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ronnieiswriting · 3 years

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Sweet Dreams- Boxer!Paz x Baker!Freader

Inspired by the events of Foul (following straight after) and the Boxer Din AU created and written by the wonderful, amazing, brilliantly talented @djarinsbeskar! WC: 1,641 Tags: 18+, mentions of smut, its a smutty AU ya'll know the drill, sickeningly sweet fluff I have been driven to write this to deal with all my Paz thots- it will become very clear that I make up for the fact that I can't write hot smut by writing the softest shit. Excuse the lack of editing, also, its quite the mess x

After Din had stormed off with his “not-girlfriend” at Avika, Paz was more than ready to go home right then and there, thoroughly unwanting to deal with the feral frenzy that Din had stirred up in and out the ring. But there was no doubt that there would be more calls for blood. And even if that weren’t the case- even if Din wasn’t on the lists tonight- Paz had to stay.

It was his job after all. And one he enjoyed more often than not.

But when he thought about you, Paz’s priorities became trivial- like dust in the wind.

He hadn’t been dating you for long but he already knew that he was in deep. To Paz, you were the one that hung the stars in the sky; you, a hardworking baker with a smile that made his heart ache and hips that made his cock twitch. It was love, the realest he’d ever found, and every day he swore his gratitude to whatever force had sent him to you.

It was almost a taunt to watch Din leave Avika with his “not-girlfriend” tucked into his side- he’d been disqualified from any more fights that night but he couldn’t look any less content about it- when Paz had to stay behind with nothing but the thoughts of you waiting for him back at his place to keep him company.

To pass a bit of time between the words that were being exchanged between Boba and Din’s opponent’s trainer, Paz checked his phone- his mood instantly brightened when he saw a notification from you.

From: Sugar Cookie💖

Hey babe, I just got home. Did you feed Kitty yet? He’s begging me for food rn but I know he’s probs got a full belly and is just being a little gobble guts lol. sent 4:13am

I gave him a tinyyy bit of kibble to hold him over in case you didn’t. Kitty knows I can’t resist him. Sorry for messaging you at work btw. I know you’re busy xx Love you xx sent 4:19am

Paz checked the current time. 5:30am. Shit. He must’ve missed the buzz of the notification amidst the chaos. Usually, your shifts at the bakery ended closer to midnight but he knew you to be a hard worker, proud of the bakery you ran by yourself, and always likely to get caught up in a task until it was done to a high standard. It was just another thing for Paz to love about you.

His thumbs hovered over the reply box; you had probably already gone to bed, exhausted from your own long day of work. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb you but he pushed past that doubt a second later, typing out a response, softened when he reread your messages about his kitten.

“Vizsla!” Boba’s voice pulled him back into reality. “Are you listening at all? This does concern you.”

Paz managed an easy half-lie, fingers tapping away as he switched contacts and began typing another message, “I’m sending Din a text- trying to figure out what started all this.”

…

When Paz finally did get home it was pushing 8am. Expecting to find you curled up in his bed, comfortably asleep, he was shocked to see you as soon as he opened the door to his apartment. You were propped up against a wall of cushions on his couch with a book resting in your lap and his kitten snoozing on your chest. Head thrown back and peacefully still, he could tell you were fast asleep.

Just the sight of you, the shape of your body outlined by the drape of the blanket that was thrown over you, your features illuminated by the warm light of the lamp, the splay of your hair over the pillows- just looking at you relieved him of so much of the stress he had carried home. His eyes traced over your form, picking out the dip and curve of your hips, and he was struck again with the amount of love he had for you. He still couldn’t believe how quickly he had developed such deep feelings for you but that fact made them no less sincere. The softness and simple intimacy (whether that be primarily sexual or emotional) that your company alone promised never ceased to amaze him.

Trying to be as quiet as he could manage, Paz shut the door behind him, put his backpack down by the door, and crossed the room to kneel down at your side. He considered leaving you there for the rest of the night- if he did he could go take a nap and then come back and wake you up by eating you out before making you breakfast- but ultimately he wanted to, needed to sleep next to you… and he couldn’t manage that on the couch.

He got the best sleep when you stayed the night, your chest made a far better pillow and your arms though relatively small provided him with so much warmth that he would be more than content to sleep without any covers (which happened sometimes when you hoarded the blankets).

Paz let out a silent sigh and reached out to stroke the hair away from your face. You stirred in response and he leaned in to press a kiss to your nose, “Hey, baby, it’s just me.”

You let out a soft moan, eyes scrunching up before blinking open, looking up at him blearily, “Paz~”

His heart could have burst at the sound of your gentle voice laden with sleep. Carefully so as not to disturb your place, Paz eased the book from your fingers. The exhaustion was palpable on your face, the weight of many hours of work pulling at the edges of your eyes. “I thought you’d be in bed by now.”

You eased yourself up on the cushions, one hand bracing the kitten against your chest. “I wanted to stay up for you. I didn’t mean to doze off.” Fuck. Paz was slipping his arms under you faster than you could process and when he stood you were tucked against his chest, kitten, blanket and all. You didn’t even seem bothered by the shift, curling your fingers into the neckline of his shirt. The simple touch drove him wild- the burn of your warm skin against his throat like a blowtorch- and the fact that you seemed oblivious to that only made him ache for you more.

When he had gotten you halfway to the bedroom you spoke again in that voice that threatened sleep, “I would've been able to stay up for you if I didn’t have to spend three hours on a last minute order for a wedding cake.”

Paz opened the door with his hip. “You don’t have to say yes to every job you know.”

“I know- but the couple was so sweet, I couldn’t say no. Plus they paid me double and half on top because of the short notice.”

He laid you out on the bed and replaced the throw blanket with his thick quilt, kitten moving to curl up beside your head on the pillow. The comfortable setting was luring you quickly to sleep again but you were still determined to see him next to you before you shut your eyes again fully. When he didn’t immediately join you, you frowned.

Paz eased the crease in your brow with a kiss there, “Don’t pout, sweetheart. I just gotta take a shower.” He could have skipped one for now, knowing you wouldn’t protest his sweaty skin, but he wanted to be rid of the flecks of blood that had stuck to him, everything that had stuck to him from that ring, before he touched you. You started to protest but Paz silenced you with a searing kiss to your lips, “I won’t be long, I promise.”

If he had thought you would be back asleep by the time he finished he was fooling himself. You scooched backwards on the mattress and petted the space you made in front, “come here.”

Paz went willingly, instantly. He eased back the covers and shuffled in next to you, clad only in a pair of boxers, hands instantly finding your skin to greedily palm the warmth that radiated from you. You cozied up to him just as naturally, arms wrapping around his neck so that he could tuck his face against the crook of your neck. With the covers pulled over the both of you, Paz felt surrounded by your presence and it calmed any remaining stress he had.

Although he had reprimanded Din for taking a violent approach to defending a woman’s honor, Paz couldn’t deny the fact that he’d be just as likely to take a similar action if anyone spoke about you like that- just thinking about those vile, entitled words directed at you made his jaw clench subconsciously. And yet just as soon as that anger stirred up in him, it dissipated again, soothed by the thump of your heart against his chest and the delicate fan of air you puffed over his damp skin.

He was reminded of the first time he told you he loved you; not long ago, in the middle of a good hard fuck when he had you by the hip, lost in the emotion of your eyes to the point where his confession had come out as a babble that became a mantra that he punctuated with each thrust of his hips. You had been on the verge of tears then, overstimulated and shaking, when you returned the words to him from your own lips: I love you too.

“I love you.” Paz whispered.

You snuggled against him tighter, a sleepy sigh escaping you when his hands ran up and down your sides. “I love you too.”

#the mandolorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #paz vizla au #paz vizla #paz vizsla #paz vizla x reader #paz vizla x you #paz viszla #paz x reader #paz vizsla x reader #the mandalorian modern au #boxer!paz #baker!reader #boxer au #ronnie's actual writing

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aliwritesfic · 3 years

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The Night Shift part 5 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Quick summary: You learn the meaning behind Frankie's nickname

Warnings: None, I think, please let me know if I need to add some <3

W/C: 1.7k

Spotify (mainly just vibes, some songs have meaning, also updated regularly)

Part 1 Part 6

The smell of cooking bacon made your stomach growl as you entered the diner on Tuesday evening. You hadn’t eaten much all day, just a piece of toast and a handful of stale cheerios. Frankie was in the kitchen, his back to you. Your throat dried at the sight of him, remembering what you had done and how you had fantasized about him only a few hours earlier.

“Hi, Frankie,” you said, pushing thoughts of what you wanted him to do with his hands out of your mind. Stop being such a hornbag! You scolded yourself. Then he set those dark brown eyes on you and your brain ceased to function. Could he see your secret written on your face?

“Hey,” he said, smiling up at you. “You look tired.”

You almost sighed in relief. Maybe he couldn’t tell at all. You grabbed the coffee pot and poured yourself a cup. “I didn’t sleep much today. I was . . . worried about the kitten.” It wasn’t a whole lie; you really were worried about the kitten. The vet hadn’t sent you any updates, and you hoped that was a good thing.

“Are you gonna keep the kitten, if she lives?” Frankie flipped eggs as he spoke and set up a couple of plates.

“I can’t,” you grimaced, “Kurt would never go for it. He’s not really a fan of pets.”

Frankie made a face. “Not even adorable kittens?”

“Not even then,” you sighed. “It’s fine, though. It’s not like I have the time to properly care for one. I’m here most nights and I’m so busy with housework during the day when I’m not sleeping that it just- it just wouldn’t work.”

You kept your tone light, aware that customers could be listening. You didn’t want to scare off any tips with how miserable the subject made you. Frankie seemed to understand, because he didn’t bring the subject back up.

You were surprised at how easily you two worked together. Completely in sync when you had to be, entire sentences seemed to be translated through quick looks and raised eyebrows. This guy is a serial complainer. Want me to do something about those frat boys? Can you pretty please make me one of whatever this lady’s having?

All too soon it was 5:30 and the morning crew was there, breaking the comfortable silence between you. You found yourself lingering again, although you weren’t sure what for. You didn’t exactly need to stay. But still.

~*~

Frankie was shocked to see you still there. He was pulling his keys out of his jacket pocket when he saw you, standing outside, shivering in the early spring air.

“Thought’d you’d be halfway home by now,” he said, but he was still pleased to see you. He had come to the conclusion last night that you had a boyfriend, he would respect that and not make any untoward moves on you. Friendship suited him fine, even if he did think your boyfriend was a bit of a freak for not wanting a pet.

“I wanted to ask you something,” you said.

“Go ahead,” Frankie prompted.

“How’d you get the nickname Catfish?”

At this, Frankie’s lips twitched. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Before we were deployed, the boys and I went on a fishing trip. Well, one thing led to another and I had a huge catfish on my hook. This was a catch and release type of situation, you know?” When you nodded, he continued. “So, I reach in this creatures mouth to unhook it, and the bastard clamps down! Whole hand, in its mouth! And the thing about catfish, is they don’t have teeth, so they can’t technically bite, but they suck. It was like my hand was in a vacuum seal. When I eventually managed to get it out, no help from the boys mind you, it looked like a giant hickey on my hand. So, that’s where the nickname comes from.”

You snorted with laughter, and Frankie began to laugh too. At the time, it hadn’t been funny but looking back, he knew he would have been laughing his ass off if it happened to any of the other boys.

“I think Santi got a photo of it, I’ll try and find it for you if you want,” Frankie said. You nodded eagerly, wiping a tear from your eye.

“Please do, I’d love to see it,” you said with a grin that made his heart do something it really shouldn’t. Frankie nodded, making a mental note to call Santi and demand that the bastard rip apart his house to find it if he had to.

You turned to leave, and before he could stop himself, he was asking “do you want a ride?” Friends gave each other rides when they needed it, he reasoned. You hesitated, and Frankie kicked himself. Of course he’d overstepped. You didn’t know him that well, he was just the fry cook.

“Uh, yeah actually. It looks like it might rain.”

As if you had summoned it, thunder rumbled low overhead. Fat drops of rain began to fall slowly painting the ground. Frankie jangled his keys and you both sprinted to his truck. He opened your door for you, and ran around to his side. He didn’t miss that you sat with your back ridgid, your hands curled so tightly your knuckles were white.

“You okay?” he asked, although you obviously were not.

“Yeah, no, it’s just . . . You’re aware your truck looks like a death trap?”

Frankie snorted. He was very aware of this, but he was also very aware of what was under the hood. He trusted this truck more than any fancy modern car. Still. He decided that this was the perfect opportunity to mess with you. Just to see how you responded.

“Have you ever seen The Fast and The Furious?” He began, and you raised an eyebrow at him, your face skeptical. “Tokyo Drift, specifically. Well, this truck won me the title of Drift King several years in a row. That’s how well she runs.”

“Oh, fuck off!” You rolled your eyes, but you were laughing. “That’s not even slightly believable.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But how cool would it be if it were true.”

You rolled your eyes again, but you were smiling as you did it, and Frankie counted that as a victory. You gave him directions as he drove, surprising him with how close you lived to him. Only a five minute drive away. How long had you been this close? How had he never noticed you in the neighbourhood? Had he been blind, all these years?

“Thank you,” you said quietly as he pulled up outside your building, a three story walk up with a faded brick facade. The rain was coming down hard now, and lightning flashed.

“Anytime,” Frankie said in a tone that he truly meant any time. You nodded and ran through the rain, disappearing into the building. Frankie idled for a moment, wishing he could call you back and kiss you goodbye.

But he didn’t, because it wasn’t decent and it wasn’t what friends did. Friends didn’t crush on their friend like a fucking idiot kid.

So Frankie drove himself home and drove all thoughts of your mouth out of his head. That was until he checked his phone, and saw a text from an unknown number.

Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it :) sent 5:57AM

Frankie quickly saved your number in his phone, not taking the risk of losing it somehow. A second message from you buzzed through.

Oh and lunch on Sunday is at Taylor’s Bistro, on High Street if you still wanna come sent 6:01AM

Frankie wrote his message quickly.

Wouldn’t miss it x

He stared at it for too long, erased the x, replaced it with a smiley face and hit send before he could overthink it entirely. Then he remembered his promise to you, and called Santi almost instantly.

“Fish, what the fuck man? It’s four in the morning,” Santi groaned into the phone.

“It’s six you dope, but I need a favour,” Frankie said.

“Money?”

“No, man, nothing like that. Do you still have that photo of the catfish on my hand?”

“Yeah I’ve got a copy in my wallet.” Santi sounded more awake, and Frankie could hear his fancy espresso machine whir to life.

“Why do you- nevermind. Look, I need a copy ASAP.”

“What for? If it’s to destroy it just know I’ve thought ahead and I’ve got four physical copies and one in the Cloud.”

“No, nothing like that. It’s for a girl at work, she asked how I got my callsign and now I’ve gotta show her the photo.”

“Oh?” Santi sounded intrigued. “Who’s this girl?”

“A friend,” Frankie said a little forcefully. “She has a boyfriend.” As if that closed the matter. Apparently, it didn’t.

“Why should that stop you?” Santi asked. “You’re hot, I don’t know this chick but she’d be blind to not be into you.”

“Well, for one, my brain isn’t directly wired with my dick.” At this, Santiago scoffed. Frankie continued, ignoring him. “Secondly, she’s like, twenty five or six. She’s probably not into old guys.”

“You’re thirty-three, you’re not old. Also, chicks dig DILFs.”

“I don’t have a kid.”

“And yet you still have big DILF energy. I wonder if there are any little Francisco’s running around that we have yet to discover.”

“Shut the fuck up, man, it’s bad luck to say that kind of shit. Just get the photo to me, please.”

Santiago roared with laughter as Frankie hung up. Trust Santiago to work one of his deepest fears into conversation. Frankie wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of: having children, or having children and having no clue they existed. It wasn’t that he was against having kids altogether, it was just he knew he wasn’t in the right headspace to take care of someone who depended on him entirely. Some days he forgot to take care of himself, he didn’t want a kid to suffer. It wouldn’t be fair.

He brushed the thought aside as he climbed into bed. It was bad luck to linger on bad thoughts, at least, that’s what his abuela always told him whenever he complained about something as a kid.

He wasn’t sure why exactly he had told you that there was photographic evidence of a catfish latched onto his hand. Maybe he wanted to impress you? But no, he reasoned, there was nothing impressive about that. It was just plain embarrassing. He realised with a start that what he wanted was willing to do anything to hear your laugh again.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish

#the night shift #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier

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m-y-fandoms · 3 years

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COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 1

Thank you to the client for commissioning me! This is gonna be a long one! I love Joker and Persona 5 is my second favorite fandom after Danganronpa! Exctied to be working on this.

Around 2.6k words, SFW, SLOW BURN romance friends to lovers, gender neutral reader, anyone can enjoy it and place themselves as the reader! - Admin Myah

Shujin Academy could be silent as the grave in the earliest hours of the morning, and yet seem so deafening. It was almost guaranteed that at least thirty new rumors were spreading throughout the student body at any given time, and the overwhelmingly hostile environment that created made the air heavy. With all the teenage angst, hormones, hatred, circles of venomous malice, it was no wonder so many loners could be spotted on academy grounds. That’s just how it was at Shujin: you either had a clique, or you had no one. It was no surprise, then, that you simply kept your head down, minded your business, and got to know no one. Miraculously, though, gossip abound about you still, at least two or three preposterous examples of hearsay and stories. But hey, what could you do? That was in all actuality, pretty low for a single Shujin student. God help the students who actually did make their opinions known, express themselves through clothing and cosmetics, and dared to swim against the current.

You shuffled through the first floor, the absolute blandness of that April morning perpetuating your usual routine: arrive at Shujin, check your locker, scribble down any notes and ideas that came to you in your dreams last night to put into your next short story, and of course check for new posts in the group chat, where your only friends resided. You wouldn’t be caught dead associating with anyone here at the school, it would simply be mental and social suicide, and quite frankly, you didn’t have the constitution for that.

