaned back in his chair, those stupid fucking sunglasses on top of his head like he always wore them.

“He was my dad, you stupid bitch. That was his job, to take care of me.” You choked out and your stomach dropped, heart feeling that familiar hollowness you haven’t felt since you were a teenager.

“Don’t call her a bitch, you know better. Why did you have to do this shit tonight? Huh?!” Your dads voice booms against the trees and through your lungs.

There was no room in your body to hear anymore of this bullshit, so you grabbed the whiskey off the table and Joel’s keys from his belt loop, walking to his truck with mascara running all down your neck. Janet and your dad were shouting but it was muffled and it was probably for the best if you didn’t catch a single word, you wouldn’t survive in jail. You could barely get the passenger side door open before you collapsed over the seat, sobbing your eyes out onto the felt material. Finding all the strength in your body to get in the truck and wait there for Joel, you climbed up like you had wounds all over your body, sobbing and sniffling until you got upright.

Not even five minutes went by before you watched Joel trek across the tall grassy front yard, his jaw still clenched with the wind blowing against him, pushing his shirt against his body. He got inside silently, placed his hand on the back of your seat, and reversed out of the driveway. No one said a word on the way home, no one moved. The radio was playing softly like you had it earlier, now the songs sounding so boring.

Joel pulls into your driveway and shuts the truck off, keys still in the ignition. All that could be heard was the crickets coming out now that the sun was set and the keychain of the soccer ball Sarah got him as a christmas gift you guessed.

You wipe the back of your hand under your nose and sniffle loudly, Joel turning his entire body to you. His hands gently made their way through your hair to the back of your skull, and he lightly pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead. The gentle nature from Joel only made you cry again, this time from just missing that feeling. You missed someone being gentle with you, an older man being gentle with you and caring about you and how you feel.

“Baby…I’m so fuckin’ sorry that happened. No one should talk to their daughter like that and I’m sorry I didn’t see it before. I’m sorry you had to go through that. You did nothing wrong-” You start to sob and drop your head further into his hands. “Look at me, baby. Look at me.” He softly instructs, lifting your head up once more. Your blurry eyes meet his and you can see the pain he’s feeling. The anger.

“You did nothing to deserve that, okay?” He quickly pulls you against his chest as you start to sob again, your tears running off your cheeks and onto his shirt. Joel kissed the top of your head as he smoothed over your hair, just holding you until you felt like you didn’t want to cry anymore. You two stayed like that for a half hour, Joel humming soft songs in your ear as he held you and let you cry on him.

There was nothing Joel could do to fix your dad. Nothing could fix your dad. He was too set in his ways and nothing was ever going to happen. Part of you wanted to know what happened after you left, why you heard all the shouting.

“J-oel what happened after I left? I heard you guys shouting..” You whispered as you sat up slowly, looking at his face with puffy eyes.

A small smile is all he gives, “I’ll tell ya one day, but that’s not right now. Okay sweet girl? You’ve dealt with so much today and I’m so proud of you.” Joel leans in just a little and you close the space between you two, pressing your lips on his softly. He didn’t kiss you back immediately, but once he did, he didn’t want to take his lips away from yours. Not for a second.

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[abilouwrites]

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL

Mat Barzal x fem!oc

Series Masterlist

ONE

I only like the bookstore during the night, when it’s slow and nobody’s around. The lights are flickering and the town suddenly goes quiet in contrast with the bustle of the busy mornings and heavy traffic of the day.

I only work here on the weekends for the closing shifts or the opening ones. Something to make a little more money to fall back on besides my adult corporate job. My parents are proud, more my father than my mother that I’ve begun my climb up the corporate ladder.

I don’t hate my job, far from it. Simply the long hours and bossy bosses that make me pull at my fingers and tug at my hair. Especially with my youth and admitted naivety, those at my job can be wary about me either in the break room or being hesitant to invite me out for drinks.

I’ve been told by my therapist that I rushed my childhood, skipping grades and taking collage classes while also taking highschool classes at the same time. I want to fight her on it, claim that I did have a childhood and had dreams but I know that I’m defending something I never had.

Two parents who were always fighting; hated eachother but swore to stay together because of their vows, “Hey Bella” I smile at the older lady standing at the counter as I tuck behind into the back room and set my purse onto the table and wrapping my apron around my body, “slow day?” I ask as I switch from heels to converse.

“Yeah, it’s the middle of the school season so all the kidlets are probably studying” she sighs out rubbing her tired eyes, “ok, I’m off. Be safe. Please” she reminds me as she pats my shoulder, “I’ll need you to come in a bit earlier tomorrow for the opening shift, we’re getting a new shipment of books for the month”

“Uhh, yeah yeah I can do that, so 5:30 instead of six?” I clarify, as I clock myself in on the timetable next to the register.

“Yes, thank you Emma. You’re a doll” She smiles and blows me a kiss exiting the building as the cold wind brushes against her; gently pulling at the greying blonde hair that’s always been tucked into a a little bun.

I turn on some music to keep my mind from straying as I walk around the store. Gently brushing my fingers against the creased spines and occasional leather covered book. Those nice collectors editions are always Romeo and Juliet, or Hamlet.

Personally I’ve thought Romeo and Juliet a bit childish and immature, but I’ve always been told I’m looking at it from a modern perspective. I believe that Romeo and Juliet is the way to not fall in love.

But then again, that’s coming from the girl who watched her parents try and fix an already broken marriage by having an abundance of kids and forcing themselves to stay together even though, everyone’s known they’d be better apart. Even their own kids.

I tidy up the reading corner, setting the old book. Princess and the pea back onto the shelf and searching for the one tomorrow.

My my fingers pull and push against the covers of the kids books, looking for something different. I don’t pay attention when the bell jingles and jangles while I hear a heavy step quickly become softer. I hear them physically relax as they walk the isles.

I eventually decide on a book with a unicorn and a blonde girl. Something I fondly remember of my own childhood.

I stretch up a little and let my hair down from its clip, it falls unevenly against my shoulders but I don’t mind or even care that much. This bookstore is my happy place; where I am safe and content within my own body. Here I will never care what I look like.

I view the man searching in the fiction section, something specific I can tell by his body language. If he needs help I’ll allow him to ask; yet I’m wary of going up to a man and guiding him to the book.

When he finally notices me watching him he turns around and asks, “do you know where I can find ‘The road’ it’s uh. Geez by I think by Cormac McCarthy?” He stumbles out; slowly dragging a hand across his face and brushing his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes.

His face is soft but sharp; his eyes evoke a warm bubbly feeling inside me. Eyes that make me feel comfortable being alone with him, “yes, I believe we only have a few left” I tell him, walking off to a different section of the store, “I know, our shop is set up weird” I explain.

“And why’s that?” He inquires, his pace isnt rushed or faster than mine. But relaxed and nonchalant. As if he has all the time in the world.

“The original owners, she has a special section called ‘Meine Leibe’ which I think translates to ‘My loves’ or ‘my life’ once she passed her daughter kept it the same so this little section would always be here for her. I find it endearing” I know I ramble on a bit but I’ve suddenly grown afraid of having a silence against the two of us

“It is, it’s just a little place with all her favorite books?” He keeps asking, as I turn into the cozy little corner. I thumb through the alphabetical order.

“Yeah, her favorite chair, pillows. Shannon was such a kind lady” I reminisce, “here is The Road, is there anything else I can help you with? Or will that be all for today?”

“Uhh, ha unless you have ‘The deal’ by Elle Kennedy then I’ll take that too” I think he’s being sarcastic but I can’t really tell.

“I think we do, are you a hockey fan?” I ask walking to the romance section.

“I guess you could say that, do you watch?” He asks, “do you need a hand?”

“I watch a bit, just the New Jersey Devils with my dad. Yeah it’s just above there” I point, even on my tip toes the store has ceiling high bookshelves. And because it’s night the ladders been locked up. I move to the side as he grabs the book.

“Are you from Jersey?”

“Yeah, I lived there before I came to New York for a work deal”

“I’m going to assume it’s not this job.. right?” As he makes his way to the register and I slink behind the counter

“Yeah, my uh big girl job as my mom likes to address it as” I hear the roll in my eyes as I scan the bar codes and ring him up, “will that be with cash or card?”

“Card” He pulls his wallet out of the front pocket of his jacket, “thank you”, he checks for my name eyes staring just above but also at my chest.

I poke my eyebrows up at him praying to god this man isn’t looking at my tits directly; not even with the slightest bit of discretion.

“I’m uh looking for your name to thank you— I swear I’m not looking at your uh. You know boobs” he almost whispers out the last bit before continuing, “not that they aren’t nice or anything but uh” the tips of his ears turn pink and his cheeks suddenly become flushed, “I will just pay now” he groans out softly; handing me his card and rubbing his eyes with his hands.

I ring him up and he puts his pin in, “thank you again, you never told me your name” he questions for that piece of information

“Emma”

“Thank you Emma, have a good evening” he purses his lips and grabs his books. Hands shaking as he smiles and starts to leave.

“You too, wait” I lean over the bar slightly, “you never told me your name?”

“Mat”

“Alright then, have a good evening Mat. Come back soon”

The door jingles as he leaves and I watch him through the window, I see him sigh and smack his books against his head. Though I don’t exactly hear what he says; noises muffled through the glass and the music.

“Huh. What a strange guy”

#hockey #nhl #mat barzal my beloved #mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mathew barzal #mat barzal smut #mat barzal x oc #new york #new york islanders #New York hockey #New York islanders hockey #islander hockey #mb13 #mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #louiseabilenewrites

[rosewaterandivy]

fightin' to get better

modern!eddie x f!reader

summary: eddie does his damndest to get us out of the study to take a frickin' break.

a/n: My blog is 18 +, minors DNI; purely self-indulgent smut and prosaic idolatry here, my usual brand of filth.

🎶 ooh, let you slide up your hand, uh oh, let go all of my plans 🎶

Grad school could suck a dick. A whole bag of ‘em as far as you were concerned. The entirety of your summer had been taken up by this final class— a subject you loved, but far too much reading and work assigned for the condensed semester.

Eddie thought so too.

The man was quick to chime in when you’d had a glass of wine or two and finally extricated yourself from the front room you’d claimed as an office. Couldn’t understand how you would be complaining one minute and then the second he adds his two cents, you’re defending the professor in question.

But then again, you’d always been tender-hearted.

Which more than explained your penchant for collecting strays, present company excluded, naturally.

“That’s it,” he says, fingers working to peel the damp label from the beer bottle. “First thing tomorrow, I’m gettin’ on the horn with this so-called professor.”

“Eddieeee,” you whine, lips falling into a pout. “Don’t do that.”

He leans into it really playing it up, an eye roll and scoff combo, head inclining to rest on your shoulder as he falls on you dramatically.

“Can’t have my best girl pulling all-nighters every other week.”

His voice was softer, not laced with his typical jocular tone. The bright images of the screen dance across your faces in the cool room. Eddie settles against you, warm breath fanning across your chest and neck.

He can see the subtle dark hues beneath your eyes, hates the evidence of your sleepless nights spent in front of the computer, nose buried in a book.

“I know,” you rasp after a beat or two. “I’ll get better baby, I promise. S’just a few more weeks and then I’m army-crawling to the finish line.”

He cracks a smile, unable to hide his elation at your accomplishment— at you.

Eddie Munson and his genius girlfriend, who would’ve thought?

—

So it really shouldn’t be a surprise a week or two later when Eddie wanders into the study to find you up at all hours of the night. Again.

“Babe—”

“Jesus Christ!” You jolt in your chair, startled by the sound, and slowly swivel toward him. A deep breath once you realize who it is, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room.

And, sure enough, your boyfriend is standing there wiping the sleep from his eyes, sporting his Suspiria sweats and looking entirely displeased.

“God Eds, make a noise! You’re like Ruth Gordon just standing there with a tannis root.”

He crosses his arms with a sign, ignoring your barb. Ruth Gordon, with her blue eye shadow and head scarf? Puh-leeze.

“You said you’d be ten minutes.”

You shudder at the timbre of his voice— raspy and low, hitting the sweet spot that sends heat rushing to your core.

“Shit, I’m sorry, babe.”

Glasses discarded and hair askew, you sigh catching the time and start to pack it in for the night.

Eddie is surprisingly quick for someone snatched from sleep and dreaming, he turns your chair away from the desk and fixes you with a look.

The penetrating kind, where he squints and tilts his head like he just can’t figure you out. And yeah, he’s never really understood academia or why the books you’ve had to buy are always so damn expensive. But he does his best to support you, reminds you to eat and sleep more than he’d like because you have the tendency of getting too caught up and distracted.

His gaze softens, “C’mere pretty girl.”

Eddie picks you up and throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, despite your protests. Smacks your ass for good measure.

“M’gonna fall!”

“No, you aren’t,” he tuts, “Such a drama queen.”

He barrels through the dark house only to deposit you in the dimly lit bathroom. A shaft of light eeks in from a partially opened closet door, candles flickering on countertops catching their reflections in the mirror.

Right side up again, you pause and take a look around. The bathtub is filling up, bubbles growing in soft peaks of foam, and a bath bomb fizzles away, painting the water in candy-colored hues.

There’s a glass of wine and another of ice water, sweating against the ledge of the tub. An iPad propped up in the corner, your favorite show cued up and ready to go.

“Baby,” you say, turning back to him, voice barely above a whisper. “What is all this?”

He takes a step toward you, the slightest inclination of his chin prompting your hands to rise above your head. Eddie’s nimble fingers find the hem of your shirt and tug it upwards, soft fabric brushing against your skin only to be kissed with damp heat.

“Jus’ wanna take care of you,” he says simply, quietly. As if he’d rather do nothing else.

“Oh.”

His fingers alight on the waist of your shorts, thumbs hooking in and pulling down.

“Hmm.” He says, kneeling in front of you, brow quirked and eyes seeking yours. “Feelin’ lucky today or—"

The heat rises in your chest and neck, hands flying to cover your face while he lazily peruses your bare form.

Not so much luck as it was sheer exhaustion that informed your sartorial choices and distinct lack of underwear today, but you’ll take what you can get.

His breath ghosts along your thighs, muscles tightening inadvertently, the coil in your stomach winding taut.

As you step out of the shorts, Eddie turns off the faucet and herds you back against the sink. A brief lift and you're sitting on the countertop, legs splayed, head falling against the cool mirror behind you.

Eddie buries his head between your legs, and smothers praises between your thighs.

Eddie's pretty sentimental with oral— kissing, kissing, kissing— can't stop his lips from meandering, can't stop his mouth from savoring. He noses against your slit, tongue darting out to taste. A low rumble ripped from his chest as the slick muscle works against your petaled heat, savoring the arousal gathered there.

He gets dizzy off it. Selfish for it. It all goes to his head— whimpers and moans falling from your candy-pink mouth, a prolonged whine of his name.

Left, then right, back over again. Drowsy roaming paths, curving and bending, pleased when you arch into his mouth, forever wanting more. Licks you for hours like you’re the last bit of sweetness in the world, savors it long and lazy and delicate.

"Sweetheart," he sighs, pulling away briefly. Lips ruddy and wet with your slick, smiling slow and dangerous, “You’re fucking delicious, baby.”

You moan on his clever tongue and the sloppy sounds he makes. He's always stunning— eager and devoted to the singular task of lapping at you like a starved man.

Two fingers twist inside before he turns them back and shoves them in his own mouth. He repeats this again and again, like pulling a secret from your body that only he’s allowed to enjoy.

“Yes,” he sighs, “Fuck yes. Fuck—mmm—"

It's as if you're on the precipice of a coming storm, pressure building, and rising, too, in your belly, as he works into your body, heavy-lidded and transfixed on your beautiful face. Deeper until you’re shaking, pulling your legs up over his shoulders, getting him closer, closer, closer.

Your toes curl.

"Eddie—"

You shatter like a splinter of lightning. It bursts across your skin—a bright, brief halo—before it’s gone, chased by the explosion of swollen clouds. He muffles a loud fuck! into the meat of your ass, while his fingers continue to corkscrew inside of you.

