#oh and happy spring for you peeps down under! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

no1frogfan · 1 year

Text

Akaashi finds out you’re sick

Akaashi Keiji x GN reader Word count: ~1k

Notes: Tooth-aching domestic sap. It gives me LIFE!! Happy bday Akaash <3 sorry you have to babysit your sick partner today

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

“Your voice sounds a little hoarse.”

“Really?” You shrug. “I had a lot of meetings today and probably didn’t drink enough water.”

A frown tugs at Akaashi’s lips as he puts the kettle on. He cuts up a lemon and squeezes it into a mug before dropping the wedge to the bottom and spooning some honey in. He tops it all off with boiling water and holds it out. “Here. I think you’re getting sick.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s nothing, Keiji. You worry too much.”

“Please? For me?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll drink it,” you grumble, giving him a kiss on the cheek as thanks.

The next morning, you wake up with a fever. Your throat is parched and painful, shirt sticking to your back and neck. You angrily roll over onto the other side of the bed, cool now that Keiji has gotten up. It doesn’t really help.

The bedroom door opens and he walks in carrying a tray. You petulantly roll away back to the far side of the bed. “I don’t want to hear it!”

“Hear what?”

“I told you so…”

“Well that’s good because I wasn’t going to say I told you so.” His lips twitch ever so slightly.

“You just said it!” You pout as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

“Did I? Oops,” he chuckles. The cups and bowls clink as the tray is set down in front of you. You grace him with a smile before tucking in. He always remembers exactly what you crave when you’re sick - something warm and filling and a little bland to keep the nausea at bay. A contented sigh leaves your lips as you wash it all down with a mug of tea. Akaashi gently rubs your leg as you rest your back against the headboard.

“Oh no!” You shoot up, almost spilling the rest of your tea. “What about work? You’re late!” Guilt washes over you. You’d been too busy stuffing your face to realize what day it was.

“Relax.” Akaashi says with a squeeze of your thigh. “I told them I’m working from home today so I can take care of you.”

Maybe it’s a good thing you have a fever you think, shrinking down into the duvet. Otherwise, you would have to explain the pleased blush that warms your cheeks when Akaashi tucks you in.

“Get some rest and text me if you need me. I’ll be in the other room.” He places your tea and phone on the nightstand next to you, taking the tray with him back to the kitchen.

Akaashi sits down at his desk after washing the dishes. 8:46 am. Luckily, no urgent meetings are on the schedule for today, so he's able to work from home with no pushback from his bosses. Although, feeling how feverish you were this morning, he would have stayed at home no matter what they said. He settles himself before opening his laptop and diving back into his project.

As he pens some feedback on the latest chapter (pacing feels rushed here - maybe incorporate more reflection to draw out tension), he becomes dimly aware of noises coming from the bedroom. Another round of coughs finally breaks his concentration. 10:23 am. How long had you been coughing? He immediately springs up from his chair.

You give him a weary smile as he walks in with cough medicine and another mug of tea. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. Can’t sleep.”

“Shh.” He strides over to the bed. “Don’t talk, you’ll make it worse.”

You wiggle under the covers again after downing the tea and medicine. He’s got work to do, but you want to ask him, but you know it’s selfish. The battle raging in your head must have been playing out on your face because Akaashi abruptly asks, “Baby, do you want me to stay with you?”

“No,” you peep. It’s futile to lie to him but you try anyways. You always try, even though Keiji has always been able to read you like a book.

“Uh huh. Let me go grab my laptop.” He’s back in a flash, laying down next to you and perching the laptop on his abdomen. You rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. The only indications that Keiji is awake and working are the occasional strokes of your hair and tip-taps of the keyboard.

You pull him in close, but sleep eludes you. It’s been 15 minutes, if the clock in the corner of his laptop is right. “Still can’t sleep,” you murmur dejectedly.

Keiji purses his lips. “Want me to read to you?”

Your whole face lights up. “Maybe you can read me the manga you’re editing. That way it’s like working at the same time?”

“Good idea.” He gives you a peck as he adjusts the laptop screen. A sense of tranquility embraces you as soon as he utters the first syllable. What he’s reading is immaterial. The warm timbre of his voice, the gentle rumble of his chest against your cheek, and the steadfast rise and fall of his breaths are more soothing than any medicine. You’re out like a light in no time. He continues for a while after he feels your breathing settle into a slow and steady rhythm.

Some time later, you wake up, your hand accidentally slapping him in the face as you reach up to rub your eyes. “Babe? How long have I been sleeping?”

He hums and kisses you on the forehead. “Three hours.”

You suddenly realize you’re still laying on him. “Oh my god, your arm must be completely asleep by now!”

You quickly roll away so he can free it. A grimace pulls at his lips as pins and needles shoot up and down his left side. He clenches and unclenches his fist to help the feeling return to his hand more quickly.

“Sorry Keiji,” you mumble guiltily. “You don’t have to watch over me the entire time, you know.”

He shakes his head and locks eyes with you. “Yes I do,” he says firmly, devotion written all over his face.

#akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #froggy scribbles

185 notes · View notes

kiirokero · 3 years

Text

Outro: Love is Not Over (Epilogue)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Um, Hoseok cries but they’re happy tears, like very brief mentions of kids without parents.

Word Count: 4.3k

Note: Oh no.. Writing this made me sad :( It’s really over? (I don’t know why I’m asking that... I’m the author...)

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / The End ❁

Masterlist

I’m not a morning person.

Never have been.

I used to dread the signs of a new day. I used to go to bed and groan at the thought of the sun peering through my curtains and calling me back to the real world. I’d curse the morning birds and their repetitive song and roll my eyes at the overly cheerful morning news host, who obviously sported a fake smile every time she was on air.

The only reason I used to wake up was for Yunho.

When my alarm went off, my first thoughts were getting Yunho ready for the new day, so he didn’t have to hate it like I did. I’d wake him up, help him choose his outfit for the day, make his breakfast while he got dressed, and send him off to school. With a genuine smile. Even if I wasn’t a morning person, I’d be one for him.

But things are different now.

The sun peeked its soft, pale yellow rays through the sheer ivory curtains that covered the windows of our bedroom. The sun’s warmth laid over my face like the hand of a mother trying to rouse its child from sleep. I was familiar with the motion. Several birds sung their morning tune, perched up on bare branches as they serenaded the woods like they have been since the first time they peeped. It was winter, meaning the birds have migrated to warmer places, although Busan’s climate didn’t make it feel like such. Yes, it was cold, but it was no winter wonderland.

Despite the slight chill outside and the slightly cloudy skies, everything felt pleasantly warm. Like the house was on its own schedule, changing seasons whenever it deemed necessary. It felt like the perfect April spring day under the white sheets of our bed, wrapped in a pair of gentle, slightly tanned arms. My body cradled in the embrace of my shirtless lover.

“Ma! Hobi! Wake up!” A giggle voice called, followed by the patter of running feet. Hoseok and I grumbled, playfully ignoring the hybrid and snuggling deeper into the covers. We heard Yunho scoff as we held back our giggles, waiting for him to do what he always did. He indulged our silent expectations. Yunho jumped up on the bed, shaking the mattress and us as he hopped up and down, laughing.

I relented and peeked my eyes open. My heart softened when I saw Yunho’s smile (Which was missing a couple of teeth) “Well, good morning to you too,” I chuckled, moving to sit up. “No...” a gruff voice from beside me grumbled. Hoseok tightened his arms around my figure, trying to persuade me back down in bed so he could snuggle me more.

I smiled, petting his bed head as compensation for my utterly rude movement. He grumbled again, opting to just snuggle into my side. “Hobi!! Wake up!” Yunho whined, bounding over to the older hybrid, jumping on top of him and grabbing his face with his hands, which were comically smaller. Hoseok let out a little “oomph” sound before he let Yunho move his head around and poke at his cheeks.

Hoseok’s eyes were still closed, but the heart-shaped smile that graced his face gave off waves of happiness. “Okay, champ, I’m awake,” He chuckled, peeking his honey eyes open to look at Yunho. The ten-year-old cheered in victory, scrambling off Hoseok to sit in my lap. “Do you know what day it is?” He grinned, his missing front teeth on full display.

I hummed playfully, tapping my finger against my chin as Hoseok watched us with a smile from where he was laying next to me. “Hmm, well, today is a big day, am I right?” I teased. Yunho nodded vehemently. “A very big day,” Hoseok commented. “Could it be... Your big day?” I asked. Yunho giggled. “Yes!” He exclaimed, wrapping me in a hug and nuzzling his face in the crook of my neck. I wrapped my unoccupied arm around him, giving him a kiss on the top of his head.

“Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll make your favorite breakfast?” I offered. Yunho pulled back and looked at me with stars in his eyes before chirping out an “okay!” before he squeezed me one last time, bent down and gave Hoseok a hug, and scurried out of the room. The two of us watched him go with warm, melted hearts. “He gets cuter as the years go by,” I sighed. “Wait until he’s a teenager,” Hoseok poked. I looked down at his teasing smile with a pout. “Don’t say that!” I whined, doing my best to wiggle out of his grasp.

Hoseok didn’t let go, he just held me tighter while he cackled at my attempts. “You’re mean,” I chuckled, pushing his face away from my side. Hoseok playfully nipped at my hands with his sharp canines, fighting them off like his life depended on it. All with a smile on his face. “But you love me,” He gushed, nuzzling his face into my stomach once he won the fight against my hands.

I rolled my eyes, giving him one last scratch behind the ear before I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Hoseok whined, but let me go. “Come on, you menace. Put a shirt on and help me with breakfast.” I said, throwing on one of his sweatshirts and making my way downstairs. I heard him dramatically groan.

I made my way to the kitchen and got out the ingredients for blueberry pancakes, Yunho’s favorite. Today was January 14, Yunho’s 10th birthday. He’s been eagerly waiting for this day since December, constantly dropping hints of what he wanted and what he’d like to do. So for today, Hoseok and I planned to take him out to a new amusement park with Hyejin, Yoongi, and Hajun (a different from the one we frequented), go out for dinner, and come back home for ice cream. (and presents of course)

“Hobi!!” I heard Yunho call from upstairs and the aforementioned man responded with a “Yes?” before I heard his footsteps trail through the upstairs hallway. When Yunho was about 7, he started calling Hoseok “Hobi” instead of “Mr. Hoseok” once he realized that Hoseok was sticking around for a bit. I think it was because Yunho fully accepted him into his life, but Hoseok argues that “Mr. Hoseok” was just too much of a mouthful.

“Eomma... Where’s Hobi?” Yunho mumbled one morning while I fiddled with the coffee machine. I looked down at him with a quirked brow. “Hobi?” I asked, and he nodded. “Yeah, Mr. Hoseok. Where is he? Did he leave?” He pouted. I gave him a reassuring smile as I picked him up and sat him down on the counter.

“Hobi went out to get some breakfast, don’t worry, he’ll be back,” I said, petting his head. Yunho leaned into the touch, looking up at me with his puppy eyes. “Promise? Promise he’ll come back?” He asked, sticking out one of his pinkies. I chuckled, grabbing his pinky with my own. “I promise. Hobi wouldn’t leave us, bub,”

Right on cue, the front door opened. Yunho’s ears stood at attention, and he quickly jumped off the counter. He ran over the Hoseok who had a box of donuts in his hands and latched onto his leg, nuzzling his face into the material of his jeans. “Hey, champ. Are you okay?” He asked, moving the box over to one hand and resting his newly unoccupied one on Yunho’s head. “Don’t leave like that!” He whined. Hoseok frowned, bending down so he could look at Yunho properly.

“I just went out to get donuts, bub,” He explained, opening the box in front of him. “I got your favorite,” He smiled, motioning for Yunho to take one. Yunho complied, picking up a regular glazed donut and taking a bite out of it. “Did Hoseok scare you because he wasn’t here when you woke up?” I asked, leaning against the wall. Yunho nodded with a slumped head.

Hoseok looked at me with sad eyes before he turned his attention back to Yunho. “I’m sorry, I’ll tell you next time, okay? And if I’m ever not here when you wake up, know that I’ll always come back.” He smiled. Yunho looked up at him. “Do you promise, Hobi?” He asked. I could tell the new name caught Hoseok off guard, but he shook it off, holding out his pinky for Yunho. “I promise.”

And he’s been calling him that for three years now.

Suddenly, Hoseok came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his head on top of mine while I mixed the pancake batter. “What was up?” I asked. “His adult canines are sore again, so I gave him some medicine,” He explained. I sighed, “Hopefully they’ll settle soon, and correctly.” Hoseok moved his head to rest over my shoulder and reached over to pop a blueberry in his mouth before saying, “It’ll be okay. I remember when mine started growing in, I cried until they settled. He’s already stronger than me,” He chuckled, giving me a kiss on the cheek before he pulled away.

Not long after, Yunho came running down the stairs, bouncing over to where Hoseok was leaning against the counter and plastering himself to his leg. Hoseok smiled down at him and ruffled his hair. “How are you feeling?” He asked. Yunho shrugged, “Okay,” He answered. “Do you think you’ll be able to eat?” I asked before actually cooking any of the pancakes. “Mhm! I can eat,” He reassured. I chuckled, “Roger that,” Hoseok and Yunho both gave me a kiss before they moved into the living room to watch cartoons.

I never thought I’d be a morning person, but damn, waking up next to Hoseok really changed that.

Since that day at Geumjeongsan, Hoseok and I took things slow and steady. Nothing changed at first. Hoseok would come by for ice cream nights like he always did, but then he’d stay after I put Yunho to bed. Then he took me on dates. Then he’d stay over for a couple of days. Then I asked him to move in with me. And now here we are, about 4 years later, with a new Jung Hoseok added to Yunho and I’s little family.

My bed never felt cold anymore, nights weren’t lonely or silent, and I looked forward to the morning. The mornings where I could peak my eyes open and see Hoseok’s sleeping face right in front of me, his hair all tousled. The mornings where I could wake up and hear his laughter mixed in with Yunho’s downstairs. The mornings when I was roused from sleep with a gentle, “Wake up, baby,” or “Honey~ wakey wakey~”

I’ve never been a morning person.

But Hoseok and Yunho made me one.

The joyous screams of amusement park visitors echoed through the chilly air. The grind of rollercoasters tracks and other thrill rides hummed in a familiar rhythm. The smell of popcorn and cotton candy wafted past our noses as we entered the gates of the amusement park, keeping an eye out for a certain cat family.

“If it isn’t my favorite sister! Ready for some amusement park fun?”

“Hyejin, you’re an only child. You basically adopted me in college to fill the little sister role. And yes, of course.”

Hyejin cackled as she ran up and wrapped me in a hug, while Hoseok excitedly greeted Yoongi, his best friend, with a hug of his own. Yoongi grumbled, but I could tell liked it by the way his noir tail swished back and forth. Yunho ran over to give them a hug as well, a blinding smile plastered on his face.

Hyejin pulled away and greeted him enthusiastically, picking him up and spinning him around. Yunho squealed in delight, their giggles intermixed with each other. Once Hyejin let him down, Yunho gave her a proper hug before bouncing over to Yoongi to give him one, too. “Oh god, you're getting big,” Yoongi commented, sounding exactly like an old man. “You’re going to be taller than your mother when you 're an adult,” He snickered, and I whacked his shoulder in defense. He let out an “ow” but continued to laugh.

“You know, that means he’d be taller than you too, Yoon,” Hoseok said, and Yoongi immediately cut off his chuckles to give the taller hybrid a shoulder whack of his own. I watched the interaction with a satisfied grin before I felt a tug on my shirt. I looked down to see Hajun looking up at me, silently asking for a hug. “Well, isn’t it my favorite nephew,” I said, kneeling down to wrap Hajun in my arms. He wrapped his arms around me in return, quietly nuzzling his face in my chest.

After we all exchanged our greetings and went over the rules with the kids, Hyejin clapped her hands together with a smile. “Alright! Let the adventure begin!” She exclaimed. Hajun and Yunho cheered with her as we started walking through the park. Yunho grabbed onto Hoseok’s hand while Hajun took Yoongi’s and the two of them pulled the grown men every which way. Hyejin and I lagged a bit behind, lost in our own conversation.

We walked through the food stands and carnival games, collecting drinks and a couple stuffed animals that Yunho and Hajun guilt tripped Hoseok and Yoongi into winning for them. “Look Hobi! It looks like the dragon from my show!” Yunho grinned, pointing up the red dragon plushie that was one of the prizes for winning the “Throw the ball and knock down the bottles” game.

Hoseok looked at what he was pointing at and nodded in agreement. “Do you want it?” He asked and Yunho quickly nodded his head yes. “Now, now, I think you’ve won enough for right now,” I said. Yunho pouted, about to whine out a “But Ma...” before Hoseok beat him to it. “It’s fine, baby, just one more? Then we’ll stop,”

I sighed, relenting pretty quickly under Hoseok’s persuasive smile. He and Yunho cheered, going over to give the stall employee his money. The employee gave Hoseok three balls and pointed at the stack he’d be aiming at. Hoseok gave one of the balls to Yunho and asked him to take a shot at it. Yunho stuck his tongue out in concentration and threw the ball. It completely missed, but Hoseok was quick to turn his pout into a smile when he threw one of the other balls, successfully knocking down some of the bottles.

Now, a man throwing a worn out baseball should not be attractive. But it was. It was attractive. I knew Hoseok went to the gym whenever he could with his friend Jeongguk, and it obviously paid off. He was fit, and his flexing biceps only proved that fact further.

Hoseok threw the second ball and knocked down the rest of the bottles, winning the dragon for Yunho. Hoseok handed the toy to Yunho, but before Yunho took it completely, he rubbed it all over Hoseok, getting his scent on the toy. Hoseok let him with a smile on his face. Once he deemed it scented enough, he hugged it to his chest and grabbed Hoseok’s land, running back to where I was standing.