Peeking up for a split second to avoid any collisions, you quickly slid to the left and ducked into a nearby alcove, successfully escaping the gaze of the oncoming wall of muscle and testosterone that was Coach Kamoshida, the plague of Shujin Academy. It was the best case scenario that Kamoshida remained ignorant to one’s very existence, for even those on his good side suffered the consequences. He strode by, shoulders wide and chest puffed out, scanning the halls for girls to harass or boys to intimidate, and once the coast was clear and he was a safe distance away, his back facing you, you dipped back out of the rather dusty corridor and back into the light, immediately slipping back into an almost mechanical daily ritual. It took mere seconds: phone screen unlocked, group chat opened, notebook slipped snuggly back under armpit.

“C’mon, man!” An obnoxiously loud voice rang out above the typical tinnitus-like buzz of the hallway, and suddenly your shoulder was thrust forward, body flying to the ground with a forceful shove on the shoulder.

“Aaagh!” Your voice cracked as your knees buckled and you collided roughly with the wooden panels below, your smartphone soaring out of your grip and clinking against the floor. Thank goodness your notebook was safe, at the very least. People gasped and turned to look at the spectacle, including Kamoshida himself, who’d just reached the end of the hall.

“Sakamoto! I see you running in the halls again, I’ll write you up!” He just always had to say something, let the general student body know he was in charge. He cared far more about sounding rough and tough than making sure the student who was just steam-rolled was uninjured. He pointed directly at you and the student that had just dashed by, effectively pummeling you to the ground with a shoulder check. You looked up and just ahead of you, Ryuji Sakamoto was pivoting on one foot, ignoring Kamoshida’s threat entirely to catch his breath and look down at his victim, splayed across the floor.

Ryuji Sakamoto, now that was one of those students mentioned earlier, the kind that dyed his hair, customized his uniform, and didn’t take shit from anyone. He was a pariah, pretty much the opposite of the teacher’s pet… teacher’s pest more like. Sakamoto was the subject of many falsehoods and conjectures, and he was sure to be trouble for anyone associated…

You looked him up and down, halting your unflattering and socially-altered thoughts in their tracks. Didn’t wanna become the very thing you hated. There was no reason to judge Ryuji without first-hand proof.

“Woah! My bad, sorry dude!” He held up one hand submissively, but unfortunately, just as with Kamoshida, it seemed that you were not his main concern either. Huffing and puffing from the sprint, he looked past you to another male student who was hot on his trail, but this one looked… different.

You’d gone to Shujin Academy for all of your high-school career. It was your third and final year before graduation, and you knew of Sakamoto well enough, but this kid was a mystery… was he new here? He must’ve been. You knew at least the face of every student here in some way or another just through Shujin’s own little eternal game of telephone, and not by any choice of your own. You actively removed yourself from the local goings-on. Was it his first day here, you wondered. Why hadn’t you heard gossip about him yet, especially looking the way he did?

Beauty was a curse - much like any other feature that stood out - at Shujin Academy. If you were too pretty or handsome, you must be sexually promiscuous. On the other hand, if you were too ugly, too nerdy, too quiet, you probably picked your nose and read hentai on the train. There was no winning in this soul-crushing wasteland. Unfortunately for this new-comer, he was outrageously gorgeous.

“Gah, sorry about that…” he sighed, slowing his pace as he passed you by, plucking your phone up from the ground and offering you his hand. You took it and stood with his help. A quick tug and you were to your feet, dusting off your uniform and thanking him for his assistance. “Yeah, no problem… Ryuji’s just… a bit eager I suppose” he chuckled. “Luckily, no cracks!” He turned your phone around in his hand before placing it back into yours.

“Isn’t that the transfer student??? I heard he nearly killed a man!” One random NPC-esque shithead whispered from behind.

“Oh God, figures that freak would gravitate to the new freak…” another responded.

Ah… and there it was. Why did fate hate you so much that it chose you as Sakamoto’s door mat on this day? You truly must have been fortune’s fool.

“Yeah, good thing…” You eyed the boy before you, taking in what you could of the new student before the short exchange was over, from his face to the delicate yet thick veins protruding from his lithe hands.

He was tall and thin, and would even be considered lanky if not for the lean muscle that lined his frame. He seemed to be better off than the average teen, sporting almost no blemishes or imperfections on his smooth skin. A black, messy mop of hair that looked soft to the touch sat upon his head, falling into his eyes and over the dark frames of his distinct spectacles. These spectacles did nothing to hide the true elegance that gleamed in the eyes behind them. They were a muted, soft grey that was beautifully simple and clean. His uniform was neat and tidy - as opposed to his blonde and brash acquaintance’s - with his pristine white turtleneck gently blanketing a quite prominent Adam’s apple and his school jacket buttoned and ironed perfectly. Lower down, his plaid slacks concealed thighs that strained against the fabric and long legs that ran down into some very - yet again - flawless dress shoes. Yep, that was a brand new uniform, sure enough.

And a brand new student… he just might make a good subject, a new inspiration for your writing, an aura unmarred by the stain this place put on one’s soul. Your opinion of him was fresh, it was new, unaltered, unbiased, and he really was quite beautiful… your mind played with the thought.

“Ah… sorry about this,” he spoke, taking in the whispers all around you, “I probably just ruined your reputation, what with being seen with me an’ all,” he sighed and laughed breathily, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. He must’ve been keen to the ways of Shujin already, which was super sad in its own right. “I’m Akira by the way,” he held out a hand, and you shook it hesitantly.

“Eh, doesn’t really bother me. It’s (Y/N), nice to meet you. Sorry you’re feeling the Shujin warm welcome.” That first part was only partly true, but the last half was genuine.

“Anyway…” his voice shook you back out of your contemplative reverie, and you came back to reality to find him also looking you over. Oh right… you were new to him as well… “I gotta go, Ryuji is kind of impatient, I’ve found.”

“Hey! Am not!” Ryuji retorted, brows furrowing before he ran off. Akira’s eyes rolled playfully, before he smiled, waved, and sped off.

You nodded, and quickly pulled out your phone, rushing to the glass doors leading to the courtyard. Anything to get out of the spotlight and harsh crowd of stares, plus, you had a sparkling new idea filling up your cranium, and artistic inspiration could not be wasted. Finding one of the benches placed for student recreation, you set down your school bag and impatiently scrambled for your favorite pen, throwing open your notebook.

“Oh, shoot!” You’d gotten ahead of yourself in all the excitement. Placing the moleskin down, you picked up your phone, hands trembling just a bit, and messaged you friends before anything else. They just had to hear about this.

＊

(Y/N) 9:55 am: Guys guys guys!!!

Itsuki 9:56 am: What do you want?

Rin 9:56 am: ???

Megumi 9:57 am: Shouldn’t you be in class?

(Y/N) 9:57 am: Shut up I have a free period just listen

You know how I’ve been having writer’s block?

Rin 9:58 am: Ya

(Y/N) 9:58 am: Well I just met this new kid, and ideas just started FLOWING.

Itsuki 9:59 am: Yeah

Megumi 9:59 am: Yeah we remember nerd

Oh that’s great!

Wait what do you mean?

New kid?

Only we can have you 😭 Don’ go switching up on us. Shujin is

toxic anyway.

(Y/N) 10:01 am: No no no It’s not like we’re friends, I just met him is all

You know you’re my one and only bby 😘

Itsuki 10:01 am: New kid???

Megumi 10:01 am: 😎

Itsuki 10:02 am: Gross

Also what about me!!!!

Rin 10:02 am: Me too 😡😡😡

(Y/N) 10:03 am: You two know you’re included in that???? 🤔🙄

Anyway just listen

I think he may be good inspo for my main character!!!

I was stuck looking for a unique look or face claim or something

But he seems nice enough and he’s good looking!

Itsuki 10:05 am: You got a crush? Awww I’m telling 😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:05 am: I swear it’s like we haven’t been friends for years…

You know me, PLEASE don’t be gross

Writing purposes ONLY

Megumi 10:06 am: I thought you were stuck on the CONTENT, not characters and shit

(Y/N) 10:06 am: Both!!!! But he’s perfect for the look of my protag

Itsuki 10:06 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Megumi 10:07 am: Well I’m happy for you

STOP

Itsuki 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Rin 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:08 am: I can see this conversation isn’t going to be productive

LMAO you’re assholes

＊

You tucked your phone into your pocket and once again picked up your notebook. Scrawling down some of the details you knew about Akria: his looks, the sound of his voice, the way he carried himself, you quickly became aware that you knew far too little… or rather

You wanted to know more.

Standing, you packed your things and set out to find him again…

Not in the creepy way! You thought to yourself, trying to justify this uncharacteristic choice of yours to actually reach out to someone in real life, to maybe… try to make… friends? You stood there, brows furrowed and a small frown on your face, pondering your options.

“Oh well, all artists must suffer for their work!” You resolved a little too promptly to try to force another encounter with the new kid. He seemed to be special, unique. He seemed to be well aware of the social hierarchy of Shujin, and have a distaste of it at least. Maybe he wouldn’t be… so bad?

Making up your mind, you spent your free period not writing of romance and rebellious characters, but searching for that fluffy-headed newfound hero to your story, however ghoulish and greasy that made you appear. You truly were becoming that “reads-hentai-on-the-train” and stalks cute boys freak your peers thought people like you were, weren’t you?

To your surprise (though maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising with the volume of Sakamoto’s voice) you soon found the gaggle of second-years, model-status beauty Ann Takamaki now added to their number, standing next to the stairs on the third floor, looking quite conspicuous to boot. Noting the suspicious air around the three, you pulled back, hiding behind the corner leading down the next hall. They seemed on edge... maybe now wasn’t the best time to make friends…?

You felt something thump in your chest. Your shoulders sank subconsciously. It felt a little disappointing, disheartening in a way you couldn’t explain. It was a bit intimidating: Ryuji the loudmouth with a temper, the hottest girl in the school, and the cute new kid. You sighed, this was why you never tried to make friends in the first place. Why had you even gotten your hopes up?

These irrational feelings of self-doubt clouded your heart, your head knowing better of course. It was hard to fight thoughts like these, especially for someone like you. On the precipice of making up your mind, deciding to give up and scrap the new novel idea altogether, you were jolted to attention by the sound of shoes scuffling and scrambling up the stairs.

Students aren’t really allowed on the rooftop during school hours unless accompanied by a teacher or given express permission, your thoughts swarmed. Maybe they didn’t know? No, there’s no way. There’s a possibility Akira didn’t know, but Ann and Ryuji had been here for two years... What were they up to?

Your nosiness was regrettably getting the better of you, and you slithered over, careful to pad your steps and tread softly. You didn’t even know what you’d do once you’d cornered the trio on the roof, didn’t know what you’d say. What was there to say? You were never too good with words, that is those not written on paper. Your heart beating out of your chest, you climbed the narrow stairwell and threw open the doors to the roof.

“Huh?” You looked around, dumbfounded. “Hello?” The rooftop area was not that large, all parts of it visible from the door.

There was no one to be found.

“What the hell?” You step forward, thinking you must have been the subject of some prank, but no, upon looking around, all three students were gone without a trace. No school bags, no lunch boxes, no uniform pieces, nothing. Akira, Ryuji, and Ann, all vanished into thin air. There were no hiding spots, none big enough for three people at least. It was dead silent, and only the door you currently guarded provided an exit off of the roof. Your mind wanted to wander to darker places, but if they’d have jumped, there surely would’ve been a commotion either during or shortly after. Frantically, you looked around, feeling like you were going crazy.

“What the fuck?” You pressed the palm of one hand to your forehead, sitting on the ground and crossing your legs.

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mymedicine · 4 years

Text

Love and Other Drugs

or, 5k of new bf harry

moodboard/inspo tag + my masterlist

sum - yacht parties are cool and all, but harry really just wants to spend more time with his girl

warnings - alcohol (have I even written a fic where both mc’s are sober the whole time yet lmao), light sexy stuff (lil bit of ch*king k*nk if you squint), swearing probably, harry being a little shit, fluff to the maxxxxx

notes - good lord, this fic has been the absolute death of me. I stg, murphy’s law is real. anyways, the driving home scene is completely inspired by real life events that once made me swoon, but now I am lonely and so so tired so pls be nice to me thx much love <3

“Hold still!”

Harry whined and craned his neck away from his girlfriend’s hand, but he wasn’t able to go far with his back flush against the car door. “No baby, we’re already late!”

“But you’ve got jam on you!” Y/N cried. She reached her fingers up to rub the reddish marks off of his face, but, once again, he turned his head away like a stubborn child. “And we wouldn’t have been late if you hadn’t spent two hours combing your hair.”

“S not jam, it’s lipstick,” He insisted, deliberately ignoring her second (valid) point.

“Whatever. It’s on your cheek.”

Y/N made one final attempt to clean him up, but this time, he managed to escape the circle of her arms. He ran backwards toward the dock, taunting her playfully as he went, “Come on, baby!”

“Harry!” Given no other choice, she frantically pushed the lock button on the car key and chased after her child—er, boyfriend. She winced as her high heels hit the asphalt, feet aching against the gold sandals already. He’d slowed down a little to give her a break, but she was still panting as she yelled, “You can’t go to a fancy yacht party with lipstick on your face!”

He finally stopped running—thank God, because they were right in front of the ship and the last thing Y/N needed was to embarrass herself (or rather, be embarrassed by her man-child boyfriend) within sight of all the famous people that would surely be onboard already.

“But I like it.” He pouted as she reached him, entwining his fingers with hers before she could use them to try to scrub his face again.

Before she could reply, a familiar Irish accent boomed over the loud purring of the boat’s engine, “Harry! Y/N!”

Y/N really hoped someone was keeping an eye on Niall tonight. It was barely dusk and he already looked a little too buzzed to be leaning over the railing on the top deck. She craned her neck up to look at him, giggling to herself at the flush in his cheeks and the blonde mess on top of his head.

“Welcome abooaaard!” He waved far more aggressively than was necessary.

“Happy birthday, Niall!” Y/N yelled back at him, blocking the bright sun with one hand—a hand she discreetly wrestled out of Harry’s.

Harry, too, looked upward and was squinting into the sky. The sun was just beginning its descent into the horizon, and soon the evening would be hanging behind the silvery moon. In the mean time, the sky was bright and painted with delicate strokes of soft pink and peachy orange.

While Harry waved back at his friend, Y/N took advantage of the distraction—and his exposed cheek.

Without warning, she hurled her hand up to his face and swiped at the pink mark as hard as she could.

“Hey!” Harry whipped his head back to her, mock hurt written all over his face.

Y/N flashed him a cheeky, victorious smile. “Got it!”

September in south Florida was as hot and humid as summer anywhere else. Even out at sea, with the cool ocean wind surging throughout the top deck of the yacht, it was plenty warm enough for the guests to enjoy the outdoors.

“H, can you hold my phone and keys in your pocket?”

Harry was standing awkwardly near the railing of the boat, fiddling absently with the plume of lace and chiffon on his black top. He still had a faint reddish mark on his cheek (she wasn’t sure if it was leftover lipstick or just irritated from her rubbing at it) that Y/N, despite the turmoil that had ensued over it, found very endearing. She always thought he was handsome. She had since the first day they met four months earlier. But tonight, he was positively glowing. He shined in the fabulous black number, his skin further brightened by the setting sun and the utter joy coursing through him (the entire flute of champagne he’d already downed certainly didn’t hurt, either).

He took the phone and keys from her while she admired him, happy to help her but not without a smart remark: “You should’ve worn the dress with the pockets, love,” he chastised her playfully, a smirk dressing his berry lips.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You said you liked the pink on me!”

Choosing her dress for the night had been an ordeal that rivaled even Harry’s complicated hair routine. She’d originally chosen a black long sleeved one with pockets that was comfortable and appropriate and matched Harry’s own all-black ensemble (which he’d had picked out for weeks). Her boyfriend rejected the black dress, pointing out that she’d be hot it in because “It’s practically summer in Miami, love.” Instead, he chose a silky pink number, midi-length and tight in all the right places with a tastefully low cowl neckline. She’d dressed it up with a few gold bracelets and a single pearl earring in her left ear that, to her satisfaction, matched Harry’s. And yeah—it didn’t have pockets, but Harry liked it and it made her feel sexy and that’s all that mattered.

Harry hummed with a tight lipped grin. “Yeah, you’re right,” His tone was innocent, almost regretful as he looked her up and down. The pink sunset behind her was highlighting her figure just right, wind rushing through her hair, exposed skin supple and tempting. Harry was mesmerized by her.

His hands moved on their own accord to gently hold her by the waist. “Your ass looks really cute in the silk…I reckon the color makes your skin glow a bit, too. And matches your makeup, and looks nice with my earring…” He continued spewing some breathy compliments at her, even after she sort of stopped listening when a waiter holding a tray of delectable looking hors d'oeuvres caught her attention.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Of course, honey,” she replied (mostly) honestly. He was always a mushy little sap for her, but she truly did love the way he appreciated the little things she put effort into. “Thank you for noticing those little details.”

“You’re welcome. Know ya don’ just do it f’me though,” His ring clad fingers drummed against her waist, the metal cold through the thin silky material she wore. “Love that about you.”

Y/N cracked a smile in spite of the nervous shiver washing over her at his words. She couldn’t help but notice it was already the second time he’d said that word since they’d embarked. He was treading dangerously close to the vast, uncharted l-word territory. He’s a little buzzed, she reasoned with herself, despite also knowing it was silly because he’d only had a single champagne. But then again, he was a lightweight—and judging by the way he suddenly dropped her waist to chase down a passing waitress for two more glasses, he wouldn’t be slowing down any time soon. If he told her while he was drunk, would it really count?