He's wet down to his wrist, coaxing vestiges of arousal from you, and rises to kiss your open, panting mouth, your exposed throat. Eddie's lips turned wicked and desperate when he asks, "Think you can gimme another one?"

Nodding dumbly, bath and freshly laundered sheets completely forgotten, you watch as he all but yanks you down further, ass now hanging off the countertop. Swings your legs over his shoulders and dives back in, your cunt now positively flooded due to his velvet tongue.

On the bright side, this all-nighter was exceedingly better than the one you had planned; you wouldn't have it any other way. Well played Eddie Munson.

Well played.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #🏃🏻‍♀️💨 #Spotify

[dei-lab-assistant]

Ethoslab Vampire Hunter AU

Reader-Insert version can be read here. Anyway, I hope you can enjoy this little 924 word fic! _____ “You’re up late.”

She looked up from her work maintaining the chapel’s pews. “Etho!” He looked tired, green and black clothes splattered with dark stains, cloak hanging off his body in ripped shreds, and reddish brown smeared all over his bare hand and forearm. 

Adjusting the mask covering the lower half of his face, he smiled with his eyes. “Sister.” Like all her friends, he called her by her title rather than her name—just as she preferred. As far as she was concerned, Sister was her name, not the pretentious mouthful assigned to her by the Church when she came here years ago. Hiding her identity was a drag, although preferable to being claimed by the powerful vampire queen who had marked her as a child.

“I take from the bloodstains all over your clothes, your hunt was successful?” Tossing her screwdriver onto the wooden pew beside where she was crouched, she leaned back to get a better look at her friend; it seemed none of the blood was his this time. Good.

He laughed, almost sounding embarrassed. “It doesn’t feel successful.”

“Rough kill?” She threw her long hair back over her shoulder, keeping it out of the way as she returned to work.

Running a blood smeared hand through his white hair, Etho’s mood darkened. “Even when I know my target has lived for over sixty years, and killed seventeen innocents, it’s not easy to drive a stake through the heart of a creature who looks like a ten year old girl…”

“The abbess always says you’re too kind for this work.” Picking up the screwdriver, she gave it a little flip in the air, catching it neatly. Gently running her left hand over the pile of screws, she grouped them as she counted in her head. 

Etho walked towards her. “Uh huhh. It’s hard to tell when she sends me out every week to kill monsters.” Sighing, he squeezed past her kneeling body to tiredly sink down onto the pew. “I shouldn’t have specialized in vampires.”

“Etho, don’t sit—!”

Splintering wood and the crash of ancient planks smacking beautiful tilework flooring interrupted her warning, as the pew gave way beneath him. “Ohhhhh.” He sounded pathetic as he lay on his back on the floor, gazing up at the decorative ceiling and gripping the pocket watch hanging from his belt. While she knew Etho must be a fierce and capable warrior, Sister found such an image hard to combine with the slightly hapless and very nice guy she had befriended over the years.

She groaned. “I had removed most of the screws attaching the seat to the end of the pew, so I could replace them with slightly wider screws, ‘cause the whole thing’s been getting loose, and had already been jury rigged before I ever came here…”

“Sorey.” His accent always came through when he apologized. “I’ll explain to the abbess it was my fault.”  

“Thanks.” Leaning back against the chapel wall, Sister mulled over how long it would take her to fix the pew, assuming she had the skill to properly fix something so old, delicate, and ornate—which she doubted.

“And speaking of the abbess, I got permission to take you with me on my next assignment.”

“Really?” At his words, all exasperation fled her body. Usually she was forbidden from leaving the abbey, on account of the mark on the back of her left hand. “Why?”

“You’re good at clerical work, right, Sister?”

She nodded eagerly as he continued.

“My target tonight had quite a library, and chests of saved correspondence. I needed someone to help me catalog all of it tomorrow, and since they made the mistake of letting me choose my own assistant…I chose you.” Propping himself up on his elbows, his eyes crinkled in a smile. “You do want to see more of the world, right? I don’t know why the abbess always keeps you cooped up in the church compound, but I figure I ought to show my friend a bit of the outside world if I can.”

Without thinking, Sister gripped the back of her left hand, imagining the green symbol on the other side of her half finger glove. “I’d love that.” 

Rising from the rather destroyed pew, which now littered the floor, Etho stretched. “I need to wash up. Wouldn’t want to talk to the abbess looking like this.” He pointed at her. “Now go get some sleep, we have a long day tomorrow.”

“You’re going to talk to the abbess now?”

“Some of us aren’t night owls by choice, Sister.” Etho laughed. “If I have to work this late, she can wake up to talk to me in the middle of the night from time to time.”

Grateful for his friendship, and this opportunity to leave the abbey, Sister wanted to hug the lanky man before her, but decorum held her back. The last thing she had ever wanted was rumors of being romantically involved with anyone, and years of practicing such thinking left little room for nebulous gestures like hugs—no matter how platonically she intended them. “Hm, you’ve always had fun being a bit of a pain.”

“Just doing my job.” His smile shone through in his voice as she packed up her toolbox.

“See you tomorrow, Etho.”

With a jaunty little wave, he strode off, leaving her to wonder what the next day held.

#Ethoslab #Hermitcraft #Vampire hunter AU #My content #I literally wrote this in the middle of the night #so don't judge it TOO harshly #OC

[sunflowerdaisybee]

I didn’t see anywhere that you requests were closed, so could we get a part 2 of the zombie apocalypse au? Maybe like a few years later

-fruity anon

Ok uh two things, one requests actually are closed and if it’s not findable in my bio usually my most recent post will tell you but it’s ok, I actually really enjoyed writing this anyways :]

Number two, would you guys like to see more of this? Is there any characters you’d like to see? Would you prefer if reader ended up with someone or if they stayed single forever? Just a few questions about where you guys would like to see this go as I have a lot of fun writing for it but have no idea where to take the story myself so :]

Summary: You’re first meeting with your new family had been rough, but you find that things are much nicer a few years in the future

Pairing: P!SBI & P!Benchtrio X Reader

Pronouns: None used/gender neutral

[A/n]: This is a part two of Zombies so if you haven’t read that, I recommend reading it first

It had been a few years since you had joined the small, found family that you now belonged to. The zombies hadn’t completely disappeared, but the numbers had dwindled significantly. Resources that were previously low in number or unavailable had become accessible again.

A few things had changed in the small community your family had built for itself. Techno had started keeping dogs and training them to attack and hunt, Wilbur had nearly mastered explosives, Tommy had started leaving more on expeditions, flying out on his own in search of people or supplies. Tubbo started to build new homes, making room for any new survivors that Tommy comes across, Ranboo had started farming, growing crops as long as possible to ensure that there would be food for everyone, Michael had grown into a fine young man and had taken up treating the injured, his quiet nature limiting him to certain tasks, Phil had taken up teaching the new members how to fight properly and had become the leader of sorts, and you, well you often worked as the community blacksmith. You would fix, clean, sharpen, or even make weapons and tools for your family and the growing number of people in your community. There weren’t many jobs available at the time and despite not knowing much when you started, you had plenty of time to learn.

“Hey (Y/n), are you busy right now?” Your thoughts were quickly shoved to the back of your head as you looked at the person before you. He was a younger man, around the age of Tubbo and Tommy, though he never seemed to hang around them much.

“Ah, Purpled! What can I do for ya?” You set down the ax you had been cleaning and walked towards the front of your area, greeting Purpled with a friendly smile.

“Oh uhm, my ax broke when I was out chopping trees earlier.” He placed said ax onto the small table you had set up, and the damage was clear.

“Hm, I don’t know if I’ll be able to fix it, but I can certainly try. Worst case, I have to make you a new one. How soon will you need it?” Examining the tool, you considered the possibilities, debating what would be easiest and what would be quickest.

“I’ve finished my lot for the day, so tomorrow morning by the latest. Does that work for you?” With your nod of confirmation, Purpled left with a thank you, ensuring he’d be back tomorrow to collect his tool.

The boy had always been a mystery to you. He was roughly the same age as Tommy and Tubbo, yet kept more so to himself. His strength was clear, hence his task of chopping wood, and yet he preferred to not fight. Purpled had also run into a group of other community members prior to them all living here, but had a splitting off with them. There were also very few people he talked to and the only one he seemed to spend any real time with was a man named Ponk.

“You really shouldn’t think so much when you’re working, you’ll lose a finger or two that way.” The words, followed by a light chuckle, had you turning away from your work, mentally cursing yourself for being caught in your thoughts again.

“I’m plenty careful with my work, trust me. Plus aren't explosives just as dangerous?” You poked back at Wilbur, a smile and light laugh echoing back in a manner similar to his.

“They’re only dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing.” Wilbur gave a pointed look before setting a few things down on your table, the same one Purpled had placed the ax on just moments prior. It was two plates of food and two glasses of water, lunch for you and him.

“You’re eating with me today?”

“Yeah, Techno and Phil are busy, Tubbo and Ranboo are eating together and Tommy’s run off again.” Wilbur pulled out two chairs as you set down the tools you were holding and wiped any remaining dirt off your hands.

“He’s not really running off, he’s just out on expeditions. If it weren’t for him we wouldn’t have nearly as many people living around here as we do now. Plus I think he likes to get out, get away from everyone and forget what kind of crazy world we live in for a while, ya know?” Wilbur only hummed, having already stuffed his mouth full of food.

“All these years and you still eat like Tommy’s trying to steal from you.” Shaking your head and sitting down, you took a moment to drink from your water before eating. The chat between you two was minimal and nothing of importance, mostly talk about new arrivals and how your respective works had been going.

“So, anyone catch your eye lately?” You looked at Wilbur with a suspicious but confused look.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh c’mon, we aren’t five, you know what I mean. Is there anyone you like?” Wilbur watched as you took a moment to think, actually considering the question before answering.

“I’m actually not sure, I haven’t had much of an opportunity to interact with a lot of people, I’m typically tied down with my work I suppose. What about you?” You watched Wilbur sit back defeated, clearly having expected your answer.

“There’s someone but I’m not sure if it’s worth pursuing ya know?” You just nodded, finishing off the last bits of food on your plate before setting it aside. The two of you continued to chat for a few minutes before Wilbur had to leave, taking the dishes with him as he left to his explosives, leaving you alone with your tools and thoughts once more.

Was there anyone who had caught your eye? You had given Wilbur an honest answer but something still bothered you. How could you have let yourself become so buried in your work? Perhaps a day off wouldn’t hurt, it would give you time to really meet people and take in all that your community had become. After all, most of your information and social interaction had come from what Wilbur tells you during lunch, or from people coming by in regards to their tools.

“I have to have this ax done for tomorrow, but other than that I don’t think I’ve got anything to do. Maybe I’ll take tomorrow off, even if it’s only a few hours.”

Taglist: (if you want to be tagged on posts just let me know which posts, you can reach out via message or ask! :])

#dsmp x reader #dsmp x you #dsmp fanfiction #dsmp x Y/N #dsmp x male reader #dsmp x gender neutral reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x male reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #mcyt x gender neutral reader #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp x reader #dream smp x y/n #dream smp x male reader #dream smp x gender neutral reader #dream smp x you #p!SBI x male reader #p!SBI x gender neutral reader #p!SBI x you #p!SBI x y/n #p!SBI x reader #p!bench trio x you #p!bench trio x reader #p!bench trio x y/n #p!bench trio x male reader #p!bench trio x gender neutral reader #x reader #x male reader

[thegreatarlecchina]

Thank you all for waiting so patiently on my latest Star Palace Fanfic! So without further ado pleas enjoy…

Making Friends!

The workday was finally over and Y/n let out a sigh of relief as the last customers filed out of the building. Today had been good all things considered, but their social battery was thoroughly depleted. Y/n wasn’t necessarily an antisocial person, but hours of nonstop interaction was just plain tiring. Their cheeks practically ached from smiling for so long. Why had they even taken a customer service position in the first place!? Their phone buzzed in their pocket, *Reminder: Feed Pagliacci*. Oh yeah that’s why. They couldn’t wait to get home to their little fluffball, that cat was more goofy than all the clowns they worked with put together. Once they got out of here they could finally curl up, snuggle their furry friend and- “Y/n wait up!” A familiar voice called just as Y/n was about to clock out. “Heeeey Wesley…” Y/n strained, trying not to sound as unpleasant as they felt. The boy quickly took note of their demeanor before shrinking back just a bit. “I know you're about to clock out, and it’s totally ok if you say no! But I um… need a favor.” The boy explained, clearly desperate. Y/n liked Wesley, they really did! But the poor kid always seemed to be getting in his own way. It was clear that he wanted to be useful (oh how he wanted it), but he hadn’t quite gotten his bearings yet. It didn’t help that the women who should have been mentoring him only did the bare minimum of what it took to keep her job. “Y/n?” He prodded, breaking them from their daze once more. “Oh! Yeah, uh what do you need bud?” They inquired, they were going to help him regardless (they couldn’t not help the poor kid) but they wanted to prepare themselves if it was anything like the Taki incident. “It’s about the bots…” he trailed. “Please don’t be Fairy! Please don’t be Fairy!” They thought to themselves. It’s not that they didn’t enjoy their time with Fairy Floss, but her overbearing peppiness was just one more thing they didn’t want to deal with right now. At least Zavy could read the room, but even he was quite the chatterbox. God forbid the two were together. Those two could prattle on for hours… “It’s Mirage,” the ginger revealed, “they had a bit of a conflict earlier today and they said they needed to recharge but it's been hours. Doc was supposed to look them over but she clocked out early…” Oh! Now it made sense, Wesley hated going into Mirage's room. Most everyone was creeped out by the whey faced robot but Wesley seemed genuinely frightened of the bot for reasons Y/n couldn’t quite grasp. “They don’t bite ya’know.” Y/n chuckled as they made their way down the hall. Wesley, taking this as a yes, followed them. “I know! It’s just…. I tried to go in their earlier and they were just sitting there arguing with their puppets and they-” Wesley said hastily attempting to justify the aversion before realizing how stupid he probably sounded “I’m sorry…” the Ginger began to apologize as they approached their destination. “Don’t worry about it dude! I’m just yankin your chains!” They reassured, “I’ll be fine, it shouldn’t take to long anyway.” Finally, the two stood outside the maroon door, Wesley fidgeting with his tool bag. “I can take it from here buddy.” Y/n prompted, seeming to catch Wesley somewhat by surprise. “Are you sure? We could go together since I have more ummm mechanical training.” He offered. “Nah it’s okay,” Y/n responded shaking their head, “besides if it is a tech problem I’ll call it in and y’all can fix it tomorrow.” The carrot top’s expression relaxed as he huffed out a breath of relief. “Thank you,” he sighed “for real!” And with that the boy was off.

“Okay theeen..?” Y/n turned to face the wine colored door, decorated with flourishing gold calligraphy befitting of the thespian inside. They knocked, once, twice, thrice. “Hello? Mirage?” They spoke, hoping for a “Come in!” Or “It’s open!” But alas, nothing. “It’s Y/n,” they prefaced as they opened the door“I’m coming in.” Unlocked. The door was unlocked, or rather, it never had a lock to begin with. It was something so small, but so sad.

They felt guilty entering the dimly lit room. It was one more loss of agency, one more way to dehumanize the bots who weren’t given that much autonomy to begin with. They were so smart, so human, they at least deserved some personal space. (Although some of them seemed to prefer the personal space of others more enticing) As Y/n walked around the claret colored room, they couldn’t help but notice the array of puppets in various stages of completion. The smell of wood varnish filled the air, as they scanned the room for the elusive puppeteer. Suddenly several muffled voices caught their attention. They seemed to be coming from a large wooden chest in the corner to the room. Y/n began to approach the mysterious chest before a hand on their shoulder abruptly cut them off. “What are you doing here?!” Demanded the high pitched voice. With a loud yelp, Y/n jumped, stumbling backwards. Despite the anger in their tone, the bot had the same ever-present smile plastered on their face. “Jesus Christ dude!” Y/n spat, slowly gaining their bearings “You almost gave me a heart attack!” How the heck were they so quiet? Where were they hiding? Why hadn’t they announced themselves? Question after question swam through the employee’s head as Mirage continued to glare down at them, unwavering. “Why are you in my room?” They practically growled, okay now they understood why Wesley has such severe trepidations. “Woah man!” They shot back, throwing their hands up as if admitting defeat, “I was just coming in to check on you!” Before Mirage could respond a sassy little huff could be heard from across the room. “It’s about time someone did!” Piped a soft feminine voice. “Wha- Ery!” Protested a very frustrated Mirage, who had turned around to face what appeared to be an intricately carved wooden marionette.