“Look Ma!” He said, proudly showing the stuffed toy to me. “Wow!” I gasped in that typical “impressed mother” way before I shot Hoseok a grateful smile. “What do we say?” I asked. Yunho turned around and hugged Hoseok’s leg, “Thank you, Hobi,” He said in a singsong voice. Hoseok chuckled. “You’re welcome,”

We continued on our journey through the park, occasionally stopping to get on rides like the teacups and the merry-go-round. I made sure to take plenty of pictures of Yunho’s bright face and Hoseok’s heart-shaped smile. (And occasional face of fear when the rides suddenly sped up)

“Ma! Can we go on that one?” Yunho asked, pointing at one of the rollercoasters. It was quite tame, nothing crazy, just fast paced and a couple of small drops. I looked at it, feeling my stomach go a bit queasy. I was never the best with rollercoasters. “Go with Seok and see if you reach the height limit,” I said. Yunho grabbed Hoseok’s hand and shook with excitement as he led him to where the height limit board was set up. Hajun also pulled Yoongi over.

Hyejin giggled. “They look absolutely adorable, don’t they?” She asked. “Who? Yoongi and Hajun? Yes, Yoongi and mini Yoongi are the cutest,” I chuckled, but Hyejin shook her head. “No, silly, Hoseok and Yunho,” she clarified, and I let out an ‘ohhh’ before I nodded my head in agreement. “Yes, they are also the cutest.” I smiled, watching as Yunho bounced up and down in excitement when Hoseok told him he reached the limit. The two of them looked over at me and I shot them a thumbs up, waving them off as they got in the queue.

“I’m proud of you, ya know,” Hyejin spoke up, turning to look at me. “Why’s that?” I asked. Hyejin playfully rolled her eyes because to her it was so obvious what she was alluding to. “The little family you’ve made with Hoseok,” She said, “You changed so much, and for the better. You’re literally glowing every day and so is Yunho. You don’t have that doubt anymore, and that feeling isn’t rubbing off on him anymore.”

“Really? I mean, I definitely feel better, but I didn’t know I was looking like it too.”

“I’m just happy to see you so happy.”

I smiled, looking back at where Hoseok, Yunho, Yoongi, and Hajun were standing. The four of them in their own little world as they talked about whatever. Probably music, which was what the boy’s new obsession was about. “My boys make me happy,” I said with a shrug.

“Have you ever thought about marriage?” Hyejin blurted out.

I choked on the water I was sipping, coughing it up as it made its way down the wrong pipe. Hyejin gently pat my back, like a gentle form of the Heimlich manoeuvre however the Heimlich wouldn’t help in this situation since water wasn’t a solid. “W-What?” I stuttered out, looking at Hyejin with wide eyes.

Hyejin took the fact that I wasn’t dying as an invitation to start laughing. I swatted at her with a pout. “Don’t laugh! You caught me off guard!” I whined, and Hyejin laughed harder. After she had calmed down, she took a deep breath and cleared her throat before looking at me again. “Have you ever thought of marriage? Like, marrying Hoseok?” She asked for the second time, but this time I didn’t choke. (Luckily)

“Um... No? I haven’t, isn’t thinking about this a bit too soon?” I argued. But Hyejin shook her head. “You’ve been together for like, 4 years. I don’t think it’s early at all,” She said, crossing her arms. “You’re saying you haven’t thought about it at all? Like never?” She questioned, and I shook my head. “Not at all. I just, live in the moment and appreciate the fact that Hoseok is with me in the first place,” I gushed.

“Do you want to though?” She rose a playful brow, nudging me softly. I spluttered, “I um. I don’t know...? Yes...? Marriage is expensive, though. The venue, the dress, the food-” I listed, but Hyejin quickly cut me off with a finger to my lips. “Gosh don’t think about that, think about if Hoseok were to get down on one knee and pull out a ring right now, would you say yes?” She asked. I chuckled, “Hyejin that’s-” “Nope! Answer the question!” She chirped.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah... Yes, I’m sure I would,” I answered truthfully, feeling my ears heat up in embarrassment. Hyejin squealed, bouncing up and shaking me out of excitement. “Ah! So cute, I can’t wait for the wedding,” She gushed, wrapping her arms around me so I’d bounce up and down with her. “Hyejin! Stooopp” I whined, feeling the stares of passersby.

Hyejin pulled away once the excited cheers of rollercoaster-high Yunho and Hajun came bounding over to us. They cheerfully told us all about how Hoseok screamed and Yoongi closed his eyes the whole time. Hoseok walked over to me with a pout, clearly embarrassed about his lack of courage. He wrapped his arms around me and whined about how awful the rollercoaster was. But I could only blush as I thought about what Hyejin had talked to me about.

“Happy birthday, dear Yunho, happy birthday to you!”

“Is the cake good?” I asked Yunho who had a forkful of ice cream cake in his mouth. He nodded with a smile, his face scrunching up cutely. I chuckled, petting Yunho on the head before I started to clean up the mess we had made, which was mostly wrapping paper mess from Yunho’s gift unwrapping extravaganza.

As Hyejin and I went to put the dishes in the sink and throw the trash away, she spoke up with a pout. “We’ll have to get going... All three of us have things to do in the morning,” She sighed. “Why do you sound so guilty?” I chuckled, patting her on the back in reassurance. “Because it’s so early! And I wanna hang out with you longer,” He whined. “Hyejin, you see me like all the time. It’ll be okay. Why don’t we meet up for coffee on Wednesday?” I offered.

Hyejin immediately cheered up, enthusiastically agreeing to the plans and wrapping me in a hug. “I love you,” She said. “I love you too,” I responded. Yoongi came back in from where he and Hoseok had disappeared out back, keys in his hands as he looked over at Hyejin. “Ready?” He asked, and Hyejin nodded.

Yoongi told Hajun to say his goodbyes, which he did, albeit reluctantly, as Hyejin and Yoongi said their own. “Take care,” Yoongi whispered to me, and he gave me a shoulder hug. “You say that like you 're going away for a long time,” I said. Yoongi just shrugged, “I’m not, but still, take care.” I smiled at him. “Will do and I love you too,” Yoongi looked away with a blush, running off to hide behind Hyejin.

“Bye!” We all waved as we watched them go from the front door. The Min family reciprocated with their own set of waves and chorus of “Bye”s. Having guests leave after a party aways feels so odd. I never realized just how quiet the house was at night.

“Okay! Time for bed,” Yunho chirped, padding over towards the stairs. Hoseok and I raised our brow, looking back and forth between each other and Yunho with wide eyes. That was abrupt... “You don’t want to stay up? This is the only day I let you,” I said, utterly confused. Yunho turned around and shook his head no. “Nope!” He said, popping the ‘p’ “I have school tomorrow,” He said.

“Alright, since when do you want to be ready for school?” Hoseok chuckled, tilting his head at the younger hybrid. “Tomorrow is Appa day, where we’re supposed to bring our Appa to school with us,” Yunho smiled, like what he was saying was nonchalant. I cringed. I never really like the concept of “Eomma days” or “Appa days” because, like Yunho, not everyone had an Appa or Eomma. It just seemed harmful, in a way.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay home tomorrow?” I asked, but Yunho vehemently shook his head no. “Then Hobi and I would miss Appa day!” He whined. Now if Yunho surprised us with his enthusiasm for school, he rendered Hoseok and I... Well, speechless.

Hoseok coughed, taking a minute to process the meaning of Yunho’s words. “Is that okay...?” Yunho cautioned after seeing Hoseok’s reaction. “Yes! Yes. It’s perfectly okay. We can, um, we can get donuts for breakfast, yeah?” He sputtered out. Yunho’s face lit up. “Okay! I’m going to go take a shower,” He proclaimed before he ran up the stairs towards the bathroom.

Silence.

There was nothing in the air but silence between Hoseok and I.

Until Hoseok’s soft sniffles reached my ears.

I made my way over to Hoseok and cupped his teary face in my hands. “Hey... Why are you crying?” I asked with a worried look. Hoseok didn’t answer at first, and I gave him the space to calm down and gather himself. “He-He wants me for Appa day, so does that mean...?” He sniffled, looking at me with pleading eyes that silently asked me if this was real and not a dream. I nodded. “I think it does,”

Hoseok cried even harder, burying his face into the crook of my neck and wrapping his arms around me, holding me tight. “He sees me like that?” He cried. I didn’t realize just how seriously Hoseok took his role as a father figure, and I guess the conformation from Yunho that he was, in fact, his father figure made him feel like he had won the World Cup. “He does. You deserve that honor, Hoseok,”

“I just... I don’t... Appa”

“Shh, take a deep breath, okay?”

I let him cry in my neck until he pulled away by himself, leaving me with a saturated collar and sleeve. Hoseok looked at the wet spot and chuckled. “Sorry,” He croaked out, but I shook my head and took one of his hands in my. “No need to apologize, it’s just a shirt. Let’s get ready for bed, okay? You have a big day tomorrow.” I smiled.

Yunho was my light.

And now he has a father could be things that I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Just Yunho, Hoseok, and I

“What’s stopping you, Seok?”

“I’m just nervous, Yoon. What if she says no?”

“Why would she say no?”

“I don’t... Know...”

“Exactly, so just take her somewhere nice and ask. That’s how I asked Hyejin,”

“You make it sound so easy... But alright... I’ll do it.”

Tag List: @kurochan3 @mrcleanheichou @anonymous-armys-blog @bella-raina @purelyecstacy @lindsayjoy444 @unicornbabylover @xicanacorpse @creatorspalace @thesweetest-peas @fangirl125reader

Another Note: I have drabble plans for the OLINO universe that I might write and post. They won’t be out for a while but I might write them.

#bts #bts fic #bts fanfic #hoseok #jung hoseok #jhope #bts jhope #hobi #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts jhope x reader #bts hybrid au

177 notes · View notes

keeroo92 · 3 years

Text

Flights of Fancy

My NSFW contribution to @jackpot-dantezine, where Dante and Reader discover they share a hobby. Enjoy!

Word count: 1,679

------

Dante hummed and adjusted the focus, bringing his latest quarry into view. Brown feathers, a pointed beak, the last remnants of the avian’s breakfast still hanging from its beak. A robin, male, maybe a year old or so judging by the plumage. Gorgeous, though common.

It had been a productive morning; he’d catalogued a young pair of goldfinches and a plump great tit already. The spring always brought more activity, but this year was truly a treat. Now, if he could just spot that evasive starling...

“The heck are you doing?”

He dropped his precious binoculars and whirled to face you. Shit, how was he gonna explain this? The last time he told someone he watched birds, they’d laughed him right out of the room.

“Uhh…”

You kicked off your shoes and came closer. His palms were sweating. Shit, shit, shit. You weren’t supposed to come over until six. Why the hell were you so early?

“Spying on the neighbors? Anything good?”

Dante swallowed, his mind frozen. That sounded like a trick question…

“Uhh…”

Your hands wrapped around his binoculars and raised them up, fiddling with the dial to focus them. All he could do was watch as you peered across the divide and into the next building.

“Oh, wow! Is that the lady with the border collie? Hard to tell from this angle…”

Fuck, this can’t be happening!

He was so screwed. Either he confessed to his ridiculous hobby, or he surrendered and let his partner think he was a voyeur. Talk about getting stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“You know, if you’re into watching, all you had to do was ask,” you said with a coy smile, lowering the binoculars to meet his panicked gaze. What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

“Wh- what?” he stammered.

You stepped back and ran your hands lazily across your chest. “I’d be happy to give you a show.”

Still trying to assemble a coherent sentence, Dante didn’t resist when you pushed him down onto the cushion of the reading nook under the window he got the best views from. If this was going where he thought, he had no complaints, but it didn't sit well that your teasing came about from a misunderstanding.

You turned away from him and bent over, your ass swaying exaggeratedly. The first stirrings of heat came to life in Dante’s groin as your hands slid across your body, taunting him and toying with the edges of your clothing.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” he said. He’d be kicking himself if you stopped, but still.

You looked back over your shoulder and winked at him.. “I know.”

Dante’s mouth went dry as you slowly faced him, your hands drifting to take off your top. Each button you released revealed a few more inches of your body, the slowness of it close to torture. He licked his lips and tried to relax, but his mind refused. This wasn’t right.

“Wait, just… hang on a sec.”

“Why? Do you not like it?” you replied with a slight frown.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I love it, babe. I just… I gotta tell you something.”

You bit your lip and shifted your weight. “That doesn’t sound good…”

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, searching for words. This really shouldn’t be so hard, it wasn’t like he was trying to dump you.

“I wasn’t peeping. Voyeurism isn’t really my thing,” he began. “At least, not when the person doesn’t know they’re being watched. What you were doing, that was hot.”

You rolled your eyes and took a seat beside him. “You just haaaad to say something...”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“Do you have any idea how often you've left out your bird book? Pretty dead giveaway.”

Dante groaned and shook his head. Of all the stupid-

“Did I ever tell you about the time I spotted a Hawfinch?”

The red-clad man’s thoughts screeched to a halt. Those little fuckers were some of the rarest birds in the region. Just to hear their call was basically winning the lottery. Nobody who didn’t take part in his hobby was likely to even know they existed, which meant…

He stared at you in disbelief. “Wait, you too?”

You shot him a smile. “Yeah, though not much recently. I lost my binoculars when I moved here.”

Dante’s heart flipped. No, it soared - just like his beloved birds. Joy and warmth formed the air current lifting it, suffusing his chest until he could barely breathe.

How could you possibly be so wonderful?

“I’ll get you a new pair,” he said, “So we can do it together.”

You hummed. “Sounds great. But you know, there’s something else I was hoping we could do together today.”

Your weight shifted as you faced him, body language and the lingering flush in your cheeks enough to drive home the hint - that dance was meant to rile him up. Never one to deny the chance to tease you, Dante wrapped his arms around you with a smirk. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” was your husky reply, lids lowered and breath catching.

He leaned closer. “Like what?”

“Like this,” you replied, pressing your body against the twitching bulge in Dante’s pants. Gente fingers brushed aside his snowy locks and your lips descended, planting kisses up the column of his throat.

“Fuck, babe…” he growled. You hummed in response, dragging your hands across his broad chest.

The moment you came up for air, his lips crashed against yours, hungry and haphazard. He didn’t care when his teeth clacked against yours, or that your lunch lingered on your breath. It didn’t matter when his jaw complained or how his tongue strained to meet yours. It was all worth it.

The heat of your body, so close to his. The scent of your skin. The soft exhale of your breath. Your existence enveloped him and cast a spell on his senses, somehow too much and never enough at the same time. He’d never get tired of being with you, not ever.

His lips danced from your mouth to nip at your pulse, teeth and tongue toying with your flesh. Need overwhelmed him as you responded in kind, tearing at his shirt and belt until you found skin. Warm hands on his body, nails scratching each time he found the right spot to suckle; it wasn’t long before two sets of clothing lay discarded on the floor.

And then, his favorite part - when you took him inside you and welcomed him home. So deep, your body responding to his as if his touch kept you alive. Moans and gasps mixed with murmured curses, hips slamming together and spreading his need across your thighs and ass. He braced against the windowsill and thrust harder, stealing needy groans from your kiss-swollen lips.

“This what you were after? Huh?” he panted.

Your spine arced, body tightening around his length. “Shit, yes!”

Dante growled and flipped you over, his eyes fixated on beads of sweat rolling down your shoulders and spine. You buried your face in the upholstery, sharp cries leaking past the fabric each time he bottomed out. Lost in the throes of pleasure, he didn’t care that anyone who happened to gaze at the window had a full view of his passion.

He grunted and tugged your hips against him, grip gentle yet firm. He knew how you liked it, and giving you what you wanted came automatically to him after so long together. The look of euphoria on your face was gorgeous as your voice broke, your body clenching around him as your core spasmed. Dante reached around to tease at your front, elongating your bliss as he followed barely a beat behind.

“Fcuk, I’m - ah, shit!” he cried.

Energy surged from his body, searing a blazing path to his cock and into your body, thick ropes of his completion dancing against your innermost muscles. Dante’s vision flashed, his body arcing as if doing so got his seed any deeper. His hips stuttered, moving without any sense of rhythm or coherence until he came back to himself at last.

Panting breath spilled from his parted lips, beads of sweat cooling as they rolled down his brow and back. His body felt light and heavy at the same time.

“You good?” he asked.

But your attention was elsewhere, eyes locked on something far away. Dante pulled out with a quiet groan and peered through the window, looking for whatever stole your focus.

“What is it, babe?”

You didn’t blink. “Hand me the binoculars.”

The tenseness in your tone and the set of your shoulders allowed no argument, and Dante did as he was told, pausing only to grab his boxers. “Here.”

As you brought the lenses to your eyes, he set a dish towel beside you for whenever you were ready for it. Whatever you saw, you’d tell him eventually.

Then, a sudden gasp.

“I don’t believe it…”

Dante crossed his arms. “What?”

Still staring out the window, you adjusted the focus. “It’s a pied flycatcher.”

Now it was Dante’s turn to gasp. They were one of the ten rarest birds in the region, never seen within a hundred miles of here. What the hell was one doing here?

“Lemme see, come on!”

You still didn’t look away as you held out the binoculars to him. “It’s on one of the higher branches of the oak tree.”

He held his breath as he searched the branches, his well-trained eyes used to spotting feathers among foliage. There it was, its brown plumage granting it camouflage against the trunk. It was preening.

“Holy shit, I see it! I see it!”

You laughed and tugged him down to sit beside you. He settled in to watch the little bird for a while, his free hand reaching out to touch his beloved partner every few minutes. The two of them took turns with the binoculars, laughing and sharing the joy of their hobby for the first of many times.

#fanfic #my writing #dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dante x reader #spicy #fluff #one-shot

63 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 years

Note

A troupe of five chicks waddled up to Deuce, chirping and squeaking. Silver followed suit with his usual lopsided smile. "Happy birthday-" he began, but he was cut off by the quintet of chicks that were impatiently nudging a basket with an charmed map, a compass, and a canteen into the birthday boy's hands. "Sorry about that, they were getting rather skittish with giving you your gift. But I hope it comes to use to you, Deuce." The chicks cheeped at the bluenette as well, saying happy birthday.