He returned to her side, keeping one flute for himself and presenting the other to her. “Thank you, honey,” she said, grasping the stem of it (even though she still had a half full one resting precariously on the railing behind her). It was a fitting nickname for him, she thought. She hadn’t really meant for that to become her little pet name for him, but he loved it just as much as she did. “You’re sweet.”

“You’re sweeter,” her boyfriend hummed happily, “even when you’re checking out that waiter…”

“No! I wasn’t!”

“You kinda were,” He smiled cheekily at her.

“Was not.”

“’S alright, baby. He’s handsome. You’re allowed to have a little look.” But the way he held her protectively by the hip betrayed his words.

“You know I only have eyes for you,” If that wasn’t a hint, she didn’t know what was. “I’m just hungry. He was holding bacon wrapped shrimp, I think.”

“Mmm, me too,” Harry replied, the interaction already forgotten in favor of a savory snack. He tugged on her hand so they could follow that waiter, grumbling as they padded around the crowded deck. “Niall’s a fuckin ass for not serving dinner at an evening party.”

“Oh give him a break! It’s his birthday.” she let him pull her toward the middle where more people were gathered around the bar and admiring the decor—

“Is that an ice scultpure?”

Harry was right. It was a giant clear sculpture of a guitar made entirely out of ice. People were around it, admiring the intricacies and mingling and sipping on expensive looking drinks.

“How long you bet til it melts?”

“Not before Niall accidentally knocks it over,” Y/N laughed and gestured toward the man of the hour, who indeed was stumbling over his feet while trying to maintain a conversation with a group of several strikingly beautiful looking people—models? Probably.

It was obvious that Niall hadn’t planned this for himself. The whole thing was far too elegant and classy. His drunken ramblings were entertaining, sure, but he stood out amidst the black tie formals and live R&B music floating around the large deck of the luxurious vehicle.

Harry chased down the waiter and grabbed shrimp skewers for them both while Y/N continued quietly giggling at Niall’s antics.

Minutes drifted into hours as alcohol, shrimp skewers, and joyful conversation flowed liberally about the deck. Y/N had separated herself from Harry—much to his drunken dismay—to go and mingle with some of the “famous people.” She did it all on her own, confidently striding over and striking up a conversation with anyone worthy of her attention.

“Long time no see, mate.” Mitch’s voice interrupted Harry’s inner thoughts surrounding his girlfriend. He tore his eyes away from her and turned to face his friend, who was standing with his own girlfriend beside him.

“Been busy,” Harry replied.

Sarah’s eyebrows rose as a grin spread across her cheeks. She glanced at Mitch, who wore a matching one.

“You both have been quite busy, yeah?” Sarah cocked her head toward where Y/N was, grin widening along with Harry’s eyes.

Harry hid his smile in his glass, taking a large gulp of the bubbly. “What d’ya mean?” He asked innocently.

“We saw you staring at her, buddy.”

Well, fuck. He can’t exactly deny that. He was indeed watching her as she mingled with a group of people—exceptionally beautiful people. She fit in perfectly with the models, her smile bright and dress shiny, hips swaying tantalizingly to the beat of the drums. She engaged effortlessly in what looked like an exciting conversation with A-listers and held their attention with sweeping hand gestures. Even from across the deck, he swore he could feel her joy. Light just radiated off of her and sent a gentle flutter through his belly and a heat wave through his heart.

Sarah studied him. The way his eyes twinkled and his cheeks flushed with happiness…it was obvious. “You love her.” She deadpanned.

Harry shrugged in response, a knowing smile on his face which he didn’t bother to hide this time.

“You do!” It was Mitch this time, who wrapped an arm around Sarah and looked at her with the same happy smile his friend wore.

“No comment.” A twinge of jealously bit his heart as he watched a handsome brunette lean down to whisper something in his girlfriend’s ear. He frowned instinctively, picturing the man muttering flirtatious compliments or dirty suggestions to her like he should be doing right now.

Sarah continued to watch Harry watch Y/N, unsure if he was even listening anymore. “It’s alright to admit it. Love is a beautiful thing.”

“Don’t listen to her,” said Mitch, “it’s a drug!”

“Hey look!” Harry shouted a distraction, pointing somewhere behind the two of them. He spotted two waiters bringing out an impressive tiered cake swirled with white frosting and topped with those sparkling candles. “It’s time to sing for the birthday boy!”

The boat erupted in a cacophonous rendition of the birthday song as the cake was placed on top of the bar. Night had fallen over the deck, making the sparkly decorations shine blindly bright against the moonlight. Meanwhile, Niall was dancing hysterically among the crowds, even singing along to his own birthday song in a drunken spree. At the final, …to you! he performed a dramatic bow and roared, “Thank you, beautiful people!”

Applause died slowly as Niall began grabbing peoples’ faces to kiss their cheeks in thanks. Y/N looked around for Harry, quite certain that her boyfriend would be perfectly willing to accept a kiss from the birthday boy, especially when he was inebriated. Sure enough, she caught sight of him wrapped up in an embrace with the blonde, a wide smile on his face as Mitch and Sarah laughed hysterically at the interaction.

Harry accepted the cheek kiss, just as his eyes met hers over Niall’s shoulder.

“Y/N!” He screeched and broke the embrace. He started running over to her in an uncoordinated stride, limbs flailing and most definitely spilling alcohol on other peoples’ expensive clothes.

“Y/N!” he slurred, finally reaching her side, “Gimme a kissy!”

She laughed. “You just got kissies from Niall, honey.” “But I want your lipstick on me. Yeh wiped it off.” He frowned deeply, no—melodramatically as his hand cupped his own cheeks where the pink lipstick mark once was.

She called him a little baby but obliged anyways, stamping a firm lip shaped mark on one of his flushed cheeks. He grinned wildly in response and looked at her with that look in his eyes that she absolutely adored. He was looking at her like she was royalty, like she hung the moon and commanded the sea and granted miracles upon mere mortals such as himself.

“Wish I could give you one too…” Harry trailed off, eyes wandering around the room. “Maybe then all those hot models and waiters would leave you alone.”

“Aw, you jealous baby?”

He nodded shamelessly and, with a pouty look, tucked her into his arms. He pressed a series of hard kisses on her cheeks and temples, squeezing the silky pink fabric at her waist. The feeling made her heart squeeze in the most delightful way—chest tight and warm with…with love.

“Wanna go check out the lower deck?”

And Y/N hadn’t known this man too long, but it was long enough to know that he had anything but innocent intentions with his sweet request. She was still only nursing her third glass of bubbly, but Harry’s suggestive stare and wandering hands seemed to ignite the slight heat flowing through her veins into an inferno.

It engulfed them both as Y/N’s back hit the inside of the door to the lower deck bathroom.

Harry’s lips were soft and playful and sexy all at once—just like him. He trailed hot kisses down her cheeks and jaw much like he had earlier, only now there was no audience. No need to hold back. Only hot, sweet skin swathed in pink silk and black chiffon.

“You marked me already, ’s my turn.”

Just when she was feeling a little too sober, Harry’s words drenched her in the heat of desire. This was definitely a bad idea, but it didn’t sound like one when he put it like that.

His fingers slipped from her jaw and followed his lips down to her throat, enticing her with a gentle squeeze—a warning? Or a promise for later? Either way, this bathroom escapade was fucking sliced bread and she was putty in his hands.

He sucked harshly on the supple skin of her neck without warning. A gasp slips out of Y/N’s mouth and Harry’s ringed thumb pressed deeply into the center of her throat in reprimanding. His other fingers gripped the crook of her neck, just enough to make her head spin and keep her body pliant.

Meanwhile, his other hand slithered down the smooth silk to her waist, his hold on her heavy and warm. Harry’s swollen lips retracted from her bruised neck, not before pressing a few gentle pecks to the hickeys to soothe the pain.

Y/N felt dizzy with pleasure and enveloped in love. She couldn’t help but chase his lips for a few more desperate kisses as he pulled away from her neck. She suddenly wished she could admire the marks he’d left, but the glazed, hungry look in his eyes would definitely suffice. The little bathroom felt ten degrees warmer—leaving Harry looking hot and flushed and absolutely irresistible.

“You okay, baby?” Harry whispered in the tiny space between them, words slightly slurred and dipped in bliss.

Y/N nodded aggressively, letting her hands wrap around the back of his neck where his skin was hot and hair curled adorably. “Please kiss me again.”

He did as he was told, of course. His lips moved tenderly with hers and his hands trailed lower, gently caressing her waist and hips. His fingers started a course back up to her ass, this time taking the fabric of her dress with them.

Y/N’s head felt light as a feather, no thoughts besides Harry…Harry’s hands…Harry’s lips…Harry…

She curled her thighs around his hips and he responded effortlessly, hoisting her up by the backs of her thighs and pressing taut between the cold bathroom wall and his own hot chest. The temperature in the room seemed to rise impossibly then, the sounds of breathy moans and gentle sucking kisses seamlessly diffusing into the heat and surrounding them in a delightful symphony.

Y/N was thrilled by the way Harry’s tongue tasted like champagne—as sweet and plushy as always. She decided then that she would never get tired of the feeling of his mouth on hers, of the dizzying joyful feeling his lips gave her every single time.

“Harry…honey…”

“What ’s it pretty girl?”

The pet name in his raspy accent went straight to her core. She let out another shameless whine, squeezing his waist tighter with her legs.

“I need you, Harry…”

“Hm? Need what?”

She groaned—now he wanted to be a tease. After he’d gotten to give her the hickeys like he wanted.

“Harry, please.”

“‘M just messing, pretty girl. I know what you ne—“

Suddenly, a loud crash rang out in the little cabin. Y/N let out a screech and sprang away from Harry, landing awkwardly on her stiletto heels. Wide eyed, she and Harry both looked up toward the source of the sound. Muffled shouts followed, in the midst of a horrible shattering sound, like broken glass, or hail or—

“The ice sculpture!”

They were both wide eyed and panting and a little sweaty, hair tousled and lips swollen red.

“Oh shit,” There were more muffled shouts and some shuffling of feet above them. Even through the ornate ceiling of the bathroom, it was clear there was an ordeal going on up there.

Breathy pants lingered between them, and the room suddenly felt even smaller, even more swelteringly hot and stuffy. Of all things to ruin the heat of the moment…a fucking ice sculpture.

They looked at each other blankly, as if to say what the hell do we do now?

“Let’s head back up while everyone’s distracted.” It was Harry’s alcohol-induced idea, cooked up in his foggy brain.

“There’s no way we can go back to the party like this.” Y/N gestured between them—the sweaty foreheads, messy hair, skin dotted with hickeys, and most prominently, her boyfriend’s obvious arousal.

Harry sighed, glancing down at himself. “Let’s leave then.”

“What, you wanna swim home?”

Harry frowned, “Huh?”

“We’re on a fucking boat, dumbass.”

Harry looked away from her with wide eyes and burning cheeks. Right…Absently, he thought it was funny how she could go from making out with him against the wall of the bathroom, practically begging for more, to mercilessly making fun of him, all within seconds. His thoughts bled into his expression, a happy smile tugging on his lips as he thought about her and her unparalleled sex appeal and her cute laugh and her mock insults and her more and more.

And just like that, he was laughing. His wild laughter seemed to echo in the small bathroom. Despite their hot rendezvous being rudely interrupted, Y/N swore she could smell the happiness in the room—almost as poignant as the champagne on his breath.

Seconds later, she couldn’t help but join him in happy laughter.

Turns out, the fallen ice sculpture was even more of a hazard than they’d initially realized—so much so that the captain of the yacht demanded an early return to shore and a continuation of the party on land. Many patrons were disappointed by the early end to the yacht cruise, not including the birthday boy himself, who Y/N would be surprised if was still walking at this point.

As they sailed back toward the shore, Harry was nursing yet another flute of champagne while Y/N clung to him in the boat’s interior—half because she wanted to cover his erection from any passerbys, and half because she just really wanted to hold him. He’d also managed to produce a slice of cake on a porcelain plate, which he’d presumably snagged when he left her on the couch to find more alcohol.

“You look cute,” she mused at him while he chewed the forkful of cake she’d just slid into his mouth. She was sideways in his lap, bare feet rested on the arm of an expensive looking couch. She vaguely realized that this area of the boat was probably off limits for guests, but fuck it, she thought, no harm no foul.

“Hm?”

“I said, ‘you look cute.’” Y/N repeated. He really did look cute like that, with his face flushed and hair messy and a tinge of lipstick still lingering on his cheek.

“Oh yeah,” he mumbled with frosting still between his teeth, “I heard you the first time.”

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying. I take it back.”

“You can’t take it back!”

She gathered another forkful of cake and brought it up to his lips, “I just did.”

“Fine then,” He said, “I’ll just toss you overboard. Out of sight, out of mind.”

At that, Y/N gasped. She quickly turned her hand away and brought the cake into her own mouth, licking her lips for extra impact.

“Noooo!” He held her by the hip and dragged her even closer to him, as if she were about to get up and actually go overboard and take the cake with her. “I’m sorry baby, you’re cute, too. So cute. Like, so cute that I can’t believe you like me.”

Like? I think I more than like you.

“I can’t believe it, either.”

The words were on the tip of her tongue, dancing around in the tiny space between their lips like electricity. Harry leaned forward and kissed her tenderly, sucking on her bottom lip as if trying to pull them out of her.

Yet again, they were interrupted. This time by a loud horn blare and the captain’s voice over the intercom. “Land, ho!”

“Finally.” Harry sighed in relief, already trying to stand up from the couch, “Can you take me home now, please.”

“We can’t just leave when the party’s still going! What about Niall?” Y/N pressed her hands against his chest to slow him down.

“Niall won’t remember a damn thing.”

She considered his words. He wasn’t wrong; Niall had already knocked over the ice sculpture, after all.

“Take a left here,”

“Here?”

“Ye—wait, no.” Harry slurred, shaking his head from the passenger seat.

But his girlfriend had already turned the wheel to the left, inevitably sending the car in the wrong direction, again.

“Shit, M’ sorry baby.” he said with a drunken giggle.

“Good lord Harry…”

She threw the car into a random driveway, grumbling as she executed a clumsy K-turn.

She could hear the cranky frown in Harry’s voice as he groaned, “You’re a shit driver.”

“Well you’re a shit navigator!” Y/N looked over and gave him a pointed look. But the look only fell on his droopy, half-open eyes. “Where the fuck do I go?”

A beat of silence passed as Harry’s head lolled around. He hummed a bit, imitating the low rumble of the car’s engine. Finally, he murmured, “Keep goin’ straight.”

“Are you sure?”

He didn’t reply, just turned to look at her with that mischievous drunken smile.

“Aw fuck, no. We passed it up.”

“Harry!” She couldn’t help but laugh. Despite her annoyance, his antics were amusing. “Are you sure you actually know where you live?”

“Of course I know where I live!”

Y/N sped into another middle-of-the-road U-turn, and Harry dramatically fell into her lap with a low yell.

“Slow down, you minx! Gonna get us killed!”

“You’re so dramatic, Harry. If you’d just tell me where the fuck you live!”

“Can’t remember.”

She craned her head up to ceiling, letting her own eyes fall shut as she inhaled her frustration.

“Okay, fine. It’s that blue one over there.” He gestured vaguely to the right, but it was too dark to see the colors of the houses anyways.

Y/N let out her deep breath, “Somehow I don’t believe you.”

His growing smirk gave him away. After only a few seconds, his foggy brain would not allow him to contain his giggles.

“Harry!” she whined. He was always kind of silly and clingy, but the excessive alcohol made him an actual baby. He was still laying in her lap over the center console.

“Why are you like this?”

He pouted, feigning hurt. “Maybe I just wanna spend more time with you.”

Y/N’s fingers loosed on the wheel. She slowed the car to a stop against on of the curbs in the quiet neighborhood, poised under the soft light of a street lamp. Her annoyed expression softened and the familiar urge washed over her—the urge to kiss his cheeks and tell him she loved him and squeeze him tight and never let him go. How could one person be so annoying yet so fucking adorable?

She pushed his hair back (not without thinking about how he would’ve scolded her for messing it up at the beginning of the night when he had been sober, but now he was far too drunk to care) and wrapped an arm around his neck. It was definitely an awkward position and Harry couldn’t have been comfortable like that, but he didn’t seem to mind. He held her arm in both hands and snuggled into her lap as she cooed at him. “Aw, baby. You could’ve just told me.”

“But we’ve only been together for a little bit…and I don’t want ya to get sick of me.”

“Could never get sick of you, honey. Not even if I wanted to,” she said earnestly, continuing to stroke her fingers gently through his curls.

“Really?”

Now if that wasn’t a hint…this man was even stupider than she thought. In spite of his endearing idiocy, Y/N still could not resist the urge to just love him.

The idea that he could possibly love her back crossed her mind several times, especially in the past few weeks.

But they’d only been officially for a month and a half…was it too soon? Would she scare him off? Was there some unwritten rule of love to wait until they’d at least seen each others’ homes? Although, if she did tell him now, Harry was so drunk he may not even remember. If it went horrifically wrong, maybe she could forget it happened. (No, she definitely would not ever be able to forget if that happened, but the lie comforted her a little nonetheless). But if it went well, she’d be more confident telling him again when he was sober tomorrow. And at last, she didn’t even think she could hold the words in for another second while he was cuddling into her and kissing her arms like a baby kitten.

“I love you, Harry.”

“You do?!”

Suddenly, he seemed alarmingly sober.

“Ugh, yes. How could I not?”

He looked appalled, really. As if the idea of her loving him was absolutely insane. “Well, I annoy you, I kiss you in public, I drink too much, I spend way too much time on my hair, I’m not as handsome as that waiter…”

“And you’re pretty stupid.” Y/N interrupted with her own addition to the growing list.