The puppet was sitting on a dark velveteen cushion that had been placed on a chair, with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Y/n vaguely recalled seeing her before, as Mirage often carried her around the building as a sort of comfort item. “You’ll have to excuse them dear,” the puppet apologized , “they’ve been in poor humor all day.” Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle at the little lady’s comment. (Earning them a killer side eye from the animatronic before them) The way she spoke was akin to that of a mother apologizing for her grumpy child who had missed their nap. “Well thank you for your concern, but I can assure you that Im just fine! Now if you’ll excuse us-” insisted the pale faced bot wasting no time attempting to shoo Y/n out of their room, much to Y/n’s annoyance, “We were quite busy before you arrived unannounced so goodbye and good day!” “Now hold on just one minute!” Y/n sassed, spinning to face the bot, “First of all I did not come in unannounced, I knocked!” “Thrice my love.” Added the puppet. “Thank you madam! Secondly I don’t wanna be here either!” Y/n continued as the puppet master began steadily backing up, seeking comfort in their beloved Ery. “Listen, since neither of us wanna deal with each other right now, why don’t we just get this over with. I’ll make it as quick as possible and we can both have some alone time.” They offered. Mirages head gave a odd little twitch as they mulled over the proposition. “That….that’s fair I suppose.” They sighed, picking up both Ery and her cushion before making their way over to their woodworking table, sitting themselves and the puppet down. “May I?” Y/n asked pointing at a free spot at the table. “It seems you’ve already decided.” Mirage grumbled. “Oh hush, you!” Ery chastised as Y/n took a seat, “Though I must ask darling, why is it you’ve come to visit us? I do admit not many people chose our company. Although I haven’t an inkling why.” The puppet remarked, nodding subtly toward Mirage, who in return gave a huffy little noise. Oh Y/n was gonna get along with her just fine.

“Wesley told me something happened today.” At this the twitching returned and the bot grew visibly nervous, beginning to stress stimm with their gloves. “It’s okay! You’re not in trouble!”

They attempted to no avail, “At least I don’t think you are….Anyway! He said you needed to recharge for a while but didn’t come out, so he was worried you weren’t charging properly.” Mirage looked down, then at Y/n before deadpanning “If he was so concerned why didn’t he come to me himself?” At this Y/n started to respond before stopping. What were they supposed to say? Y/n didn’t know Mirage very well (not that any of the employees did) but stating the obvious would hurt their feelings wouldn’t it? Sure they were more reclusive than the other two, but no one wanted to be told they were undesirable. No matter what Mirage might have wanted them to think Y/n figured they weren’t as threatening as they were made out to be. But on the other hand Mirage would know if they were lying to spare their feelings and that could be worse. “Oh you know how the poor boy is, scared of his own shadow.” Ery commented before Y/n could hesitate for too long.

They awkwardly chuckled in agreement before looking at Mirage who had looked askance. “I did recharge, earlier this morning.” They admitted, picking up Ery from her own chair and placing her on their lap. “You see dear, my love had to save me from some unsavory rapscallions. I thought it was quite romantic really.” She regaled, Mirage flustered at her flattery “But the woman in the coat didn’t share my sentiment I’m afraid. We were both a bit shaken up after that and well the others… weren’t helping.” As if on cue the muffled voices from before piped up again. “So those are the other puppets in there?” Y/n queried, motioning toward the chest from earlier. “They were being unpleasant, so we put them in a time out.” Ery said. At this the voices seemed to get angrier which prompted a response from their master, “Quiet, you lot!” The bot scolded, causing the voices to die down.

“So you just wanted a break?” Y/n inquired. Mirage gave a shy nod in response. They seemed less volatile now, but more nervous than before. As if hey we’re expecting to be punished simply for wanting some personal time. “Oh… I’m sorry that happened to you. Teenagers suck.” They comforted, “I won't tell Doc, and as agreed I’ll leave you be.” They stood up from the table making their way toward the door.

Wait, just like that? No grilling them for details? No snide remarks? No scolding them for missing work? “Wait!” The tall being beckoned jumping up from their seat, “You're leaving?” Y/n looked back at the jester quizzically. “Yesss? Did you want me to stay?” Mirage hesitated, why did they call to them? They did want them to leave, didn’t they? “It’s just that….You’re not upset with me? Really?” They inquired clutching their beloved Ery close to their chest. “Of course not!” Y/n snapped, “I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean to be as snippy as I was, and I wasn’t even thinking that you might be just as tired as I was.” An odd warmth crept over the bot’s sensors. Sorry? Nobody had ever apologized to them before. “I’m not mad at you for wanting to take a break dude, I just wanted to make sure you were okay! Besides,” they leaned in, “If doc wants to bitch about it so bad I’ll just remind her caffeinated ass how often she’s outside puffing like a freight train instead of doing her job.” Ery nodded enthusiastically at this statement.

Mirage was dumbstruck. They felt…validated. Like for the first time someone was in their corner. (Other than Ery of course) Somebody who didn’t make them feel like they were crazy just for standing up for themselves. “Would you…perhaps like to see what I’ve been working on?” The bot asked cautiously, much to Y/n’s surprise. “Umm sure?” They answered their gaze following Mirage to a wooden drawer on their wood working table. The animatronic opened it to reveal an array of brightly colored yarn and thread, with some wooden beads rolling around, helter skelter. But that wasn’t all, as their gloves reached into the drawer to reveal a darling woolen doll. It was simple, for a head a wooden bead with a face painted on and thick jute for arms and legs, but the real craftsmanship was in the clothes. The dolly dawned golden hair made of embroidery thread and tied back in a bun. She also sported a white gown made from yarn and finished with a blue sash of satin ribbon. “Oh Mirage, She’s beautiful!” They breathed in awe. “If you like her so much, we can show you how to make one dear!” Ery prompted, giving Mirages sleeve a little tug. “Would you?” Said the star struck Y/n turning to the bot. “I suppose we could- Since Ery wants to of course!” They retorted. It seemed odd having someone besides their puppets in the workshop, but not as unpleasant as they expected. It felt…good to be wanted. And so Mirage spent the rest of the afternoon doing something they never thought they would enjoy….making friends.

#star palace #clownblr #mirage #ery #wesley #mirage simps come get y’all juice #y/n #platonic #ery being a sassy queen #zavy #fairy floss #zavy slander #the taki incident #fanfic #it’s finally here #Star Palace belongs to @starrabbitmedia #mirage needs a break #pardon my poor punctuation

[pepperonijem]

When He Sees Me || Peter Parker

MASTERLIST

Pairing:  Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: um peter might be a little ooc and that’s because i’m writing about my unfortunate crush but i basically just changed his name to peter parker any resemblance to real persons living or dead is purely coincidental <3 

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: What if when he sees me, I like him and he knows it? What if he opens up a door and I can’t close it? Catching feelings for your best friend is never easy.

A/N: This fic is sponsored in part by @bitchassbucky, @spiderrpcrker, @shurisneakers, @midnightsunfae, and @blackberrybucky who instead of shutting down my feelings, hyped me up to turn my crush and some of the things that we’ve done into a fic <3 this goes out to anyone who has ever started crushing on their best friend.

Oh God, please don’t walk this way, please don’t wa-

“Oh, hey Peter!” The crack in your voice betrayed your attempt at a casual greeting, despite your efforts to disguise it with a cough. “How’s it-- how’s it hanging?”

“You good?” Peter smiled at you but his eyebrow quirked upwards in concern. “I just wanted to make sure we’re still on for tonight?” His concern faded into a wide grin as you nodded in response. Peter gave you a quick goodbye before walking away towards his next class.

As soon as you saw him turn into the classroom, you turned to face your closed locker, letting out a groan before setting your forehead against it. Peter had asked if you were good, and although you nodded, the butterflies in your stomach threatened to give you away. You were very much not good.

A tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your thoughts and you turned to see your friend MJ. “What did Peter do this time?” MJ asked. For the last month, every interaction with Peter -- there have been a lot -- ended this way: a groan of defeat and a few welted lines on your forehead from holding your head against your locker. You turned to give MJ a dirty look, annoyed by the amused smirk on her face.

“Absolutely nothing,” you sighed, finally lifting your head up to talk to her. You opened your locker as you talked, not wanting to make eye contact with MJ as you confessed your feelings. “He just… smiled… and everything went downhill from there.” You rolled your eyes as MJ laughed. “It’s getting worse, I have no idea how I’m going to get through tonight.”

MJ laid a hand on your shoulder. “Well we’ll all be there,” she offered. “And if it makes you feel better, no one’s even noticed. Just act normal and you’ll be fine.” She shrugged her shoulders as if that was the easiest thing to do. But you couldn’t act normal anymore, not with Peter. Not when normal means resting your head against his shoulder every time he makes you laugh. Not when normal means borrowing his clothes when his aunt May tells you to stay the night every time a study session runs too long. Not when normal means wearing the extra sweater he keeps for you because you always forget yours.

Normal was when you didn’t feel butterflies everytime he looked at you, before your curious heart got the better of you and you began to wonder what it might be like to hold his hand. Now, things were just weird. At least for you. Nothing on the surface had changed, no one noticed how your heart rate picked up every time Peter touched you, or how you suddenly felt hot whenever he winked at you. But inside your heart was navigating uncharted territory in your friendship, trying to traipse along the thin line that separated how things have always been and how you suddenly wish things could be.

Pulling your textbook out of your locker, you shut the locker door a just a little bit more aggressively than necessary. MJ gave you a small hug before linking her arm through yours as you walked to your next class.

For the rest of the day, you found it impossible to focus on anything. Instead of taking down notes on George Orwell in English, you found yourself absentmindedly doodling hearts. Everything just reminded you of Peter and your own confusing feelings. Thankfully, you didn’t share any classes with him today, leaving you enough solitude to think about just why you were so frustrated with yourself.

Logically, you knew there was nothing wrong with having a crush on someone. You’ve had plenty of crushes before, a few of which reflected a temporary lapse in judgement on your part. You remember telling Peter about each of them, gushing about the most basic acts of human decency as he rolled his eyes and told you that you deserve someone better, but nevertheless helping you pick up the pieces every time someone broke your heart. That, you realized, was what scared you the most.

If you were to date, and then break up… well who would be there with kind words and your favorite boba when everything fell apart? The thought of losing your best friend over emotions, feelings, left far too much to chance. Was the idea of holding his hand, of hearing him call you his enough to make you risk the friendship that has always been enough for you? It should be enough for you, you reminded yourself. There was too much on the line and not enough guarantee for you to risk it.

With that determination in mind, you steeled yourself for the rest of the day, determined to put your feelings to rest and go back to normal.

Unfortunately, that plan quickly fell through.

You got to the restaurant a half hour late with only a really good nap to blame. You felt bad that your friends were waiting for you, but when you got there, you found an empty spot next to Peter, where your usual order of ramen was waiting and against your will, the butterflies flew rampant. The noodle that hit Peter’s nose as he ate while waving you over made you laugh as you sat down beside him.

“I got you your usual,” Peter explained in between bites. You smiled and thanked him before digging in. Peter had done this for you many times, and you willed your body to fight against the flutter of your heart.

Thankfully, the rest of your dinner was going well, and everyone had plenty of stories to tell. MJ had begun doing more portraits of people in distress and revealed her latest piece -- a portrait of Peter slurping up a noodle only to get a rogue drop of soup in his eye. Ned and Betty were off again, but of course they tried to keep it civil (they were on again by the end of the night) so no one would have to pick sides. Flash teased Peter about the B that he made on his literature exam yesterday over poetry and Peter’s face turned beet red.

“Hey,” Peter began, attempting to defend himself. “I totally could’ve made a perfect score. I was just distracted.” He shrunk down in his seat a little bit, and the rest of you laughed teasingly.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Flash continued. “You’ve been drawing little hearts all over your notes, dude, it’s unsettling.” He rolled his eyes and took another bite of his food, swirling his fork around the bowl trying to grab as much noodle as possible.

Across the table, you and MJ made eye contact, a look of surprise between the both of you. You tried to signal her to say something before a weird silence fell on the table, but she was not reading your cues. Thankfully, Peter spoke again.

“H-hearts?” He repeated. “Why would I be drawing hearts on my notes?” Although he tried to play it off, the rise in pitch gave him away. He scrunched his face in exaggeration.

“Actually,” Betty began. “Now that I think about it, you were doing that in Spanish class too.” You glanced over at Peter who looked at you with panic in his eyes. You took a long sip of water, suddenly feeling a layer of sweat form at the back of your neck. “Wonder what that’s about.” She shrugged and turned to Ned asking if he wanted to split a slice of cheesecake with her.

Before Peter had a chance to try to defend himself once again, the waitress appeared. “Are you all ready for the check?” she asked.

“Yeah, but we’re splitting the check,” Flash replied. Betty rolled her eyes in response. “What? Just because I’m rich does not mean I have to share the wealth.”

The waitress nodded in response. As she was leaving Peter called her back. “Oh wait,” he called. “I’ll also be paying for this order,” he gestured to your bowl. She smiled at him and headed for the counter.

“Peter,” you smiled. “I have money, I can pay for myself.” Although Peter usually had to order for you, he didn’t usually pay for you, unless it was a special occasion.

“I know, I just wanted to be nice,” he responded, giving your shoulder a playful nudge. “Plus, you seem like you’ve had a rough week. Every time I see you, you seem to be lost in thought. What’s been on your mind?” The sentence came out casually, but the furrow in his brows revealed how concerned he actually has been. Peter was nothing if not observant, like he could sense things better than most people.

You let out a sigh, unsure of what to say. You didn’t want to lie to Peter, but you also didn’t want to tell him the truth, that you were thinking about him-- well, your feelings for him. Just when it seemed like he had backed you into a corner, however, the waitress had returned with the checks, and the question left unanswered.

After dinner, the six of you went to Flash’s house to watch a movie. He had a home theater and early access to new movies and he loved to remind everyone of that. Not that any of you minded, especially if it got you free popcorn and a movie out of it. Every week, a different person got to select the movie and today, unfortunately, was MJ’s turn.

You loved her, of course, but you absolutely detested her taste in movies. Mostly because she was a horror junkie, and you were absolutely not. Her last few turns however had been spent making sure you all had seen all of the Shrek movies. But today, she picked a horror film. Something about demons and the like. Peter and Betty cheered at her selection as Flash groaned. You settled into the couch in the back of the room and grabbed a blanket. Ned and Betty sat together on a smaller loveseat, and MJ sat on the floor in front of Flash’s seat, the perfect spot to be able to scare him with a single touch on his leg.

Peter sat down beside you, handing you a tub of popcorn and a soda. He pulled the blanket over his own lap as he sat criss-cross on the couch. You tried not to pay attention to how his leg was brushing against yours under the blanket, instead focusing on the screen as the room went dark.

The movie had just started, but you could already feel yourself tense up in expectation.The music was coming to a crescendo and you knew something was already going to happen. You didn’t realize just how tightly your fists had balled together in your lap till you jumped at the sound of Peter’s soft voice at the shell of your ear. “Are you okay?” He asked.

He tried to hold in a chuckle as you almost bounced the tub of popcorn off your lap. He grabbed it from you and set it to the side. “Look,” he pointed to the screen where the creature’s head had just rotated a full circle as it crawled up the wall in pursuit of the main character. “That thing kinda looks like the spider from that kid’s tv show, but not as creepy.” You let out a laugh, a little louder than you meant, and Ned turned to tell you to shut up.

The small joke was enough to dissipate the anxiety you felt towards the movie, but unfortunately only heightened your feelings about Peter. But he noticed how your fists unclenched and how your shoulders relaxed once you laughed, so he continued to tell you whispered jokes for the rest of the movie. Each time he noticed your body tensing, he tried his best to make you laugh, and god, how could you stop yourself from those butterflies anymore?