Deuce cast a worried glance at the chicks, who had huddled back together in Silver’s hands after delivering his gift. The little yellow fuzzballs seemed to practically vibrate with... fear? Anticipation? Deuce couldn’t tell. “Er, but I’m not scary looking or anything, am I?”

“Don’t worry. They’re the excitable types.” Silver’s smile was sympathetic. “They’re nervous about whether you will like your presents or not.”

“Oh! Of course I like their presents!! Now next time Coach Vargas springs a surprise boot camp on us, I’ll be better prepared!”

“That’s a relief.”

One of the chicks nudged its head against Silver’s cheek. Peep, peep. The knight smiled serenely, scratching under its chin with an index finger.

Deuce stared.

Hard.

“... Would you like to hold them too?” Silver offered, taking note of the birthday boy’s intense gaze.

“Can I?!” Deuce cried out, eyes lighting up with glee.

“Sure, just be careful with them. Cup your hands together for me.”

Deuce obeyed, even straightening his posture and hold his head high—as if preparing to be bestowed with a medal of honor. Silver dipped his hands into Deuce’s, then parted, depositing the quintet of chicks in the first year’s palms.

Their tiny feet and fluffy downs greeted Deuce. Beady eyes and small beaks curious prodding at him.

He squealed, unable to fully contain his joy “You’re all so cute!! Ahhh, this is heaven!!”

Silver chuckled to himself. It looked like he would not be getting his chick companions back for quite some time—and he was quite alright with that.

#Deuce birthday takeover

77 notes · View notes

dreamingofrascal · 3 years

Text

Sakuta Azusagawa x Reader Headcannons

Author’s Note: HIIII, so I noticed the lack of Sakuta stuff ( And Bunny Girl Senpai stuff in general), and I decided to singlehandedly write the first Sakuta X reader. Ur welcome hehe. But if you do decide to read, thank you. and likes and reblogs are always appreciated! Mwah! PSSSt, I also write for other characters if you have a request!!!

literally can’t keep his hands off of you

he’s either holding your hand, interlocking pinkies, an arm around your shoulders, an arm around your hips

YOU ALREADY KNOW THAT THERE IS NON STOP HORNY JOKES

he pats his lap teasingly in public for you to “sit down”

Sakuta always know exactly what to say to get you all flustered

SKIRTS SKIRT SKIRTS, GOD HE LOVES YOU IN SKIRTS, LIKE AWOOGA AWOOGA

like you could be going up stairs and he’ll tease you, and ‘look up your skirt’, “Y/N, i like your panty color today. It suits you.”

Sakuta gets randomly mushy gushy out of the blue

“If you keep pouting like that, Sakuta, Your face will get stuck like that.” You teased.

His pouting bottom lip seem to spread into a soft smile. He went quiet for a few seconds as he stared at you, just taking in all your features, “You are the most beautiful girl i’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

His favorite thing about you is surprisingly not horny. he loves your laugh, the sound just gives him so much giddiness

SPONTANEOUS DATES LITERALLY, like out of the blue he’ll call you and be like “I’ll meet you at the cafe down the corner at 5?” and before you can ever respond, THIS BASTARD HANGS UP

Kaede LOVES LOVES LOVES YOU, although it took a while for her to warm up to you. it took a lot of one sided conversations on pandas, big brother, and showering her in gifts the best you could. And surprisingly, she seemed to adore the smaller and cheaper gifts. like you bought her a small windup toy, and it just melted your heart the way her eyes lit up.

stargazing dates. laying across a blanket next to each other, hands interlocked.

during stargazing dates is when you both have the best conversations

“Are you really gonna marry me?”

Sakuta would let out a small chuckle, “That’s an obvious question. I think you already know the answer, Y/N.”

You guys aren’t really into all those disgustingly cute nicknames because as Sakuta says “Why call you by a different name if the one you have is already pretty.”

he is on the more chill side, like he doesn’t get jealous over little stuff, but BOY OH BOY HE WILL PICK A FIGHT WHEN HE KNOWS THE OTHER DUDE DESERVES IT, LIKE HE KNOWS HOW TO TAKE A PUNCH AND KEEP SWINGING( because he’s a stubborn bastard) but he rarely wins using only brute force, he has that brain power y’know

he likes it when you nurse him, like when he’s sick or cuts himself, he said “Erotic nurse roleplays have always been a dream of mine.” which either results in blushing or eye rolls from you

when u are nursing him, he likes to fake more injuries, “Nurse Y/N, my face hurtssssss.” He would call out, “Cant you come kiss it better?”

Sakuta “Heart Eyes” Azusagawa

he literally admires you too much, like too often you’ll catch him looking at you

his favorite cuddling position is him laying down on his back, as you snuggle up into his side

his absolute favorite way of physical touch is kissing, he can’t get enough of your lips, LITERALLY NONSTOP KISSING

you could be minding your business cleaning, cooking, studying, HERES THIS BOY COMES LEANING OVER AND MWAH. it startles you sometimes

y’all can both do your own independent things yet still you both know that you have each other’s back always

literally the most supportive couple, like he’ll visit you at ur sports games, ur performances, he’ll admire your art, be proud of your grades, LIKE WAHTEVER, SAKUTA WILL BE THERE AND BE YOUR BIGGEST FAN. he’ll admire you and whisper under his breath “that’s my girlfriend.” in a starstruck tone.

you visit him a lot at work and he finds it absolutely adorable. It makes his long hours at work all worth it

Sakuta says you have a very sweet scent and Sakuta smells like mint for some reason

if you ever lay ur head onto his shoulder, HE WILL FIND IT SO CUTE because both literally and figuratively he is someone you can lean on y’know

his favorite date ideas are definitely ones where it’s just you two alone. like watching the city’s lights, at the beach together as the sunsets, a movie night alone (without kaede trying to sit in the middle of you two)

he likes it when u play with his hair, like running your fingers through it and twisting it in ur fingers. it makes him all sleepy

you see how hardworking and motivated Sakuta is in taking care of his sister, maintaining good grades, working at Benny’s, trying to keep his home tidy, and when you come over to help, it makes him realize that he finally has someone to help. someone there for him.

you’ve helped make him more open. he was so used to bottling up his emotions, but when you came into his life, he wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable around you

Sakuta was so used to having to be the one people relied on, but with you, he felt truly cared for. when things got too tough, his parents left. when the hospital incident happen, he became an outcast. Yet with you, you are there for him, like truly there. always there, and he wouldn’t change you for the world.

despite all of the female acquaintances Sakuta has, he reassures you that you’re the only one for him.

“Y/N L/N. I DECLARE MY LOVE FOR YOU BLOOMS BRIGHTER THAN A SWEET TULIP ON A SUNNY SPRING DAY! I COULD NEVER FALL IN LOVE DEEPER WITH ANYON-“ , Your hand slaps over his mouth in a flustered panic.

he definitely plays footsies with you under the dinner table

When you have a cold or flu, He thinks it’s the absolute worse since he can’t kiss because it’s contagious. he nurses you, cooks soup, wears an apron that says “kiss the cook”, and just is around. like he’ll stay by your bed until you’re sleeping. and he’ll admire your peaceful face before going home.

you tend to wake up before him and he’s such a HEAVY SLEEPER, but he’s caught you admiring him while he’s slept before

Sakuta’s eyes slowly peeped open, “Pervert. Watching me sleep, are you? Basking in my beauty, hm?”

he really likes winter because it gives him an extra excuse to hold you tight

your first kiss was accidental but it was SO CUTE, like you leaned in for a cheek kiss, and Sakuta “coincidentally” turn his face to the side. and to this day you still don’t know if Sakuta turned his face on purpose or accident

plesse pepper this boy’s face in kisses (especially when you haven’t seen each other in a while)

when you guys argue he’s usually one to give you the silent treatment, yet it does last long as he gives in and apologizes quickly

OKI NOW FOR THE SPICY STUFF MWAHAHAHA! look away,children

HAIR PULLING, PULL THIS BOY’S BROWN MESSY LOCKS

of course he likes erotic costumes duh.

would definitely make you strip infront of him

he compliments your body a lot, like he’ll pull back from making out just to mutter something against your lips about how hot you are

SIT ON HIS LAP, HE LOVES IT

hands will always be on your hips

he is more a boobs guy. he likes them especially when they’re all bouncy

Sakuta is surprisingly not that sloppy when making out, he likes to be take control and keep his hands around your hips, and pull you in close by them

pull out game: WEAK

his sex drive it so high, plesse help the man

overall this bastard loves you to death, through thick and thin, through fluffy and horny, he loves you. and you make him so happy

#rascal does not dream of a dreaming girl #rascal does not dream of bunny girl senpai #sakuta azusagawa #azusagawa sakuta #sakuta azusagawa x reader #sakuta

215 notes · View notes

uniquevocashark · 3 years

Text

Tea and Ice Lattes

Part 2

tw cussing and mentions of pain

...

Rosalyn relieves you of work immediately after the Countess leaves, and Maxwell spreads the salve on you before you can bloody your cheek.

“Hey,” he snaps his fingers in front of you and you jolt upright. “Hey, stay with us.”

You look around and find that the back room is trashed, the chairs thrown about and the table flipped over. Rosalyn has your arm trapped against the wall, your fingers twitching back and forth. You open your mouth to speak but your jaw aches so bad you snap it shut.

“Here.” Rosalyn murmurs, and spreads a bit more salve on your face. Your eyes water but the pain fades eventually. “You should go home until this heals.” She counsels, letting go of your arm slowly.

You rub your cheek and wince.

It takes longer to heal than you think it should.

The first three days you’re never far from an ice pack and you burn through three quarters of the salve before the pain cools. Rosalyn checks up on you those days, often with jars or bowls that someone left for you at the store of foods so soft you can suck them up a straw. After that, Maxwell takes her place, though he doesn’t stay long.

A week after your incident, he comes by with a large purple box, wrapped with a ribbon softer than anything you had in your house. The card stuck to it was equally as soft and shone like spun silver under the light.

“Hey,” You greeted him, “What the fuck is this?”

“Yeah.” He laughed uncomfortably, then handed the box over. It’s too large to fit under your arm, so you end up carrying it like a forklift with your arms out and palms up. You wonder how he even managed to carry it up the stairs, let alone fit it through the doorways.

Your name is written in large, loopy cursive on the letter, in letters too large to have been comfortable to write with a normal sized hand. “Do I need to worry about this?”

“Oh, nah,” He shrugged, “We did the cat test, and it turned out fine.”

“The cat test?”

“Yeah, the cat test.”

“Elaborate, please?”

“It’s an old superstition about the Dimitrescu’s. Nothing dangerous,” He assures you when you look at the box suspiciously, “We rubbed a couple cats on it.”

“You rubbed cats on the box?”

“Yeah. We held them up like Simba and rubbed them on the box.”

“Alright then,” You say, “Which one is it from?”

“I don’t know,” He paused, checking his watch, “hey, I gotta go. Adrian and I are going on a lunch date.”

“Oh, right. Have fun!”

“Yeah. See you later.”

…

By nightfall, after you’ve managed a dinner of chicken nuggets and creamed corn, you still haven’t opened the box. It’s very picturesque unopened, like those aesthetic photos you see sometimes. The letter, too, is very nice, with a proper wax seal to close it.

It smells distinctly like the Countess, which makes your face itch so badly you have to flee to the kitchen and get the salve to calm yourself down. You make yourself a coffee. It isn’t a good thing to do, especially so late at night, but you drain two cups before you can force yourself back into the lounge.

The letter isn’t anything special though, or particularly harmful. It’s a long three pages of an obvious copy paste offering all kinds of platitudes and condolences that don’t really have anything to do with you. The only thing of note is the handwritten note at the end, which differs from the mechanical writing of the letter with thick cursive in red ink.

To whom it may concern,

I hope this gift will convince my errant daughter that my apologies to you are sincere, and that I didn’t mean any truly debilitating harm to a lovely creature like yourself.

With my full regards,

Countess Dimitrescu

“Creepy.” You say to no one and through the letter back on the table.

You take the lid of the box and are met with a mountain of velvet. Beneath the lilac layers is a set of teacups and a finely filigreed book. The book is an 1898 version of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, which is a little on the nose, considering the Dimitrescu family history.

The teacups though are too large for you, more like a soup cup than anything, painted delicately on each of the sides are birds. One depicts a duck, another a hummingbird, and another a kingfisher. They’re a little impractical, especially since you don’t drink tea, but they are lovely.

Hidden in one of the teacups is a bundle of duck fluff and feathers and a small portrait of a very happy duck in a finely made suit.

…

You decide to treat the teacups like a white elephant, because they are no doubt expensive, and you want to have them sit around for a little bit before you use them. The book is even worse to look after, because you have no idea how to keep it pristine and end up keeping it along with the duck portrait in the box.

Thursday rolls through with a lazy breeze and light snow. It’s spring, and the icicles on your windows are a little smaller than they were yesterday. Maxwell comes by practically glowing, and he spends the walk to work gushing over his boyfriend. They went a town over to have lunch, where the place was built half in the woods and half out of it.

You’re barely into the rhythm of work before you’re swamped. It is nice to be able to do something again, that isn’t scratch your cheek and watching the same series for the fourth time, so despite the heavy work load you find yourself smiling.

Today must be a special day too, because Alcina walks in around one, wearing a perfect purple pantsuit and sleek black and red heels. She seems surprised to see you, and her smile is more genuine than she usually directs at other people.

“You’re better.” She says by way of greeting, leaning forward more so than usual as she stands at the counter.

“I am!” You smile, straightening your apron, “Your usual today?”

Her chest gives a little peep. You peek lower than you usually would and see a duckling in the fold of her jacket, its beak peeking between her fingers. Alcina clears her throat, her smile a little more sheepish, “That was a yes.”

Her duck peeps again and she remains by the counter, watching you make the drinks.

“Archibald,” You hear her admonish quietly, her voice thick and disappointed, “That is very naughty, young man.”

Archibald peeps quietly again, and it sounds cheeky. You glance over and see Archibald held to her eye level, her lips pursed, and eyes narrowed.

“Are you taking it to go?” You ask after a second, not sure if interrupting is rude or not.

“No,” She says calmly, at odds with the face she gives her duckling, “Here is fine.”

You look at her a second longer, the way her face isn’t drawn or tight. Alcina languidly strokes the top of Archibald’s head, and she seems calmer than the last time you say her.

She catches your eye, “Yes?”

“Oh, nothing.” You smile and she looks away.

…

“I wanted to ask a question.” Alcina says as she comes up to pay.

“Yes?” You reply.

“Would you accompany me to an event this weekend?”

You deposit the money into the till. You weren’t, precisely, busy. Being cooped up at home for the week with nothing to do meant that you had powered through your household chores. Archibald, as if he could sense you debating, waddled towards you on the counter and shook his little tail feathers. He was from a large breed, almost twice as large as your hand, and he nudged at your fingers until you pet him gently.

“If it’s on Saturday, then yes.” You say.

Her fingers shook for a second and her voice was smooth as cream as she whipped a pair of black glasses onto her face. “Excellent. I’ll pick you up at ten on Saturday?”

“From the store,” You say quickly.

Alcina scooped Archibald into her hands, “Yes! Yes, of course.”

You gave her the receipt. “I’ll see you Saturday then.”

“Yes, Saturday.”

She strode from the store more quickly than you’ve ever seen her move. You looked at Maxwell and he looked at you before cracking a smile.

“Holy shit.” He laughed, “She asked you out.”

“I guess she did.” You say lightly.

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Somebody has a crush.”

You flip him off.

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #tea and ice lattes #my writing #duck finally returns #coffee shop AU

59 notes · View notes

midnightmoonkiss · 4 years

Text

The Lure Of Nightfall

Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: Boredom truly does hit differently when it’s late at night and you can’t sleep. So, in an effort to make your night interesting, you head over to your best friend and long-term crushes dorm, seeking to play games. But boy oh boy are you in for a surprise.

WARNINGS!: Voyeurism, Masturbation, Very Spicy stuff. 18+!

Category: Smut

Word Count: 2.8k+

A/N: It’s very late at night, I’m very tired, this fic is weird, thank you.

Just To Clarify:

Reader has a shapeshifting quirk

Reader is female

(f/c) means favorite color

Time is night

Can be any year you want it to be

Part 2

A gentle spring breeze blew in through your opened sliding glass door, (f/c) curtains dancing along with it to the soft beat of crickets chirping in the yard.

The moon was full, shrouding the Earth with her calming white glow.

The world looked so peaceful during this time of night.

No loud music blasting from Jirou’s room,

No gremlin noises echoing down the hall.

No nothing.

Just the wind, crickets, and the annoying, ever-present sound of you breathing.

It was nice.

Calming, even.

The lights were turned off, leaving the room beautifully exposed to the moon beams making their way in through the glass, curtains, and the open door itself.

Had it not been for the fact that it was only 11:00PM, and that it was indeed a Saturday, you would have been asleep long ago.

But no.

After a full week of exciting activities and horrendous studies, your body was too buzzed from the unusual surplus of sleep to actually feel tired.

You were so full of energy, and yet, now would be the perfect time to lay down and drift into dreamland, lulled by the sounds of nature.

What’s a teen to do other than to stare blankly at her glow-in-the-dark star covered ceiling, trying to force herself to feel tired?

There was absolutely nothing to do.

A mental checklist popped into your head for the third time that night:

Homework? Completed.

Shower? Taken.

Studying? Finished.

Perhaps you could study more?

No. The subjects you were currently learning in all of your classes were too boring to attempt to read at this time of night.

You wouldn't fall asleep to the pages droning on about something so infuriatingly bland, rather, you’d just be annoyed and end up slamming the hard-covered textbook closed.