“Yeah, you’re right. I am pretty dumb…But,” he paused, flipping over in her lap to look her in the eyes, “I did get one thing right.”

“What’s that?” She asked, fondly stroking his gelled hair with trembling hands.

“Falling in love with you.”

And loving him was that easy, as easy as sipping champagne and eating cake and falling overboard. She loved his flamboyance, his confidence, his kindness. She loved his silly tattoos and his bunny teeth and the little scar under his chin and the faint lipstick stain on his cheek. She loved the way they teased each other like children. She loved the way his mouth felt against hers. She loved the way he adored her. And so, she couldn’t help but smile wide.

“Alright, let’s add you’re super cheesy to that list, too…”

thanks for reading! please reblog if you enjoyed <3

feedback is welcomed, encouraged, and highly appreciated!

#harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #boyfriend!harry #yacht!harry #harry styles #my writing #i know shes a lil babie one shot but please be nice i have slaved over her

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farfromsugafanfic · 3 years

Text

Sutures - Chapter Eleven: Right Place

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): mentions of anxiety (sort of), exes who won’t leave you alone, family hospitalization, mentions of death

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

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You swung your legs towards the seat across from you, but they were just barely too short and they fell straight back down which caused Yoongi to chuckle. He sat diagonally from you with his feet resting on the seat beside you. He wore headphones and had his laptop in front of him. You hadn't even realized he was paying attention to you.

You held your knitting needles and your creation was nearly done. Yoongi had told you about his family dog--Holly--and you remembered seeing his picture in Yoongi's studio. You were knitting a small scarf that would tuck easily around his collar. You wished you had more time to make him something like a jacket, but Yoongi had sprung the trip on you, planning and taking on a large project like that took weeks to complete.

The scenery on the train flew by so quickly you could hardly make it out and it made your head spin if you tried for more than a few seconds.

"You seem quiet," Yoongi said. He hadn't taken his headphones off and you laughed at the thought that he simply had them in as a habit.

"You were working. I didn't want to disturb you."

Yoongi shrugged and lowered his laptop screen and allowed his headphones to fall around his neck. "You seem nervous." His gaze lowered down to your fingers that continued knitting as you spoke and looked into his eyes. You hadn't even noticed the way your fingers continued the pattern.

"I mean, I want to make a good impression on your family. I know we're not really together or anything, but I'm your soulmate and if they don't like me--"

"Exactly, you're my soulmate," Yoongi said. "Finding each other was less than one in a million. Almost less than one in a billion. And, don't they say that soulmates are often not just compatible with the person, but their family as well?"

"That's been the case so far," you said, remembering reading the Wikipedia article on the handful of other soulmate couples. "But, soulmate science is new and imprecise. And, I imagine for those who are different from their families or don't have good relationships with them, that can't always be true."

"I have a feeling they will like you," Yoongi said. "You don't have to worry."

You didn't get a chance to respond as the train lurched to a stop and announced its arrival in Daegu. The doors opened and you stood up. You and Yoongi had had the train car to yourselves, so you were able to stand up and grab your suitcase immediately.

"Are the press gonna be here?"

"I don't know," Yoongi said. "We didn't officially announce this trip, but I wouldn't be surprised if someone is following us."

You nodded. It was becoming familiar to see camera flashes and your face used as a cover photo. The thought of growing used to it sent a shiver down your spine as you extended the handle on your suitcase.

Yoongi stood beside you and your eyes met briefly causing his lips to turn upwards in a small smile. He reached up and pulled the mask you'd forgotten was looped around your ears and hanging around your chin up over your lips and nose.

"Just in case," he said.

---

You hadn't seen a single camera as you neared Yoongi's parent's place. You weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse. Just because you couldn't see the cameras, didn't mean that they weren't there. You half expected to see a picture of you and Yoongi getting off the train in Daegu pop up in your newsfeed.

"We're here," Yoongi said. The car stopped and Yoongi was immediately out and walking around to open your door. You stepped out and gripped the handle of your suitcase, the bones of your knuckles feeling like they were about to burst through your skin.

Yoongi walked slightly in front of you and opened the door. The first thing you heard was a high-pitched barking and before you could catch sight of Holly, the brown full-sized poodle was jumping up on you in greeting.

"You must Holly," you said, crouching down and allowing the dog to rest its front half on your lap. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Ah, I'm right here." Yoongi's face contorted into a look of simultaneous amusement and jealousy.

You laughed as you ruffled the dog's ears and crouched down so he could lick your chin. "Oh, you're so sweet." You reached into your purse and pulled out the scarf you finished on the train ride and carefully tied it around his neck.

"Oh!" you heard someone exclaim from the other end of the room. "I wasn't expecting you two for another hour. Dinner isn't done yet."

"It's fine. We have to get settled anyway."

Yoongi's mother's eyes widened as she met yours. It was as if she had just noticed you. She stood just a few inches shorter than Yoongi and you could see they shared many features. From the slope of the nose to the way her eyes seemed to narrow in on you, the same way Yoongi's did in certain moments.

"You must be Sumi," she said. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

She reached out and pulled you into a hug. You tensed as she wrapped her arms around you. From everything Yoongi told you about his family, they were not outwardly affectionate people and so you had expected at most a firm handshake.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just feel like you're part of the family already." She glanced over at Yoongi and back at you. "I haven't seen Yoongi this happy for a long time."

"Oh," was all you could get out. Yoongi had told them you were trying to sever the relationship, right?

---

Yoongi met his mother's gaze. Her eyebrow slightly arched, a look Yoongi had seen many times. Holly broke the silence with a bark signaling for you to reach down and pet him again. You crouched down so your face was level with his and allowed him to lick your chin.

Yoongi couldn't help but smile as he watched you. Your hair was ruffled from the train ride and he noticed the way your shaking hands calmed as they ran through Holly's fur. He crouched down next to you and met your eyes, a small smile simultaneously appeared on both your faces.

"I've never seen him warm up to someone so quickly," Yoongi said, ruffling the dog's ears.

"I guess he just likes me."

"Yeah," Yoongi said, his voice an octave quieter. "I guess he does."

Yoongi's phone buzzes in his pocket. His hand reaches for it, but he doesn't want to leave this moment. It wasn't like he was reliant on his phone, but with an upcoming album and the other members working on it in his absence, he couldn't ignore it.

Jihee's name appeared on his screen and his widened. He hadn't blocked her number purely because the texts after the break up stopped and with the whole soulmates thing, he'd honestly forgotten.

Yoongi opened the text and found a screenshot from Instagram where she'd posted a picture of herself laying on a bed with her legs straight up in the air. It wasn't the familiar slope of her calves or the arch of her back that caught his eye, but rather the black pumps she wore.

He recognized them instantly as the ones you'd worn and abandoned the night he'd met you and the ones you'd failed to get back from Minki. Yoongi had no idea how Jihee got a hold of them, or how she even knew their significance.

He screenshot the text and emailed it off to the legal team at BigHit. He knew the post would probably gain some attention, but he trusted it would be seen for what it was, an attempt to seek attention.

Blocking her number, he slid the phone back into his pocket. Yoongi knew he should tell you, but watching the way you adjusted the scarf around Holly's neck, he decided he'd tell you later.

---

Yoongi was starving and watched as each dish was placed on the table. His parents had made a bit of everything and as soon as everything was set he quickly reached for braised pork and his mom's homemade kimchi.

You grabbed a bit of everything and mixed it together with your rice. Yoongi reached out and grabbed a few more pieces of meat and set them in your bowl.

"You didn't eat much this morning."

Your eyes widened and Yoongi thought he caught your lips curl into an embarrassed smile.

"Sumi," Yoongi's mother said. "I'm so happy you came into Yoongi's life. We were getting a bit worried Yoongi would never find someone who made him truly happy." She glanced over at Yoongi's father. "Even in his past relationships, I never saw Yoongi like this."

Yoongi felt the heat rush to his ears and his feet fidgeted under the table.

You--despite Yoongi seeing the way you fiddled with your chopsticks indicating your nerves--smiled. "Well, I didn't really have a choice." You laugh, which normally made Yoongi's heart jump, this time made it fall.

While it was entirely true that you and Yoongi hadn't a choice in getting to know each other, there was a part of Yoongi that didn't want this to end. He wanted to see you play with Holly, see your hair splayed over your face in the morning, and your small smile when he gave you more meat.

"I am happy I met Yoongi though," you said. "Even if we can't spend the rest of our lives together and this is all some weird biological thing, these past few weeks getting to know Yoongi have convinced me that we are truly soulmates. I don't think soulmates always have to be romantic or end up together, we just get each other."

The table fell silent. But, it was content and for the remainder of the meal, the only sounds heard were light conversations and the sounds of eating. Yoongi couldn't help the swelling feeling he felt in his chest. He worried he would suddenly float off the seat like a balloon if he didn't try to stifle it.

You set down your chopsticks. "Thank you for the meal. I'll clean up my things and head to bed."

"Oh, no need to clean up. You're our guest. Yoongi, why don't you show her to your old room? I'll set you up a bed on the couch."

"Ah, mom, we're soulmates. Is that really necessary?"

"Yes," his mom said. "Maybe the poor girl wants a break from you."

His mom's quip made you laugh and he let out a sigh. "All right," he said. "Come on."

---

Yoongi led you to his childhood bedroom. When he opened the door, you were met with Epik High posters and notebooks lining the shelves of his bookshelf. You smiled at how distinctly Yoongi it felt. While it obvious his room hadn't changed much from when he first left home, you could still see hints of the man Yoongi would become. From the basketball trophies to the books about music production.

"Hey, I need to talk to you about something."

Yoongi's demeanor changed as he closed the door. "I got a text from Jihee earlier. She somehow got ahold of your shoes and posted with them. I sent everything to the company and I'm sure they will take care of it. I just wanted to warn you in case this blows up--"

"I trust you, Yoongi," you interrupted. "They've already said everything they could. It can't get worse than it already is and I know you'll do your best to take care of it."

You flopped down onto the bed and patted the bed beside you. Yoongi laid beside you. Your bodies were centimeters apart, but you didn't touch.

"Your parents didn't like Jihee, did they?"

Yoongi shook his head. "No," he said. "They tolerated her because I liked her, but they said they never pictured her as part of the family."

"Mine never liked Minki either." You were silent for a moment. "Maybe they knew somehow."

"Maybe," Yoongi said, his fingers brushing against yours. You turned and noticed he was still looking up at the ceiling, seemingly not noticing how his hand wandered to find yours. You wondered if it was a side effect of being soulmates. Your hands would always find each other.

The moment was severed when your phone rang. It was your mom and your stomach turned as you realized it was 5 am there.

"Hello?" You didn't care that Yoongi was in the room anymore. In fact, something kept you clinging to his hand.

"Sumi? You need to get here. Grandma's in the hospital and they don't think she has much time left. We're gonna leave her on life support until you get here because we know she would want you here. I don't know if it's possible without risking your own health and Grandma will understand--"

"No, I'm coming. I'll find a way. Give me a couple days. I'll be there, okay?" Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears and after you said your goodbyes, they rushed out. You weren't cognizant, but when you opened your eyes, you were folded into Yoongi's chest.

"Did you hear everything?"

Yoongi nodded. "I've already called a car to take us back. We'll be back in Seoul in a few hours."

"Yoongi, what are we going to do? You have a comeback soon. You can't just come with me to California."

"Shh, we'll figure it out. Just get your things together, okay?"

You nodded and got off the bed to collect your things. "Yoongi," your voice was still hoarse and barely there. "Thank you."

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remmushound · 3 years

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Part 9 of my bay/rise crossover! Notice: When only one April is in a chapter, they will simply be referred to as April, but if both are in the same chapter then Bay April will be April and Rise April will be O’Neil@errorfreak88 @brightlotusmoon

The portal spat Leonardo and Michelangelo out onto the roof of a building. They landed on top of each other, though Michelangelo quickly slipped off of his brothers carapace due to the shape of the smaller shell.

“Where are we?” Michelangelo asked, following his brother’s lead and laying as flat and motionless as possible.

“I don’t know.” Leonardo motioned his brother to stay down as he took a look over the busy city landscape. “But Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore…”

****

Jumping across the rooftop was something Leonardo could do in his sleep! But doing it during the day, where the streets were filled with humans buzzing around doing their everyday thing, it was a bit more difficult. He had to be aware not only of how far to jump, but also when to jump, and how high he could jump without his shadow making its way out into the streets below. Sure, only one in a thousand would notice a passing shadow, but there were eight million people in New York.

It almost sickened Leonardo to refer to this place as New York. Every time he looked around, he would recognize the buildings and the monuments and the landscape, but each and every one just seemed… wrong. Not his own. Like he was staring through a funhouse mirror. This was New York, but something inside him knew this wasn’t his New York, and it filled with a sense of dread and of not belonging. He wondered if Michelangelo felt the same way.

Leonardo saw an opening and gave a gentle tug on Michelangelo’s arm. “Now.”

Both brothers glided effortlessly across the alleyway to the next building over and then fell down flat to hide behind the parapet. Leonardo fit almost perfectly behind it, but Michelangelo’s shell was bulky enough that the dome was showing. Leonardo that it wasn’t visible from the angel of the streets.

“Leo…” Michelangelo whined, his tongue hanging out as he panted. “I’m tired!”

“I know Mikey.” Leonardo grabbed Michelangelo’s hand and rubbed it gently between his fingers. “Just a bit longer.”

“But it’s hot.” Michelangelo sniffled, “And I’m thirsty and hungry. Can we get a pizza?”

“Not now, Mikey.” It hurt Leonardo to decline his baby brother. He started to pull Michelangelo along to the next alley.

“Where are we going?”

“With any luck?” Leonardo peeked hesitantly over the parapet and risked pointing out a distant apartment building. “There.”

“There? That’s April’s building, isn’t it?”

Leonardo yanked Michelangelo’s head back down so they were flat once more, “Yes. That’s the point.”

“Why don’t we just take the sewers? Try and find dad and Donnie and Raph?”

“Those sewers are like a maze, Mike, and it's even worse not knowing where we are!”

“Then can’t we just portal...?”

“Not unless you want to get portal jacked by the blob again. Besides— I wouldn’t risk it anyway without a clear image of where we’re going. This isn’t our city Mike...”

“What do you mean?” Michelangelo stole another look over the landscape. “This is New York…”

Leonardo took one look at his brother and knew Michelangelo was telling a fib— Michelangelo’s eyes always went to pin pricks when he lied and his jaw would clench as he bit his tongue.

“Do you really think that, Mike?”

Michelangelo nodded weakly.

“No. No you don’t…”

Michelangelo hesitated a moment, then continued nodding. “Yeah…”

“It’s okay, hermano.” Leonardo pet Michelangelo’s shell, “I feel the same way. Think this has something to do with Big Mama?”

“I don’t see how she could do all this…” Michelangelo said, “Or… why she’d do all this. I mean, aren’t there easier ways to scare us?”

“Uh… then maybe it’s not Big Mama— maybe it’s some other yokai thing— maybe that oni…”

Leonardo was just spilling nonsense at that point. He shook his head and grabbed Michelangelo to tug him along to the next building. Once he made sure the coast was clear, he continued to talk.

“Listen, all I know is we could really use a familiar place right now and April’s apartment is the only one I can think of.”

“But… how do we even know if that’s April’s apartment? If this isn’t our city then… shouldn’t that not be our April?”

Leonardo refused to think about it for too long before simply pulling Michelangelo along once more. His silence seemed answer enough for Michelangelo, who didn't ask again. What did it matter if this wasn’t their world and it wouldn’t be their April waiting for them? As long as it was an April, Leonardo still wanted to see her. An April was an April no matter the world! And an April was always friends with her turtles…

****

April was finally getting back to her normal life; at normal as her life to get, at least. Shredder was gone once more and now so was Krang, and apart from the odd stealth missions the brothers requested of her, she was like any other human. She’d go to work at the news station and she’d always try to make each report unique and interesting— if not for her humans viewers, then at least for her four lonely friends she knew would be watching. Though at first keeping the secret had been almost painful, now it was like second nature to the news reporter. Less than two hundred people in the world were aware of her friends’s existence, and every time that number increased, even by just one, it put them in danger. She wouldn’t be the one to do that to them by telling even a single soul about them.

April was glad she didn't work Sundays. She got to sleep in and enjoy some her-time, which usually included lounging around in her pajamas all day scrolling through her phone and watching Netflix. Probably ordering takeout. Come nightfall, when the brothers were most active, she could count on them inviting her over to the lair for a game night— though it was usually more of a friendly kidnapping than an invitation. They’d play their games until long after midnight, usually with April spending the night at the lair, and April would wake up at six the next morning hating herself as she got ready for her shift at seven.

April had almost dozed off on the couch when a sharp knock came against her apartment door. She didn't immediately get up to answer it, her mind still swirling with the slumber she was snatched from.

“April? You in there? It’s Casey.”

April recognized the voice immediately, but still peeked through the peephole— with her life, she could never be too sure of anything. Once she confirmed it was Casey, she opened the door just a crack to peek out at him.

“Hey.” April smiled, “Oh, hi Casey.”

Casey smiled and waved, clearing his throat as he practically shoved a bouquet of flowers at her. “Uh. These are for you…”

April opened the door the rest of the way to accept the flowers with a smile. “Casey, you didn't have to do that!”

Casey shoved his hands in his pocket and looked away so April’s eyes couldn’t meet him. “I mean, you’re a girl… girl’s like flowers so…” He shifted nervously.

April couldn’t help but smile at the detective’s anxious movements, leaning against her door frame and staring at him with narrowed eyes. “So what, Detective Jones~?”

“So I was.. Mm… just wondering if you… and I… you know… it’s your day off… so…”

“You wanna go on a date.” April finished for him.

“Not— not a date! Just a… casual hangout… between friends…?”

“Right. Well just let me go get dressed and get my purse, okay? You can wait inside if you want.” She invited him inside and Casey accepted. “Just give me ten minutes.”