At the height of the movie, you found yourself with your hands over your ears, and eyes squeezed shut, unable to even look at the screen or hear a joke. When Peter realized a joke wouldn’t be enough, he slid closer to you and pulled you into his side and you buried your face into the crook of his neck. Before you had a chance to think about the spicy notes of his cologne or the softness of his skin, the sound of a high pitched scream in the movie caused you to jump with a gasp. In response, Peter wrapped his arms around you tight, with a gentle shush.

It was only after the music began to die down that you opened your eyes again, only to find Peter’s eyes fixed on the screen. Now that the worst was over, you no longer had an excuse to be in his embrace the way you were. You began to wiggle your way out of his arms, attracting his attention.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“Peter I’m a big kid,” you smiled, teasing. “You don’t have to hold me like a baby.” Peter let out a soft laugh before relaxing his hold on you just a bit.

“Okay,” he relented. “I’ll just hold you like this then.” He began to shift so that your head was on his shoulder, and one of his arms looped under yours, intertwining your fingers. The smile on his face was calm as if this was something the two of you did all the time, but his racing heartbeat reminded you this was something new.

The two of you remained that way for the rest of the movie. By the time the soft music began to play in the credits, you could hear light snoring from everyone else in the room. However, you and Peter made absolutely no efforts to untangle yourselves from each other. It was as if you were worried that once the lights came back on, you would never find yourself like this again, and what a sad idea that was. Normal, would never be enough for you again, not when you know now how much better life could be like this.

You weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline from the jump scares, or the sureness of his hand in yours, like it’s always belonged there, that gave you the courage to finally break the silence.

“Peter,” you breathed out, lifting your head from his shoulder, but not letting go of his hand.

He turned to you, with a look of concern, afraid of what you might say.

“Kiss me.” The words came out so softly and so quickly that you weren’t sure if you said it at all.

“Finally,” he whispered as his lips fell against yours, softly and slowly. He pulled away after what felt like hours and yet not nearly enough time. His hands reached up to cup your face. “I like you,” he admitted. “So much.”

Suddenly, you felt it. You felt exactly what it must feel like to fly, to let yourself go without worrying about gravity or anything else. The risks were still there, the numbers hadn’t changed, but you knew that no matter what happened next, just having the chance to fly would always be enough.

#peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter #peter parker #peter parker headcanon #peter parker imagine #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #i don’t know if the read more will work but uh i’ll fix it tomorrow #it’s like 4 am but i couldn’t leave this unfinished

[augustinewrites]

hirugami + “hey, i’m sorry my dog got yours pregnant, here’s some child support.” the anon who requested this is so smart

hirugami sachirou, bone-tired and half-asleep, flops face first onto his couch with the intent of sleeping until next tuesday.

his dog bounds up to him, tail wagging as he licks a wet stripe up his face.

“we’ll go on a walk tomorrow, alright?” he sighs apologetically, reaching out to smooth his hand over the golden retriever’s head.

it’d been a long shift at the clinic, filled with the typical patients. a pup that’d eaten a bee, a kitten needing its shots, a bird with a lump that happened to be an egg, a hamster who’d been sleeping for a little too long. he’d even gotten to assist in an emergency surgery, the poor dog who’d gotten hit by a car now doing fine and on the mend.

he’s thinking about what fast-food he should order when someone bangs on his front door, both he and his pup straightening at the sound. he ignores it at first, thinking he can play off not being home when the person outside yells,

“i know you’re home!”

groaning, he drags himself off the couch, cursing whoever is bugging him at– a glance at his watch reads 11:23pm.

when he finally unlocks and pulls the door open, you’re standing there, arms crossed over your chest, obvious annoyance marring your pretty features.

he straightens a little, trying to smooth his wrinkled uniform when he realizes that after two months of being neighbors, he still doesn’t know your name. “can i help you?”

“my dog’s nipples are swollen,” you snap without so much as a ‘hello.’

definitely not what he was expecting. “uh, okay?”

“she’s gained over ten pounds.”

he cocks his head. “that sounds–”

“like she’s pregnant? maybe that’s because your mutt knocked her up!”

as if on cue, said mutt drops his leash at hirugami’s feet, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he barks excitedly, unaware (or perhaps very aware?) of the scandal he might have caused.

“oh,” he says, trying to keep his expression neutral. “but…how do you know it was him?”

you’re only getting more pissed, agitation apparent in the way your hands clench and unclench. “you know the hole in our shared fence that our landlord refuses to fix? yeah, that’s how i know.”

some days his dog stayed in the backyard while he was at work. apparently yours did too.

okay, so it’s a reasonable assumption then. what were the odds that neither had been neutered or spayed?

“things aren’t looking good for us, bud,” he chuckles, patting his dog on the head. “didn’t i talk to you about using protection?”

“i can’t believe you’re joking around right now,” you scoff, glaring up at him. “do you know how much these vet bills are going to cost me? how much puppies are going to cost me?”

he does know, so he reaches into the pocket of his scrubs to pull out a notebook, scribbling an address and a name. “okay, i’m sorry, so here. i know people at this clinic who can help knock a few zeroes off the costs. you go there, and i’ll give them a call for you.”

you stare warily at the piece of paper he’s offering you. wise, considering he could be giving you the address of an abandoned building in a red light district, for all you knew.

“and don’t worry,” he grins, leaning against the doorframe. “i’m gonna make sure this one pulls his weight. he’s not gonna be an absentee father. he’ll be awake during midnight feedings and everything.”

“ugh,” you roll your eyes, snatching the paper from his hands. “just keep your frat boy of a dog away from my girl from now on.”

“‘frat boy?’” he hums. “an odd term.”

you gesture at him vaguely, shrugging. “well, i mean– look at you. don’t dogs start to look like their owners or something?”

hirugami raises a brow. “and what about me screams ‘frat boy?’”

you don’t hesitate to lay into him, and for some reason he finds it wildly attractive. “you’ve got the tousled ‘i just rolled out of bed’ hair that just works, you’re obviously over six feet tall, and don’t even get me started on–” you point at the veins on his arm. “and yeah, you both have that whole dreamy eye thing that might have worked on my dog, but it’s not gonna work on me.”

“you think i have dreamy eyes?”

you look flustered all of a sudden, and he’d laugh if he weren’t absolutely sure you’d punch him. “what– no!”

he holds up his hands in surrender. “hey, you said it, not me. but don’t worry, i’m not trying to impregnate anyone. least of all pretty girls who yell at me in the middle of the night.”

your lips twitch to form what he assumes will be a snarky response, but you don’t say anything, turning on your heel and muttering incoherently as you head back to your door.

_

it turns out your stupid hot, annoyingly tall neighbor gave you a legit address.

the 24 hour vet clinic is relatively small, but functioning, the staff pleasant and surprisingly helpful once you show them the crumpled note.

the door to one of the examination rooms opens, an owner carrying a distraught looking cat in a crate out. they’re followed by a vet in a white lab coat who calls your dog’s name.

your head snaps up at the familiar voice, meeting the dreamy eyed gaze of the man you’d just yelled at last night. “glad you could make it.”

“why didn’t you tell me you worked here?” you ask, following him into the exam room, your dog at your heels. “you’re a vet?”

(why does it make him ten times hotter?)

he helps your dog hop up onto the table, humming as he pokes and prods at her. “i didn’t get a chance to bring it up with all the yelling you did. also, i was still wearing my scrubs when i answered the door.”

“i honestly thought you were a nurse,” you admit a little sheepishly.

you stare at him in silence as he finishes his work-up, watching as he makes a few notes, leaving briefly and returning with a bag of pet food that he drops into your lap.

“well, she’s definitely pregnant. here’s some veterinarian recommended child support.”

#this prompt was the funniest thing #hirugami x reader #hirugami sachiro x reader #hirugami sachirou #haikyuu!! #augustine’s prompt event

[travlersjoy444]

An Oath to Keep

TOH Hunter/The Golden Guard x reader

I used two of the angsty writing prompts- I have more oneshots in the making with the others >:)

Word Count: 4.1k

*******

“Aw, need some help?” I cooed, hovering above the fight.

“(Y/N)! What the heck are you doing here?!” Yelled my best friend, shoving another guard away.

“Hmm…maybe because I heard trouble. Or maybe it’s because you screamed my name dramatically while saying ‘I’m DYING!’.”

“You actually weren’t supposed to hear that.” He huffed, aiming another punch at the guards that surrounded him.

“It was pretty funny, so I’m glad I did.” I chuckled, landing next to him. I dodged a punch and tripped a guard, slapped a fire glyph onto someone, and watched Hunter knock out the last guard.

“Woah, we made quick work of them.” Hunter chuckled.

“I know- what would you do without me?” I laughed and ruffled his hair.

“I’d have a much easier life, that’s for sure.”

“And a very boring one. But I’ve gotta fly, so unless you want to spend the night helping me make potions, I’ll bid you adieu.” I waved, hopping onto my staff again.

“Wait! Can I help you make potions, actually? I’m free tonight, and I’m bored. And…making potions sounds fun.”

“Well…It’d be your first time, right?” I said, raising my eyebrows.

Hunter turned red. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Your first sleepover! What’d you think?” I said innocently. “Get your mind out of the gutter, darling!”

He somehow turned redder. “Titan, you’re gonna make me regret this.” He groaned and sat behind me on the staff.

“What’d you do to start that fight anyways?” I asked, looking over my shoulder.

“I-uh…I just…got caught with something I wasn’t supposed to have.”

“Ah, underage apple blood consumption?”

“N-no! Of course not, that’s just looking for trouble.” He stuttered.

“Right, you’re too straightlaced for that. Fair enough, I’m not into underage drinking either.”

“Oh come on, I’m not that straightlaced.” He scoffed. “I’m actually rebelling right now, I’ll have you know- if my uncle knew I was here, he’d literally kill me.”

“Wow, you’re so bad.” I snorted.

“I know, I’m practically a delinquent.”

“Yeah, you oughta be in the conformatorium.”

“I’m such a danger to society.”

“Oh hey, we’re here. Try not to burn down the house Mr. Badboy.” I said dryly.

He had been to my house before, and knew it was…unorthodox. The place was an abandoned teahouse I discovered a few years ago, and I’d fixed it up- but I had left a lot of things untouched, like the sign that read ‘New Salem Tearoom’ on the door, the parlor that still looked like a restaurant, and the smell of tea that lingered no matter how many times I tried to cover it. It was annoying at first, but I had grown to appreciate it.

Hunter sat in one of the booths, drawing little pictures in the dust.

“Why don’t you ever clean this place?!” He coughed- he had accidentally created a dust cloud.

“I do, but the dust always comes back. It’s like this place doesn’t want to change. Which is fair, although slightly inconvenient.”

He sneezed. “Right. Slightly inconvenient…I’m never gonna get this dust off of my gloves…ugh.”

“It’s like a curse. BEWARE THE EVIL DUST…” I chuckled. “Now c’mon, let’s go upstairs. This section is gloomy.”

*******

It had been a long night for me, but Hunter had fallen asleep immediately. He needed the rest- his dark circles were so extreme that they could be mistaken for bruises.

I worried about him, to be honest. I didn’t know a lot about Hunter’s personal life, only that he was homeschooled and raised by his uncle, who seemed to be very strict…but I never pried. It was none of my business, though I was still curious. But he was usually tired and battered, as though he was used to physical wear and tear- much more so than the average sixteen-year-old. I had theories as to why, but again, I didn’t pry.

I had been working on potions for hours now- I had to restock my shop tomorrow, and I was still missing a few popular options.

There was a yawn from the couch.

“Hey…(Y/N)? What time is it?” Hunter mumbled.

I shrugged. “Midnight?”

He hauled himself off the couch and walked towards me.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He murmured.

“My roof, my rules… But…thanks for the care.” I said, smiling lightly.

“Of course… Is there anything I can do to help with your potions?”

“Mm…can you read a book? Like..out loud? That’d make this less boring…”

He shrugged and flipped open the book on the desk- Journal three, a book I found on an excursion to the human realm with my friend Eda.

“Uh… ‘I can hardly believe it’s been six years since I began studying the mysteries of Gravity Falls, Oregon’...” He closed the book. “Actually, my voice is kind of annoying. Maybe we should watch a show or something.”

“I mean…if you want. But your voice isn’t annoying. It’s actually really nice, but do what you want I guess.”

“Oh, uh…it’s not?” He blushed, looking sort of flustered. I looked away- Nope, that was definitely not cute (Y/n), shut up shut up shut up-

I interrupted my own thoughts. “Nope. It’s one of my favorite voices, but of course I’m kind of biased…after all, you’re one of my favorites.” I said, blushing lightly.

“Thanks. I..I needed to hear that. Um…you’re one of my favorites too…” He said, touching my hand.

I stared at him, trying to ignore my sweaty palms. This is fine, this is fine, fuck you Hunter stop being cute!

“..and that’s why I’m forcing you to go to sleep.” He said, grinning impishly as his grip on my hand tightened.

“Wait, what?!” I screeched as he dragged me towards my bedroom. “This is a BETRAYAL! I thought you were my FRIEND, Hunter!”

“Nope! I’m busy evilly forcing you to be healthy- take THAT!” He cackled.

“Yeah, well you’re one to talk- I can tell you have insomnia just looking at you!”

“See, I care more about your health.” He shrugged.

“No, if I’m sleeping, then you are too.” I said sternly.

“Fine, but we’re watching stuff on the crystal ball first.”

“Deal.” I nodded, setting it up. With another wave of my hand, I had created a smaller bed on the ground next to mine for Hunter to sleep in, but in the meantime he would sit with me on the big bed.

….I woke up a bit later to the show still going and Hunter asleep on my shoulder. We were both still on top of the blankets, and he was still in his armor. That’s probably uncomfortable.

I blushed as he wrapped his arms around my waist, still asleep. I tried to ignore it and close my eyes again…but I guess it wasn’t too bad, really…it was actually sort of pleasant…

*******

Hunter was gone when I woke up. He had work in the early morning, and rarely had days off. But he did leave a note, which was sort of nice. I glanced over it.

Sorry, I have an early shift again- thanks for letting me come over! Uncle had better not find out though, or I’m totally dead- nonetheless, we should do this again sometime maybe?

-Hunter

I smiled. I hoped so.

But I had work today too. There was an ingredient I had been needing, but it was only sold at the Lost Threads Bazaar in Latissa- a night market of chaos, crowds, and the finest array of scientific and arcane contraband the Boiling isles had to offer. It was magic untethered by law, no longer held back by covens- it was wild. Wild magic at its strongest, in the catacombs deep beneath the city. The higher classes would never know of its grandeur- they sometimes caught the scent wafting through the vents or clinging to their skirts, but they would never really know it. The tingle of wildness coursing through you, burning you to the core, dancing through your veins until it reaches your fingertips…The feeling of running freely, unbound from expectations or reason. I loved it.

But the Bazaar was only there twice a year. So I had to make it count.

*******

I landed in Latissa by dusk. There was always a challenge in getting past the guards, but once I reached the little yarn shop, I knew I was safe. No one would suspect a yarn shop of hiding the entrance to the catacombs, but looks can be deceiving…and the Emperor’s guards can be very stupid.

“Good-day dear, what can I get’cha?” Croaked the old demon at the register.

“Well, you see…I seem to have a few lost threads.” I answered, emphasizing the lost threads.

“Ah, of course.” She said, a glint in her eyes. “Try the back room.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” I smiled, tossing her a snail. I opened the door to the back room, where there was a disgustingly moist trapdoor that was probably made of some kind of flesh. I swung it open to see the ladder to the catacombs- perfect…

The Lost Thread Bazaar assaults one’s senses, like a tidal wave of stimulation. I was immediately hit by scents, sounds, sights….The smell of illegal substances and chemicals, merging with the sweet smell of bakery and other food vendors, the sounds of people, talking, fighting, screaming…and the sights of a giant crowd, golden lights from torches and spells, somehow illogically illuminating the underground cavern…It was chaotic and definitely overwhelming to those who weren’t used to it, but this wasn’t my first rodeo. I had a goal in mind, and if I could manage to override my childlike curiosity, I might just achieve it.