With an exasperated sigh, you rolled onto your side, picking up your phone just to blindly scroll through the same three apps you always used to pass time.

How boring.

This was definitely a waste of time.

Oh!

A dorky smile crept onto your face smooshed into your pillow as a great idea popped into your head.

You could annoy your best friend, Izuku Midoriya!

Yes, he was always awake at this time studying!

His devotion was admirable, you sat up with a nod at this thought. If only you could follow in his footsteps.

Then again, he liked studying, and you didn’t.

He always seemed so energetic when you studied together, whilst you were trying not to construct another shitty paper airplane with the homework paper.

Maybe you could convince him to play a game? Watch a movie?

You’ve visited his dorm enough times to know he has a PS4 hidden away in his cabinets.

You jumped up, bed creaking beneath the sudden strain as you went about putting on some socks and a very, very thin slip on hoodie. It was almost like one of those slip-on things that were partially see-through that people would wear at the beach.

Even if you have been friends for years, poor Midoriya never could handle the sight of you in just a tank top.

The weather was never a good excuse, apparently, and it wasnt that bothersome to wear something over you.

It was much cooler than wearing a t-shirt, considering all the ones you owned were thicker than necessary due to them being from cheap stores and not places at the mall or something.

Who needs fancy clothes when those were comfy and fit just fine?

Plus, Seiyu, or ‘The Japanese Walmart’ as Americans liked to call it, was where you got Deku hooked on his horrible fashion sense and love for clothing that displayed it’s legitimate name on it.

You smiled as you finally slipped your white slippers on, he was such a dork.

The only problem left was sneaking out.

It was past curfew, and visiting the boys dorm at this hour would probably get you a one-way ticket to the principal's office if you tried sneaking down and up the stairs.

Times like these are when your quirk truly came in handy - Shapeshifting.

It took a toll on your body when you stayed in a form for more than an hour, but you didn’t plan on being something for more than a few minutes, honestly.

So, cracking your knuckles, you stepped out onto your balcony.

Ah, a distraction.

You couldn't help but lift your head and stare at the moon, not realizing just how vibrant it was tonight, outshining the vast majority of stars. Another breeze swept your hair away from your face, ticking your cheeks as it did so.

Sometimes you need to take a step back and appreciate the little things, right?

But you couldn’t waste much more time, you really, really wanted to beat Izuku at Mario Kart again.

He was so cute when he whines in defeat.

With a giggle, you jumped up onto the ledge, letting the burning hot sensation of your quirk getting ready to work flow through your veins. The bigger the animal you turned into, the more painful it was, but you didn’t need to be big. You needed to be small, a little magpie.

You jumped, a bolt of electricity flashing through your body as your bones crunched around your ears. And just like that, you were now a little black and blue bird fluttering in the sky above your balcony.

It used to be terrifying to try to change whilst jumping, but it didn’t take long for logic to replace fear. Truth or the matter was: it’s easier to change when you’re already in motion.

With a small chirp, you flew around the building, wings flapping every few seconds, suddenly in no real hurry and just enjoying the rush of wind against your feathers.

It didn’t take long to reach Midoriya’s balcony, his bright red curtains easy to spot from a mile away.

His curtains were open partially tonight, though. Good! Maybe you could scare him!

It was pure evil, trying to scare him, but he typically always caught onto your antics before you had a chance to enact them.

He was quite perceptive!

But maybe, just maybe, if you were lucky, you could.

Still, he didn’t typically have his curtains open. And his door was open too?

Maybe he was taking the chance to bask in the moonlight and breeze as well?

His light wasn’t on..

Oh boy.

You hoped he wasn't asleep.

You tweeted involuntarily in disappointment at the thought.

Without haste, you swooped down, wings fluttering momentarily as you perched yourself on his balcony’s railing.

Shaking your wings out and settling down on your bird feet, you anxiously peered through the window.

What you saw shocked you to your very core, and it was hard not to shriek at the sight and light sounds being carried out the window.

Izuku Midoriya, your best friend, long-time crush, sweetest and most innocent cinnamon roll you’ve ever known to exist, was currently masturbating on his bed.

His covers were seemingly half-hazardly kicked to the floor, body arched, completely nude, head thrown back into the pillow, and feet digging into his bed as he furiously pumped his cock, hips snapping up to try and match the pace set.

Oh my god.

“Ah~ Ha-ah! Hah.. Nnhghh..!”

Oh god, oh god!

Why was this so hot!

But no!

This was so, so wrong!

You can’t believe you were watching this!

Your feathers ruffled up in disgust for yourself, how could you stand here, watching this?!

This was a private moment, one solely for Midoriya, and not your peeping eyes!

And yet.

You couldn’t seem to turn your head or fly away.

No, you stood there, taking in the glorious sight and the oh-so sweet sounds he was making.

His jaw hung open, moans spilling from him with every thrust, eyes squeezed shut as he no doubt sunk into the world of his vivid imaginations.

Funnily enough, the moon’s light was shining down on his cock,

copious amounts of pre-cum glistening on his fingers.

He was so cute.. Even now.

A dark blush stained his cheeks and neck, almost completely hiding away his freckles but shining from the tears streaming down them.

Why was he crying?

Your tail twitched.

Was he.. That sensitive? So lost in pleasure that he didn’t realize he was crying?

You watched in amazement as he spread his toned legs shimmering with sweat wider, his left hand now coming down, teasingly tracing his abs just to feel them twitch, fingers gliding through his forest-green happy trail to cup and massage his balls.

His body jolted, more pre-cum oozing out of his angry-red tip,

“G-gahh! S-so g-oo-d! So goodsogoo-D! Ahh!” He babbled, a thin string of saliva escaping the corner of his mouth.

Your heart was hammering in your tiny chest, knowing how horrible of a human being you were being, how opposite of a hero you were acting, but yet it was hard to find the fucks you had left to give in this predicament.

It wasn’t everyday you get to see such a beautiful sight.

He was so fucking handsome.

His body was practically glowing thanks to the natural light and sweat, and by god he was ripped!

You already knew that before, but seeing his muscles twitch under his skin as he brought himself wave after wave pleasure was a lot different than him swimming laps at the pool.

His unruly green locks were plastered to his sweaty forehead, giving you the best view of his face twisting in pure ecstasy.

You wondered what he was imagining with each moan, wondering who he was thinking of with every thrust.

It was Ochaco, surely, or perhaps Tsu or Momo? Mina, even. They were all such good choiced, even if the thought of him imagining your now sudden rivals made bile creep up your throat.

Maybe..

Just maybe it was you..

The idea sent tingles down your spine.

In truth, he was thinking about you.

This whole thing started unknowingly because of you.

You had worn thigh highs today instead of your usual knee high socks, and all day Midoriya's eyes were glued to your perfect thighs.

He was in heaven with every step you took, eyes hazily staring at how some of your thigh spilled over the edge.

He wanted to touch them so bad, feel the soft skin in his palms, massage them, kiss them, hold them open as he sunk his throbbing member into your dripping heat.

He wanted you so bad.

It was a challenge to last this long, waiting till Aoyama and Mineta were fast asleep before he could indulge in his fantasies.

He was no stranger to fantasies about you, often having them a few times a month for nearly two years now.

You were just so perfect and beautiful..

His hand glided up and down his cock faster, the other one leaving his full balls just to go and play with his hard nipples and ground himself a bit.

He was so lost, his usually very observant self didnt even hear the flapping of wings or feel the birds’ stare on him as he worked himself to his imagination.

In his head, you were beneath him, moaning like a slut as he fucked you relentlessly.

Those glorious thighs tightly hugged his hips, desperate to not let him pull away so far from you.

Your breasts bounce with each slam on his hips, nipples red and glistening with saliva as he was previously sucking on them just to hear you squeal from the unfamiliar feeling of teeth and a tongue on your buds.

Your combined moans and the sound of skin slapping against wet flesh made him dizzy with desire.

Your neck was covered in his marks, a sense of pride swelling in his chest at the sight. You were his and those marks proved it. They’d be hard to cover up, the entire class would know you’re his and his alone.

He stared down at your sinful face, tongue flopping out of your mouth, eyes opened and pupils blown wide as you tried to maintain intimate eye contact.

“(Y-Y/N)!” He moaned, body twisting on his sheets.

He was so close, he could feel it.

The familiar burning sensation of a hot coil twisting around in his stomach, the tensing of his thighs.

He ripped his hand from his nipple just so he could rub his palm in circles over his overly-sensitive head, middle finger occasionally dipping down to rub over his oozing slit.

“Ahhh~! Fuck! F-Fuck! O-oh God! I’m s-so! Ghhnn! Ngnaaahh! I’m so close!!” he cried out.

In his head, you were already pushed to the edge, walls strangling his dick as you screamed his name, orgasm wracking your trembling body, fingernails digging into his scratched up back.

His teary eyes snapped open having been ripped from his fantasy, irises rolling back in his head.

His body was on fire, his cock twitched in his hand before the coil finally burst.

“(Y/N)!! Ahhh! AHH! I- I lov! You! Ggggh-!”

He was cut off with a loud, guttural moan, white ropes of thick cum spurted from his tip. His body spasmed, hands now clutching the sheets for dear life as the last rope of cum ejaculated from him, coating his heaving tummy and chest in his own white seed.

Your eyes widened, body trembling as you watched it all go down.

He moaned your name!

He!

He thought about you, just as you did about him!

The sudden desire to stuff your hand between your human legs throbbed in the back of your head as you watched him try and catch his breath.

It was amazing how much he came.. For such a small dude, no less!

His body fell lax, thighs finally dropping down onto the mattress as he just sat there.

You were about to leave, truly, you were, until you made eye-contact with him.

With his post-orgasm clarity, he finally felt the eyes burning into his skin, making his anxious head snap in the direction of the window.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw a bird, a very common one at that, perched on the railing.

Wait.

He left the window open!? Oh god!

His hands slapped on his cheeks in embarrassment.

He hoped no one heard him!!

He could be so unknowingly loud when in the heat of the moment…

Sniffing his embarrassment down, he reached over, grabbing some tissues to clean himself off with before throwing them in the trash and hopping up to go and rinse himself off in the bathroom.

He was amazed to see the bird still there when he came back out, watching his nude self walk across the room to his Allmight boxers he threw to the floor not long ago.

Why the hell were you still there, you ask? Well, honestly leaving slipped your mind.

But you couldnt tear your gaze away.. You were so intrusive… but he was so fucking hot.

It was definitely strange to see him walk out of the bathroom nude, and you thanked the gods when he put on boxers. Your body could not handle seeing his flaccid dick swing about, you’d probably die of even more embarrassment.

You hopped back in surprise when a finger suddenly appeared in your little face, behind that finger an innocently smiling Midoriya.

“Hello, little bird~” He cooed softly, voice unusually deep and scratchy from previously screaming his heart out.

Your body was already burning hot beneath all those feathers, but he certainly wasnt helping!

To see him so blissed out, so relaxed after such an intimate thing, it was too much!

You chirped, leaning forward to nuzzle his finger as a good-bye before hopping back to spread your wings, finally gaining the guts to fly the fuck away and back to your dorm.

He stared in wonder as the bird turned the corner, not giving it’s unusual behavior much thought before going to collapse on his bed for a much needed sleep.

Electricity buzzed through your body again as you flew into your dorm, sloppily transforming back and landing on your ass.

You heaved, shakily propping yourself up on your hands and knees as your body burned in desire, throbbing in places previously nonexistent in your bird form.

Not making the same mistake as dearest Izuku, you shut and locked your sliding glass door, pulling the curtains closed as you flopped onto your bed, hand immediately burying itself between your thighs.

It was wrong before, and it was even more wrong now, but at the moment, you didn’t care.

You just wanted to sink into the fantasy similar to his own as you lost yourself in pleasure.

You’d deal with the repercussions at a later date, especially since it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out it was obviously you on that balcony.

#izuku midoriya x reader #deku xreader #izuku x reader #x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #n/sfw #my hero academia #midoriya x reader #deku x reader

2K notes · View notes

rvmmm21 · 3 years

Text

. six things vampires love about puppies .

[vampiremum!irene x puppy!wendy]

. . . . .

In Joohyun’s definitely unbiased opinion, Seungwan has too many habits that make her the cutest girl in the world.

Here are just a few of her favourites:

one:

Mornings aren’t the best, the vampiress especially can attest to that. But luckily, they have ‘Sunshine Time’ before school. Just as the gentle morning rays peep through the curtains, Joohyun dutifully rouses little puppy, peppering kisses over soft ears, feeling her actions prompt a string of tiny yawns, one big stretch, and the groggiest little mumble of “luv u mummie”. Joohyun’s heart sings at the sound of her title, and she tells her Wannie that she’ll never stop loving her too. They brush their teeth, but before they even think about getting ready for the big day of learning ahead, Joohyun’s bent forward with Seungwan’s both hands around her wrist as she toddles over to the window.

She’s aimed for her favourite spot in the house, other than the play room, of course. It’s a homemade bed thing that Joohyun had crafted from an old duvet and some spare blankets. Joohyun thinks it kind of looks like a dog bed, but she only smiles when Seungwan gravitates towards it, knowing the penny will drop when little puppy is older. Within minutes, they’re in their routine position; Wannie snuggled into her blankies and the vampiress sitting right where the light draws the line into darkness. Joohyun’s knees hurt sometimes from the strain of how she’s sitting– staying in the dark but also reaching over as much as she can to give Seungwan the head pats she deserves (and whines if she doesn’t constantly get).

Because it’s still relatively early in the morning, Joohyun more often than not finds that Seungwan’s checked into Dreamland yet again. An adoring sigh leaves her as she detaches herself and lightly pads over to the wardrobe to get her uniform out while her snoozy puppy snores lightly in her puddle of sunshine.

They’ll pack lunch together.

. . . . .

two:

Seungwan’s sense of smell is vigorous, which is great because it’s also how she shows affection. Sometimes, Joohyun will find herself with a chestful of mopey puppy in the middle of the day while she’s doing whatever she’s doing. She presses her nose into Joohyun’s clothes, or even just her collarbone and takes lungfuls of her mummy’s scent.

“What’s the matter, puppy?” she coos, gently tilting her sniffling Wannie away from her.

Seungwan’s too upset to talk. She wriggles, wanting to latch on again. But Joohyun won’t give in. Not yet.

She takes the tip of a velvet ear between her fingers, giving it a few soft rolls and watching erratic breathing calm down. Truthfully, there’s no need to even ask what the matter is. Those teary eyes can hide nothing from her.

So she resigns, letting Seungwan quietly cuddle into her front.

“It’s maths homework, isn’t it?”

There’s a small nod against her followed by heavy inhales. The vampiress whispers to her baby until the hiccups even out and Seungwan is sound asleep. They’ll work on those equations later on.

Joohyun swears if maths were a person, they’d rue the day they ever hurt her Wannie.

. . . . .

three:

On a slightly more serious note, Joohyun has had to have some talks with her baby about self-assurance and dignity. It was on a walk one afternoon, and Seungwan had seen some other kids over by the swings.

“Swings! Push Wannie?”

Seungwan is always this excited about swings. Swingy Time gets her Wannie just as hyper as Swimmy Time. Joohyun holds her hand as they approach the swingset, ready to wait their turn. She looks down to see a tail held high, poking from underneath the seam of her puffy winter coat, something she learnt puppies do when they’re feeling friendly and happy.

That is, until Seungwan realises that, on second thought, she… didn’t really want to go on the swings after all.

As they near, the vampiress swallows a surprised gasp when Seungwan just… anchors herself to the ground. It takes her a while to figure it out, but when she observes closer, the problem shows itself larger than life.

They’re not hybrids, just regular children.

A pang of heartache twists into her chest as she watches tiny hands move at the speed of light, furiously tucking her tail up and under her coat so it’s way out of sight before making grabs with outstretched arms at the baseball cap on Joohyun’s head.

She knows what Seungwan is doing, but she asks anyway, ready to teach her. “Why, baby?”

Guilty ears flip back and sadly droop down. Seungwan knows she’s been read, but she can’t help it! Those kids are going to run away if they see gross dog ears sticking out of her head!

“G-gib Wannie,” she pouts, quickly remembering her manners when Joohyun raises a brow down at her, “pl-please… mummie.”

“You’re hiding your ears, aren’t you?” The vampiress crouches. “Wan-ah, don’t do that. Don’t hide those cute ears and that happy tail. Mummy loves those so much.”

Seungwan is all but convinced. You may like it, mummie, but– ”when they see, they say Wannie’s weird.”

It’s time to be firm, and Joohyun holds a pouting puppy still. “Look at me, baby.”

Teary eyes meet hers.

“Those kids are not going to make fun of you. And if they do, then mummy won’t be happy with them. And you know what that means, right?”

Seungwan can’t hide her evil smirk. Extra brussel sprouts for their dinners.

“You’re not weird for having these,” she emphasises her point by smoothing a warm, chocolate ear and Seungwan’s eyes begin to close. She squeaks when Joohyun moves to untuck her tail from the base of her coat. “Or this.”

She’ll save the real talks about self-esteem and insecurities for when her puppy is older, but for now, Seungwan just needs to know that her mummy will have her back, come what may.

Hand in hand, they make their way over to the swings and the playing children. And aside from the initial blatant questioning about where she got those added features, Seungwan made a few new friends at the park that day.

(Joohyun was ever ready to pounce at the slightest hint of mean-spiritedness she felt– but she realised that it was just that no beating around the bush way that kids ask questions).

. . . . .

four:

Oh, oh, okay. So Seungwan is a nervous little puppy as much as she’s a friendly one, right? And Joohyun finds that hilarious and heart-wrenching all at once when she watches her pup trying to make new friends but can’t seem to find the right way to introduce herself. It takes all her cooperating brain cells to not either roll about laughing or scoop the little thing up and smother her in reassuring kisses when the ‘I’m Shy, It’z Me’ stance comes out.