April took to her room to change. Even though she lived on one of the highest floors of the building, she still always made it a point to close her blinds when she was dressing. With drones and binoculars and horny mutant teenagers, it was better to have the comfort and security.She closed the blinds before starting to slip into a simple black dress, fixing her sloppy bun into a half-decent ponytail and brushing her fingers through it to rid herself of most of the knots. When she turned back to open the blinds, she hesitated.

The window was open...

#here comes April oneil!!#and Casey #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #tmnt au #leo #leonardo #Michelangelo #Mikey #rise turtles

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whump-cravings · 3 years

Text

Bird in a Ditch

saw a prompt about someone being dumped on the side of the road and an idea started to form. I’ve also wanted to try a BBU type thing, so here it iiiiiis

Content Warnings: BBU, pet whump, winged whump, nonhuman whump, fantastic racism referenced, extreme disassociation, past torture implied, tbh this piece is pretty mild

Lemon shook xir head to try and clear fatigue, keeping xir eyes on the road as xe leaned forward to manually roll the window down. Cool air blasted xim in the face and behind xir neck, sending refreshing shivers down xir spine.

Something glowed gold on the road and xe jerked the wheel, sliding into the other lane. "Feathers?" xe said, throwing xir gaze to catch another glimpse of the obstacle, already pulling over.

A downed barn owl? xe wondered, flicking the hazards on. Getting xir phone out, xe searched the cabin for a blanket or something to wrap the little dude in. If it wasn't dead, anyways. I better hurry. Another car could come by at any time.

"Probably already dead but just in case—" Lemon muttered to xirself, trying to forestall disappointment before it began. Xe surfaced with a canvas tarp and hustled out into the night, boots hitting asphalt. Xe was a little ways away from the bird...

As the phone's flashlight caught feathers again, Lemon frowned. That looked a lot bigger than an owl. Maybe an eagle, or—

Maybe a whole goddamn person? Xe stopped at the side of the ditch, looking down in shock at the humanoid body connected to the wings. Xe'd never seen any birdfolk up close. They were rare in this part of the world, where everybody was pretty damn racist.

That was neither here or there. Lemon shook xir head, dropping the canvas and propping the phone and its light up before carefully finding the top of the person’s outstretched wing and trying to gently-gently-gently fold it towards their body.

How did I mistake them for an owl? These are huge! Xe felt soft clicking underneath hands through the feathers and bone. Now up close, the feathers didn't seem to shine with the golden luster Lemon had seen before, but were instead dull and dirty.

"Sorry, sorry," Lemon murmured, though the person hadn't stirred. Concern buzzed in the back of xir head as xe stepped around to the face-down body.

Lemon crouched, slipping a hand down the side of neck and searched for a pulse. Still warm—there. Xe let out a sigh of relief at the rhythm beneath xir fingers. "Didn't want to have to report a dead body tonight," xe chuckled.

Xe moved xir hand to the bird person's shoulder, gently shaking. No reaction. "Of course, you wouldn't be lying in a ditch if you could wake up," Lemon muttered, straightening. Xir gaze traveled down, and xe picked up the phone to get a better look.

The bird person was wearing only boxers, so there was a lot to see. Mostly, they were dirty. And the wings looked terrible. Whole patches of feathers were missing, and the ones that remained—Lemon suspected those weren't supposed to look so bedraggled. Xe shook xir head, sympathy turning in xir gut. Poor thing. Had they been mugged and then dumped, or maybe crash landed here?

The situation presented a problem. It’s one thing to bring home an animal, xe thought to xirself. This is a whole person. If they were awake, Lemon would have given them a ride to wherever they needed to go and the little cash xe had on xirself.

Xir mother's voice rattled in the back of xir head. It wasn’t as dangerous for Lemon to pick up people off the side of the road as for xir sister, but their mother always had some new story about somebody being shot and having their car stolen when they mentioned picking somebody up.

Xe waffled. I could wait until they wake up... Assuming they didn’t die of exposure, and assuming xe didn’t want any sleep tonight. Xe glanced around at the dark road, then back down at the stranger. If they were unconscious like this and didn’t smell of alcohol, they probably weren’t that dangerous. And somebody who felt less neutral about birdfolk might come along to finish them off.

Lemon sighed, already knowing xe couldn’t leave them here and trying to figure out how to get them over and into to the truck. Maybe xe could carry them there, but the wings would probably drag. Xe tried imagining walking backwards while carrying them from the front. Could xe lift them high enough? Probably not.

"Tch." That wouldn't do. After a moment's consideration, xe looked back at the canvas.

It took some pulling and maneuvering, but soon Lemon was pulling the bird person across the road on top of the canvas. Xir sweatshirt was tucked underneath their head, keeping them safe from rocks.

"Expected you to be a lot heavier, honestly," Lemon said. Maybe the weight was normal for adult birdfolk.

It would have been way more comfortable for them, Lemon was sure, to be in the cabin, but xe wasn’t sure xe could manage that without damaging their wings further. So, xe carefully lifted them by the front and laid them face down in the truck bed. It was not graceful and xe was a little relieved they weren’t awake for it. Xe tucked the sweatshirt back under the person's head.

"Home is just a few minutes away," xe promised as xe tried folding up their wings, worried about the wind catching them or about hypothermia setting in. Xe unfurled the canvas with a shake, then draped it over the bird person's body and wings to block the wind, securing the cloth at the corners with bungee cords.

Looks like I'm trying to hide a dead body, Lemon thought when xe put the tailgate up. "Hang in there, buddy."

Lemon would have liked to speed home, but the bed's occupant had xem driving far more carefully than normal, particularly around corners. When xe got to the apartment, xe pulled into xir spot in reverse. It was a much shorter distance to carry somebody from the truck bed to the door, so Lemon did—xe wasn’t entirely sure xe could get them through the door otherwise. It was already a hassle to get them past one door, the next, and then settle them on the floor of the small bathroom against the wall.

Xe closed and locked the front door, then flicked lights on. As xe stepped back into the bathroom, careful to avoid any errant limbs, xe started.

The bird person's eyes were open.

"Hey, you're awake," Lemon exclaimed.

But the person didn't seem to hear Lemon--they hardly seemed aware of their surroundings at all, staring straight forward. Shit, had they been awake the entire time and Lemon just hadn’t noticed? How awkward that would be! And...

Xir realized their face was covered in scars. Unable to help xirself, xir eyes were drawn down. Mottled bruising covered their ribs, long-healed scars past that and the dirt. Same with their legs. What had happened to them? Was this just the result of being birdfolk here?

Xe took a steadying breath, crouching down. "Hey, can you hear me? Can you look at me?"

Finally, the tiniest response. Topaz eyes slid fractionally towards Lemon's center of mass, but nothing else. Their expression and muscles remained listless.

"Good, that's—no no no, come on, don't do that," Lemon cajoled in gentle frustration as the bird person closed their eyes. What am I supposed to do with this? Xe scrubbed xir tired face with one hand. What were the symptoms of a concussion?

"Let me get you something to drink," xe said. "And maybe eat?"

No response. The only sign they were still alive was the gentle rise and fall of their chest.

Lemon wearily got back to xir feet, ambling into the kitchen for a glass of water and some—did bird people eat normal food? They looked plenty human. But what if they were allergic to stuff? Xe grabbed a small variety of snacks—string cheese and pepperoni from the fridge and a little baggy of trail mix. Bundling the food into a paper towel in one hand and holding the glass of water in the other, xe returned to the bathroom.

"Here we go," Lemon said as xe returned, kneeling at arm's length to set down the array of food. Xe set the cup of water closer still. "Little bit of food, little bit of water."

Their eyes were open again, looking down at Lemon's offerings. Maybe. It was hard to tell for sure, since they seemed unfocused. They made no movement to accept.

"Does your head hurt?" Lemon tried. "If you have a concussion, we should..." Xe trailed off. I don't have money for an emergency doctor visit. "Have you lie down, probably."

It's like talking to a rock. "I'll give you some space."

Getting back to xir feet, Lemon went back into the kitchen and washed xir hands. Xe probably should have done that earlier, but if they haven’t died of dirt already, they probably won't from a little on their pepperoni.

"Might as well prep a meal," xe mumbled, since xe couldn’t sleep until xir guest was settled. Xe took a moment to draw up some videos online about birdfolk and birds in general, then got to work with the food.

About twenty minutes later, everything was assembled in the pressure cooker. Lemon hadn't heard anything from the direction of the bathroom. Anxious, xe checked on xir guest.

I'm going to have someone die on my floor of starvation and atrophy, Lemon thought. The bird person was in the same exact position xe’d left them. Their tourmaline-brown gaze still rested on the food and water.

Lemon chided xirself. They could be a paraplegic for all xe knew. Maybe their eyes were all they were able to move. It would explain their weight.

This thought in mind, xe crouched a little closer to them. "Hey," xe said. "Can you blink twice if you understand me?"

Their eyes slowly rolled back up to Lemon's chest. Noticeably, they didn't blink.

Lemon laced xir fingers together and pulled them apart, repeating the motion a few times while they thought. Could be he was a paraplegic foreigner? Hells.

Reaching out slowly, Lemon tapped their hand, before picking it up and turning it over. Xe froze.

On their wrist was a black barcode.

After staring for far too long, Lemon let out a shaky, "O-oh."

I'm going to have someone's slave die on my floor. Xir anger towards the Box Boy industry stirred—a regular feeling. The legalized trafficking wasn’t something xe could do much about, other small donations here and there to liberation and activist groups.

Who had dumped this poor bird on the side of the road? Where was the owner? Lemon's eyes went to their patchy wings.

"Can't be sure they didn't do this to you," xe said softly, jaw clenching at the idea of it. They could have very well escaped and ended up in that ditch on their own, just to get away from the abuse written on their body. It matched up with the stories Lemon had heard and read about how owners fucked their slaves over.

Fuck, and it wasn't even like this man was nondescript. Birdfolk were rare enough, a Pet bird was sure to be noticed in a crowd. Stealing a Pet was grand larceny, and Lemon didn’t want to think about how much an exotic specimen might go for.

Calm down. So far all you've done is provide aid. That's not theft.

But Lemon's hands shook as xe held onto the bird person's, because xe knew xe couldn't—

That's a problem for Future Lemon, xe decided, taking calming breaths. There were groups xe could contact, but not tonight. Tonight, this poor bird needed a safe and calm place to recuperate. Lemon could provide that.

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fanficflaneuse · 4 years

Text

All Of You

Index

A/N: After a couple of odd weeks, I’m back and I’m really happy to be posting again. Dear freaking god. I’m excited for you to read my first Theo fic ever. I’m really happy for it.

Also, I saw a mutual celebrating their 100 followers and I realized I never did anything to celebrate my followers. I never expected my blog to have followers lol but now I have 196 and I want to dedicate this fic I love to all of you. Thank you all for bearing with me <3

Without further ado, let’s do this!

Theo Nott x reader

Words: 2679

Summary: Friends with benefits gone wrong.

Warnings: mentions of sex (not smut, but still).

The room exuded fire whiskey and regret as (Y/N) picked her clothes from the floor. The light that filtered through the closed curtains hinted a very sunny day, perfect for the throbbing headache coming her way. Her head pounded with flashbacks from the night before and every time she remembered another detail of the colossal mistake she had committed, she cursed herself.

She slumped on an elegant armchair and considered her options. She could leave unceremoniously and forget all about their encounter, pretend it was a drunken mistake. For a moment, she wished they would’ve had enough alcohol the night before to call this a “drunken mistake”. But they were both more sober than expected as they reached his room, lips connected and hands eager to explore each other.

(Y/N) cursed at herself once again as her gaze found the man on the bed. Theodore Nott looked peaceful as he slept, no trace of sadness clouding his angelic features. His chest raised and fell softly, an arm thrown over his forehead and the other one reaching out to the empty space in bed where she had woken up. Only Merlin knows how long she had fantasized about him, how many times she had wished to kiss his lips and feel him close. She could’ve been happy with everything that had happened the night before, if only that one memory didn’t keep replaying in her head:

Theo was sitting on the edge of his bed, she was on his lap. His lips made their way from her left shoulder to her ear.

“(Y/N),” he had whispered.

“Hmm?”

He cleared his throat. “Whatever is about to happen right now…I-I really can’t do feelings.”

(Y/N) remembered asking herself what could she possibly do with that information. He was the guy she had been ogling at practically since day one at Hogwarts. Not even of four years of not seeing each other had killed whatever they had going on between them. But before she could even think, she sealed the deal.

“No feelings.”

The words slipped from her mouth like a hot knife through butter. If only they were half as easy to digest. She sighed and stood up, determined to leave before Theo woke up.

“Where are you going?” His voice was groggy and almost childlike. It melted (Y/N)’s heart and she turned around in shame.

Theo and (Y/N) found each other at a bar the night before. It was the first time they met since Sixth year, when they were potions partners and tried desperately to brush each other’s hand as many times as possible. (Y/N) remembered how he’d blush every time they touched, how that blush gave her butterflies as she thought of him as delightfully awkward.

Then the war bulldozed into their lives. Theo dropped out of Hogwarts and stayed in his mansion, not wanting to partake in any of it. His father was a death eater, everyone knew that. And even if he didn’t fight the good fight, (Y/N) was relieved not to see him cross to the dark side like Draco did. She, on the other hand, stayed in the school and opposed Voldemort. They never saw each other again.

Three years later, (Y/N)’s need to escape a terribly dull blind date and Theo’s desire to drown his loneliness with music and fire whiskey had them sitting side by side again. (Y/N) and Theo could probably count the amount of times they had spoken to each other with one hand. And yet, she remembered him as her first Hogwarts friend and he thought of her as a very close one. There was always this energy surrounding them. It made (Y/N)’s head spin and Theo’s convoluted mind turn to putty.

The kisses in the back of the bar didn’t come as a surprise to either of them. Neither did the question that lead them to his house. And the heavy petting, the intense make out, the fire whiskey consumed after the promise, the lips and hands lingering and traveling…they were all the natural course of something with no name or description that had started the first time they set foot on the Hogwarts express.

...

First years buzzed through the train in excitement. They talked over each other, got high on candy and agitation and walked from one compartment to the next in search of new people to befriend. The general enthusiasm of the first train ride infected even the most knowledgeable purebloods. All but one of them. A lonely first year by the name of Theodore Nott, too shy and self-conscious to engage with the other children, kept to himself in a carriage. He stared out the window, trying to mute the muffled laughter by taking in the scenery.

“Can I seat here? Every other compartment is full.”

Theo’s head snapped as he heard those words. They stared at each other for a minute. The newcomer, a girl who just a few minutes ago had echoed other kids’ laughter, found Theo striking. She liked the single brown curl falling on his forehead and his greenish-blue eyes that seemed to enclose too much sadness for eleven years of age. He looked like a melancholic cherub.

Too curious for her own good, (Y/N) wanted to know absolutely everything about this enigmatic boy that didn’t seem unfazed by the perspective of travelling to a magical school.

He nodded eagerly, prompting more curls to cover his face. She giggled softly as she made her way to the seat in front of him. Theo found her very pretty. He was suddenly very aware of how lame he must’ve seemed. Theo gulped, racking his brain for something to say and finding absolutely nothing. He hadn’t interacted with many kids his age and, to his absolute mortification, it showed.

“I am (Y/N). What is your name?” she asked sweetly.

“Theo,” he muttered so softly she couldn’t quite catch it.

They spent the rest of the train ride in silence. (Y/N) was a bit appalled. She thought about leaving in search of some more boisterous company to share her thrill with. She couldn’t, though. The stillness that engulfed them was enticing. It was certainly awkward, but also comfortable and even safe. It was as though they had built a sense of complicity in a matter of minutes. They sneaked glances at each other until the Hogwarts express reached its destination.

Only during the sorting did (Y/N) recognize her companion as Theodore Nott, a Slytherin and her first Hogwarts friend.

If someone had ever told her that years later she’d be wearing his button-down and nothing else as they giggled on his bed, she probably wouldn’t have understood what they meant. But here she was. A few months into their affair they had fallen into an easy routine. There were no rules and no particular agreements, but they both knew what they were and how people labelled what they had.

Friends with benefits weren’t meant to cuddle with each other after sex. They weren’t meant to be so tender and spend hours talking nonsense and caressing each other. They weren’t meant to have each other for dinner at least once a week or be seen together. And, more importantly, they weren’t meant to fall for each other.

(Y/N) wondered how long this would last as they laid on their sides, staring at each other. Not a sound came from their lips. He was giving her a sweet lopsided grin. The stillness that engulfed them was, once again, enticing. It was not awkward, but still felt comfortable and safe. They are accomplices now.

...

The Yule Ball was the most awaited event of fourth year. It was the night everyone would talk about for ages. (Y/N) arrived late and left early, as one does. She didn’t particularly enjoy the petty drama her friends were involved in, so she decided to leave the Great Hall in favour of some fresh air.

As she stepped on the courtyard, she expected anything but finding Theo Nott sitting on a bench. She approached without giving it much thought.

“Mind if I sit with you? Every other place is already taken,” she said humorously.

Theo smiled and made space for her. They sat in silence for a while, the complicity from the train somehow still intact. After a while of silence, he gathered all his courage and stood up. (Y/N) had a view of his very expensive looking suit, his hair with its usual curl covering his forehead, his eyes shining dangerously with something else than the usual melancholy.

“Would you dance with me, (Y/N)?” he asked, his voice showing a confidence he didn’t know he had.

(Y/N) was surprised he even knew her name. She stood up as well, flattered and also a bit embarrassed. “Shall we go back inside?”

He shook his head, the impish grin matching that glint in his eyes. “I never said anything about going back inside.”