I shoved through the crowd, trying to reach the stand I had in mind- It was always in the same place, and despite the pure chaos around me, I knew the place well enough to find the stand that sold rivetraptor scales. Rivetraptors were rarely seen, and their scales were illegal because they were commonly used as drugs.

I preferred to use them for what Hunter dubbed ‘(Y/N)’s simple twisted science.’

I called it experimenting. All the best potions were made through experimentation and wild magic, so why shouldn’t I make my own recipes? Contrary to popular belief, it didn’t have to be dangerous!

Speaking of Hunter, I…weirdly kinda wished he were here. I liked being around Hunter- although, logically it didn’t make a lot of sense. I was a wanted wild witch with snarky comments and sarcasm as my main weapons, while he was from some weird strict household that he didn’t talk about much. He liked rules- and not just the rules that worked in his favor!-And again…I was a criminal! I liked to stay up late and sleep in, and Hunter talked about his sleep schedule of staying up late and waking up early as enviable…

But there were things I loved-sorry, liked- about him. I appreciated and related to his passion for knowledge, and wholeheartedly loved the fact that he helped me with my ‘simple twisted science’. I thoroughly enjoyed making him flustered- it was fun and fairly easy, making it a wonderful source of serotonin. And despite not having any real magical powers, he was strong. He had a palisman who was his main source of magic, and they worked off each other brilliantly. Honestly, I could hardly believe he was called half-a-witch-Hunter as a kid, but again, I really didn’t trust his uncle. And it was so cute that he cared about my sleeping habits and wellbeing- I mean it was so nice. It was nice. Hunter was an appreciated member of my social circle, and I wished he were here because when I’m around him I feel nice. And that’s it.

But he would hate it here. I already knew he would hate it- he may love theories and experimentation, but again, he also loved order and authority. The chaos would drive him mad.

….though, on the other end of the argument, I hated it here at first too. The noise, the crowds, the angry drunks and on-the-run criminals…but I had grown to love it, so maybe there was a possibility for Hunter to love it too.

“Hey you!” A deep voice shouted. “You’re the one on that poster over there, eh?”

Heh, sucks for whoever's getting yelled at- I recognized that voice as the voice of a bounty hunter that had tried to catch me a few times.

Oh wait.

“(Y/N) (L/N)! We meet again!” Chuckled the robed figure menacingly.

“See, it’s been a lovely chat, but for some reason I plan on retiring for the night a bit early.” I said, waving dramatically.

“Not this time kid-”

I turned and ran. Stuid bounty hunters, always ruining my night…

Oh BLAST IT! There was a new vendor in front of my main exit! I turned tail and dove into the crowd, heart racing. The bounty hunter was onto me- why ME?! There’s like a million criminals here!

I clambered up one of the many ladders, kicking off a little demon that had caught my boot. I sensed someone on the ladder beneath me- I sqeaked as I took a look- he was a lot closer than expected! I aimed a kick at his head and climbed faster. By the time I reached the sewer grate, I had put a healthy distance between us.

I hopped out in the middle of the road, and threw my cloak on in hopes of being unrecognized.

Well, there goes my night at Lost Threads... I thought mournfully.

Maybe I could still manage to have fun. Latissa might be a boring place for boring people, but maybe- oh my titan-

The bounty hunter had caught up to me! I froze. Nonononono- even with my hood up, he recognized me. His eyes narrowed.

“Well, this has been fun, but I seem to be needed elsewhere.” I said, giving him a two-fingered salute- and I was off.

I peeked over my shoulder, too aware of how close he was. No-

I hit the ground hard. Shoot- I looked up, trying to scramble away, but it was too late.

“I’m needed elsewhere too, wild witch. So we’ll make this quick.” He smirked.

I closed my eyes, bracing for impact. I’ll talk my way out of this later. I’ll be fine. I can escape the conformatorium. Luz and Eda will help me, I’ll be fine-

The blow never came. There was a thump of boots hitting the ground, and the sound of a familiar voice.

“Get away from (Y/N).”

I slowly opened my eyes. There was a silhouette blocking the light, someone standing in front of me...Hunter?

“Gold-Golden Guard!” Stuttered the bounty hunter.

The Golden Guard? How does he know my name?!

I watched as the still-blurry silhouette stepped towards the bounty hunter.

“Hiiiii~” The Golden Guard waved obnoxiously at my captor. “You should probably leave, that is unless you want to face...oh, let’s see. Conformatorium charges, fines for disturbing the peace, ooh! Maybe I can even refer you to petrification- make an example of you, y’know?”

What the heck- why is the Golden Guard saving me?!

“Forgive me sir, but your ‘(Y/N)’ is a wanted criminal!” Said the bounty hunter nervously.

“Is ‘my (Y/N)’ currently doing anything to you?” ‘My (Y/N)’- I’ve heard that before, in that exact voice-

“I mean-” He was cut short.

“Nope! So I think you’d be best pretending this never happened. The Emperor is not a merciful man, so don’t stand in my way if you wanna get out of here in one piece.”

“...yes sir.” He mumbled. The bounty hunter turned and left the alleyway, leaving me alone with...the Golden Guard.

“You’re welcome!” He said after a beat of silence.

“How...how do you know my name? Why’d you save me?!” I gaped.

“Oh. Well...I guess you might as well know...” He slid off the gold mask. “Ta-da!”

There was a mix of emotions pounding through my head, merging with the adrenaline that hadn't quite worn off yet. Ashy blonde hair, magenta eyes, scar, nicked ear, that adorable bit of hair that’s always in his face…

“Hunter?” I murmured. Something felt wrong. This isn’t right this isn’t right this isn’t right-

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down and think logically. Hunter was in Latissa, wearing the Golden Guard’s sigil.

He raised an eyebrow. The pounding in my head returned, and I felt rooted to the ground. I hardly even noticed him stepping closer to me.

“(Y/N)?” He said softly.

“This- this isn’t real. You can’t be…. You’re the Golden Guard-” I stammered. “You can’t be him…”

He looked pale, as if he was realizing something was wrong. “See, I didn’t quite mean for you to find out like this…I thought you were in Bonesborough tonight.”

“So you’re not even gonna try to deny it, huh.” I chuckled. “I can’t believe I was so stupid!” I grinned, more to myself than to the liar in front of me.

“Hey, you weren’t being stupid- I’m just a pretty good liar!” He said as if it was reassurance.

“Yes I was being bloody stupid! Eda warned me about not trusting the wrong people, and I thought I was doing great! I thought I was friends with a really awesome person named Hunter- if that’s even your real name- and now you show up, allied with the person I’ve spent my whole life working against! And we’ve been hanging out for months- maybe even years by this point, I haven’t counted- and I trusted you!” I paused for air, trying to calm down. “Hunter…I like you. Maybe I even love you.” I sighed, turning back to him as calmly as I could muster. He met me with confusion. “So forgive me, but this isn’t quite ideal.” I finished.

He looked down guiltily.

“...Why do you think my coven is so bad, anyways?” He mumbled.

“Well.” I sighed, standing up. “Possibly because it forces us to limit our magic. Or maybe because the Emperor tried to petrify my friend Eda, and took Luz’s only way home. Oh…and the fact that the current coven head lied to me really isn’t helping your case too much for some reason.” I said flatly.

“But we’re friends! Friends lie to each other all the time, right?” He said desperately.

Right. Hunter….is still Hunter. He isn’t being malicious…

I breathed in sharply. “I don’t know what they’re teaching you at that coven, but that is literally the opposite of what good friends do. I don’t think you meant to do anything wrong- I know you well enough for that- but nonetheless, this…..you being the Golden Guard….it changes things, Hunter.”

“It doesn’t need to! You- you could come with me, join the Emperor’s Coven! You could be like- the Silver Guard or something- you’re powerful enough, easily-”

“Hunter. I’m not joining the Emperor’s coven. And if you force me, I will hate you forever. I’m a wild witch, and being around you puts me in danger.” I sighed.

“B-but I just saved you! Isn’t that…like, a good thing? Can’t you just trust that I won’t sell you out?” He whispered.

“I’d really like to. Believe me, I wish I could.” I muttered, pulling my hood back on. “But you’re loyal to your uncle, and he seems to be loyal to the Emperor to get you such a high position. Maybe you’re more loyal to me than you are to your coven, but it’s not a risk I’m willing to take….” I looked back at him.

“Wait!” He said, thrusting his hand out awkwardly. “An everlasting oath!” He grinned. "I…ah…wasn’t lying about not having any magic, so you have to do that part, but….you know…that way I can’t sell you out. Even if Belos threatened me. So….is that trustworthy?”

I stared at his outstretched hand, barely registering his words for a few seconds. Hunter…I fucking love you.

“Please. I don’t want to lose you…” He whispered.

“Well…looks like you won’t.” I smiled and drew a spell circle.

He grinned and shook my hand, sealing the everlasting oath.

*******

In retrospect, it was too easy. I really should have foreseen that it was just too easy. But I didn’t, so at least for a while, things were back to normal with Hunter and I. I was slightly more on my guard, and he was a bit shyer, but it wasn’t anything really noteworthy. However….Of course, problems would arise- they always do. This one was inevitable.

But the day started out normal enough. I did my usual potion-selling rounds, bought a new pair of boots…y’know, everyday stuff. The trouble came at nightfall, when I heard a pounding on the door.

I sighed and peered out the window to see Hunter- a fairly normal sight at my house. The slightly less normal part was how he looked pale and panicked.

I swung the door open.

“Hey.”

“(Y/N), you’re in danger.” He said shakily, stepping into the house.

“Wait, how?” I frowned, but he was already headed upstairs. I darted after him to see he had dragged out my duffle bag and was shoving random things into it.

“There isn’t much time- do you need these?” He said, holding up a pair of goggles.

I shrugged. “Ma-maybe. But again, what’s going on? Why do you look sick?”

“Uncle is punishing me.” He muttered. “Scrying potion.” He said louder. “I swear, I didn’t say anything…but Uncle noticed I was…I was getting lazy, not waking up as early, coming in later- he…” -Hunter swallowed hard- “He made a scrying potion.”

…And he found me.

“No. This is- this is great! Ha- brilliant.” I laughed sarcastically. I slowed though, noticing that Hunter stiffened as though bracing himself for impact….what’s that about?

He deflated as he realized I wasn’t going to hurt him- why would he even think that?!

“I’m so sorry.” He said solemnly. “You were right- being around me put you in danger.”

“Yeah. It did.” I said lamely. There wasn’t much else to say. I sighed and took the bag from Hunter, trying not to make eye contact.

“What are you gonna do?” He whispered.

“Oh, it’s simple really- I’m going to disappear, Hunter. I’m gonna vanish off the face of the Isles, never to be seen again.”

He hung his head. “...Oh. …That makes sense.”

“Oh, cheer up. I’ll write you letters.” I said with a weak smile, and finished packing.

He froze, staring me in the eyes. “You…will? You mean…you aren’t mad at me?”

“You kept your promise.” I answered simply. “You’re a good friend, Hunter…one of the best I could ever have.”

“Oh…thanks.” He swallowed. “But (Y/N)....listen, my uncle is extra mad…because of me. He’ll hurt you more than usual because…because I’m stupid.”

“What do you mean?” I frowned.

“I…Well…He found out that…I like you. You know…butterflies, blushing kind of like you….I swear I didn’t know I did! But…the main character of my book felt that way about her girlfriend, so I just…”

I blushed, waiting for him to continue.

“...the- the feelings themselves are irrelevant. The point is, my uncle found out and wants to capture you even more now. Because of me.”

I smiled despite everything- bad timing, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t cute. “Hey…I’m the one in danger, quit making it about you.” I teased.

“Uh- sorry! I-”

I took his hand. “Listen. Like you said, I don’t have a lot of time. But before I go, I need to make sure you know a few things, okay?”

He nodded.

“Cool. Number one: I won’t really even leave Bonesborough- I’ll just stay low-profile and change locations. If you need me, I won’t be far. Two: Someone needs to take care of this old teahouse- keep the demons from taking it, right? So if you want to just hang out here between missions, that’d be helpful. Three: Butterflies and blushing usually comes from a crush- you have a crush on me. That’s fair, I’m very hot. Luckily for you, the feeling is mutual, but we don’t have time for that. And lastly…I’m gonna miss you, Hunter. I’m gonna miss you a lot.”

He held my hand tighter, blushing. “I’m gonna miss you too, (Y/N). Promise you’ll send letters?”

“I promise.” I said, and pulled him into a hug.

“Stay safe, okay?” He mumbled into my shoulder.

“Same goes for you.” I chuckled.

There was a knock on the door downstairs. He stiffened. “The scouts are here.”

I hopped onto my staff and swung the window open. “In that case, I’d better get going. I’ll see you again- someday. I promise.” I smiled bittersweetly.

“See you then, I guess!” He said, leaning out the window as I flew off.

I had a location in mind, obviously…ever heard of the Owl House?

#x reader #the owl house hunter x reader #the owl house x reader #the owl house #the golden guard #golden guard x reader #toh hunter x reader #hunter toh #toh golden guard #toh golden guard x reader

[tteokbokkei]

𝘏𝘢𝘪𝘬𝘺𝘶𝘶 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘉𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺

pairings - akaashi, iwaizumi x gn!reader

warnings - swearing, reader gets called clingy, small amounts of arguing, hurt comfort ofc

AKAASHI

Chances are he got to engrossed in work because it’s not like akaashi to forget something like this

Really, he remembers almost everything when it comes to you so when you were still sat alone at 10pm on your birthday, you began to worry something had happened to him

There was no dinner ready and you hadn’t dressed up yet, thinking Keiji would come home and tell you what you were doing

Yet you found yourself ringing his phone for the 5th time that night, this time he answered

“What y/n I’m really busy?” His tone led you to believe he wasn’t in the best mood

You asked him when he would be home and that seemed to set him off

“I told you i had to do things today okay, I won’t be home until later I don’t get why you have to know what I’m doing all the time. Think about me for once”

And with that you hung up, it was obvious what had happened.

Keiji felt guilty yeah, but he did need to work and he knew that he could just apologise when he got home. Sure, it wasn’t like you to just hang up but he figured you were also tired from the long week and left it at that. It wasn’t until he opened his messages he felt his blood freeze.

There, screaming at him from the screen of his phone, was a text from bokuto that read ‘hey, y/n isn’t picking up could you say happy birthday for me man?’

He had to get home.

-

By the time the black haired man had arrived back home, he was soaked from the rain and biting at his nails nervously. The lights in the house were all off and he just hoped to god that you were still inside the house. Even though it would be perfectly within your right to not be.

The living room held a silence that he had never quite hated as much as he did now. The pile of openers cards from your friends seemed to taunt him from the coffee table. How had even atsumu remembered and he hadn’t? He was your boyfriend. He hoped he would still be when he finally found you. You were curled up on your side in your bedroom. Obviously not asleep but not showing any signs of acknowledgment either. Guilt tugged at his stomach.

“Y/n” he started, trailing off

What was he supposed to say to you? ‘Hey sorry I forgot your birthday and called you selfish’. Yeah, great going Keiji.

“Y/n I’m really sorry and I know that probably won’t make it better and I can’t take back what I said to you.” He drew in a shaky breath, “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to forget about you I’ve just been working so hard and-“

A sob cut him off. His soft hand on your shoulder broke your resolve and you allowed him to turn you around.

“Just,” you sobbed, “please don’t do it again Keiji, all I do is think about you”

He wrapped his arms around your shaking form, pulling you into his embrace.

“I know, I should’ve been thinking more about you. I’m so sorry sweetheart, I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow”

IWAIZUMI

Hajime had always been a pretty busy person, this was evident ever since you started dating

Now it was his final year though, you had never seen him more stressed

So, you decided to show up to one of his practices on your birthday, for the past 2 years he had always left early or at least with you when it was a special date

And it was your birthday but that didn’t mean you couldn’t treat him too and you know how hard he had been working, so you made a bento

The moment you walked in to the gym it was like everyone but him lit up, the third years came over to say hi and even Kyoutani sent you a quick nod

You tapped your boyfriend on the shoulder and when he didn’t reply you went for a hug, only for him to move at the last minute

“Why are you here y/n?” He asked coldly

You explained to him that you wanted to come see him like always, not mentioning your birthday in case it was a joke, he wasn’t laughing

“A little clingy don’t you think? You text me all day and now you come and interrupt practice? Why are you so needy today damn?”