Ears pressed flat, eyes burrowed into the ground, tail stiffer than a wooden plank.

The other hybrid kid pokes unsure, searching sniffs at the air around her, clearly very interested in becoming friends.

Aigo, you need a boost, don’t you baby, Joohyun coos, coming up with her magic hands to help her relax. “Wannie, come on. Say hello.”

She gives her shivering puppy a few butt pats to ease the tension. “Aigo, Chaengie won't bite. Look, she’s curling her tail! She wants to play with you, Wannie!”

A coffee-coloured ear springs back up, curiously folding over as Seungwan cocks her head. Chaengie wants to play too? She quickly glances back up at her mummy, as if double-checking with her that that really was the case.

“Mhm,” the vampiress assures with a few more tail pats of encouragement. “What have we said about manners, Wan? What do we do when someone’s happy to see us?”

Seungwan pauses for a second, but eventually looks up with soft, shiny eyes, whispering, “wag tail, mummie.”

Joohyun thinks Seungwan’s innocence in situations like these is astounding, but she knows she’s got the right idea. She smiles and nods in affirmative praise.

We show them we’re happy to see them too–

– so yes, puppy, wag tail.

“Good girl! Go on, you can do it.” Her comforting presence takes a flame to the frozen fluff, and it begins to swish back and forth. Tentatively at first, but then like a speedboat motor, a couple hours later when they’re frolicking in the park, playing tag and one hundred percent best friends now.

Joohyun and Jisoo watch from afar, wondering how those silly kids were ever so shy in front of each other in the first place.

. . . . .

five:

If Joohyun has one complaint, it would be the misfortune of physical growth. The vampiress misses the times where her arm span alone was enough to wrap puppy in a burrito hug during movie nights or… whenever a set of curious eyes spied her mummy’s arms lacking in… well, her. Unfortunately nowadays it’s a bit harder to cocoon her baby like she used to so easily do, only because Seungwan’s sprouted a few inches skywards. But Seungwan doesn’t know that. She still thinks she’s as little as she was when her mummy had spooked her and taken her home that night.

And Joohyun’d be damned if she ever changed that.

. . . . .

six:

Turns out that one way ticket to Nibble City was actually an All Seasons VIP Pass, because Seungwan is unstoppable.

Whenever she finds something she really, really loves, she does these little nibbles on them to show it. And it isn’t just limited to her dino-shaped butter biscuits or Pippin either. There are many things she loves! Mummy the most, of course. And then there are the inanimate objects.

As much as Joohyun doesn’t mind it, Wannie’s habit can prove to be a challenge. Especially when she finds the corners of pillowcases suspiciously frayed when she’s having guests over, or when she’s trying to stir Yerimie’s favourite kimchi soup, only to pick up the wooden ladle and find its handle all wet and indented with tiny teeth.

“Seung-Wan-ah!” she calls… in that tone.

That tone that soon has muffled, panicked thuds reverberating through the house as a little someone makes a break for her toy fort where she’ll be safe from the dragon’s wrath.

She thinks she’s so slick until the dragon herself barges through that door, effortlessly bypassing all Seungwan’s meticulous booby traps and her blue blanket moat. Her castle, her safehold has just been ruined! All lines of defence defeated by the monster herself!

Her fort is under siege, so like any good ruler, Seungwan resorts to playing the deadest of dead. It’s never very effective though, because with just a few tickles, the dragon is able to conjure an innocent little puppy back to life.

“Wannie….”

“Yis, mummie?” she replies, giggling softly.

And then the dragon’s gone and her mummy is back all of a sudden.

Joohyun shakes her head at how easy it is for Seungwan to make her forget why she was mad in the first place.

. . . . .

There are so many more things to list, and the vampiress could go on for centuries about Seungwan’s endearing quirks.

So perhaps she will, but for now, it’s time for a dino-shaped butter biscuit and some cuddles.

See you soon!

small note: this makes me think of you. when you see this, i hope you smile too.

an even smaller note: not proofread. i'll do that in a sec. but i missed them so much too! didn't expect to churn this out at this time but here we go.

#red velvet #wenrene #hybrid au #puppy seungwan #and vampire irene #say hello!#wenrene domestic fluff #its been a while

52 notes · View notes

yakultberry · 3 years

Text

daffodils in winter (1); l.jh

✪ summary: in ancient times, only two lovers were able to sway hades into granting them a second chance at life together. even so, a single look back doomed their love story to inevitably remain a tragedy. but is fate truly set in stone or are we able to mold it with our own hands? ✪ pairing: orpheus!jihoon x eurydice!reader ✪ genre(s): angst, fluff, reincarnation au, modern greek mythology au, just,,,, a lot of pining ✪ word count: 3.2k words

✪ a/n: surprise @custardheart!! i’m your cwc secret santa! c: <33 i had so much fun trying to not to make it obvious that it was me HAHAH i even told you my dog’s nickname in case you had seen him before. i always love our conversations hahah it feels like we could just talk for hours and hours, especially since we have so much in common hehehe you are literally one of the sweetest people i know on cwc and i’m so glad to call you my friend!!

anyway, this took me so long and it’s not even complete 😔 i really wanted to try making a fic that caters to you and all the things you like reading so i just tried throwing it all in there LOL also peep the banner bc i tried to imitate your blog aesthetic too (which i LOVE by the way). since i didn’t want to leave you empty-handed or for you to think i forgot about you while i complete this fic, i decided to just release it in parts adkjsfals hopefully that’s ok!!

merry christmas and happy new year, taylor!! I LOVE YOUUU 🥺💖

It was nearly 10pm but the night was as lively as ever with people bustling and weaving along like the small stream that flowed through the middle of the stone-paved walkway. They strolled down the worn path on which thousands of footsteps had passed before them, their breaths lingering in the December air as they laughed together and whispered soft wishes. The harsh bite of winter never deterred couples from coming out to the walkway; in fact, many lovers used the cold as an excuse to clasp each other’s hands tighter, to press their warm bodies closer together. Even on the harshest nights, the walkway welcomed a handful of couples who would stay until the early hours of the morning.

This could, in part, be attributed to the walkway itself, or rather what could be found on the walkway. Anyone who stepped along the trodden path would soon find the walkway’s source of life and warmth: a flower stand. Now there were many walkways with flower stands, some even host more than one stand, but none ever seen like this. Even in the middle of winter, the humble stand teemed as though it were early spring with its variety of soft pink tulips, vibrantly purple violas, dainty white snowdrops, and daffodils so yellow they nearly glowed. Each flower was in almost unnaturally pristine condition-- there was never one droopy petal or dried up leaf. Rumor stated that if you bought a bouquet for your significant other, your relationship would surely last a lifetime, outlasting the winters that you might endure.

Jihoon, of course, knew that this was all a very elaborate marketing scheme to lure out crowds of hopeful couples. While he didn’t have a green thumb himself, he figured that technology must have advanced enough to allow for such beautiful flowers to exist despite the cold, but he wasn’t all too invested in finding out the how’s and what-for’s of the small stand. As long as it brought out the crowds, Jihoon couldn’t care less if the stand scammed naive romantics into throwing away their money for some flimsy symbol of everlasting love. What mattered to him was finding an audience, and he knew, without doubt, that he would find one here. He could already feel the lingering eyes of passersby as he arranged his amp and microphone, filling him with a bubbling anticipation that made his fingers itch for his guitar.

Despite the tattered appearance of the case, the guitar within seemed to be lined with gold along its edges, gleaming fantastically under the light of a street lamp. Upon closer inspection however, it was apparent that the instrument was well-worn with its own array of scuffs and scratches along the neck and body from its many years of performance. The guitar fit into Jihoon’s hands as if it were molded to be held by him, and he smiled to himself as he strummed each string to check for tuning. Just like that, he felt home.

“Do you always have to set up so close to me?” At the sound of your voice, Jihoon felt his grin widen, and he immediately looked up to make sure that you saw it in all its smug, cheeky glory. You stood to the side with a pair of stem clippers in hand, which he might have found intimidating had you not been holding a daffodil in the other. The endearing smile that itched at the corners of your lips didn’t do much to scare him either.

“This is where all the foot traffic is, so yes,” he mused teasingly. He then pointed to the flower in your hand. “I see you’re getting ready to shower me in flowers after my performance. People usually throw roses though, you know.”

“Okay, just don’t let it get of hand this time,” you said over your shoulder, already turning back to return to your flower stand. He didn’t dare look away, because on your third step back, you always twirled to face him for a moment to flash your unfaltering smile at him, which he mirrored.“The whole neighborhood must have thought you were having a concert with all the people that came out.”

“That wasn’t my fault!” he called after you, but you had already returned to your post, greeting several new customers who looked at your bouquets with awe and wonder.

As you began to gather flowers for a couple’s request, you could hear Jihoon finally open his set with a healing, energetic tune that had the small crowd clapping along to the beat. The first time he had come out to the walkway, it had shocked you how the first note he strummed had immediately taken a hold of you, how it had somehow melted your concentrated frown into a smile with ease. It had been the end of a long day and you were ready to close up shop when a boy had set up for a busking session nearby. Although he only brought one small amp, you felt each note resonate in your chest, and felt the music brush your skin as though it hung in the air like a mist. Suddenly, thoughts of your stressful day had dissipated, dissolved by the boy’s guitar and clear, pure voice. It was unlike anything you felt before.

And yet, it was so easy for you to give in to the enchanting sensation, falling into its embrace like you were reunited friends.

Now you anticipated the way the melody gently tugged your lips into a smile and how your heart beat seemed to fall into rhythm with each chord. You knew you weren’t the only one so strongly moved by the music though. The customers you were currently tending to, a young couple new to the walkway, had immediately turned their heads towards Jihoon as he continued his set with another lighthearted tune about confessing and butterflies. Their sparkling eyes told you that you weren’t the only one moved by Jihoon’s music, and you couldn’t help but notice how they subconsciously reached for each other’s hands, fingers intertwining fondly. Much to your concern, a wistful sigh escapes your lips at the sight. Your eyebrows furrowed as you felt a dull ache blanket over your chest.

You tried shaking your head to rid yourself of the feeling, rushing to finish wrapping up the flowers in brown paper and string. “Your bouquet is ready!” you said much louder than intended, snapping the couple from their daze. Both blinked in surprise at their clasped hands as if just realizing how close they’d gotten, and you bit back a giggle when they could no longer meet each other’s eyes. Much like many of your other customers on the nights that Jihoon busked, they immediately joined his audience after paying, unable to get enough of his sweet voice. You stared after them for a bit, feeling somewhat intrusive as they overcame their initial hesitance and held hands once more. And suddenly it was there again: this time it felt more restless like you were waiting, but for what, you didn’t know.

It wasn’t the first time you felt this way. In fact, every time it creeped up on you like this, it frightened you how it settled in the pit of your stomach so effortlessly as if it had made a home there, deep inside you. It made you feel like you had been waiting for tens of thousands of lifetimes. Like you had been waiting so long that you forgot what you were waiting for.

At this point, you weren’t sure if you wanted to remember.

Throughout your life, the weight in your chest had made itself known only a handful of times, usually in quiet moments when the dark felt like it could swallow you up. It was the reason why you took refuge in the bright hustle and bustle of the walkway and why you lingered if only to be surrounded by your flowers. But now, it followed you even in the middle of a crowd, in the midst of the music.

“Hi! Could I get some roses?” The voice of a new customer finally tugged your attention from the couple, allowing for the pressure in your chest to dissolve for the moment.

“Of course you can, sir,” you chirped, relieved for the distraction. “What color? Would you like a bouquet?”

The customer, who stood alone, seemed to wiggle in thought. “Red, I guess! Don’t worry about wrapping them up! I’ll just take them as is, since I’ll be throwing them to that busker over there.”

“Oh! Wow, he must have made a real fan out of you, sir.”

At your statement, he let out a chuckle. “Oh, for sure. I wish he chose a warmer venue though.I guess that can’t be helped,” he said, giving you a meaningful nod, eyes gleaming as they always seemed to. You were taken aback by the sudden realization: You’ve met him before.

“Right,” you replied absentmindedly, forcing yourself to focus on gathering the last of your customer’s order in an attempt to mask your bewilderment. You were positive that you had never seen this man’s face in your life, yet you were struck with the insistence that not only did you know him, but that he knew you too. He was there, somewhere in your memory. But the closer you tried to get, the further you seemed to step into a murky fog; was it a far away memory or was it just a dream? Chancing a glance at him only served to fluster you even further, especially with the way his smile made you feel as though he could sense your inner bewilderment. You cleared your throat and timidly returned his smile as you handed him his roses. “Anyway uh-- here is your order, sir! He’s about to play the last of his set, so you should probably get over there. Hopefully he likes them!”

“Oh, I’m sure he will love them,” the customer grinned, placing cash in place of the flowers. “Well, I’ll see you around!”

And with a quick wink, he made his way to join Jihoon’s audience, and once more, you were left to deal with your thoughts on your own. What was it with the customers and launching you into emotional reveries tonight? You decided that that was a good excuse as any to close up shop for the night; you weren’t sure that you’d be able to handle another bout of deja vu or inexplicable longing. Plus you wanted to properly watch Jihoon’s last song, as you always did. You glanced over at him as you cleaned up, but you were quick to avert your gaze when he suddenly met your eyes and offered you a wide grin.

As much as you enjoyed his music, you couldn’t ignore how his appearance in your life coincided with these recurring feelings. It was perplexing how it seemed that with one strum of his guitar, he somehow brought you both comfort and simmering unease. But if you were being honest, you couldn’t say you hated it. You knew that if you asked him to set up a little more upstream, your flower stand would undoubtedly become your haven once more. It was an easy fix. Simple. But even when his weekly busks frequented to every other day, you only found yourself clutching tighter to that moment of elation when he began a performance.

When you stood there and listened to him play, you had a growing certainty that you would go through any length of suffering if it meant you could keep that moment.

Jihoon was barely able to sing his last note when the crowd drowned him out with applause and, to his surprise, showered him in several roses from the stand. He caught one in his hand, eyes shining with laughter as he immediately searched for your face. Instead of finding you though, he caught sight of someone that wiped the smile from his lips. Before he could so much as curse under his breath, the man took hold of his microphone and addressed the audience.

“Bravo, bravo! Ladies and gentlemen, please give another round of applause for Woozi, Olympic Entertainment’s feature producer! Woo!” the man boomed a little too close to the mic. “Olympic Entertainment sincerely thanks you for all of your love and support from this past year. We hope that you can continue supporting us and listening to Woozi’s ballads in this upcoming year. Please be on the lookout for his new single that we will be releasing on New Year’s Day!”

As the crowd erupted into murmurs and whispers, the man turned to beam at Jihoon, who replied with a stare as cold as the wind. “Soonyoung, what are you doing here?”

“The boss wants you to stop screwing around and get back to the studio,” Soonyoung said with a shrug.

“I’m not screwing around! You know damn well why I came out here--”

“Hey, those were his words not mine-- I’m just delivering them.” Jihoon tensed when he felt Soonyoung’s hand on his shoulder, having half a mind to shrug it off. He knew though, that Soonyoung had little choice when it came to the boss’ word, and neither did he. There was no use in taking out his frustrations on his friend, especially when the damage was already done. “You know that I would never have taken it that far if I didn’t have to.”

Jihoon sighed, nodding. “I know. I’ll just see you tomorrow.”

The crowd gradually dispersed as Jihoon packed away all of his equipment, and suddenly, he felt the full force of winter without the warmth of the crowd shielding him. He hadn’t expected that it would be so cold. After his previous busk sessions, several people in the audience would stay a while longer and approach him, usually to make conversation about his music or to simply thank him for the performance. Now they kept their distance, looking his way discreetly while they whispered about who he really was like he couldn’t hear them. Jihoon scoffed and slammed his guitar case shut, numb fingers fumbling at the clasps.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t have to look up to know that it was you.

“I’m fine,” he huffed out, jaw clenched. When you didn’t make any move to leave, he gave in and looked at you, a grave mistake on his part. At the sight of your sympathetic smile, he sat back down on the bench; there was no use struggling to put up a front when you seemed to see right through it anyway. You sat on the opposite end of the bench, facing him to show that you were there to listen. After all those times he came here, this was probably the closest you’d ever gotten to him, and yet Jihoon found himself wishing you had sat closer. “Well, I’ve been better.”

“I’m sorry that I sold that guy those flowers. If I had known that he was going to do that, I--”

“No, that was all on me,” Jihoon said quickly, unable to let you apologize any further when you were merely doing your job. “You probably think I just came here for some promotional stunt.”

“I mean I didn’t, but now that you mention it…” Without knowing it, Jihoon let out a chuckle at your teasing. “Even if it was for promotions, I don’t think anyone here would mind. Plenty of people busk to promote themselves. I don’t think that makes their songs any less genuine.”

He shook his head, the sigh that left his lips hanging in the air for a moment. “I mind. I love my job and everything, but I really needed a break from all that extra stuff. I came here because I knew it would just be about the music. No one had stopped to listen because it was my music or if it was a Woozi production or whatever. They only listened because they liked it. Now I won’t know if that’s actually the case.”

“I don’t see why they can’t enjoy your music while knowing who you are,” you said, eyebrows scrunched together, and Jihoon watched as you rested the side of your head against the back of the bench. Have your eyes always been this captivating? You dropped your voice to a stage whisper. “Is that your secret? Is your music magical only for those who don’t know your true identity?”

“Something like that. Isn’t my music a bit more impressive if I’m just a regular person and not a professional producer?” Jihoon laughed. “I mean, imagine if people knew the secret behind how you grow your flowers in the winter. Don’t you think they’d be less inclined to buy them?”

You snorted. “I don’t have a secret, though?”

“Oh come on, you literally sell springtime flowers in the winter! You must get them imported or have some kind of fancy greenhouse.”