(Y/N)’s knees buckled as he pulled her to his chest. They danced in the courtyard to the muffled sounds that came from the Great Hall. (Y/N) prided herself in being a decent dancer, but Theo was something else. He twirled her, guided her and taught her with great care. Mesmerized, she held onto him until there was no more music left and he insisted on walking her to her common room.

They walked side by side, his fingers barely touching the small of her back. They were, once again, enveloped in peaceful quietness, only interrupted by the clacking of her heels.

“Where did you learn to dance the mazurka?” she wondered aloud.

(Y/N) noticed how he puffed his chest. She could hear the smile in his voice when he said that his mum had taught him.

“She must be quite the dancer,” (Y/N) complemented, only to see the smile fading immediately.

“She was,” he whispered very softly, eyes fixed in some distant point in the horizon.

(Y/N) wanted to say something else, but nothing seemed appropriate. As they reached the common room, kissed the back of her hand before leaving to his dorm.

“What are you thinking about?” Theo murmured in her ear. She was sitting between his legs, her white sheets pooling around them. Before she could answer, he gently brushed her hair off her shoulder and placed kisses on the sensitive spot behind her ear.

She bit her lip to restrain a moan. This man had learned how to get a reaction from her. He now knew how to get her all worked up in a matter of seconds. She was not complaining one bit.

“I’m just remembering the Yule Ball,” she offered offhandedly.

He hummed pleasantly in response. “You know? Everyone made a fuss about how Hermione Granger looked like a princess that night. But you, darling, you looked like a queen.”

His voice sent shivers down her spine. She cursed every deity in the book because damn, Theodore Nott could be suave if he wanted to. (Y/N) smiled contently as he pulled her back to bed.

...

“So, Theodore,” said Pansy with mocking seriousness. He knew what was coming and was prepared to shrug it off. “When will you introduce us to your girlfriend?”

Blaise chuckled and Draco raised his eyebrows playfully. Theo wanted to roll his eyes playfully, but knew he would never pull it off, especially not after the last few months with (Y/N). He nervously scratched the back of his neck.

“She…she’s not my girlfriend,” he stammered.

“Oh! But there’s a she,” Blaise pointed out.

Theo looked away, wanting to facepalm himself hard. He hadn’t realized they were that obvious. But they were. And for some reason he didn’t care one bit. He just didn’t know how to be a boyfriend and didn’t want to hurt her (or himself…even further).

“What is it then? Are you just shagging?” Daphne said the word as though it burned her mouth.

“You know Daph, friends with benefits. All the advantages and none of the drama,” said Pansy as she put an arm around the blonde, “we should’ve tried that instead.”

Daphne rolled her eyes. “As if you didn’t love to be my girlfriend, Pansy Marguerite Parkinson.”

Pansy smiled widely and kissed her girlfriend. Draco pretended to gag.

“Keep pretending that you’re not the biggest sap on the planet, Draco Lucius Malfoy,” teased Blaise.

Theo would’ve laughed at his friends’ antics, if only (Y/N) hadn’t come in to the bar. She was wearing that green dress she knew he adored. Her hair was up and she was wearing more make up than usual. She looked absolutely stunning.

As she took a seat at a nearby table, Theo remembered all those times he sneaked glances at her during their days at Hogwarts. She’d seat across the room, surrounded by people and laughing. And he’d admire her from afar, never daring to talk to her and only dedicating her soft smiles whenever they met in the hallways.

His friends seemed to realize the reason for his abstraction and they all eyed her curiously. (Y/N) suddenly stood up to greet somebody. Theo was taken aback when she hugged one of the Weasley twins, who took her in way too eagerly for his liking and kissed her cheek way too close to her lips. Theo had never considered himself a jealous person. Hell, he seldom showed emotions. But this he absolutely hated and didn’t bother do hide it.

The group of former Slytherins stared in awe as their friend slammed his fist on the table. He muttered a quick “sorry” and left the bar without saying goodbye.

...

“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?” he asked, not even bothering to hide the surprise and hurt from his voice or demeanour. Theo noticed how she had kept a safe distance between them, preferring to seat on an armchair rather than the by his side on the couch.

“Theo…” she tried to reason.

(Y/N) broke the most basic rule of a situation like theirs. She had completely fallen for him. She knew she was into him since the very first time she had woken up in his bed, but for a while she at least pretended she could enjoy it without getting hurt. Then, the casual hook ups turned into cuddle sessions and those turned into dates. Still, her stubbornness made her continue with the affair. She convinced herself she could live with it.

That was until Theo opened his heart to her. He realized he had found someone he could truly be vulnerable with and he let her into his heart. He told her about his childhood, about how he had seen his father assassinate his mother and the sadness that had never abandoned him afterwards. He told her he was never afraid of dementors because he felt he was always walking with one over his shoulder. They had cried together that night and she decided her heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked in defeat. He mentally kicked himself for being too much and not enough.

“Of course not. It’s not that Theo,” she mended quickly.

“Then what?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath. “I miss you when I wake up alone. I love cuddling and coddling you. I want you. All of you, Theo. I don’t just want to be your occasional hook up. I can’t do that anymore.”

She wrapped her arms around herself. Theo studied her for a minute, his intense gaze making her self-conscious.

“Don’t you realize I gravitate towards your company like you’re the only other person in the planet, (Y/N)?” he asked, suddenly feeling very dramatic.

She was frozen in her place. His face softened completely and lunged forward, kneeling in front of her and taking her face in his hands.

“Love,” he whispered, “this stopped being an occasional hook up a long time ago.”

She smiled at him sweetly. “Really?”

He nodded, his messy curls falling to his forehead just like he knew she liked it. “And…and I also want you. All of you,” he said triumphantly.

tags: @honeymarvel @rvnsclws @naomi02hook @the-hufflefluffwriter

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ahkaahshi · 3 years

Text

12:27 AM [kuroo tetsurou x reader]

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem reader (platonic relationship)

genre: fluff and angst

warning(s): swearing, brief mentions of alcohol consumption

word count: 2.8k

overview: you go on one, final late night food run with your best friend to commemorate your last evening in tokyo

notes: as stated above, the reader and kuroo’s relationship here is purely platonic. it just felt right. also, this one’s a bit more dialogue-heavy than usual, but it’s intentional :) hope you enjoy!

At 12:27 AM, Kuroo’s standing in the kitchen, poring over an open cupboard of food—none of which seems to fulfill his cravings. Tapping the toes of his house slippers against the tiled floor, he sends a glance over at where you’re sitting on the couch, watching the movie he’d put on with rapt attention. His attempts at successfully blocking out thoughts of what’s to come tomorrow are foiled once more when his gaze settles on the luggage waiting patiently in the entryway.

“Hey, (f/n),” he calls out to you, shutting the cabinets in front of him and turning away from them. The eyebrow you raise at him expectantly has him continuing, “Whaddya say to going on one, last late-night food run in the city with your old pal?”

With a snicker, you toss the mountains of blankets off your body and stand up as you say, “You act as if today’s my last day on the planet, Tetsu.”

“Seriously, though, who knows when we’ll be able to do this again?” he wonders, “Might as well live like it’s your last day on the planet, even if it’s just for a night, right?”

You shake your head as you pull on an old Nekoma hoodie out of your backpack that matches the one he’s wearing. “Quit it, dumbass; you’re gonna make me all sentimental.”

A grin spreads across his lips and he gives you a playful shake once the two of you have stepped into your shoes and left his home. It warms your heart but shatters it at the same time, since you’re painfully aware of the fact that tonight will be the last time you see it in person for what could be months. And if his words hadn’t already made you a bit emotional, the drive through Tokyo would’ve done the trick.

He rolls the windows of his car down, letting in the cool, nighttime air that whistles past as the vehicle picks up speed. In an effort he wants to seem as spontaneous as possible, he plays music from a playlist the two of you had made together back when you were in high school, shouting and dancing along to the lyrics of every song with you with an enthusiasm that has you doubling over in your seat with laughter.

Every stoplight gives other drivers and pedestrians buzzing around the bustling downtown area the opportunity to shoot you judgmental looks or those of entertainment, but you’re too busy living in the moment with him that you barely notice or even care, for that matter. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but you don’t bother to ask. Instead, you find yourself lost in admiring the dazzling array of lights passing you by during your drive through the lively city. Knowing you’ll be in a new one by this time tomorrow has you gazing upon everything you’d simply passed by before without a second thought with a newfound appreciation and lingering nostalgia.

Eventually, after Kuroo’s impressed you by maneuvering his car into a tighter parking spot than you thought he could fit in, you find your destination is a small restaurant tucked away in one of the back alleys aglow with neon signs. Though it’s packed to the brim with other patrons enjoying a late-night meal, there’s plenty of conversation between you and your friend to fill the time you spend waiting for a table.

Once you’re inside, you bask in the warmth heavy with the delicious smell of fresh food as the two of you sit together and reminisce over steaming bowls of ramen. “You know one thing I’ll never forget?” Kuroo begins, fishing out a few plump noodles with his chopsticks. You glance over at him expectantly while you blow on the broth in your spoon and he chuckles before adding, “The look on Lev’s face when he hit you in the back of the head during warmups and you gave him the coldest stare I’ve ever seen.”

“I felt so bad when I realized it was him, though, ‘cause I thought it was you!” you defend.

Kuroo’s unoccupied hand flies to his chest to complete the feigned look of shock on his face. “And you were gonna look at me like that if it was?”

“You were always aiming for me, Tetsu.”

“You were always on the court!”

“Helping Coach toss and keeping hitters like you from fucking up your ankles by coming down on stray volleyballs, you asshole.”

Kuroo shrugs and comments, “I never hit you hard, though,” and moves another serving of noodles to his lips. “Just wanted to keep our beloved manager on her toes is all.”

With an incredulous scoff, you retort, “Yeah, you did that, alright. And even well into uni, too.”

There’s a pause in your conversation as you both take a moment to enjoy your food before Kuroo questions, “Could you please submit your evidence to the court?”

“Halloween,” you state, (e/c) eyes laser focused on his own, hazel ones. He’s narrowing them, as if he’s trying to remember the event in question, so you help him out by continuing, “You and Kou were insistent on coming with me to a raging house party that night. The two of you got so, annoyingly drunk that you were laughing at the top of your lungs like hyenas about videos of pets dressed up in costumes at three in the morning.”

He raises a finger contemplatively. “I might’ve blacked out, but that does sound like something I’d do.”

“In that case, you probably forgot about all the noise complaints I got, then; and how the owner of the place came to scold me in person.”

A bashful grin forms on his lips at the memory you’ve reminded him of, and he concedes, “Alright, alright; we’ve both done a lot of stupid shit in the time we’ve known each other, so let’s just leave it at that. Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to remind you of the time you lost your bikini top in the ocean and were too mortified to move, so you made me swim in and get it, right?”

“This conversation is over,” you declare, face growing hot with embarrassment as a vivid image of the moment in question flashes across your mind.

As the two of you continue enjoying your delicious meals and reminiscing about other, more positive experiences you’ve shared together, you feel the knot that’s been settled in the pit of your stomach for what seems to be weeks now make itself known once more. In spite of your outward calmness and enthusiasm, you were starting to have trouble hiding your nervousness. The last thing you’d wanted was for anyone to notice and try to talk you out of your decision, but Kuroo’s far more perceptive than most and knows you well enough to understand what you’re thinking.

When the two of you finish your meals and find the strength to scoot out of your chairs, he notices the way you gaze longingly at your surroundings. He catches sight of the gentle glimmer of emotion in your eyes as you request that he drive you anywhere he wants—just to hold off on going back to his place for a bit longer. And each time he takes his eyes off the road ahead to cast a glance in your direction, he finds your attention fixated on all the buildings and people that pass by.

But it’s not until the two of you arrive at a nearly empty parking lot outside a large, sprawling park that he decides to bring up the question of what’s on your mind. “Hey, (f/n),” he says, making you turn on your heels to face him where you’d been standing a few feet away from his car, watching the twinkling lights in the distance. He looks so carefree, perched on the hood of his vehicle, hands shoved into the pockets of his black joggers, whereas you’re much more on edge, trying to keep your foot-tapping against the loose gravel to a minimum.

“Hmm?”

He purses his lips for a moment before answering slowly, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while—the last day we’d spend together. And it’s one of those things that you just can’t really prepare yourself for, no matter how hard you try to, y’know?” The muscles around your brow relax, and your expression becomes more curious upon being pulled out of your worrisome thoughts. “I know how I’m feeling, but how are you holding up?”

Your fingers interlace themselves as you bite the inside of your cheek. Even if you want to, there’s no bullshitting Kuroo. Not when he’s seen you in every state you can imagine and is often one to pick up on your feelings before you’re even aware they exist, though he often brings them to your attention with a more lighthearted approach than most would think appropriate to take. Doesn’t mean he cares any less, however; and you can see the genuine concern in his hazel eyes shining a paler color in the white moonlight.

“I’m excited,” you tell him. With the way your heart’s pounding in your chest, you’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear its pulse in your voice. Moving towards him to occupy the space on the hood beside him, you take a deep breath and look up at him. “But I’m terrified at the same time.” It’s instantaneous, the way you lean into his touch the moment he slings his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “Since we were kids, I was always talking about wanting to move to another country, remember?”

“I thought you just said that to make me sad whenever I pissed you off.”

You lightly swat his chest and argue, “Oh, be quiet.” But, before you can continue with what you were going to say, you find yourself focused on the words he’d spoken instead. “Wait, did you actually mean that?”

With a gentle chuckle, he shrugs. “Nah, I was joking.” The adam’s apple in his throat bobs when he turns his attention towards the sky and admits, “But I always did get a little sad whenever you mentioned it. Still do.” A moment of silence filled with the distant sounds of traffic and the chirping of insects ensues during which you watch your fingers toy with the aglets hanging off your hoodie. “I mean, come on, now; what kinda kid wants one of his best friends to move away when he knows how big the world is but how singular and small he is?”

“Tetsu,” you murmur softly, feeling your lip tremble with emotion and your eyes sting with oncoming tears, “You’ve always been there for me through, like, everything. Or, at least, it feels that way. Part of the reason why I’m so scared of leaving is because I’m gonna be all by myself, in a brand-new place, just thrown into the deep end of things and having to teach myself how to swim all over again. But another part of it is because I’m gonna be away from you. And even now, as an adult, I still don’t wanna move away from my best friend.”

He doesn’t even have to look at you or hear you sniffle to know you’re crying, and he tightens his grip around you, placing his other hand on your back. Appreciative of the gesture, you bury your face in the soft fabric of his sweatshirt and pull him into an embrace so you can hold onto him for a few, long moments that you wish didn’t have to end.

“Hey, it’s all good as long as you don’t forget about me once you make it big out there, okay?” His tone is teasing and lighthearted, as per usual, but you can hear the subtlest break in his voice that has more tears cascading down your cheeks and pooling in the creases of his sweater.

“I’m not gonna forget you—I could never—but, what if I can’t do it?” you whimper, “What if I get there and I hate the job, or I hate my coworkers, or I hate life over there? Then I’ll be stuck out there with no one.”

Rubbing your back gently, he assures you, “If worst comes to worst, you can come back home and regroup. You’ll always have a place to stay here. Well… unless I get super famous and end up being offered a job to travel around the world.” You can’t help but snicker at his comment, and neither can he. “Even if I’m not physically there, I’ll always be there in spirit. And don’t discount the possibility of me showing up at your doorstep, since we know I have a tendency to do that.”

“Like a stray cat I keep feeding.”

“Exactly. Maybe you’ll even get two if I can convince Kenma to come with me. We’ll have to see how long he can survive off his Switch alone.”

Your bodies both shake with laughter for a few moments before you pull away from each other, and his hands slide onto your shoulders to give them a firm squeeze. Keeping your head lowered for a moment, you drag the sleeves of your hoodie across your eyes to wipe up any stray tears you hadn’t left on his. When your gazes meet, though, the confidence in his almost entirely dissolves the knot that’s been building in your stomach for so long.

“Hey.” He shakes you gently, and you jokingly let your head roll about, eliciting more snickers from both of your mouths before looking at him expectantly and with your full attention. “Don’t let the worst-case scenario hold you back from something that could be great. You’re so quick to think about how likely the worst possible thing is to happen, but why can’t the best be just as likely?”

Playfully, you tease, “Wow, seems like someone’s trying to get me outta here,” with a smirk.

“(F/n),” he sighs, sending a long plume of steam upwards from his mouth. Giving you a firm pat on the arm, he admits, “I’m gonna miss you like hell. But this is what you’ve been wanting for so long, and I want you to do it so badly. Partly so I can say that I have a vacation property abroad, but mostly because you know I want the best for you, since you deserve it.”

Your lip quakes once again at his confession, but you manage to blink back the tears this time and crack a smile. “Okay. But if you’d better not get even the slightest bit sentimental or teary-eyed tomorrow or else I’m gonna cry like a bitch all the way through the airport.”

“Eyes will be dry as long as you promise to video call me the second you land so I can go on the cab ride with you and see the whole, cute apartment reveal thing that’s so trendy these days.”

A mixture of a giggle and a gentle sob leaves your mouth as you watch his figure distorted by your swimming vision rise from the hood of his car. You feel warm hands on your wrists pulling you up onto your feet before you’re ensconced in another tight hug while Kuroo rocks from one foot to the other.

“You’re gonna be fine.”

After giving you a squeeze hard enough to push the air out of your lungs, he releases his grasp around you and opens the door on the passenger’s side so you can climb in and retreat from the coldness of the night. “With all these emotions plus the food, I’m gonna knock out so fast when we get home,” you mumble with a soft sniffle, reaching for the packet of tissues in his glove compartment once he’s settled in the driver’s seat.

He scoffs and furrows his eyebrows at you as he sticks his keys in the ignition. “Who said you were sleeping tonight? You’ve got the whole plane ride tomorrow to do that.”

“Alright, you can’t blame me for being cranky, then.”