You just turned and walked out, hoping nobody had heard your conversation

“Hey Iwa aren’t you gonna leave early?” Matsukawa asked him at the end of practice.

“No, why?” He had calmed down significantly now and had forgotten what he said to you

“Uh… cause it’s y/n’s birthday?” Makki called from behind the net, “you do it every year, right?”

Iwa dragged his hands down his face. He had been too stressed to even remember what day it was let alone your birthday. And now he had forgotten you completely after making those comments.

“Why would they want to?” Kyoutani growled up from his sweeping, “after what you said to them”

A dozen pairs of eyes seemed to bore into his soul. Guilt had stolen his breath and his head was spinning but he knew he had to go and fix this before it was too late.

-

You were sat on the cold step of your house, sobbing into the sleeves of one of your boyfriends jumpers. You should probably give that back. If your conversation earlier was anything to go by then he wouldn’t be keeping you around much longer. Staring at the fabric, now stained with your tears, you thought about what he said. Maybe you were clingy.

“Y/n!”

You looked up to see a very out of breath Iwaizumi runnning towards you, face flushed

Looking down, you grumbled a quick ‘what?’. You were hurt and the balloons attached to your bag were smacking against the side of your house as if taunting you.

“You know Iwaizumi” he flinched at the use of his last name, “if you wanted to break up, you could at least have the decency not to do it on my birthday”

“No y/n, I would never- I don’t want to break up” he cried, words were failing but he carried on, “I’ve been so stressed looking after the team and Oikawa with his knee I just forgot”

When your eyes met it felt like his heart had broken in two. Your eyes were glistening with unshed tears and you had obvious tear tracks down your face. A nod let him know it was okay to carry on.

“Please, I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to forget, can we try again tomorrow? I’d never hurt you on purpose”

Tears began running down your cheeks again.

You nodded and the man pulled you in for a kiss, not caring about the taste of your salty tears. Murmuring ‘I love you’ against your lips, he pulled you in as close as he could to you. Like he would never let you go.

It might not have been the best birthday but you were content knowing he would always try his best to make up for the things he does.

reblogs are appreciated! and i'm a new blog so any asks and follows are extra cool!!!

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hurt comfort #iwaizumi x reader #iwa x reader #iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi comfort #akaashi x reader #akaashi headcanons #akaashi angst #akaashi comfort

[todoscript]

SEQUEL TO  “don’t forget it”

SYNOPSIS: One week after accidentally blowing you off on your date, Bakugou Katsuki seeks your forgiveness.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

genre: fluff, very little angst

word count: 5.4k+

warnings: none really accept maybe a character sustaining an injury

author’s note: hellooooo this is a very very very late part 2 of my don’t forget it drabble that many people asked for! i hope this lived up to your expectations and was worth the wait!

Since the events that led you to leave Bakugou’s room in a fit of bitterness after attempting to penetrate that thick head of his, he hadn’t been able to speak to you for a week.

It goes without saying he did his best to chase you down the hallway from his room and toward the elevator the moment he realized his faults. But at the stink eye you shot him through the minimizing slit of the elevator doors sliding into place, he knew he had no right to reconcile with you after pulling a stunt like that. Nor did he think you’d want to spare him any more words to begin with. It was clear you were done arguing with him.

“C’mon man, it’s probably best to let her cool down before you try to make up with her,” was the advice Kirishima offered when Bakugou returned to his room, disgruntled as he heavily fell back into his seat next to the desk. He did the bare minimum to acknowledge his friend’s words with a grunt before resuming tutoring the redhead, his method of teaching suddenly harsher than how it began thanks to his soured mood. He lapsed the day away by pounding Kirishima with problems upon problems against that hard noggin of his, both literally and figuratively.

At the very least, Kirishima earned himself a passing grade on their exam as a result of his hard work and their rigorous tutoring sessions. But what followed Bakugou’s and your relationship was still undetermined.

Days later and you were relentless in giving him the cold shoulder.

Bakugou was met with nothing but empty glances and blatant disinterest whenever he crossed your path. It felt like the wall you slotted between him grew another layer at each encounter, your defenses so impenetrable, it could give Kirishima’s quirk a run for its money. He couldn’t so much as utter a word in your direction without you effectively dodging every possible interaction in favor of joining another conversation nearby.

At first, Bakugou shrugged it off, calling your “childish attitude” unwarranted for something he thought was incredibly trivial. In his eyes, it was just an ordinary date at some run-of-the-mill restaurant he just happened to suggest to you because he took a liking to their spicy food. Not like it was some fancy dinner reservation serving caviar on dry toast beside a pretty, city night skyline. To him, it was nothing special.

However, as the week continued to roll by, it became clear to him how much he hurt you due to his selfishness. In a hangout with the Bakusquad, he learned that you apparently told Mina, along with the rest of the girls, everything during one of your girls’ nights. Which included the events prior to your heated argument in Bakugou’s dorm. And Mina, being just as peeved as you were at how Bakugou stood you up that day, had to let the blond know of the damage he’d done.

.

.

“I swear, Bakugou Katsuki, I know you can be an asshole sometimes—”

“Make that all the time,” Sero quietly adds in the middle of Mina’s rant while he lounges backward on Kaminari’s bed. If it wasn’t for his current dilemma, Bakugou would have elbowed him in the back of the head.

“—but this is crossing the line!” she finishes. Her arms are thrown exaggeratedly over her chest. The amber surrounded by the black scleras of her eyes points a beady look at the ash-blond crisscrossed on the floor between Kirishima and Kaminari.

“Poor girl sat there for hours waiting for you, only to find out she got blown off because you couldn’t even properly check your reminders!” She paces back and forth in the room, feet excessively stepping across the floor as she’s engulfed by the emotions she feels for her friend. “What’s worse? She comes back and finds out you’ve been doing your own thing with Kirishima the whole time!”

“Hey! It’s not like we were playing around! We were actually having a very serious study grind, thank you very much,” the redhead immediately clarifies. Though his explanation doesn’t alleviate Bakugou’s case in the slightest, who pounds his palms against the surface of the table they’ve gathered around.

“Look. I fucking get it, Ashido. I screwed up, okay?! Now what the fuck do you want me to do about it?!” he exclaims, anger overpowering his voice, but it does little to deter Mina.

“Fix it, obviously!” she quips back with equal fierceness, leaning in eye level with Bakugou.

“And how do you propose I do that, Raccoon Eyes? Hah?” Repositioning his elbow to rest on the table, he leans his cheek against his hand. “Y/n won’t even let me within five fucking feet in front of her and you still expect me ‘fix this’?”

Despite the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders, no immediate answer is bestowed upon him. That is, except the obnoxiously loud crinkle of a chip bag popping open next to Bakugou that cleaves into the scene like a record scratch. As if unable to read the mood in his own room, Kaminari fishes a chip to throw in his mouth, stirring the awkward silence into tension.

“Wow, Bakugou. I know you’re bad with girls and all, but you really messed up this time,” he remarks. His voice is slightly muffled as he munches his chips, continuing to wrinkle the bag for more. It incites a vein to swell on Bakugou’s forehead. He amasses all the willpower within him not to blast the bag of chips to ash, and the boy alongside it.

“If you dunce faces are just gonna sit here and throw salt in my wound then I’m outta here.”

“No, wait!” Kirishima catches Bakugou’s wrist before he fully lifts himself off the floor. “Come on, Bakugou, I’m sure we can think of something! We just need to put our heads together! Right, guys?” he assures. Finding it hard to deny his friend’s hardened conviction, Bakugou gives Kirishima the benefit of the doubt, albeit with slumped shoulders and a tentative raise of his brow as he slowly sits back down.

“Right! Everyone, let’s get some brainstorming done!” Mina yells encouragingly.

The atmosphere of Kaminari’s room is consumed by moderately thoughtful silence for the next ensuing minutes. A few hums pass, followed by an exchange of contemplative looks as four of the five rack their heads together to uncover a solution. The one in need of help only hunches in his seat, waiting with mild disinterest.

“Oh hey, don’t we have hero training with All Might tomorrow?” Sero is the first to comment, scooting to the edge of the blond’s bed.

“Yeah. So?”

“He said we were going to work on group exercises this time around. You know, teamwork and stuff,” he explains further.

At that, Mina snaps her fingers, the work of a brilliant idea flickering in her head. “Sero, that’s it! Tomorrow, during training, we’ll just form a group together with Y/n! After all, she’ll have to talk to Bakugou if you two are on the same team!” She claps her hands in front of her, her enthusiasm rippling through her body and shown energetically with each raise of her voice. “Then, while the rest of us ‘split up’ to cover more ground, that will be your chance to make everything better with Y/n! It’s genius!”

“You missed one fucking crucial detail, Pinky,” Bakugou gruffs. “That will only work if Y/n doesn’t join another group. The moment she sees I’m on yours, she’s not even going to hesitate making a u-turn.”

“Worry not~ I’ll just text all the girls except Y/n about the plan later and ask them to help sort everyone out!” She solves the problem with relative ease—quick as a click of her phone lighting up and finger sliding open to her messages.

“Uh, another thing though.” Kirishima raises his hand to spare his concern. “All Might says we’ll be splitting into groups of five at most, but there’s already five of us here.”

There’s a brief moment of deadpanning until Mina speaks casually. “Oh, that’s right. Kaminari. Take one for the team and make sure to join another group, ‘kay?” She settles without batting a lash.

Kaminari almost chokes on a mouthful of chips. “H-Huh?! What?! Why me?!!” he sputters.

“Because you’ve been eating chips this entire time and haven’t contributed to anything.”

“Hey, I offered the room, didn’t I?!” He tries justifying but is inevitably rejected by Mina’s wagging finger.

“Ah-ah, no complaints! Besides, it’s only one day of training. If we want this dilemma between Bakugou and Y/n fixed then we all have to play our part, got it?” Mina finalizes with a firm point of her finger nearly grazing the tip of the blond’s nose as he leans back to avoid it, eyebrows scrunched in discontent at the role he’s been reduced to.

“Alllllright!” Kirishima springs from his seat with outstretched arms and tightened fists. “Operation: Get Y/n to Forgive Explosion Boy is underway!”

“Dude, that’s a terrible name!” Sero laughs but rises from the bed to join the redhead’s cheer alongside Mina, the group already in high spirits.

Despite rolling his eyes at their swell of confidence, Bakugou does not object to the state of things. As crazy as it sounds, one could almost decipher the cusp of a grin pulling the seams of his lips as a possible sign he’s actually all for this extravagant little plan. Quite a first for Bakugou, but then again, there’s not much else he can do in this situation except rely on his pack of chumps.

Meanwhile, Kaminari grumbles something beneath the salty grit between his teeth.

“Alright, can you all get out of my room now?”

.

.

The scowl etched on your face carries a strong air of disdain that dampens the mood around your teammates considerably. Well, no one should be surprised. With Bakugou standing across from you, staring into the void of your expression, it’s to be expected that you wouldn’t be happy with this outcome.

No, “unhappy” doesn’t quite do your circumstance justice. You are beyond livid.

You feel your eyebrow twitch as you try quivering your lips to form a tinge of a smile. Unfortunately, all that quickly falls apart when you suddenly recall the disaster of last week, triggered by an accidental glance at Bakugou’s mug.

Trying to simmer down, you release a mental sigh amidst the turmoil boiling inside you.

Okay, maybe you’re over-exaggerating. Maybe you’re still just a bit too bitter for your own good and letting your emotions get to you. But in a class of twenty or some students, how did you end up in a group with the one person you were actively trying to avoid?

The moment All Might gave everyone the go-ahead to form their teams for today’s training exercise, you swiftly made a beeline toward two particular star students. Midoriya and Todoroki.

It was simple really. Your experiences throughout the school year told you Bakugou planned on staying away from his rivals when it came to teamwork, regardless of whether you’re there or not. He’s a competitive ass whose goal is to beat anyone he deems a threat in his climb to be the number one hero. It’s only logical you partner with people he adamantly dislikes to evade him.

Yet it seems fate has other plans for you today. By the time you found yourself pacing over to the two students you had in mind, they’d already gone and picked their own group members, forming teams before you could even ask.

Your nose wrinkles like you’ve taken a whiff of something rancid. Or, to be more specific, something fishy. Hooking an arm around Mina’s elbow, you drag the pink-haired girl off to a corner somewhere while tilting your head back at the three other boys.

“Ex. Cuse. Us.” Your words sound as stiff as cardboard. It comes out in practically a hiss when your eyes cross Bakugou. Once you’re positive you’re out of earshot, you whip your head at Mina.

“Mina, what the hell? When you dragged me over here to form a group with you you didn’t tell me he’d be there,” you groan. Childish and petty as you may sound, you just couldn’t fathom the idea of confronting the boy so soon.

Mina holds her hands out, ready to rationalize the whole ordeal. “C’mon Y/n, this is actually an advantage for us! With us four plus you on our team, we’re sure to knock the rest of the other guys out during training today! I mean we showed pretty good teamwork together at the sports festival, didn’t we?”

Steadying your gaze, you hold a finger below your chin as you slowly buy into the explanation. The reasoning is there. It’s hard to argue against a case like that, fully aware that being on the same team as explosion boy will easily snag good results for you and your party. ‘Cause as much of an arrogant jerk as he is, you have to admit Bakugou Katsuki knows his way around hero action like the back of his grenade gauntlets.

“Besides it’s not like you could avoid him for the entire school year. I mean, you two are in the same class. It was only a matter of time before you had to—”

“I know, Mina,” you interject, not wanting the rest of her sentence about the inevitable fall to your ear. “I just… Agh, you know what I mean!” You ruffle your hands through your hair in confliction, unsure how to piece your thoughts together.

Tilting your head over Mina’s shoulder, you sneak a glimpse at Bakugou, watching him as he’s cast to the side with the others. He’s fending himself from Kirishima and Sero’s combined jokes, that usual look on his face sending glares at the two and yelling something you could almost pick up on if you honed your ears a bit more. Surprisingly, when his eyes meet yours for a split second, he stands there looking nonchalant again. Both of you immediately avert your gazes.

Mina pats your shoulder, bringing you back to the conversation at hand. “I know, I know, but after this, I’m sure you can go back to ignoring his ass. After all, it’s just one training exercise, right?” she says. As her words deliver some relief to your ill-timed situation, you give in with a sigh.

Unbeknownst to you, turning your back to Mina and striding toward the rest of your teammates again, you miss the small glint in her yellow eyes, along with the subtle gestures she aims at the three boys, waving her pointed thumbs over your head secretively.

“So I take it you’re on the team with us, Y/n?” Sero asks when the two of you return. You nod in reply and the boy flashes his pearly whites in a wide grin that Kirishima mirrors. He nudges Bakugou at his sides which you subtly catch in the far corner of your eye.

You raise a brow suspiciously at their fidgeting, wondering why having you on their team warrants such enthusiasm, but you’re thankful for their energy at least. Someone has to lift the atmosphere for this not to be a complete drag and Bakugou surely isn’t going to be the mood maker of the group.

The blond scoffs. “Yeah, well, if you dumbasses are going to form a team with me, you’ll follow under my leadership, got it?”

The three readily agree. Though you roll your eyes, you don’t challenge his position, considering no one else is that much up to the task as he is. You’ll simply have to deal with the fact that you’re forced to tread through the day under his leadership. So with no objections, the five of you walk back to the class, gathering around the entrance of today’s battlefield.

Jumping into the activity, All Might goes about explaining today’s lesson to the four sets of teams—consisting of a group exercise to heighten teamwork. The name of the game? Capture the flag.

In short, each team will be split off into different sections of the labyrinth where their assigned flag is stationed. The objective is to not only protect your flag from being stolen but also try and steal an opposing team’s flag from their base and escort it safely to your home field. Nice and simple.