“I literally can’t even rent a space to sell my flowers indoors. I can’t afford any of that! They’re just flowers that I’ve grown in my garden. I tell people how I grow my flowers all the time and it doesn’t change anything. It still means something to them,” you said insistently. And then, softer, “Just like how knowing you’re some big shot producer doesn’t change the fact that I’ve never heard music like yours before.”

Jihoon swallowed, wanting more than ever to close the distance between the two of you. It was a gravity that he felt ever since his first performance, something he had originally attributed to the walkway and how perfect it was for his busks. As he sat here beside you though, the force seemed to tug at his chest almost painfully until it was aching. With his hands clenched, he tore his gaze away from you, unsure of what he was going to say next. His thoughts were fuzzy, like a static television screen going in and out of focus, and the only image he could make out was you. Or at least he hoped that it was you.

“By the way, ballads? I’ve only ever heard you play happy songs.”

“This was the only place I could play them,” Jihoon replied quietly. When his eyes met with yours, he was taken aback by how much he meant it; even if he tried to play these songs in the studio, he was certain that it wouldn’t be the same at all. Forcing a smile, he finally met your eyes again. “It was nice while it lasted.”

“Wait, are you not… are you not going to come back anymore?”

“I don’t think I should. There wouldn’t be any point, right? Since people know who I am now.”

“Oh.” I still don’t know who you are. This time, you were the one to turn away from him, a small frown on your lips. A harsh wind came in then, ruthlessly rustling the bare branches of trees and lifting loose petals from the ground around your stand. They swirled in the air wildly for several moments before raining down on where you and Jihoon sat in silence. Seeing how he shivered, you took the scarf off your neck and wrapped it around his own. “Here take this.”

“W-what about you?” When he moved to return the item, you shook your head and smiled.

“I’m used to the cold.”

#caratwritersclub #seventeen #seventeen scenarios #woozi #woozi scenarios #lee jihoon #jihoon scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #cwc secret santa #I"M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG

59 notes · View notes

dokifluffs · 4 years

Text

Help | Makoto Tachibana

Pairing: Makoto X Reader (Gender Neutral)

Genre: flufff with lil kids (Makoto’s younger siblings)

Author’s Note: looking for the gifs is the best part tbh

just look at him ugh thank you Kouji Ouji, and thank you Kyoto Animation for bringing him and the entire show to life 🤧

A warm spring breeze blew through the streets and through the window of the Tachibana household. You held Ren in your arms as you sat in the kitchen chair, bouncing the young toddler in your lap as Makoto went about the house, vacuuming, doing the laundry. You came by this morning after getting a call from Makoto, needing your help. His parents had been out of the house for a few days on a business trip, leaving him to take care of Ren and Ran, his young toddler twin siblings. When you came over, he was waiting by the door for you to arrive so he could take Ran to preschool for the day, but Ren had to stay home since the little one came down with a little cold.

It wasn’t too hard of a job for Makoto, but to juggle the schoolwork he had to receive from Haru made it a bit of a challenge. Little kids were a lot to handle with all the attention they needed, but it was such a weight off to know his younger siblings were in good hands whenever you came and helped.

He came from behind you as you fed Ran his snacks, patting your head. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.” He presses a kiss to your head, grateful to have you in his life. “I hope it’s not too much for you.”

“No need to thank me,” you smiled. “And he’s behaving so well, aren’t you Rennie?” A nickname you had given him. Makoto didn’t ask for help often when it came to things at home, so it meant a lot to you that he asked you to help, but it also meant that he really had his hands full.

“Yes!” The little boy bounced in your lap as he threw his arms around your neck, burying his smiles and giggles into your shoulder. You squeezed him lightly in your own arms, smiling up at Makoto as he looked at you with his pinger brother with adoring eyes.

“Oh! I have to hang up the laundry,” he suddenly remembered. “I’m probably going to have to leave to pick up Ran from preschool. Could you make sure he naps later?” He asked as he made his way to he back of the house, getting the clothes from the washer.

“No problem!” You called. “Looks like it’s just you and me,” you brushed the hair from the little boy’s face as he settled back down in your lap, sneezing. You wiped his nose and let him continue to eat the cut up vegetables his mother had left for him.

The day went on with the two of you in the kitchen and now you had to wait some time before you put him down for his nap. Makoto hung each article of clothing one after the other, pinning them to the clothes line to let them dry naturally by air. He kept his eyes on the watch on his wrist, hanging up as much as he could.

As he was about to pin up the last shirt, his watch began to beep, reminding him that it was time to go. He quickly pinned the final shirt and left the basket, reminding himself to bring it back inside when he came back. He proceeded to walk at a fairly fast pace, which was quite easy due to his long legs. The streets were almost empty, except for a few older adults who talked outside their homes, on their porches, or went on walks alongside the beach. The sun glimmered over the horizon, making him wonder if Haru was in there swimming since the weather was so nice.

He passed by the swim club he participated in his childhood alongside Haru, soon approaching the preschool. Many parents walked hand in hand with their child or children, leaving their classrooms.

“Ran, time to go home,” he called to his younger sister, tying her shoes. As busy as they made his life, he was happy he got to experience his life as an older brother.

“Coming!” She called, skipping over to him as he knelt down, taking her into his arms. “Is Ren okay?” She asked as he readjusted his hands, holding her firmly against his body so she wouldn’t fall.

“Mmhm, he’s doing a lot better than he was this morning. Did you miss him?”

“A little bit,” She responded although on the inside, she missed him dearly. They were always together but a day without each other made them notice the difference.

“Aw, it’s okay, you’ll see him soon. Y/N is at hone too,” he smiled knowing how much the younger ones liked you and vice versa. It amazed him how natural you were with kids, but it was also something he admired about you.

“Really?” She gasped excitedly. “We gotta hurry up and go home!” She began to fuss in his arms, trying to climb down as if she could run any faster than he could walk.

“Wait, don’t move too much or else you’ll fall!” He firmed his grasp around her and picked up the pace to soothe her.

Back at home, you carried the little boy up the stairs toward the shared bedroom and laid him into his bed. “Ready for your nap?” Your voice soft.

“I’m not tired,” he said as he yawned.

“Mmhm, how about a little song then,” you suggested.

“Y/N, I’m back,” he called as he settled Ran down. She quickly kicked off her shoes and tossed her backpack to the side as she ran about, looking for you. You were nowhere to be found however, which only meant one thing.

“Ran, you need to keep it down. Ren is trying to sleep,” he picked her back up and carried her upstairs until his thoughts were confirmed. The little girl kept her hands playfully over mouth, not letting a single peep come from her as they both heard the sweet sound of your voice humming from the room.

His heart swelled up twice the size when he saw and heard you. You were knelt beside Ren’s bed, petting his head slowly over his hair, softly singing notes to a lullaby. He had never heard you sing before, but the sight of you doing so was trapped forever in his mind. If he was able to stay in this moment forever with you, he would. The little boy was fast asleep under your touch, allowing you to part from him.

You jumped a little at the sudden sight of Makoto with Ran reaching out her hands silently at you. His eyes were filled with love and light as he looked at you, letting the fresh feeling spread a smile on his face.

“Hey I didn’t even hear you,” you said quietly as you shut the door behind you. The little girl jumped, reaching for hugs from you and began to whine. “Hey princess,” you said as you gave her a smile. She rushed into your arms with excitement when you knelt down to her level. “Let’s have a snack, okay?”

With that, she nodded her head and began to make her way down the stairs as you stood back up to Makoto. He pulled you into his arms and held you closely as the two of you walked down the stairs. “You okay?”

He was more than okay, but saying yes wouldn’t even capture all the fireworks going off inside of him or how fast his heart beat for you. “God, I love you so much,” he said as he held your face in his hand. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips, putting as much love and affection as he could into that kiss. He meant every word and he hoped you felt it too and felt the same for him. He pulled back when Ran called for him from the kitchen, wanting a juice from the fridge.

“What was that all about?” You couldn’t contain the smile that beamed from your face - you even felt a little dizzy since the two of you shared small kisses.

“Just a thanks for the help.”

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

#dokifluffs #makoto x reader #makoto #makoto tachibana #makoto imagines #makoto scenarios #free! imagines #free! scenarios #free!#free! x reader #free! iwatobi swim club #tachibana makoto #makoto tachibana x reader #makoto tachibana imagines #makoto tachibana scenarios

412 notes · View notes

iwillbeinmynest · 4 years

Text

Redcove Harvest - Bucky x Reader(f) Chapter 3

Authors Notes: Glad to know ya’ll are enjoying this! If you happen to really like it, please consider reblogging or commenting. It really helps me understand what parts you do or don’t like about my work. :)

AU: Farmhand AU and SingleMom!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k +

Notes/Warnings: (Notes are for the whole series) FLUFF, mentions of a past toxic relationship, a wild storm at the end, drama and a break-up, mentions of drinking, kids being adorable and ridiculous, kissing, romance and a tiny bit of angst if you look hard but nothing more than that of a Hallmark movie.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

The next week went without a hitch. Bucky would show up at eight, and get right to work mowing the fields. After day four, he had both front fields mowed. He spent the next two days repairing all the holes and broken parts of the fence that lined the front of the property. After that, he cleaned up the fence line by cutting down saplings and removing weeds and vines. He even fixed the mailbox that sat out by the dusty road.

This morning was supposed to be no different but as he pulled up to the house, thunder rumbled. He hopped out of his truck and grabbed his wide brimmed hat. He figured working in the rain might beat working in the early spring heat. He walked over to the tractor but before he could hop on, he heard her.

“Bucky!” She shouted from the porch.

He turned to see Y/N waving him over. He jogged her way and as he reached the steps, the rain started.

“What’s up?” He asked her.

“Well, I figured with the rain I could steal you for some barn work.”

“Oh,” He replied as he took his hat off. “Yeah, I mean I was still planning on mowing. I know you’ve got those three back fields that are still pretty high.”

She waved the thought away. “It’s okay. I know it will get done. I need to get the goat barn fixed up and the horse stables need some minor repairs.”

“Yeah, sure. Lead the way.”

Y/N walked with Bucky in the light rain down to the yellow barn a couple dozen yards from the back of the house.

He’d been there a few times when he needed to talk to her or grab a tool. The goat barn was actually an old horse stable; the entire right side of stalls had been turned into one large stall that connected to one of the three back fields and the left side was a gardening workshop. One of the left side stalls had been turned into a small greenhouse.

Next to the workbench, in the garden shop, there was a large storage bin. It was lit up red with a heat lamp and he heard the faint sound of peeping.

He walked over and, sure enough, there were at least a dozen little chicks running around or huddled under the lamp.

“When did you get these?” He asked. He crossed his arms and smiled back at her.

She stepped up beside him. “Yesterday. Steve had them ordered for me and they finally came in.”

“Nice.”

She shifted her weight and her arm brushed against his. She moved away and apologized.

“Doesn’t bother me.” He reassured her. He really had no problem making contact with her.

She cleared her throat and walked over to the large goat stall. “So,” she changed the subject. “There are several boards around this opening that leads to their pasture. I had a billy a year ago who was a menace and rammed into it all the time. I’m so glad I got rid of him.” She chuckled. “And, goodness, he stank!” She turned to Bucky, “Did you know Billy’s pee on their beards? Because I didn’t.” Her face twisted in disgust.

A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I did know that.”

She huffed and grinned. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty new to this whole farm thing, so I’ve been learning as I go.” Y/N laughed at herself.

“New?” Bucky asked, surprised. “Looks like you’ve got a pretty good grip on it all.”

She shrugged lightly, “I mean, I didn’t start from scratch. This was Gavin’s family’s farm.” She paused then clarified, “Gavin was my husband’s name. He grew up here and when his parents passed, he got the farm. He did a lot of the clean up when we moved in and he purchased the livestock and foul. He even cared for most of them - the chickens have always been my thing, though.”

“What about the garden?” Bucky looked out the barn doors to the lush field full of greenery. The gentle rain was doing the day’s watering.

“That’s all me, too, but I only started gardening a few years ago.”

“Well, don’t sell yourself short. This is a lot of property, you’ve done a great job by yourself.” Bucky said as he opened the gate to the goat stall and stepped inside to examine the busted and rotting boards that needed replacing.

“I actually had a good bit of help.” She said as she leaned over the chick bin and pulled out the water dish. She went to the large sink near the workbench and began rinsing it of poop before she filled it back up. “After Gavin died, Steve came over and showed me the ins and outs of cows and goats for a month or two.”

That surprised him. Steve didn’t ever mention that.

“Yeah, and his friend, Nat, showed me how to garden.” Y/N put the water dish back and picked up the feed dish.

Bucky nodded to himself, “Nat has quite the green thumb for making gardeners.”

“That she does.” Y/N smiled as she returned the now full seed dish.

Bucky leaned over the gate and watched as Y/N tended to some seedlings that were on her work bench, spraying them with a squirt bottle. “So... can I ask what happened to Gavin?”

Y/N nodded but didn’t say anything and didn’t turn to face him, she just kept watering the little cupped sprouts.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s fine.” She turned to him with a somber look on her face. She took a deep breath and looked at Bucky. She wasn’t sure if she should say what she was thinking but, Gavin was dead, what was he gonna do about it?

“Gavin...was a jerk and a bully,” She started.

Bucky’s brows shot up but he kept listening.

“And what’s worse, he had no idea he was like that. He thought he was a great man- and sometimes, he was- but he had a habit of belittling people he didn’t agree with. It didn’t matter what, if he didn’t like it, you were stupid for thinkin’ it. He had his way of doing things and that was that, anything else wasn’t worth his time.” She crossed her arms and looked down at her boots. “I’m sure you’re wondering how I fell in love with a man like that but it was easy. I met him in high school. He wasn’t as bad then but I figure that’s because he was still growing and learning. It’s not an excuse, but he got it from his daddy. Compared to his dad, Gavin was a saint. Charles was as mean as he was stubborn and Gavin got the brunt of that growing up and he had no way of dealing with it other than doin’ the same stuff to other people. He didn’t do it to me until we were married and being that we were so young, I just thought it was a wife’s job to do what her husband said.”

Bucky swallowed and shifted his weight when she did the same, almost like they both broke out of the trance of story telling and listening.

“But there were good days. He wasn’t a monster. He could be really sweet, actually. He bought me the chickens after one of our fights, built me the fence around the garden after another. He never said sorry, he’d just build or buy me something. And I appreciated it. I really did love him.” Y/N suddenly realized that in her rant she’d never answered his question. She flushed, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go on about it. I guess I should get to it,” she chuckled.

Bucky smiled at her from his spot on the gate. “It’s fine.”

She took a deep breath. “Um, Gavin fancied himself a great driver, no matter his state. So, he went out with his friends one night and got plastered. He got in the car to come home and drove it into a tree at one hundred and ten.”

Bucky cursed.

Y/N nodded. “He at least had the decency to put me in the will when we got the house, so.” She shrugged her shoulders.

Bucky scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I’m sorry about all of that.”

She smiled at him and Bucky got the sense she was only doing it for his sake.

“I was too for a while. But I’m...happy, now.” Her smile seemed more genuine when she said that.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He grinned at her.

Y/N looked at him for a moment before turning back to her plants.

Bucky also got back to work and they spent most of the morning like that, just working in silence. Bucky was even able to finish the woodwork in under two hours before he fixed a few breaks in the goat field fence.

Around noon, Y/N invited him up to the house for lunch and after he declined twice, she finally insisted.

Bucky was happy to go.

* * * * * * *

Forever Tags:

@cassiopeiassky @sgtbxckybxrnes

@itsanerdlife @beccaanne814

@tanelle83 @artemis521

@elaacreditava @feelmyroarrrr

@palaiasaurus64 @the-stuttering-kiwi

@destiel-artemis @sexyvixen7

@girl-next-door-writes @coolest-avenger

@xoxabs88xox @youclickedthislink

@also-fangirlinsweden @widowvinter

@daughterofthenight117 @drayshadow

@archy3001 @miraclesoflove

Redcove Tags:

@cavillanche @bi-bucky-barnes

@mylifeiscrazy0423 @dumblani

@thefridgeismybestie @csigeoblue

@selluequestrian

(@comicshoplife @tessaem Ya’lls tags are not working, please make sure your account allows people to tag you)

#Bucky barnes x reader #reader x bucky barnes #bucky series #farmhand! AU #farmhand! Bucky #red cove harvest #i wrote this #iwillbeinmynest #Bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #romance

162 notes · View notes

sonders-bookshelf · 3 years

Text

BNHA Spring Break day 6- Injury

Ao3 link in the reblog!

Cw: a very brief fight scene, concussions.

This is a scene in a Vigilante Shinsou Au I've posted about before, and this takes place kinda in the middle of that

Things had been going so well.

It was just another nightly patrol, a few rooftops behind Eraserhead. They had stumbled upon a drug deal. It had seemed like a simple bust, only two people were there, and neither has an obvious quirk. They severely underestimated the two.

"You've stopped nothing, stupid heroes!!"

Eraser was restraining the other peeps, leaving him to the chatty one. Well, this was going to be easy.

"C'mon, don't you recognize me? I'm no hero." He winced at the distorted voice that came out. He really needed to get used to his voice modulater.

The man scoffs, muttering something under his breath. Puppeteer let himself grin, about to take control of the man, when something- someone- knocked into him from behind, breaking his concentration.

The two tumbled to the ground, and Puppeteer winced as his head banged into the ground with an audible crack.

"Shit, Puppet, you okay?" The man on top of him- not Eraser, based on how far his voice was- was dragged off of him. Puppeteer gave a thumbs up as Eraser restrained the other with his capture weapon (He assumed, but he was a bit preoccupied with the sharp pain in his head.)

Puppet eventually sat up, with blinding pain in his head. When he looked up again, there were only two other people in the alleyway. Shit. The man he was responsible for must've ran off when they were all preoccupied.

Eraser was standing in front of the other criminal, on the phone. Why would he need to call someone? ... Shit, right, the cops. If they were coming here, then that meant...