With a shake of the head, he shifts the car into reverse so he can back out of the parking lot and start the journey back to his home. While the music you’d been blasting earlier plays softly from the speakers, you rest your head on the door once more to watch your familiar surroundings breeze by outside.

“Tetsurou.” You glance over at him and his head of haphazardly styled hair that you’re sure won’t fit on the screen of your phone the next time you see him, and his eyes meet yours when he brings the car to a halt at a stop sign. “Thanks for spending my so-called last night on the planet with me.”

extra that didn’t make the cut: kuroo didn’t shed a tear at the airport until after he thought you’d left. but you’d actually just hid somewhere and caught him with watery eyes. you still video called him as soon as you landed, though.

when night falls masterlist ⭐︎ treat me to a coffee!

taglists (send an ask to be added to the when night falls taglist!)

when night falls: @aoyukai, @why-aminot-dead, @yamagucji, @toutorii, @shibayamasbae, @tsukkisbean, @devlovesiwa-channn, @captain-shittykawa, @ghblh, @postsfromthe6, @omibaby, @deerixiie

general: @dinablossom, @newfriendjen, @ohbyunhunn, @aftcrlust, @mister-future, @kyleclxin, @kac-chowsballs, @osamusmiya, @nit-sir-hc, @arixtsukki, @shinsurou, @ichorizaki, @dominikmagnus, @tendo-sxtori, @krynnza

kuroo: @lotsoffandomrecs, @heyhinata, @cuddlysoftbear

#haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo x reader #x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #reader insert #kuroo tetsurou #tw alcohol mention #fran writes hq!!#ahkaahshi//wnf

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.11 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch finally has Edge's address, but as always seems to happen in this town, answering one question only makes two more spring up to take its place.

Read ‘Unconventional Wisdom’ on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

The dog spent all morning napping behind the counter, not rising for broom bristles nudging him nor Stretch stepping over him awkwardly so he could grab a few boxes from the top shelf to fill up the front racks. He did snore loud enough to be heard over the radio, but eh, so did Red so Stretch was used to it.

It wasn’t until the jangling cowbell over the door heralded the arrival of a group of kids that the pup gave up on his snoring and wandering out to inspect the new arrivals, tail already happily wagging. Predictably, the kiddos were enamored of their newest employee, although guard dog might be overstating things a bit. Okay, maybe a lot; it looked like Red hadn’t been able to get back to sleep last night because the once-filthy dog with a mess of tangled fur was now freshly washed and brushed, and he smelled a lot like the shower gel from Red’s bathroom. Cleaned up, he was a handsome dog, looking as fluffy as an enormous toasted marshmallow. Not exactly threatening, fluffykins here was probably gonna spend most of his shift on moral support duty.

The little girl who was currently the main recipient of the dog’s enthusiastic face licking giggled and asked, “What’s his name?”

“uh.” That gave Stretch a pause. He shrugged. “doesn’t have a name yet, i’ll have to ask red what he thinks.”

“Should name him Rover,” one boy put in helpfully.

Another boy chimed in, “Or Bingo!”

“Cheeseburger!” A little gal firmly declared as though no other name would do and Stretch couldn’t help laughing.

“is that a name suggestion or a lunch request?” he teased. All the kids giggled, including the one who’d suggested the name and Stretch gave one of her pigtails a gentle tug. “tell you what, here.” He pulled out a pad of paper from under the counter, flipped past the pages filled with inventory lists and cribbage scores to a blank one and wrote carefully at the top, ‘Name Our Dog’. He set it in one corner of the counter triumphantly, “there! now anyone can suggest a name and red can choose the best one.”

All the kids seemed in agreement that this was the best course of action, each taking a turn to scribble their suggestion on the sheet. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if ‘Cheeseburger’ was at the top of Red’s picks.

The kids eventually abandoned the dog and started a round of intense negotiations over what penny treats to buy today. Stretch left them to it, settling to sit on the stool to wait for them to bring up their selections to the register. His mind wandered idly back to newest side quest: getting to 637 Wood’s End Drive.

He’d already tried to look the address up on his phone’s GPS and wasn’t too surprised to see that it didn’t come up, naw, that would be too easy. So, first was figuring out how to get there and second would be figuring out how to get there. Not like he had a car and somehow, he doubted that Backwater had a thriving Uber economy. Maybe he could hitch a lift with someone? People were always coming into town in those big ol’ pickup trucks and the folks around here were pretty friendly, plus Edge seemed to be pretty well known. They all probably knew exactly where Edge lived and stopped by for pie and tea all the time. Surely someone would be delighted to help out, particularly if they were one of the lookie-loos from Mama’s who wanted to see Stretch and Edge on another man date, thank-you-but-no-thank-you.

That would probably be the easiest way to go about it, but Stretch found he was strangely reluctant to take that route. It felt a little like cheating, considering the roundabout way Edge went about handed out his address.

Anyway, if he’d wanted to go down that path, he could’ve simply asked Red days ago, but that right there was an entirely different can of worms that he didn’t want to share with any of the early birds. Red never forbade him from hanging out with Edge, but he’d been pretty clear time and again that he wasn’t too keen on it, either. Might be best if he kept any mentions of Edge to a minimum unless Red brought him up first.

He’d just figure it out himself, thanks, and he wasn’t any puzzle master, not like his bro was, but he had a little pride buried around here somewhere. Edge set him a challenge, damn it, and he was gonna see it through.

His absent gaze strayed down to the pile of bicycles outside the store, kid-sized, sure, but hey, wait a second—

“hey, guys,” Stretch said slowly, and the debate on whether to get two packs of everlasting gobstoppers or three paused as a half-dozen heads perked up like prairie dogs from a sugary plain. “if i wanted to buy a bicycle around here, where would i go?”

Heads ducked down again in a hastily whispered conversation, then the spokeskid popped up again and said, decisively, “Try over at the thrift shop. Miss Maggie always has old bikes for sale.”

“thanks.” He should’ve known. The only other option right in town was the tractor supply shop and while driving up on a John Deere would make a hell of an impression, it was probably well out of his price range. The kids crowded over with their handfuls of spoils and Stretch dutifully rang them up and if he tossed in a dime of his own to cover them, eh, wasn’t like they’d ever know. He handed over a paper sack of treats to a chorus of thank yous and the divvying began before the kiddos even got out of the shop.

“Oh, Edgar Allen said to tell you hi!” One little girl called back to him. She was gone out of the door before he could even think of a reply, all of them clamoring onto their bikes, their faces chipmunk-cheeked with their spoils.

Edgar Allen, shit, yeah, that was right. He’d pretty much been the first stop on this questline and Stretch’d been meaning to do something for him. He’d already rethought the magazine idea; what if it turned out that scarecrows couldn’t read, kinda insensitive there. He’d have to think of something, though, owing someone didn’t sit well with him even if that person didn’t qualify for traditionally alive.

In the meantime, the dog, bereft of childish companionship, wandered back behind the counter and flopped down with a huff, sighing deeply.

“yeah, go on and take a break,” Stretch told him, “you were working pretty hard there.” He stretched out a leg to pet the dog carefully with his foot and wasn’t too surprised that it didn’t care one bit about his shoe, only pliantly rolled over to give him better access to the belly region.

Stretch obediently kept petting, hell, he obeyed better than the dog. But his thoughts were still on the upcoming journey to 637 Wood’s End Drive.

~~*~~

Red relieved him in the shop a little later than normal, looking a lot like he’d just hauled ass out of bed. His shirt was the same one as earlier, only with a fresh crop of wrinkles and his eye lights were still bleary with exhaustion.

Almost, Stretch offered to stay later and let Red get a little more sleep, considering it was his fault Red got woken up in the middle of night. But the baleful glare Red sent his way was an unspoken warning that such an offer probably wasn’t gonna go over well. He kept his jaw shut tight and took the paper sandwich bag Red handed over before heading out the door. Time to get this side quest rolling, literally, he hoped.

The few times he’d met Magdalen May he’d figured right from the get-go that she, like Red, was a partaker of the Sheriff’s son’s prize cannabis crop. Not only because of her dreamy demeanor but also whenever she came into the store, she was surrounded by an almost visible cloud of pot stank so strong that Stretch got a contact buzz while she was shopping through the meagre selection of yarn that Red kept. By the time she left, Stretch would have a craving for Cheetos so strong he’d be ready to start gnawing on his fingerbones for a cronch.

Stepping into the thrift shop was a little like hot boxing in a hoarder’s closet but Stretch soldiered on, squinting as his vision adjusted from the bright light of day to a dimness barely above attic-levels. He went past shelves of gewgaws and boxes of dusty records, old clothes hanging from racks that looked like they’d been commandeered from a lot of remaindered furniture. There were tables piled high with ancient radios, cameras, electronics that Stretch didn’t know the name of and surely didn’t work, existing only to be parted out by an amateur scientist or an electrician in search of cheap parts. Antique glass was set high on the shelves, catching dusty light and sending a kaleidoscope of color to scatter over the room, freckling it in greens, reds, and yellows.

The entire store radiated a glorious sort of chaos and if it weren’t for the fact that he already felt a little woozy, he would’ve stayed for a while and poked through some of the wares. Maybe even find a new book for Red buried in the nearby piles, see if he’d be willing branch out into cowboy romance for a change.

He heading to the back of the shop where Miss Maggie was sitting in a rocking chair surrounded by boxes and shelves, knitting with flashing speed despite the foggy miasma hanging in the air. Her long white hair was smoothly braided and pinned up on top of her head, her weathered skin tanned dark and leathery. The weave of bright yellow yarn trailing from her needles was spread across her lap in an incongruous contrast to her dark, billowing skirt and the light sweater she wore against the chill of the air conditioning.

“Hello, Papyrus,” she greeted him with the sort of rough, croaky voice made over the years by a thousand packs of Marlboros. She didn’t look up, her attention completely focused on her knit and purl.

That gave him one hell of a pause. “how did you—” Stretch stopped. Great, he was in the soothsayer chapter and hadn’t even had time to prep. Yeah, okay, he didn’t really have any room in his life for another side quest, maybe let this one go. He didn’t actually want to know where she got her intel, not really, especially not with his head already spinning a little. He stuck his hands in his pockets to hide the way they wanted to curl into fists, rocking back and forth on his heels. “heya. i haven’t gone by papyrus in years, it’s stretch, thanks.”

“A wise choice,” Miss Maggie said. She sounded…different, somehow. He’d talked to her a few times now and strangely, today he couldn’t seem to place her accent. It wasn’t like the other townsfolk, all of them had a certain warm, down-homey charm, and usually so did she. Her words today were crisp, sharp-edged, nothing like the dreamy peace he was familiar with when she came into the store for coffee creamer and vanilla wafers. She glanced up at him over the wire rims of her glasses, her gaze as sharp as her tongue. “Names have power. A wise man keeps his true name to himself.”

“um. sure,” Stretch couldn’t stop himself from giving the door a longing glance. This was starting to seem like a bad idea, Miss Maggie seemed to be having a personality crisis, maybe he should come back after lunch. “that’s some very handy wisdom, but i’m here about a bike?”

She ignored that. “You have issues with names,” Miss Maggie told him. She kept knitting, needles flashing furiously in a rhythmic clickity-clack as steady as a metronome. “don’t you.”

“huh?” Stretch didn’t exactly have any flesh to get goosebumps with, but he felt a chill nonetheless, prickling maddeningly over his bones. His head was whirling, everything around him seemed to blur except the old woman in front of him. His tongue felt strangely thick as he whispered a question he didn’t want to ask, “i don’t…what do you mean?”

“Mmm, yes,” Miss Maggie sighed out, “so many names you’ve had and rejected. Had and left behind when you ran away, far, far away.”

“stop,” Stretch said weakly. His soul was starting to pulse with aching intensity behind his breastbone. The room filled with an electric heaviness like a coming storm, the rich green smell filling the room suddenly nauseating. “please, don’t.”

“Brother, lover, yes, but never father, not even once.”

“shut up,” Stretch said thickly. Or tried to, the words seemed to clot and stick at the back of his throat, refusing to travel over his useless tongue.

“And now you’re taking on new names,” she raised her head, and here in the dim, her eyes seemed like dark pools of pure blackness that reflected nothing of the flickering overhead lights. Her grin seemed unpleasant and wide, showing pale pink gums in an endless maw. “Is it friend you seek or something else, I wonder?”

As she turned towards him, her sleeve caught on the sugar bowl set on the table next to her, sending it tumbling to the floor. The burst of sound as it shattered pushed through his dazed distance like the snap of dry twig broken over a knee. Stretch jerked, blinking hard, and all the nebulous emotion in him surged forward, gathering and coalescing into real anger. He was starting to get sick of this shit, if everyone in town wanted to act like this place was Sleepy Hollow’s second-cousin, that was fine by him. He was happy to play along, but not if they were gonna keep sticking their shovels into his past to see what other skeletons they could dig up.

“look, fuck you,” Stretch snapped out. He turned back to the door, tossing over his shoulder. “never mind, i’ll figure out something else!”

“Wait!” And he didn’t want to wait, he wanted to push on through the door, but his stubborn feet suddenly refused to move. Miss Maggie clumsily thrust aside her knitting, hardly noticing her teacup wobbling, spilling tea and leaves out into her saucer in a wild splash. That funky weird woman vibe abruptly eased and so did some of the stench in the air, flavored instead with lavender tea. She waddled over to him, her long skirt dragging on the floor. Even bent over with age, she was impressively tall, hardly shorter than Stretch was, and he was a mini-skyscraper to most Humans. She looked up at him, her eyes a watery, pale blue, surrounded by a sea of wrinkles, how could he ever have imagined they were anything else?

Miss Maggie reached up to touch his cheekbone with fingers nearly as thin as his own.

“Oh, sweet child,” she said with mournful gentleness, and her voice was the smoky-sweet, grandmotherly one he recalled. “S’all right. Ain’t nothing wrong with setting aside a name you’ve outgrown, nor in taking on a new one.”

All his bright, burning anger collapsed inwardly, a card house with the center support removed, and hurt welled in him instead. He was crying, he realized distantly, tears stinging in his sockets, running down his cheekbones to gather on wetly his chin. He didn’t realize he was going to speak until he did, choking out, “it feels wrong.”

“How you feel and how things are don’t always match,” she agreed. She held out her arms, her gnarled hands open to him and Stretch leaned into them, burying his face in the soft, knitted shawl draped over her shoulder. She smelled like weed and lavender, a strange, exotic mixture. “i’ll get you all wet,” Stretch mumbled, muffled into the cloth.

She petted his skull gently, “It’s all right, child. I’ll dry.”

He held on tightly for a long time and when she finally drew back, she lightly touched his forehead with the tips of two dry fingers.

“You can get to his home through the forest,” she said, and it seemed to Stretch he could almost see it, clear as a picture someplace behind his sight. “Follow the exchange down about a mile, you’ll see a turnoff on the left. Don’t you stray from the path, you hear me, sonny?” Those pale, rheumy eyes searched his face for understanding. “Easy to get lost out there.”

“i won’t.”

“Good.” She let him go and shuffled back to her chair to picked up her knitting again. “Now, you mentioned something about a bike.”

For a moment, Stretch stood there, practically wobbling on his feet. He felt like he’d woken up from an unexpected nap, still floating in between the sleeping and waking worlds. Then he blinked, snapping awake, and looked around almost wildly. Until his gaze snagging on one of the shelves, or more specifically, something sitting on it, and held.

“a bike, i did.” Stretch walked over to the shelf where a bandana was sitting, a bright turkey-red plaid, and picked it up, holding it out for Miss Maggie to see. “how much for this, too?”

By the time he left the shop, he was in a fine mood despite his savings being a little lighter. He was pushing a rattly old bike with a squeaky chain and a horn that let loose with a hoarse ‘awhooga’ when the dusty rubber bulb was squeezed. The bandana was stuffed into his short’s pocket and the first thing he was gonna do was deal with that, then he’d worry about some maintenance. Probably better to find out if his new bike was streetworthy before taking his act on the road.

He used the walk back to the store to draw in a few deep, refreshing breaths of the heat-smoggy air, letting it clear his head.

“miss maggie sure smokes some strong shit,” Stretch muttered to himself. He left the bike leaning against the porch around back and headed over to the main road, taking his normal walking route down towards the corn. There were no kids on the makeshift baseball diamond today, looked like they’d headed off somewhere else to enjoy their penny candy.

The grass was yellowed and dying under his sneakers as he went off the beaten path, heading towards the rustling corn. Was it his imagination, or did those whispers get louder as he approached, even eager? The corn got lonely sometimes, Edgar Allen had said, but it didn’t mean any harm.

Somehow, he didn’t think the skeleton they’d found in the fields back in Doris’s day would agree.

“um, hi?” Stretch tried. There was no one around to see him and he still felt ridiculous, talking to the damn corn. “look, i dunno if you can understand me, but if you do, could you see that edgar allen gets this? i wanted to thank him for helping me out and i thought it’d look good on him.”

Carefully, he laid the bandana over a crux of green leaves and stalk, tugging to make sure it wouldn’t simply blow away. He left it there and turned back to town, hoping that the scarecrow got the message; as much as he wanted to thank the guy, he really didn’t feel like taking a second go in the corn maze to do it. He didn’t look back until he got back to the side of the road and there he paused, frowning. The splash of red should’ve been vivid against the sea of green but there was nothing, not so much as a glimpse.

He craned his neck, searching, but it hadn’t fallen to the ground and the wind wasn’t strong enough to carry it off. Maybe the corn had gotten the message after all? Yeah, he was going with that, and he headed back to take a look at his new bike, hands in his pockets and whistling cheerfully, which was a heck of a trick for someone without lips.

Yeah, he felt pretty good today and why not? He had a place to stay, a job, someone looking after him, and a dog. And now he had a bike. Things were looking up, Stretch decided.