Not long after All Might’s explanation, the gate to the training grounds opens and you all scatter off into your teams, navigating through the twists of the maze to locate your flags. Once your group situated themselves onto your home base, you assemble in a huddle to devise a strategy before the game starts.

“So what’s the plan?” Kirishima asks, eyes darting around his teammates until they rest on Bakugou—the team leader. The ash-blond crosses his arms, a confident sneer plastered on his face as he’s already thought of his plan of action the moment All Might announced the mission.

“Easy. I’m going straight to the front-lines to swipe one of those dumbasses’ flags. You lot are gonna stay here and guard ours until I come back.” He delivers the strategy in a matter-of-fact tone that you quickly don’t take a liking to. Your fist curls in irritation.

“What kind of a plan is that?” you question audaciously, your voice louder than you intended. “So you’re just going to do all the work while we sit around and wait for you?”

Bakugou grits his teeth, leaning further into the huddle to direct his senseless logic. “Look, it’s the fastest and most surefire way to snag our victory without sacrificing anyone,” he says. Playing over his words again, he finds it surprising he even chooses to offer his reasoning. Because if it were anyone other than you he was arguing with, he’s certain he’d leave it at that.

Knowing the current tension between you was a result of his misjudgment, it feels only right for Bakugou to make an effort in communication. He ignores the antsy expressions belonging to the others who signal from behind you to follow along with their original plan.

You don’t seem to catch the hint, nor do you buy into his ridiculous strategy. “Oh, so you’re that confident you won’t get taken out by the other team then?” you quip. As a result, Bakugou’s brows tighten at your noncompliance.

“I know how to take care of myself. You of all people should realize by now that no other nerd in this whole damn class can outmatch me.”

“And what about an ambush? How do you know they simply won’t anticipate your strategy and see you coming?” You fire another counterargument and the boy purses his lips, beginning to find this quarrel spiraling into a headache rather than a step in the direction of reconciliation.

While Sero and Kirishima stand there, shifting their heads back and forth throughout the fiery exchange, Mina speedily reacts. The gears of that cunning mind of hers click into place again.

“You know what, Y/n’s right. Why don’t you two go together then?” she proposes boldly. Her suggestion catches you by complete surprise. You veer in her direction with an incredulous look blown in your eyes.

Before you can open your mouth to protest, the two boys standing beside her immediately back her up.

“Hm, Mina has a point. The chances of you falling into a trap wouldn’t be much if you two work together,” Sero remarks.

Kirishima follows, “Yeah, you guys can watch each other’s backs while going to collect the flag! It’s safer to go in a pair than by yourselves I’d say.”

The three seem adamant about the idea, sharing equally content expressions, and with all that said, you find it hard to dig yourself out of this situation. In a way, you practically volunteered yourself after questioning Bakugou’s plan and doubting his abilities. The group only feels it’s right you come along as his support since you clearly must be worried about his well-being.

Pushing your objections down your throat, you reluctantly agree to tag along with the blond. What you find exceptionally shocking is how Bakugou doesn’t oppose these new conditions. Given his hard-headed temperament, you thought he would’ve scoffed and turned his back at being paired without notice, but no such things were happening here.

...Odd.

“Tch, whatever. Let’s get going then,” is all he gives, starting in the direction into the urban area of the training course.

You trail behind him. “Coming, Boom-Boy…” you mutter the last bit but don’t suppress the urge to let your words be known. Bakugou turns his head and gives you a look akin to an uptight six-year-old you just offended at your local playground. You shrug in response, a corner of your lip pinched upward. He doesn’t pick a fight over the nickname, but his eyebrows remain fiercely slanted, and coupled with his heavy steps and the excessive swinging of his gauntlet-clad arms, it tells you of his emotional constipation plain as day.

.

.

The journey toward the other teams’ flags is cloaked in strained silence and the physical gap between you two does not encourage any of you to speak up. At this point, both of your levels of annoyance for each other have mellowed out. Now it just feels... awkward—strange. You don’t see his expression, nor does he see yours. It feels like you’re being left in the dark, having only the back of Bakugou’s head to stare at the entirety of the way, and though you supposedly have his back, Bakugou feels precarious in this state as he trudges along at the front, not daring to turn his head to cross your eyes.

The ambiance is reminiscent of the ancient Greek legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. Where Bakugou walks through the depths of the underworld, seeking you out in hopes you’d join his side once again. If he turns around now and spills his thoughts to you too soon, he fears that your forgiveness would be whisked away, thoroughly beyond his reach, and replaced with your promises of retribution.

That was the eloquent version of the situation anyway. To put it bluntly, Bakugou was just impatient as hell to say something to you. The silence suffocates him to the point where the words are nearly about to be squeezed out of his throat, but he bites his lip to snuff out the urges.

The more he keeps them in, the more fidgety he becomes, hands itchy and mouth trembling with grit between his teeth. The idea of not letting his voice be heard was something Bakugou detested. Mainly because it was already such a challenge to even keep his mouth shut, given his fiery attitude and lack of patience.

Man, what the hell am I hesitating for? he asks himself, that outspoken side of him spurring him on.

Ah, screw the uncertainty, he thinks. If he doesn’t say anything now, then he won’t get to say anything ever.

Bakugou stops in his tracks, turning his head. Here goes nothing,

“Hey, Y/n, I–”

“Katsuki–”

Words collide into each other, jumbled and incoherent, which take you two by surprise as you meet each other’s furrowed gazes. It’s quiet as you both piece your way through this, eyes trained like you haven’t seen each other in months when the reality is that a week of bitterness has somehow made you act like strangers. The bewildered look crossing his features is foreign to you; you’ve never quite seen Bakugou as taken aback as he is now.

“You first,” you grant before Bakugou could mix up your words again. Even being given permission, the blond still isn’t sure what to say, his thoughts lost on him the moment his voice clashed with yours. He takes a deep breath, calming his senses and steadying his mind for what he wants to convey.

“Look, Y/n, I don’t know how to put this as nicely as I can,” he begins, tone consistent yet wary, assessing your expression, “but I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there all by yourself. I shouldn’t… have blown you off like that and forgotten about you.” He delivers this bluntly—honestly—as open as a boy of his nature can muster with arms spread out, willingly exposing him to his faults and your reprisals.

Looking at you, he finds your eyes are cast to the floor, assuming to be reflecting on his words carefully. After some deliberation, you come across the vermillion in his eyes.

“Frankly, I haven’t entirely forgiven you just yet. But I will say that despite how I’ve been acting, I’m not as mad at you as you think,” is what you give, and Bakugou would be lying to himself if he didn’t achieve relief at your statement. He mentally releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding throughout the exchange. However, you aren’t done yet.

“I just want you to understand what moments like those mean to me. It’s during that time where I can share my feelings and learn more about you—understand who you are,” you say. Bakugou latches onto every word. “And it goes both ways, you know. It’s hard to want to stay in a relationship with someone who doesn’t make an effort to make time for you.” It’s obvious you aim that comment at him as Bakugou’s eyes soften slightly hearing it. His calloused, glove-clad hands wrap into his palms. Man, he really was a jerk.

“Still… I know you’re making an effort to be sincere and that you’re genuinely sorry for what happened, especially considering how the others seem to have set this whole conversation up, right?” Bakugou winces over the Bakusquad’s ploy coming to light and makes a note not to follow along next time unless those dummies can scrape up a more elaborate plan.

Despite that, he presses on, “So, what does this mean?” A smile settles on the curve of your lips, sensing his impatience as his voice hastens you along.

“Well…” you begin, speech drawn out in anticipation as you step toward him to where Bakugou follows your movements. That is until he catches a few shadowy figures shifting around atop the small building behind you. Before you can open your mouth to continue, his instincts flare to life.

“Hey, look out!” he exclaims, already acting on his warnings by lunging forward to push you out of the way. Your breaths draw back into your lungs, your body thrust abruptly into the opposite direction. Landing on your butt, you wince at both the shock and the pain, but your whines desist when you witness Bakugou taking a force to the head as a result of coming to your aid.

“Katsuki!” you yell, immediately getting off the ground to rush to his side, but he can’t find it in himself to respond. Afflicted with a substantial blow to the crown of his head, his whole being throbs and his vision spins.

Fuck, is Y/n, okay? is the first thing on his mind, ignoring the liquid trickling down his forehead. His question is answered upon turning his head to meet your anxious expression—your eyes wide and lips quivering as they move to say words he can’t exactly make out beneath the pounding sensations consuming his mind. As he feels a set of arms wrap around him, he tries discerning his surroundings to form a reply, but can only capture bits and pieces.

“—tsuki! ...old… n!”

“...god—! I’m so dead!”

A sputter of words tangling together is the last he hears before his vision fades to black.

.

.

The next time Bakugou awakes, his eyes slowly sever open to come face-to-face with a blurry white ceiling. The lights assault his vision as his senses take time to adjust, unraveling the environment to realize he’s laying on a bed—a hospital bed to be precise.

He attempts lifting himself but is met with retaliation in the form of his pulsating head which he immediately flinches at. His hand goes to rub his scalp to soothe the ache and he finds bandages wrapped tightly around him. “What the hell happened?” The last he remembers is traversing the urban area with you for the capture the flag mission before finally confronting the subject that had been plaguing your minds for a week now. After that, he caught sight of some object descending toward you and before he had even realized it, his feet had moved on their own. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up in the nurse’s office with a headache from hell.

Wait, what about you? Were you okay? Surely, he had to have pushed you out of the way in time, right?

His head moves quicker than it should’ve, revealing the other hospital bed in the room to be unoccupied, vacant. He sighs and his relief is further bolstered by the door to the nurse’s room opening to unveil you unharmed with only your heavy look of concern troubling him.

“Katsuki, oh thank god, you’re okay!” you say, quickly pacing over to his side with a glass of water in hand. You leave it at his bedside, sitting before him. Gauging your appearance up and down, Bakugou tries making out even the smallest details.

“You aren’t hurt?”

You’re appalled he would ask this despite clearly being the one patched up in a hospital bed right now, and likely sporting some serious head trauma.

“Of course I am, you’re the one that lunged forward to protect me,” you tell him. Bakugou looks down at his lap, figuring that was what happened, but hearing it from you comforted him more than he thought. However, his comfort is wretched from him by the intense pressure persisting in his skull. Seeing him in pain, you urge him to lay down and rest.

“How the hell did I end up here anyway?”

You fidget with your fingers, hesitating on answering. At that, the blond lifts a brow, suspicious.

“Mineta… accidentally dropped a rock on your head.”

“...You gotta be joking, right?”

Bakugou leers hard, finding the reason he was out of commission to be a damn pebble hitting his head a detriment to his pride. And because of Mineta of all fucking people. Still, if he hadn’t acted as quickly as he did, you would’ve been the one to meet his fate instead, and he weighed this outcome to better than the former.

Then you explain how the teachers had temporarily intervened to bring his unconscious body to the nurse’s, where the old lady went about tending to his injury. Said she did her job and all he needed was to rest and let her quirk take fuller effect within that time.

“So did we win the game?” He switches the topic to today’s mission of capture the flag that was cut short on his end.

You shake your head, but at least grant him the benefit of knowing Mineta’s team ended up placing last. At that, his eyelids shut and he crosses his arms behind his bandaged head. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t my intention to win anyway.”

You give him a look. “...Liar.”

Bakugou cracks an eye open at you. “Hah? What do you mean I’m a fucking liar?”

“I know you, Katsuki. I dated you, after all. And the Katsuki that I dated is an arrogant, competitive jerk who thinks of being the best above all else.” Bakugou scrunches his nose, wondering what you’re implying through your... overly frank descriptions. “Still… he’s sweet and caring at times… and reliable when he needs to be,” you continue, tone softening that draws Bakugou in, “And the kind of guy I want to give a second chance to.”

Absorbing your words, Bakugou blinks. “S-Seriously?” He doesn’t mean to stutter, but the offer catches him off-guard. He replays what you just said. That’s what he heard, right? A second chance?

You giggle at how uncharacteristically astonished he sounds. “Yes, seriously.”

“Does that mean you forgive me for what happened last week?”

You hum between pursed lips in playful contemplation. “Well, maybe you can redeem yourself by going on another date with me then?”

Hearing your proposal, a wide grin arcs his lips, edging into a smirk.

“That’s it? Well, I can definitely fucking do that,” he states, confidence rejuvenating his body at the new, hopeful chance before him.

“Oh, just one more thing though,” you suddenly add.

“What?”

“We are not going to that Chinese Restaurant again.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha imagine #mha imagine #bakugou fic #bakugo fic #bnha fic

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨1

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Yay, mob Clark. And I know what you’re saying right now, enough with Clark Kent! I get it haha. Promise, for a while, this will be the last I do of him. I have Lee fic in the work right now, the early development of medieval Peter, and I’m still sitting on some Loki ft. an exchange student... and then all my other series of course!

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You stood against the wall, chewing your lip as you looked around the gallery. You should be ecstatic, you should be floating around on a cloud, but all you could feel was crushing anxiety. It was truly a dream come true; your art hanging on the wall. Only three pieces, but it was there, and your name was below it in print.

You tugged on the waist of your dress and teetered in your heels. It was a borrowed outfit, you couldn’t afford anything appropriate to the upscale venue. The classic starving artist, or almost. You slipped your phone from your purse and up your sleeve. You subtly checked the time and for the little chat icon in the corner. Still no message.

Marcus was almost an hour late. He texted just after the event opened to warn you he was caught up with work but you worried he wouldn’t show up at all. It wasn’t his fault his boss was a jackass but you weren’t prepared to face this alone. You dropped your phone back into your slender purse and snapped it shut.

Vanessa, the gallery owner, made you flinch as she appeared almost out of the air. You smiled at her shyly and stopped chewing your lip.

“You should mingle,” she said, “you have an interested buyer. You might have a few more if you come out from the corner.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so nervous,” you confessed, “I-- thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“You earned it,” she touched your arm daintily, “all those hard hours working the back room, I couldn’t not hang a few pieces.”

You fixed your posture and tried to seem as confident as her. Your income came solely from hours of at-home data entry as you volunteered at the gallery in your few hours between. It was all worth it and maybe if you sold something tonight, Vanessa would feature you work again and you wouldn’t need to spend the bulk of your days staring at tiny font.

“So, where’s this buyer?” you asked hopefully.

“That’s my girl,” Vanessa trilled, “he seems very interested.”

She led you across the room, stopping to greet other artists and old friends with a kiss on the cheek and deep laughter. You’d met them all before as you were often working at these events. It was your first time as one of them.

When at last you neared your little stretch of the wall, a man stood with his head slightly back as he stared at your proto-renaissance portraits. He was tall and his broad shoulders strained the rich fabric of his jacket. His dark hair was neatly parted and a slight curl marked the front above the shadow of scruff poking out along his jawline.

“Mr. Kent,” Vanessa chimed, “I found her.”

He turned to look at you and his deep blue eyes struck you. He smiled between you and the gallery owner, his chiseled jaw even more defined by the gesture.

“This is Mr. Kent,” she introduced you in turn, “I believe he was interested in the larger piece.”

“All three, if you don’t have another buyer lined up,” he intoned, “I think they belong together.”

“All of them?” you raised your brows, “well, I, yeah, I guess--”

“We can put something together for you,” Vanessa interrupted your awkward stuttering, “let me just mark them.”

She took the silver pen she kept on a chain around her wrist and scribbled in the corner of the tags to mark them as sold. You were slightly numb at your disbelief. You were a bit reluctant to part with your work but the check would ease your grief.

“The way you use colours,” he said as he faced the paintings again, “I’ve recently had some work done in my house and I hate the sight of naked walls.”

“Thank you,” you said as you stepped a little closer and looked at your delicate strokes.

“Pardon me,” Vanessa rushed away as she beckoned to one of her assistants and prattled orders.

“Vanessa tells me you’re a new artist,” he said.

“New in a sense,” you said, “I guess, I’m officially an artist now.”

“Oh? I’m flattered. Your first buyer?”

“Besides some online fanart, yeah,” you replied, “so, Mr. Kent, what do you do?”