His eyes widened, and he hurried to stand, and was immediately hit with a throbbing pain. Shit, ow, bad choice. Sitting it is, then.

Eraser must've finished his phone call, because he was now crouched in front of him.

"You okay, kid?"

Shinsou- no, Puppet, fuck- nodded. His head protested any movement, but he looked up and gave Eraserhead a grin anyways.

... That was covered up by his new gear. Fuck.

Eraserhead stiffened when he looked up, eyeing the part of his head that hurt the most.

"Is that blood?" Puppet blinked at him for a moment, then raised a hand to his forehead, wincing and jerking his hand back. He glared at his hand, which was, in fact, covered in blood.

"Uh... No?"

Eraser cursed before (all to quickly) shoving a finger in front of Puppeteer's eyes

"Follow my finger with your eyes." He did what he was told, and Eraser sighed.

"You definitely have a concussion. You need to go to the hospital."

Oh, that was not happening. He went to shake his head, but thought better of it, instead saying: "Nuh-uh. No hospitals."

An exasperated look crossed Eraser's face. "And why the hell not?"

Puppet leveled him a look.

Eraser sighed. "Fine. But we need to get you out of here." He looked back at the man at the end of the alley (who was knocked out, how had he not realized sooner?)

There were sirens in the distance, but they had been going all night. They had no way of knowing how close the cops were.

Eraser stared at the man for another moment, contemplating something, before making a decision.

"Right." Eraser said, "the police will be here soon enough, we need to get out of here. Can you stand?

Puppet didn't need to try again to know that no, no he could not. He told Eraser as much.

Eraser sighed, looking around the alley, as if the dumpsters could give him a solution.

"I'm gonna make a few calls. Just sit still and stay awake." He didn't wait for a response as he took a step away, glancing back at him every so often, to make sure he was still awake.

Eventually, Eraser finished his phone calls and gently picked him up, carrying him out of the alleyway. It hurt too much to keep his eyes open, but he didn't want to close them either, so he shoved his face into Eraser's shoulder. He didn't have a clue where Eraser was taking him, but apparently it wasn't all on foot, because soon enough a car was pulled up beside them.

He heard the car door opening, and he was lowered into the seat.

"You alright kid?" He heard Eraser's voice from the front seat.

"Stellar." He mumbled, and the car ride was silent the rest of the way.

_____

That had to be the worst car ride of his life. His head was bursting with pain every bump or stop they hit. The music that was playing softly from the radio gave him a splitting pain, and the street lights that came into view periodically were making him wish he hadn't shifted over from the middle seat.

After what felt like hours of driving, the car parked, and he was carried into an unfamiliar (and far too bright) home.

Eraser dimmed the lights (And thank god for that,) setting him down on a particularly uncomfortable chair.

He frowned, and Eraser must be a mind reader because he said, "Can't having you get too comfortable. Chiyo will be here in a bit."

He furrowed his brows in confusion, and Eraser helpfully replied, "you'd know her as Recovery Girl."

His eyes blew wide. Recovery girl was one of the best support heroes out there, before she had retired from field work to work at U.A. He was buzzing at the thought of seeing her, but she didn't seem like the rule breaking type.

He gave a dubious look to Eraser, about to say as much when he was cut off. "She owes me a few favours. And besides, she has a soft spot for kids. She won't turn you in."

Puppet had a hard time believing him, but it's not like he had much of a choice.

He sighed, looking around the strange house. It was a quaint place. It seemed too well put together to be Eraser's house, so the driver's then? There were records lining the wall around a phonograph, which thankfully wasn't playing anything. There were succulents on the windowsill, and was that a cat?

The door opened, and a small elderly lady walked in. She seemed calm at first glance, but from the way she carried herself, she was very clearly not happy. She looked around the room, glancing at him before turning to Eraser.

"This is him?"

Eraser nodded, saying, "he has a concussion, as well as the cut on his forehead."

The woman- Recovery Girl, he reminded himself- tuts, walking towards him. "If this ever happens again, young man, you go to the hospital, do I make myself clear?"

He shifted, looking away sheepishly. "Yes ma'am."

"Alright. Do you have a bit of you that isn't covered up so that I can help you?"

He stalled for a second, confused, and Eraser spoke up behind him. "Her quirk, kid."

Shit, that was right. He was really out of it, huh? He stumbled over himself for a second before pulling off his glove and holding his hand out for her.

She kissed his hand, and a wave of lethargy hit him.

"Now, normally we would keep him under observation, but-"

"He can stay here for the night. Thank you, Chiyo."

"You're welcome. I expect he'll go to a hospital next time, but if not..."

"I'll call you." Eraserhead seemed determined to speak for him today, huh? Normally, he would oppose, but it was all he could do to not pass out as he made his way to the couch.

Besides, he thought, Eraser was safe.

#bnha spring break #Shinsou Hitoshi #Dadzawa #Hizashi is there and Erasermic is canon its just very Very Small Font #Recovery Girl #Vigilante Shinsou #my work #aizawa shouta #MHA #BNHA

20 notes · View notes

alittlenarnian · 4 years

Text

Songbird

Edmund x Reader; Soulmate au where whenever your soulmate sings, you hear their voice in your head. Reader is 19 and Edmund is 20. Set in a Modern Au, but the Pevensies have still been to Narnia.

Happy reading!

The idea of a soulmate always seemed wonderful to you. The idea that someone out there might be your perfect match, someone whose heart would feel like home, was just so romantic. People told stories of hearing their soulmates singing when they were streets, towns, even countries away. But not everyone had a soulmate. Not everyone who had one, met them. Not everyone who met them, ended up with them.

You? You’d never heard your soulmate sing. You weren’t sure how it worked, but you thought you might have at least heard a hum? A whistle? Anything?

So, after sixteen silent years, you’d come to terms with it. You just didn’t have a soulmate. A few years on, and you’d still never heard anything. You hardly thought about it now. Every once in a while one of your friends or cousins would finally meet their soulmate and you’d feel a pang of disappointment, but overall you didn’t mind.

You weren’t lonely. You had friends who loved you, a family who cared about you, and maybe someday you’d meet a nice guy who didn’t have a soulmate either, and you could settle down and be happy, even without a soulmate.

The best perk of not having a soulmate was that you could sing anytime, without being worried about annoying someone on the other end of some weird telepathic bond. So sing you did. Under your breath when you were working, loudly along with the radio in the car, show tunes in the kitchen when you were home alone, whenever someone said anything that reminded you of a song lyric, and just any time a song came to mind.

You were starting university today. You walk into your first class ten minutes early, and choose a seat next to a girl who looks your age and has a bright smile.

“Hey, can I sit here?”

“Oh, sure! Is it your first day too?”

“Yep! Nice to meet you. I’m Y/n.”

“Lucy. Lovely to meet you too.”

You and Lucy get to chatting, and soon you discover you have several other classes together, since you’re studying the same major.

“I guess we’ll just have to be study buddies!” Lucy says brightly.

After class, you and Lucy go and grab some lunch together. You’re talking about life, and about family. She tells you about her siblings. Peter, who has moved out, happily married to his soulmate; Susan, who’s off in America, writing; and Edmund, a year older than her and studying law. It isn’t long before soulmates come up. When she asks, you answer with no hesitation.

“I don’t have a soulmate.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve never heard a peep out of them. What about you? Do you have a soulmate?”

“I hear him humming sometimes,” she says smiling, “he has great taste in music.”

You smile, genuinely happy for her, and the conversation moves on.

Edmund has always thought the idea of a soulmate was nice in theory, but his is ALWAYS. SINGING. Literally every waking hour of the day. It was always like, one or two lines from a theme song from a kids show, or some obscure musical reference, or some lines from some annoyingly catchy song that would still be playing in his head hours after she’d stopped singing it. Sometimes she was just making up a song about what she was doing. He could be trying to work, study, take an exam, sleep, whatever. She never stopped.

He’d complained about it to his siblings many times, but they weren’t much help. Mine sounds like a dying chicken, Peter had laughed. Mine hardly ever makes a sound, Susan had said, it must be nice to know she’s there. Only Lucy had been sympathetic. But even she hadn’t really been that helpful. Maybe try singing to her? Asking her to be quiet when you need to concentrate?

Edmund wouldn’t though. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings or anything. And besides, he was sure his singing voice would come out terrible. Hers was so nice. She’d be disappointed to hear his, he was sure.

So he kept quiet.

Part of him didn’t even want to meet her. Some days he was so flippin’ annoyed at her he was sure he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from yelling at her if he met her; PLEASE SHUT UP FOR THE LOVE OF MERCY! Other times she’d be quiet for a week or two, and he’d be worried. Did something happen to her? But then she’d start up again and he’d wish he had enjoyed the break more.

You and Lucy were getting on famously. Three weeks into the semester and you already had a posse of friends thanks to her. That’s Lucy. She’s friendly and bright, and people can’t help being drawn to her. It isn’t long before she’s found her soulmate, and he does, in fact, have great taste in music. He’s good looking too.

You’re happy for her, you are, but you still feel that usual pang of disappointment.

Lucy catches the look on your face the morning after she found him.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. It must be hard seeing your friends find their people.”

“I’m really happy for you Lucy, believe me. I’ve long since accepted that I don’t have a soulmate, but sometimes I still feel…I don’t know. Sad?”

“It’s okay to feel that way. Just know that I’m here for you, okay? If you want, we could hang out after class, just the two of us? You could come over to mine and we can talk about boys, or we can avoid the topic altogether. But we’ll definitely make pancakes.” Lucy wiggled her eyebrows at you and you broke a smile. You could never say no to pancakes. You love making them almost as much as you love eating them.

So that’s how you come to be in Lucy’s kitchen, flipping pancakes and singing along to the Spotify playlist you and Lucy started back in the first week of semester. You hear the front door click, and a boy who must be Lucy’s brother steps inside, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

“Edmund! You’re home! We’re making pancakes, do you want some?” But Edmund was up the stairs before Lucy finished speaking. “Huh, he must have had a bad day, he’s usually king of sarcasm. And of eating pancakes.”

Edmund couldn’t believe it. His soulmate had been silent for a solid twenty-four hours, but she’d started up again just as he was leaving class. At least she’d had good timing this time. The shock had come when he’d walked in the front door and heard the music and that voice and it was coming from his kitchen. Even now he could hear the music, muffled by the distance and the closed door, but that voice was clear as day.

You and Lucy finish cooking the pancakes, and she goes upstairs to invite Edmund down to eat. I’m sure pancakes will cheer him up, she says. Besides, we didn’t really think this through. We’ve made way too many just for the two of us, and they’re always better fresh. She was right, of course. There was no way you two could eat all those pancakes.

The whole time Edmund is at the table, he’s a blushing mess. Lucy’s confused, because even when he’s had a rough day, he’s usually such a put-together person. He’s witty and sarcastic, and although he’s introverted, he’s usually fine around new people. You have to be when you’ve grown up as royalty.

Over pancakes, Edmund is finally able to take a better look at you. If you were Lucy’s friend, he guesses, you must be alright; she is an excellent judge of character. And you’re cute too. He doesn’t know what to do. He knows you’re his soulmate, but you don’t, and what’s he supposed to say? Oh hey, Lucy’s friend who I’ve only just met. I know you’ve never heard me sing, but I’m your soulmate, trust me. Nope. Not going to happen.

As you’re eating, you’re taking sneaky glances at Lucy’s brother. He’s a mess, sure, but a really cute one. You silently wonder if he has a soulmate.

After you’ve left later that afternoon, Lucy enters Edmund’s room, standing in the doorway and folding her arms.

“What was up with you this afternoon? I’ve never seen you blush so much.”

Edmund sighs. He knew this was coming. Rubbing his eyes, he says quietly, “I think she’s my soulmate.” Lucy’s eyes widen. “I know-” he begins, but Lucy cuts him off.

“WHY THE HECK DIDN’T YOU SAY ANYTHING???? AND WHY HAVEN’T YOU SUNG ANYTHING??? SHE THINKS SHE DOESN’T HAVE A SOULMATE I HAVE TO CALL HER STRAIGHT AWAY!” Lucy pulls out her phone, but Edmund springs up and grabs the phone off her.

“You can’t! I mean…shouldn’t I be the one to tell her? She is, you know, my soulmate, after all.”

“Okay, fine, but you have to tell her soon.”

The next day, Lucy is barely on time to class, and as she sits down next to you, she’s smiling at you with this knowing look in her eyes. You’re confused, but just then your professor walks in and begins her lecture, and you shelve your questions. You’ll have to ask her later.

You corner Lucy after class. She’s a giggling, smiling mess, but you can’t get anything out of her. She promised not to tell you, and she’s a girl of her word, so she doesn’t.

She just asks if you think her brother is cute instead.

You splutter. “What? Do I-what’s going on, Lucy?”

“Nothing!”

“Does he not have a soulmate either? Does he think I’m cute? Come on Lucy, out with it!” But Lucy is walking away in a fit of giggles, saying something about it not being her place to tell.

A few days later, Lucy is wearing the same mischievous smile when she asks you to come over to help her with some homework after your last class of the day. You narrow your eyes, but it’s Lucy. Whatever she’s up to you know it can’t be all that bad.

Your suspicion that this has something to do with her question the other day is confirmed when Lucy talks about Edmund the whole. way. home. By the time you turn down Lucy’s street you’ve heard all about how brilliant a leader he was in high school, and what a great big brother he is, and how witty and smart he is, and how great he is with a sword (which strikes you as a strange talent for a 20-year-old from Finchley, but you can’t deny it sounds pretty cool).

Then you’re walking up the front path, and Lucy hands you her key.

“I’m just going to nip around the back way. There’s something I need to check on. Go on inside, I’ll be there in a moment.”

Lucy is grinning, and you give her a look that says, really? You think you’re slick? But you take the key anyway and when you unlock the door, surprise! There’s Edmund, holding a bunch of flowers and looking nervous, though not quite the level of nervous wreckage as he was the last time you saw him. You shake your head and laugh.

“Lucy gave it away, didn’t she?” he asks, laughing nervously.

“She’s not exactly subtle. She talked about you the whole way home. All good things, though.”

“Oh no. I’ll have to talk to her about that. She’s gone and set your expectations way too high.”

“Why? Are you not really that good with a sword?”

“She told you that?!”

You both laugh, and you take a moment to calm down before you gesture at the flowers.

“So you don’t have a soulmate either?”

“Uh, that’s not exactly it,” he says. At the puzzled look on your face, he explains. He explains how he hears the lovely voice of his soulmate singing, and he tries not to sound annoyed when he says, every gotdang minute of the day. Then he explains what he heard the other day on the way home from work, and how shocked he was to hear it in person when he walked into his kitchen.

Your mouth hangs open as you stare into the face of the soulmate you didn’t think you had, and when he stops talking the question on your mind falls out your mouth.

“Why have I never heard you sing?”

Edmund smirks. “I think you sing enough for the both of us.”

“Heh heh, sorry.” You grin at him.

Edmund asks you to stay for dinner, and of course you agree. You get to talking, and just like you’d dreamed when you were little, before you’d become convinced you didn’t have a soulmate, your hearts connected. He felt like home already, having only met him a week ago, and only really talking for a few hours.

You’re sitting close to one another on the porch swing out back looking up at the stars when you look at him and ask,

“But seriously, why do you never sing?”

#every gotdang minute of the day #Edmund #edmund pevensie #king edmund the just #edmund x reader #edmund x reader soulmate au #soulmate au #narnia soulmate au #narnia #The Chronicles of Narnia #narnia fanfic

169 notes · View notes

loftec · 3 years

Note

what do u think about the new episode? because i personally fucking hate it :) i hate shameless, the only thing i care about right now is fic 😔

Same, my friend. I have been thinking about what to say or not to say about this for over a week and every time I've sat down to just type something out, I haven't been able to articulate anything. But I have so much to say, so I will try.

Now, if you (reading this, right now) are one of the lucky peeps who like this season and what it's got going for Ian and Mickey, so far... then maybe skip this rant. I honestly don't want to drag you down with my criticism. It's so ok to peacefully enjoy something without having to listen to people being crabby about the thing you love. Pax vobiscum.

That said.

(Crabby rant under cut.)

But if you're like me, kinda hurt and let down for the very last time, please stay a while. I'll tell you why I'm like this, and why I'm no longer angry, just disappointed.

Here's the thing, the first episode wasn’t any fun for me, but I quite enjoyed the second! It was the kind of low-stakes close-knit family stuff I want from a Shameless episode. Literally all they have to do to keep me happy is cram a bunch of Gallaghers into a kitchen and let them talk to each other for five minutes. I'm very easy to please. I like Sandy, I like what she does for Debbie's character. I like Tami, I like that Lip seems a lot happier. I like Liam, someone please take care of the boy. I like that Carl has a goal, and that he's all grown up. I like that Ian and Mickey are married and that they're a part of this family again. It’s a nice vibe, we’re having a party for Franny and it’s not perfect, but we learned something and we’re having fun. It’s fine.

On the whole, it’s nice. But for someone whose main priority is Ian and his significant other, it’s the same old bullshit all over again.

In seasons 1-5, I'm pretty sure Ian and Mickey only had like three conversations with each other that weren't plot relevant. But it was fine, it's en ensemble cast and Fiona, Lip and Frank got most of the A plots. Ian and Mickey had a lot of serious stuff going on, so the 5 minutes they got to do something each week had to be used dealing with all the shit they had to deal with. It's fine. This is fine. It's fine. I understand how TV works. We cut in on them in the middle of a conversation about Jean-Claude Van Damme, and I understand that they've spent the whole evening together and that they've talked about other things as well. Silly, inconsequential things, things people talk about when they like each other and want to be close and get to know each other. And when we're dropped in the middle of Ian, Mickey and Svetlana playing house in 5x1, I understand that it has been a period of time since we saw them last, and that things have changed. That they have talked about some things, and not talked about some things. And I happily played along and filled in all the gaps, I did the work; I imagined them together on a good day, on a calm evening lounging on the couch, on a lazy morning sleeping in. Quiet breakfasts, lively dinners. I imagined what they would say to each other, what they would talk about and what they still couldn't talk about. I did the work because it felt like it was worth it, because I knew that the story they were focusing on (Ian's illness and Mickey coming into his own) were worth it. That they needed every second they could get to tell the story of a mentally ill teenager and his abuse survivor boyfriend learning to love and support each other, and get better and grow up on their own terms.