“Clark,” he corrected, “and a little bit of everything.”

An awkward silence took over and was thankfully interrupted by your name. You turned as Marcus rushed over and his shoes slipped on the polished floor. He reached you and kissed your cheek as he caught his breath.

“I’m so sorry, I got caught in traffic on the way over and then my oil light started flashing,” he gasped out.

“Hey, you’re here,” you rubbed his shoulder and straightened his tie without thinking as it hung at an angle.

“So, you sell anything yet?” he asked.

“Yes, actually, um, Mr-- Clark,” you gestured to the man standing patiently to the side, “he just bought all three.”

“Damn,” Marcus said, “guess I can hold onto my savings.”

“Marc,” you nudged his arm with your knuckles, “you know we can’t afford your cheesiness.”

“Sorry, uh,” Marcus laughed at himself, “I’m Marcus.”

He held out his hand and Clark shook it. His eyes strayed to you as his features sharpened just a little.

“You two…?” he ventured.

“Five years,” Marcus announced, “guess we’re going steady.”

“Oh,” Clark nodded placidly, “are you an artist too?”

“God no, I can hardly write my own name legibly,” Marcus kidded, “I’m a developer.”

“Computers,” Clark mused.

“Yeah, computers,” Marcus scoffed, “and you?”

“Own a couple businesses,” Clark shrugged.

“Must be successful if you can hang around here,” Marcus said and you elbowed him in embarrassment.

“I guess,” Clark smoothed his dark purple jacket and checked his watch, “I’ll let you two be. Maybe I’ll find something to go with these fine pieces.”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, “I’m happy to see my work go to a good home.”

“I hope to see more in future,” he returned kindly.

He turned and carried on to the statue constructed of can tabs and greeted another suited man. You looked at Marcus as he leaned in to read the tags beneath your paintings. He stood and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Holy shit, ten grand?” he hissed.

“Pretty good pay for one night,” you chirped, “glad you could make it.”

“Sorry again, I… I had to redo some code. Adam was in a mood so,” he shook his head and sighed, “let’s not talk about it. Let’s celebrate.” He peeked over at the server with a tray of stemmed flutes, “and you can decide what you’re going to buy me with that check.”

“Hush,” you chided as you took a glass of champagne, “now is not the time to go over bills.”

🎨

At the end of the night, you watched one of the assistants take down your canvas and you helped wrap them in paper and twine. As you finished a loopy knot, you were surprised by the figure beside you. You looked up and set the smallest piece atop the larger ones. Clark smiled as you moved to let him pick them up.

“All yours,” you said, almost mournful to see them go.

“Thanks,” he said as he tucked them easily under his thick arm, “I forgot earlier but do you have a card? Are you open for commissions?”

“You must have a lot of walls,” you looked down and opened your purse, “I have a card and I could try a commission.”

You slid out one of the cards that had lingered in your wallet for more than a year. You handed it to him and he read the flowery font before tucking it away in his jacket.

“I do… have a lot of walls,” he said with a smirk, “I’ll give you a call once these are hung.”

“O-okay,” you kept from wringing your hands and closed your purse, “thank you… again.”

“My pleasure,” assured, “have a good night.”

“Yeah, good night,” you said and watched him go.

You let out a breath and smiled to yourself. You would talk to Vanessa and get your cut of the check before you went. Then you could worry about getting Marcus home. He’d had a little too much champagne and you’d left him in the backroom so you could help with the clean-up.

Vanessa bid goodbye to one of her featured artists as you neared. She turned to you and threw up her hands in delight.

“Wonderful, darling,” she said, “you earned that wall.”

“Thanks,” you grinned bashfully.

“Really. That man has never bought a piece before,” she smirked, “I’ve been dying to get into his wallet for years.”

“I never saw him before…”

“Oh, well, yes, he has not been to many of these either. I often see him at other galleries,” she explained, “I hope you have some more for the next.”

“Um, yeah, I should be able to--”

“I’ll have the check for you tomorrow,” she patted your shoulder as her eye was caught by another, “go get your boyfriend out of my studio.”

You accepted your dismissal and turned on your heel. That was just Vanessa, steely but slightly flighty as well. Besides, you were exhausted and you would likely be dragging Marcus into a cab.

You found him slumped at the paint-splattered table. You shook him awake and smiled dopily as he opened his eyes.

“Babe,” he pushed his arm around you.

“Marcus,” you drawled in disappointment, “let’s get out of here.”

“Huh?” He looked around and hiccupped, “oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You had a long day,” you assured him as you rubbed his back and let him lean on you as he stood, “I’m just happy you showed up after all that nonsense.”

“Of course, babe,” he slurred and you helped him through the door.

You kept your head down as you slowly sneaked out past Vanessa but you didn’t miss her side-eye. It was best to be as covert as possible. You came out through the door and nearly dropped Marcus.

“Jesus, can I get a little help?” you snipped as you looked around for a yellow cab.

“Sorry, baby, sorry,” he got his feet flat but it hardly helped take his weight off of you.

You raised your hand to hail a cab and he slipped down your arm. Your ankle bent as you turned to try to catch him before you dropped him entirely. He was saved from hitting the ground as he was caught by another. You looked over his head as he was pushed up to his feet again. 

Clark kept his arm behind Marcus as you stared at him, “oh my god, thank you.”

“No problem,” he said as he steadied your boyfriend, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied as you lifted your foot and kept the weight off your ankle, “I just need to get a taxi.” You raised your hand again as you tried to see past the large man, “if you don’t mind getting him in--”

“You can ride with me,” he said brusquely as he turned with Marcus and peered back at you, “this way.”

“We can’t--”

“On that ankle,” he said as you began to limp after him, “you won’t get him out on your own.”

“Really, I’m fine--”

“I don’t mind,” he said coolly as he came to a silver sports car and balanced Marcus against him as he opened the door, “I’ll need an address.”

“Uh, oh,” you folded your hands, “thank you. Really, you’ve done too much.”

“It happens. I’ve had these nights,” he put Marcus across the seat and folded his legs up and shut the door, “you can take the front and tell me where I’m going.”

You hesitated and he opened the front door. You neared and hissed as you stumbled on your ankle. You caught yourself on his arm and quickly retracted your hand as you apologized. 

“It’s alright,” he said as you sat in the front seat. He knelt and gently took your ankle. His thumb rubbed the swollen joint, “you really banged yourself up.”

“I’ll be okay,” you assured him, “thanks.”

He let go and stood. He waited for you to turn your legs into the car and gently closed the door. He rounded to the other side and got in as he fished around for his keys. He turned the engine and gripped the wheel with one hand as he took out his phone. He placed it on the magnetic holder and his fingers flicked over the screen.

“Address?” he asked.

You recited it and winced as Siri responded, ‘calculating route’. You shrunk against the luxury leather and glanced at him. He let out a huff and steered into the mostly empty street.

“I’m sorry about all this--”

“No, don’t be,” he glanced in the rearview, “he must be happy for you.”

“Yeah, uh, I think he is,” you said as he followed the map directions, “I am too. I mean, it will go along way… uh, well, you know, things can be tough or--” you shrugged, “I mean, it’s not about the money.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice to be paid,” he said lightly, “and I don’t mind paying for good art.”

You looked out the window as your cheeks burned. You could smell his cologne, subtle but strong. You played with your purse as your nerves brewed in your chest. You watched the sidewalks and the street lights as your surroundings grew more familiar.

He pulled up to your building. It wasn’t the greatest area and the brick façade was faded and cracked. Before you could get out, he was at your door. He offered his hand and helped you out as you leaned on the car. He let you go and opened the back and lifted Marcus out. He hooked your boyfriend’s arm over his shoulder and offered his other arm.

“Come on,” he said.

“Look, you don’t-- there’s an elevator.”

“I’d feel better if I got you inside,” he insisted, “especially in this area.”

You relented and took his arm and limped beside him up the steps. You took out your keys and went ahead of him as he dragged Marcus in. You went to the elevator and hit the button. The doors glided open and you stepped inside. He stood close in the small metal box and Marcus murmured dumbly at his side.

The doors dinged and he let you out first. He followed you down the hall and you unlocked your apartment and waved him inside. He carried Marcus to the couch at your direction and you leaned against the armchair as you bent your leg to check your ankle.

“You should put some ice on that,” Clark said as he neared, “get some sleep yourself.”

“Yeah, I will,” you assured, “thank you, again.”

You felt embarrassed as you eyed his expensive suit and looked around your tiny apartment. It must have been laughable to him. He hardly seem bothered as he retreated to the door.

“I’ll let you then,” he said, “and thank you. I really do like your work.”

The door shut in his stead and you heard his footsteps down the long hall until the door at the end swung open. You glanced at Marcus and shook your head. You weren’t as happy to have had him at the show then.

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #fic #series #mob au #mob!au #mob!clark kent #portrait of a dangerous man #dark fic #dark!fic #superman #au #dc #dcu

[aetherarf]

I NEED TO SAY YOU MADE ME A BRAIN ROT FOR SCARA SO MUCH I'M DROWNING SGSKSGDNGDJDDHJDJXDHDJDH When there's comfort, there's always angst-- I demand a Scaramouche x Reader //can be the chubby one too (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ where Scaramouche had a small argument them, then later the reader gets hurt someway another (you decide--) which made Scaramouche regretful for arguing with them then save them from whatever they're facing. Angst/Comfort HC/fic TYSM IN ADVANCE

Just going to say I'm going to go with my normal, as-vague-as-possible reader just because there's not much reason to fit in specifically talking about chubbiness since it's a more angst based prompt than Reader getting loved u know

[[ WARNING: ANGST, ASSAULT, DEATH [of unnamed characters] ]]

[[ Summary: Arguments happen, and sometimes they get nasty. After a few insults gone too far, you decide you need time to cool off. He couldn't have meant it, could he...? Oh, but who could resist taking advantage of such an opportunity?

Word Count: 1'376 ]]

"Scara, I'm leaving... I don't want to say something I can't take back."

"Don't come back then."

You knew he didn't mean it, always a sharp tongue and quick wit with him, any insult, to you at least, was just him puffing up and trying to look scary.

But that's why you were so upset. He was... distant, like he was afraid of you. To get close enough to him that he's call you darling or love was agony, but it was worth it. It was like sitting in the cold for hours at a time, setting a piece of fish out to the kitten who hid under the garbage, and then coming back the next day with another piece, putting it just a little bit closer to you. And then a little closer. And a little closer.

Until, eventually, it would eat from your hand. Then eventually you could pet it. And eventually it would curl in your lap.

And while you had him curling in your lap, he would still hiss, afraid and unsure, despite everything.

You didn't have to lure him out anymore, so you needed to find another way to help him, to make him show love, not through thinly veiled insults.

He seemed hesitant--which was expected, there was a reason he was this way, even if he didn't talk about it and vehemently insisted there wasn't anything wrong, there wasn't anything he was hiding. Other than what he said while sleeping, and what he told you, you knew nothing about him. He was reserved and skilled at keeping his past hidden.

But you couldn't bandage a wound if he does not expose it to you.

In the cold night, you walked alone. You had been, for a few hours now, just to avoid talking with him, you needed to think. Eventually, you found it got dark, and you were far from home. You wondered how late it actually was, with how the bitter cold nipped at your skin and how you could nearly see the stars in the sky from the all encompassing dark.

He's going to get upset over this, you thought, exhausted. Maybe you were assuming the worst?

You might as well make your way back home, you wouldn't mind getting a hotel room just for the night, but you didn't bring enough money for that, you didn't think you'd end up this far, anyway.

Walking, you watched your feet, only lifting your head to read the signs to guide you back... and eventually, you found you had gone in a circle.

How? You thought you went in a straight line... but... maybe you really were just too out of it. Spotting a person leaning beside a building, you opted to walk over, asking directions to a place you could navigate back home from.

However, they stared at you... oddly, for a moment. "You look familiar." They said, taking a long drag of their cigarette, all but blowing the smoke into your face rudely, making you cough and try to dust it away.

"Well, uh, I'm sorry but you don't look familiar at all." You replied, all stiffness and worry. "If you don't know where that is, you can just say so."

The person stood up properly, no longer leaning.

"You're one of those... Fatui. The Balladeer's little toy, right?" They asked, and you took a step backwards, but you then bumped into something solid, and seeing a tall, solid man staring down at you with the eyes of a corpse. You nearly screamed, scrambling away desperately, landing on the ground and turning to be on your back, looking around desperately for a way out, but it wasn't that simple--it was like the wolves circling around a wounded deer.

"The Boss would pay a pretty price to have you under his thumb."

You shook your head, tears in your eyes--no matter your strength, weak or powerful, you couldn't overwhelm this many people like this. You doubted you could even scramble away and run.

"Please," you sobbed, not knowing what you were asking for, "Please, don't."

They closed in, slowly...

And, briefly, you were blinded by a flash of white and purple--and deafened by screams of agony.

As the ringing stopped, and everything slowly came back, you saw Scaramouche--he stood there, back facing you, and as he turned back to look at you, blood covered his face, his arms... his clothes. You pushed yourself up to your knees, Scaramouche going down onto one knee, not looking at you--

"I'm sorry," he said, voice low and soft, "Did they hurt you?"

You hesitated, "N-No, no. I only fell in panic." You admitted, looking around--But he grabbed your jaw, making him look at you,

"Don't look at them, I don't want you to see what I did."

You had an idea, if the blood on him was any indication, but you just nodded, holding his wrist so his hand wouldn't leave your face so soon, it moved to cupping your jaw lovingly.

"We should go before someone sees," Scaramouche said plainly. While he wouldn't get in trouble, and as soon as an investigation went underway, they'd drop it as soon as they even had a thought it could have been the Balladeer...

But if you two stayed at the mess, the scene of the crime, that was harder to deal with.

He held you close as you walked, in complete silence. You were tired, the cold sapped all the energy from your body, and while you were on the adrenaline high... you ended up just exhausting yourself instead of doing something with it. Not that you could, but...

The two of you walked inside, and you could smell...

"You made my favourite?" You asked, softly... Scaramouche sighed.

"I did, but it's cold now. I'll reheat it and make it properly tomorrow," He said, though he didn't let you out of his grasp, gently helping you sit at the table, while he was near, working on it.

"That's... sweet. But... That won't fix everything, you know."

The gentle click of silverware, "I know," he said, softly, "But I knew it made you happy." And I like seeing you happy. "Then you didn't come home." And I got scared, so i went out to find you.

There was a moment of silence, and he set down your food in front of you, he just sat down next to you, his hand on your leg... just wanting to make sure you were there.

"We need to talk about this."

"I know... But I don't know how... to."

He was still afraid, like a kitten with his ears folded back, but he was not hissing or snapping... a moment of vulnerability while he waited for an answer.

"I want you to say what you feel," You said, poking at your food, "Don't insult me and assume I know what you meant. Tell me you love me, tell me you got upset or angry. I don't like this guessing game."

He nodded.

"I... Cannot promise it will... be perfect, but I will try." He explained, and you nodded.

"All you can do is try." You reassured, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "And maybe go get clean, I don't want you going to bed with blood on you."

He reached up and touched his cheek, half-dried blood on his face.

"Right," but he didn't leave yet... as though he just didn't want to.

You rested your hand on top of yours, and he closed his eyes...

"Scara, were you..." You could see how tired he looked, and the faint stains on his cheeks--so slight you could only see them in the bright room, when he was near motionless, "... Crying?"

He opened his eyes... and sighed.

"I don't like it when we fight."

"Well, we don't have to fight. We can just talk about it, okay?"

"... Okay."

"Now go get clean, I want to finish eating and go to bed. I'll see you then?"

"If you're not in bed I'm going to commit another atrocity," he said, joking, a small smile on his face. You lightly pushed on his shoulder, and he groaned dramatically, before finally getting up.

Things would be, gradually, getting better now.

#genshin impact #scaramouche #genshin x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #angst #angsty bark #hurt and comfort #bark writes #// summary sounded way r@pier than i intended #// weird wording u get it #// i meant he like had enemies and #// ppl wanted to fucc with him #// somehow i felt like i fucked this one up