I, the fool, kept thinking that one day. One day it would get better and they would get a break and the show would give them a minute, just a minute here and there, to be happy. Have a conversation that we could get in on. Have one good day for us to witness, and not just imagine.

Instead they broke them up for production reasons, for behind the scenes bullshit, for no reason at all, other than the simple fact that the show runners have never once cared about Ian and Mickey as much as we have. As much as Cam and Noel have. They had no qualms about rewriting a whole season's arc to make no sense in the last minute. They had no issues with throwing a beloved character in prison and leaving him there for a season and a half (which could have been good storytelling... if not every single Gallagher to ever get locked up had some lucky thing happen to spring them out again way before they’ve done their time). They had no problem with letting Ian say and do one thing one minute and then the exact opposite the next.

I think the thing that truly made me give up on the show at that time was the tattoo. We had such precious few things to work from when trying to understand these characters and we did our very best. We took the crumbs and we built a whole castle of cake. And one of the cornerstones, one of the first fucking things we ever knew about Mickey Milkovich, was that he could spell the name "Ian Gallagher". And if they wanted to give him a bad tattoo, they still could have. Maybe he did it himself and got it wrong because of the angle. Maybe there was a miscommunication and whoever did it on him got the name wrong. But no, they had to have him sit there and claim that he didn't know how to spell his boyfriend's name. It was so petty, so mean-spirited, such a massive fuck-you to anyone who dared to care and retain the things they'd previously told us about Mickey, I just had to stop caring about canon. I drew a line for myself around the canon I could understand as emotionally consistent, and ignored anything that landed on the other side of it. Perhaps not the best way to watch a TV show, but then I also stopped watching the show. So it worked out.

Anyway, this wasn't supposed to be about the first five seasons. But I'm obviously still bitter, and I wanted to explain why I'm well past the point of chasing after crumbs. Because it’s still the same bullshit, only now they’ve exchanged important, nuanced storylines about coming out and getting better for... I don’t know. Talking about sex and arguing about money.

Here is an incomplete list of loftec’s crumbs of disappointment, so far:

Ian and Mickey have been married for 6 (?) months, and the writers will have you believe they still have not had a conversation.

Ian is still relegated to C-plots (only now he's sometimes allowed in the background of an A plot, which is fun I guess but still not near what he deserves after all these years).

Meanwhile, Lip got two separate extended scenes detailing how he tricks his girlfriend into spending less money, in the first episode. That’s so much airtime spent on one point. In the second episode, he had a casual conversation with his baby! Ian and Mickey haven't had a casual conversation about anything since fucking never!

Ian and Mickey have talked about sex and money, so far. Nothing else. Important things, I'm sure. But let's compare this with Lip in the same episode. Lip and Tami wake up together, they get to be sweet to each other, talk about their lives and daily routine, they have a chat about coffee and someone they know who is having a hard time, then they get into the subject of their conflict du jour. Ian and Mickey get a weird allusion to how much sex they're having (so much sex you guys, just believe and it will come true!) and then they're arguing about jobs and money. For two whole episodes. Except that one time where they got derailed and accidentally talked about monogamy instead.

Monogamy. Something they haven’t talked about before. And apparently a word Mickey doesn’t understand, or know how to spell.

And it still feels so petty, because it's just. So specific. They could have chosen any of the magnificent character traits of Mickey's that they teased us with in the first five seasons, and this is the thing they pick? And then turn into a main character trait?? Mickey can't spell. Mickey doesn't understand words. Haha ha. And I'm not purposefully misunderstanding this scene, I promise. I understand what they were trying to do. I most certainly understand what Noel acted his ass off to convey. I am not here freaking out about Mickey wanting to be with other people, or Ian saying this or doing that. I'm not worried about them cheating or getting a divorce. I'm just really disappointed that this is where we are now.

That Mickey, who we all saw through and understood to be smart and loyal, quick on his feet and quippy as anything, has been reduced to this. I'm pretty sure he's had his hand down his pants in half the scenes he's been in so far. I don't know what that means, but it's like... a choice. And I don't like this choice. They could have had an insecure conversation about monogamy and money and we could have gone on this journey with them as they struggle with their inability to communicate and I would have been all for it, if it had been written with something more, anything else, something to break through the plump humor and crass approach to this marriage that Ian spent half of the last season trying to have a conversation about! But never got to, because the writers thought it would be funnier to have Mickey punch Ian in the face and run off with some guy, rather than talk to him!

Also, I know this is getting outrageously long, but the fighting. The fighting is another thing. Who here watched that scene in 3x9 where Ian tries to get Mickey to be honest with him and Mickey kicks him in the face rather than admit he's gay, and thought, hey! Guys being guys, am I right? Who here watched that scene in 5x10 when Ian punched Mickey in the face because he didn't know how to accept care from someone who loves him and wanted to feel a feeling, and thought; oh yes, this is just how they communicate! This is fine! I know I didn't. But sure, why not. It's a choice, I guess. They're just manly men, and manly men fight with their significant others. They beat the shit out of each other, no problem. This is not something we need to have a conversation about, not at all.

This is about writing. They easily could have written Ian and Mickey’s scenes differently. They could have had incidental bits of conversation, hinting at their lives outside of this conflict they’re having. They could have been in the background of someone else’s scene, just a quick gesture of something nice that would help flesh out the bits in between. They could have conversations and storylines about pretty much anything, and still bring up the question of monogamy and Mickey’s residual insecurities about Ian’s past infidelity. They could have been subtle about it, instead of writing a clown scene where Mickey acts like a clown and Ian doesn’t remember that he’s done a lot of shit in their past that they maybe need to talk about. Because they still haven’t talked about it? NOT ONCE? THEY WERE IN THE SAME CELL FOR MONTHS! AND NOT A SINGLE CONVERSATION WAS HAD. THIS IS FINE. I’M FINE.

I get it. This is supposed to be a fun show about whacky characters. It's supposed to be outrageous, the show runners and writers are choosing these things to get a reaction. I get it, and I don't like it and if you think this means that I should stop watching the show and shut up, then I agree with you.

But also, I love these characters and this community, and I want to like this season. Our last season. I want to watch it and still hope that Ian and Mickey will get to have a conversation about nothing special, just because they like each other, before it's over.

And if not, there is always fic. And you know I will be making them talk to each other in NTW until there are no words left.

#I want you to read this rant in hbomberguy's voice #please and thank you #would you believe me if I said this is the short version?#oh wow #i just scrolled up and realised how long this got #i'm sorry #don't read this #it's terribly silly and I should go to bed #Anonymous

25 notes · View notes

alpaca-writes · 3 years

Text

Mystics, Chapter 30

Sorry for the impromptu hiatus, I became pretty busy these last few weeks -and in addition I had little inspo to continue as of late- but never fear! Mystics is back on the road and I plan to finish the first draft of this story by the end of August! (Here’s hoping!)

Xx. - Alpaca

Read Chapters 1-29 and more HERE

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror, @livingforthewhump

CW: Not much to warn about for this one! Just some discussion of future mutilation to come :)

--------------------------------------

CHAPTER THIRTY: VOW AND PROMISE

“He didn’t.”

“I am telling you, Persephone, Lyrem must have put Rosanna in the Labyrinth. Who else would have been so callous? So evil?”

“He would never,” she stamped her foot making her stance known. “Lyrem would have loved his own child more than life itself. I saw into his memories and I guarantee you, Charlotte, that it was my half-brother’s doing.”

Charlotte raised a finger toward the goddess. “Hold on- who is your half-brother?”

Persephone sighed and then muttered nearly out of ear-shot, “who isn’t my half-brother…”

Persephone took a step back. There was a lot that Charlotte didn’t know and in the midst of explaining the Pan/ Paimon conundrum, Charlotte stopped her.

“Arthur told me about the demon, Persephone.”

“He’s a diabolical thing- I call Pan a demon all the time”-

“No- Arthur thinks that Pan is a demon. He’s walking in there with holy water as a weapon and my crucifix in his pocket!”

Persephone’s eyes grew a little wider. “… Oh, oh right...” she peeped.

“So, what you’re saying is that my child is currently not just stuck with that venomous creep, Lyrem, but they are also being held hostage by a sadistic malevolent God,” Charlotte surmised, “and for some reason you and… Hades the God of the Underworld, sent my very mortal, very human brother to save them without any help at all?”

The booming voice of Hades came down from somewhere above to justify the logic of the situation.

“Well, you see, our souls are larger than the souls of mortal humans, dear little thing. It is easier for Pan to shut the door on beings like myself and Persephone. Mortals like you are like ants… or termites: they squeeze in through the cracks of our realms and cause a mess here and there without care for us. I gave Arthur just a touch of my power to stand a fighting chance of releasing Apollo from his prison there. Once he does, Pan will likely be unable to defend his claim on our territory.”

Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “Did you just call me a termite?”

Hades fell silent, using the fact that he was unseen to his advantage and pretended to have not heard the woman. Charlotte shook her head in the attempt to clear it.

“How can I believe that Pan won’t simply snap his fingers and kill Arthur? Or Arch? And what exactly is your goal here? To leave? Once you escape, how can I be certain that my child and my brother exit the Underworld alive?!”

“Once we are released, we will be allowed back into the Underworld, and we will punish Pan for his crimes against your family and humanity itself,” Persephone explained as Charlotte advanced on her like a predator. “Right, Uncle?”

“Of course,” Hades confirmed.

Charlotte took their words lightly, knowing she had little advantage in the position she held.

“I don’t trust you- either of you! You act as though people are just little toys- pawns to observe and to order around! Arch isn’t safe in your hands anymore than they are in Pan’s. Of that much, I am certain”-

“There’s no reason to further explain our position on the matter,” Hades boomed, sounding for the first time uneasy and somewhat offended. “Persephone, just ignore the termite. We shall wait for Apollo to open a way through for us.”

Persephone’s gaze fell from the woman and into the darkness as she battled her conscience. She opened her mouth to speak, and then hesitated, wondering if Hades was right; if she should listen to her uncle. She eyed Charlotte carefully as a pang of guilt struck her through like a sword. The mother’s anger was understandable. She had lost her child without any indication to whether they were alive or safe. The situation was strikingly familiar; Persephone found herself wondering if her own mother had tried searching for her, and fought gods with the same passionate rage as Charlotte was now. She would have been honoured if Demeter had done anything of the sort. Running away from Mount Olympus without a word to anyone was a very cruel thing to do- whether or not it was to a trusted family member. Persephone saw that now, clear as ever.

“Charlotte, Mother of Arch,” Persephone addressed her and then gulped. “You have my word that your family will be protected and will leave the Underworld unharmed”-

Hades’ voice came scolding from above. “Persephone…”

“-this I vow.”

From underneath the shoulder of her dress came winding down a string of vines.

“I serve my own essence as sacrifice upon the condition that”-

“Persephone!” Hades growled, interrupting her, “a deal such as this is not to be taken so lightly!”

Charlotte rose her head to watch the blooming white flowers spring from Persephone’s arm and grow down to her fingers with poisonous thorns to ward off any who would try to remove her power from her. The vines began to wither and die from her shoulders down, killing the flowers as Hades forced her hand. In a snap decision, Persephone plucked the last remaining flower from the tips of her fingers. Hades had tried to work quickly, but it was not enough.

“There!” Persephone grasped Charlotte’s hand, with her own, giving the woman the flower to hold. Now you can’t say anything, Uncle.”

Hades audibly huffed in disappointment. “You stupid child!”

Charlotte stared down at the flower, wondering what it all meant.

“Everything I am is in that blossom,” Persephone said boldly, and terrified, “If Arch is not returned safely to you and to Earth- if Arthur isn’t returned safely and to Earth, then… you can choose whether or not I continue living as a goddess.”

Charlotte blinked. She expected to have some sort of leverage- maybe get something in writing, but this was beyond what she had expected to receive as collateral.

“You can’t trust a mortal with your essence, Persephone!” Hades continued to berate. “They are sneaking, and conniving! You have no idea what this one will do with it!”

“She can’t use it, Uncle.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Then you had better help her save her child then, and her brother,” Persephone advised, feeling more powerful with every word, “otherwise, Charlotte will turn me into one of your loathsome termites… Won’t you?” she turned.

Charlotte cupped the flower gently in her hand, “what about Rosanna?”

Persephone nodded somberly. “We will try our best to help you find her as well.”

Hades was thankful yet again for his unseen nature as he contemplated what he would have to tell Zeus and Demeter about the poor decisions their daughter had made under his care. How did a simple Pan-esque prank become a life and death situation for a goddess? And for the sake of a few measly mortals, no less! There was nothing to be done about it now. Charlotte had Persephone’s essence in her hand. As he watched the women make their bargain with life, the flower petals melded into Charlotte’s palm.

It tickled, and then ached as the flower solidified beneath her skin. Charlotte felt the area, seemingly no different than before besides a small outline of the six petals. She looked back at Persephone, who was looking a bit humbled by the experience, and now seemed rather discouraged by the cautionary words spewed by her most trusted of family.

“Thank you,” Charlotte swallowed back any more show of emotion. “Now… Is there anything we can do to help Arch? To help Arthur?”

“No! We are stuck here until we have Apollo!” Hades grew sick and tired of repeating himself.

“Unfortunately, he is right,” Persephone concurred.

Charlotte huffed, with her hands on her hips, staring daggers at the goddess.

Persephone gulped, “but, we can start a plan to find Rosanna, I suppose.”

Charlotte nodded, “that’s better.”

------------------------------

Meanwhile, in the Underworld,

“Just relax,” Paimon crooned.

“Relax?! You lied to me. I’m not becoming any stronger, am I?” Arch’s anger was getting the better of them- overpowering even their fear.

“Now, now, I didn’t lie to you,” Paimon countered, controlling his own temperament. “I asked difficult things of you, and in return I promised to reward you. Doesn’t that seem fair?”

“Not when you can just take it away and give it back at will! Lyrem said you weren’t a demon either so what the hell are you?”-

“Lyrem says a lot of things. It does not matter- and it will not matter, very soon. Just relax, now.” Paimon held their shoulders down as Arch sat in the desk chair. Keeping them still was important. “I am not as talented in the memory department as most of my kin are, so if you struggle up here”- he tapped their forehead with a couple fingers. “-then I may take away your ability to speak, or dance, or enjoy rom-coms. That doesn’t sound very pleasant, now, does it?”

Arch glared at him with their jaw clenched tight. They held back.

“No,” they reluctantly agreed. “But… what if I don’t want to forget?”

Paimon tsked at them. “Nobody wants to forget,”-

“No, I mean,” they tried to clarify. Paimon looked like he wasn’t going to be willing to give them much time. “What if… I still want to work with you?”

Paimon stopped himself from raising his hand to their head. He looked at them skeptically and considered their words.

“Despite knowing what you know?” he asked.

Arch nodded.

“Look, I am pissed that you lied, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t make this work. I still want power, but I want to have a clear arrangement, you know?” They continued, noticing the change in Paimon’s demeanour. He was considering the offer. “I don’t want to be kept in the dark- if the power is yours and I borrow it from time to time, then I’m happy with that- I just want to know things.”

Paimon raised hand to his mouth and backed away to contemplate. Idly, he fiddled with the discman and headphone set on the desk.

“Just let me know things. That’s all I ask.” The voice repeated behind him.

“And what about our mutual friend?”

“Lyrem?”

Paimon nodded, turning to them.

Arch scratched at their nose.

“I think Lyrem needs to retire.” They stated.

“And… your uncle? Your mother?”

Their scratching nails found the back of their neck. They thought of Charlotte’s disappearance, and Arthur’s insistence to help them get out of the mess they had found themselves in.

But Arch knew better than to assume everything could return to normal. Uncle Arty didn’t know that what they had become. He didn’t know that they had started flaying people alive, and dismembering bodies, and removing human hearts to eat them. There was no way to go back to who they were. Not now. It was for the best if they became a distant memory.

“I never want to see them ever again,” they replied.

Paimon feigned a sympathetic pout and wrapped a comforting arm around their shoulder. No nails dug into their flesh, no threats followed, but instead-

“I promise, you’ll never have to see them ever again,” he spoke reassuringly, and then added, “Not if you do one last thing for me.”

Arch nodded, “alright, name it.”

“I have made a deal with Lyrem- he doesn’t believe you to be strong enough yet to take over for him when he is gone.” Paimon started. “If you can show him that you are skilled enough- ruthless enough- to replace him then his empire is yours- oh, and it will be mine as well, I suppose. I know you want everything to be straightforward.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Arch stood themselves up, and walked through the room. “And how do I prove myself?”

“You’ll carve out a heart for him,” Paimon grinned, “without any help, in under five minutes”-

“That doesn’t seem too hard”-

“-and blindfolded.”

Their dark brows knit together, suspiciously studying the satyr.

“Straightforward,” Arch broached. “Who am I carving?”

Paimon waved a hand. “Oh, there is need for you to be concerned with”-

“Is it Lyrem? I bet it’s Lyrem.”

Paimon paused, sighed, and cocking his head at them, he wagged his finger. “I told him you were quick!”

Arch shrugged with their usual sideways smirk.

“I am pretty smart, aren’t I?” they boasted. “Hey, can I listen to some tunes while I do it? Personally, I don’t like all the screaming and crying.”

Paimon picked up the discman without hesitation and handed it over to them.

Arch smiled, accepting it. “Cool.”

3 notes · View notes