Things were looking up.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #welcome to backwater

61 notes · View notes

snowdice · 4 years

Text

Folds in Paper (Chapter 6: You Try to Cut Her Wires)[Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Janus/Patton, Remus & Roman, eventual Logan/Virgil (maybe more)

Characters:

Main: Janus, Patton, Remus

Appear: Remy, Emile, Virgil, Logan, Roman

Summary: Janus, a disillusioned senior agent working for the Time Preservation Initiative, struggles to find meaning in a world where time travel could change everything about your life’s history in less than a moment. When time distortions start popping up, threatening the timeline and the fabric of reality as he knows it, it becomes a race against the clock to fix the damage before everything unravels. And the problem with time travel… you never how long you have before the clock strikes 12 and your time is up.

With a partner who has more mysteries in his past than Janus had anticipated and an enigmatic free agent time traveler mucking about time always with a clever pun or a time appropriate pet name on his lips, Janus will need to figure out what went wrong with time, and more importantly, how to fix it.

Chapter Summary:

You try to cut her wires but you're way too late.

-from the song “Time Bomb” by Iration

Notes: Time travel AU, mystery, enemies to lovers, alcohol

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted).

AO3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

“Really, Khalid,” Janus said, storming into his boss’s office before even sitting down at his desk that morning. “A yellow?” It had been about a week since the 1920s incident, and his incident report had finally been cleared. Sure, it wasn’t a red or a black and he wasn’t facing any reprimand, but it should have been a green.

She looked up at him, clearly unconcerned. “There was an incident,” she said. “You handled it well, but there was one. Therefore, yellow.”

“It wasn’t a time period incident! It was a rouge time traveler.”

“Janus, you helped me make these rules,” she said impatiently.

“Which is why I know this is bullshit,” he snapped.

She rolled her eyes. “If it was anyone else, you would agree with me. While you didn’t go against protocol and had no time related incidents, the fact of the matter is, you were still distracted by this ‘rouge time traveler,’ didn’t complete your mission, and were arrested.”

“He was good,” Janus said. “You can’t fault me for that. He also could be dangerous and you’re busy handing out yellows instead of working to track him down.”

She raised an eyebrow. “We are working on tracking him down,” she said. “We have done an analysis on the mask and found fibers dating to the 2010s and some DNA. Though it isn’t exactly a high priority.”

“We have no idea who he is or what he’s planning to do. Why is that not a high priority?”

“At the moment?” she asked. “Because we have reports of a time bomb being activated.”

“What?” Janus asked straightening up. “When?”

“New Years Eve going into the year 3,000 in Brazil,” she said. “Which you’d know about if you’d bothered to check your integration port this morning before storming into my office.”

“It’s my mission?” Janus asked.

“The incident investigation is over and your active again despite the dreaded yellow,” she said, clearly making fun of him a bit. “So, yes, and it’s a high priority mission, so it is our mission. I’m leading it.”

“Who all is going?” he asked.

“Other than the two of us, Remus, Lena, and Fred,” she told him. “We leave in three hours, so, you might want to run off to Rhi before Fred gets to her and ties her up for an hour on details.”

Janus nodded and got to his feet. He turned back at the door. “I still don’t deserve the yellow,” he hissed.

She waved him off. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Picani.”

He ground his teeth a bit about the dismissal of his worries, but his resentment was slightly soothed by the fact that she’d assigned him to go on such a high priority mission and with only other senior agents.

He took the advice and grabbed Remus from the office, noting Lena hadn’t been able to wrangle Fred yet as she was still at her desk, and they both headed off to see Rhi.

A few hours later, they were all in decontamination together, decked out in truly god-awful costumes. The turn of the third millennia had been a wild event, and the best way to fit in was to look like you’d grabbed something from every century in recorded human history, dyed it in neon paint, and rolled around in a vat of glitter.

Remus had opted to stick his head in a vat of thick glow in the dark green paint that costuming had offered them. It was so caked on that Janus couldn’t even recognize him on sight, and it wasn’t even going to be slightly disruptive to their covertness. In fact, costuming had frowned when Janus had insisted he not get his hair dyed and instead wore a bowler hat. They had required him to have flowers made out of glitter on it.

There were five people waiting for them when they landed 6 hours before the turn of the millennia. Three were touchdown agents, including Remy, and two were on location tech support. Usually it would be overkill to have that many people there just for support even with five agents in the field, but today the TPI needed to be cautious because they were planning on instituting a time lock.

Time bombs were dangerous things that would ripple through time if not contained. They were nests of anywhere between 10 and 50 bombs that were set off by one core explosion. This core explosion would punch through space-time and spew the multitude of bombs across different places and times. Beyond just causing huge explosions where they landed, they would also pose a danger to any time travelers that accidently traveled through them and they could cause disruptions in the timelines around the source and where each one ended up. Once they went off in their source time, there was very little one could do to stop the damage. Thus, the time lock. The time lock would make sure that even if it did end up going off (killing everyone in its reach), the damage wouldn’t extend outside of the city and, more importantly, the year it was planted.

Janus had only been in two time locks before, and he was one of the most senior agents in the TPI, outranked only by the founder: Lia Khalid. Time locks were designed to keep all time linear in a certain fixed time and geographical area as well as prevent any time travel in and out. Once it was engaged, all forms of time travel would not work for the duration, bar the pin device. Khalid was already switching out her regular timepiece with the slightly bigger one that was designed to support the time lock.

There was a failsafe back at the TPI that could be engaged in an emergency, which was why tech support was here, but other than that, the only thing that could break the time lock was that timepiece, and said timepiece would break the moment the time lock ended, making it impossible to return to the inside of the timelock.

As soon as it was on Khalid’s wrist, she looked up at them all. “Our information says the time bomb was planted in the costume of one of the ‘Millennium Birds’ who are the organizers of the different events,” she said. Janus had seen a photo of the identical costumes in the mission details. They were all robe like garments with giant fans of feathers coming from the neck that coalesced in a peak a foot above their head to hold a fake bird egg. At least they’d be easy to find. “There are 25 of them throughout the city. We need to find each of them. So we don’t double count, you’ll need to subtly,” her eyes touched on Remus, “scan each one you find for the bomb and tag them with a tracker if it’s not on them. You can view the already tagged ones, as well as the rest of us on your timepiece even once the time lock is engaged. When you find the bomb, call it in.”

They all nodded, and Khalid looked over at one of the techies. She nodded at her and then the techie flipped a couple of switches. “Three, two, one,” the techie said. There was a slight shift in the air that most people would disregard, but Janus, as a seasoned time traveler, could feel the change even before his wrist buzzed. He glanced at his timepiece to see it had a big red ‘X’ across its display. He tapped it and was still able to bring up the map of the city with 10 green dots on it all clustered together in their current location.

After that, he tested the scanner on his timepiece that he would use to search for the bomb, just to make sure the time lock hadn’t messed anything up with his equipment. He glanced up to see everyone else was doing the same.

“Keep in contact,” Khalid said before everyone split up. Janus and Remus started by going North while Fredrick and Darlene were to go South. Khalid was a floater who would tag any Birds she saw but was mostly there for backup and orders.

Janus and Remus stepped into the chaos of New Years Eve before the turn of the third millennia. The streets were already swamped with people and it would only be getting worse the later it got.

“Where should we start?” Remus asked.

“Let’s go all the way North to the games area,” Janus said. “We can work our way back here.”

“Okay!” Remus said. “I wonder if they have those fun little genetically modified goldfish as prizes. I’ve always wanted to eat one and see if I end up getting whatever design was on the fish on my body.”

Janus gave him a disgusted look.

“What?! People eat fish all the time!”

Janus shook his head. “We’re not playing the games anyway. We have work to do. Important work.”

“Boo,” Remus replied. Janus chose to ignore him.

A few minutes later, he spotted one of the Millenia Birds letting people into the gaming area.

They walked over towards the entrance. Janus got in range first and moved to subtly scan the Millenia Bird, Remus doing the same the next moment. After a second, Janus’s timepiece buzzed and lit up red, meaning the bomb was within range. “Well, that was easy,” he said. “It was on the first one we found.”

“Uh…” Remus said. “Jan.” When Janus looked, he was holding up his wrist to show his green lit time piece.

“What?” Janus asked. He quickly moved to rescan the Millenia Bird, and his timepiece came up green as well. Which, meant the bomb was not in range, even though the Millenia Bird had not moved. “But…” He and Remus’s eyes met, and they quickly both started turning in a circle to look at the crowd around him. No one looked like they’d just stolen a time bomb off the Millennial Bird, but then Janus’s eyes caught on a man.

He blended in perfectly to his surroundings. He was wearing the disgusting garb of the times, a large light blue piece that bubbled near his hips, and he had most of his skin covered in rainbow neon paints. Yet, something about him, the curl of his hair or the way he moved, drew Janus’s eyes to him. He recognized the man immediately even in a completely different dressing style. Yet, what cinched it was the moment Janus’s eyes met his, and they seemed to sparkle slightly in the afternoon sun. The next moment, the person Janus knew as Pat, turned to disappear into the crowd.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

#sanders sides #janus sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #moceit #time travel #adriana writes #folds in paper #folds in time universe #bomb mentioned #logan sanders #virgil sanders #analogical #roman sanders #creativitwins

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ficsandcatsandficsandcats · 4 years

Note

Hey, I was wondering if I could request a fic where the reader convinces Geralt to go on a quest to help her retrieve a notebook that a dragon stole from her. And along the way, Geralt catches feeling for the reader and can't figure out why he has such a compulsion to protect her. And then it dawns on him that she's half witcher, and maybe that's where maybe some angst kicks in?

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Geralt x ReaderWord Count: 1,925Rating: TTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @magic-multicolored-miracle @writingstudent @mlleecrivaine @coffee-and-stories @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @astouract@your-not-invisible-to-me @kemmastan a/n: This was an interesting premise! I hope I did it justice! Thanks!

Geralt was at a point in his career where he could pick and choose jobs as he wished and yours wasn’t the kind he’d usually pick. Retrieving a notebook from a dragon seemed ridiculous. At first he’d gruffly rebuffed you, telling you to buy a new notebook and getting up to walk away. But when you’d called after him that you’d just go on your own if you had to, a strange feeling overcame him. He’d immediately turned around and accepted the job, barking that you’d leave tomorrow at first light, and turned back around before he could see the relieved smile light up your face. Something about you compelled him to keep you safe. He hadn’t felt that kind of pull since Ciri had entered his life but you were no child and the way he felt as he looked at you was far from paternal. He was a professional, though, and he would escort you there and back and that would be it.

That was his plan, at least. A well laid and ultimately useless one. For all that he tried to wedge distance between the two of you, you found your way in. You were funny and charming and the way the fire illuminated your face made you lovelier than all the stars in the skies above you. More than once he felt the urge to pull you close but he fought against it. Partially out of professionalism but more out of fear. He didn’t know what caused this intense attraction but he didn’t trust it.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said one day, hoping that he may learn something that would help him like you less. You walked alongside of Roach and glanced up at the witcher who loomed large above you.

“Why?” you asked bluntly.

“If we are to travel together we may as well learn more about each other,” he replied.

“Alright,” you said, “You go first.”

“I asked first,” he countered.

“What do you want to know?” you asked, pretend he hadn’t just given the most childish rebuttal imaginable.

“Tell me about your family,” he offered. You were quiet for a long moment and he began to regret the question. He had a soft spot in his heart for people with unfortunate families.

“I don’t know much about them,” you admitted.

“Orphaned?”

“Yes, you?”

“Don’t remember them so yes,” he replied.

“Any family at all then?” you asked, seamlessly taking up the mantle of interrogator. Geralt thought of Ciri and Jaskier and everyone at Kaer Morhen.

“Some,” he answered, “Yourself?”

“Some,” you replied with a little smile playing about your lips as you thought of the people you’d come to know and trust in your life.

“So tell me something,” Geralt said, trying another tactic, “Why a witcher to retrieve a notebook? Do you want me to slay the dragon because I can tell you right now that unless the beast is going around eating people I will leave it as it lives.”

“Of course I don’t want you to kill it,” you answered, tone severe and face contorted into a scowl, “I happen to have a tenderness towards monsters. If it were just a matter of killing it I’d be fine. It is specifically because I don’t wish to hurt it that I asked a professional monster wrangler to aid me.”

Geralt’s face crumpled into a very disgruntled expression. You’d answered perfectly and what’s worse his heart had skipped an already slow beat at your mention of feeling tenderness towards monsters.

“Stupid,” he bit out, “It’s stupid to feel tender towards monsters. Good way to get eaten.”

You stopped walking and he paused Roach’s steps, looking back at you. You gave him a cool, withering expression that cut through the layers of thick leather armor on his body, chilling him to the bone.

“Do not underestimate me, Witcher,” you said, “I know of what I speak when it comes to monsters.”

You began to walk again, striding ahead with your head held high as Geralt grumpily trotted after you, falling into a silence that was far less enjoyable than the one before. This, Geralt thought to himself bitterly, is what comes of small talk.

That evening Geralt scouted the area around the campsite twice, senses heightened with the need to ensure your safety. The anxiety for your wellbeing buzzed in his mind like a particularly persistent gnat. You were oblivious it seemed. You made the fire while he was gone and even fed Roach and, to Geralt’s horror, was brushing her coat when he returned. The horse seemed as enchanted with you as Geralt was and his stomach pitched at the thought of how well you seemed to fit into their little life together. He went to his bedroll without a word and went to sleep while you stayed up a bit longer tending the fire and petting Roach.

Somehow Geralt fell asleep but when he woke it was to a sharp spike of panic running through him. He stood up, already reaching for his sword, and a hand clamped around his mouth. He tore at it but he soon recognized it and stilled as you leaned to whisper in his ear.

“I think we found our dragon.”

A brilliant flash of golden scales, illuminated by the fire which was a pile of glowing embers now, rustled through the trees and you kept your hand on Geralt’s mouth, face pressed by his as you watched carefully to see if the dragon would come towards you or move on unimpeded. Geralt’s mind was torn between focusing on the threat and trying to figure out how you had perceived it before he did and how you were strong enough to keep your hand clamped tight around him. The only person who had ever been able to sneak up on him in the past was a fellow witcher and you were not-

Geralt glanced, your face closer than it had ever been and even in the darkness he began to notice little things. Your eyes, though Y/E/C and not the usual witcher’s yellow hue, glowed slightly even in the dark. Your skin wasn’t pale per se but there was a wan quality to it that some may mistake as sickly, but there was nothing weak about your grasp on him. And then Geralt realize your heart wasn’t beating. He listened carefully, your body pressed close enough that he should have felt its rhythm, but there was nothing for 1… 2…. 3…. Thump. You relaxed your grip and stepped back.

“It’s left for now but we should probably get moving,” you said, moving to stir water into the campfire.

“You’re a witcher,” Geralt said, not a question but a confused revelation. You paused and sighed heavily.

“I’m not,” you said.

“Bullshit,” Geralt replied, “I don’t know how it took me this long but you are one, I know that much.”

“I’m not,” you insisted, turning to face him, “I’m… well I suppose at best I’m half.”

Geralt blinked a few times in confusion, trying to process what you’d said.

“No such thing,” he argued, “Witcher’s are sterile and cannot procreate. And those who fail the trial of grasses die.”

“Yes,” you agreed, “They do. But not all stay dead.”

Geralt didn’t have a response for that, just a relentless stare that you met head on. You knew this was a battle of wills that you would try to win but you also knew there was no walking this back, you may as well tell him.

“Girl witchers are rare,” you said, continuing to round up items around the campfire and keeping your voice low, “But not unheard of. I was taken in much as I’m sure you were, offered up by family shortly after birth or maybe being found, I’ve heard different things from different people. I trained and I was submitted to the trial of the grasses but something went wrong. There was an attack that was unanticipated and I was left for dead. Until a mage found me, compelled by something, they say destiny and who am I to disagree with them though I feel it does a disservice to their work. They say there was just enough life left in me to bring back and so here I am. Not a witcher, but not a human either. Something different. Something that doesn’t quite belong anywhere. So yes, Geralt of Rivia, I know monsters. I am a new breed of one. But I dare to think that like that dragon, I deserve to live. Not all would agree. Not all of your own order would agree. But there it is.”

By the time you were done talking you had packed everything up and even saddled Roach while Geralt watched in stunned silence, listening but hardly believing what you told him. He could tell you were being honest, though.

“That’s why I’ve felt so….” He began and then stopped himself. You turned swiftly and looked at him.

“That’s why you’ve felt what?” you asked.

“I’ve felt a sort of… connection with you,” he said, “I thought maybe I was just… but this is why. You’re… well, you’re almost…”

“I know,” you said with a rueful smile, “What to call me? You understand why I don’t really lead with it.”

“But surely somebody knows,” he argued, moving closer and taking the reins from your hands, “Someone in the council knows. Vesemir at the very least must.”

“Don’t,” you said suddenly, face tense and terrified, “You cannot tell anyone. You’re right, some know of me, and none want me around. At best I’m a curiosity to be investigated and dissected. At worst I’m collateral damage and an unnatural thing to be taken back out of the world. If you tell anyone, you write my death sentence.”

“I am a witcher first and foremost,” Geralt said, “I know my people. I would not put your life at risk-”

“The only way you keep me safe is to stay silent,” you protested, “If you cannot, then at least let me get a head start. I’ll stay out of your life, hell I’ll find a mage to try and clear your memory for you if I have to, but know that you tell someone, I am dead.”

Geralt considered your words. He felt certain that he could, and absolutely should, tell his old mentor that you existed, perhaps even have you join them since you clearly possessed some of their abilities. But your words also rang true and the idea of putting you at risk felt as possible as rending his own limbs off. You stared at him in breathless anticipation of what he would say and when he finally looked up at you, you knew he had his answer.

“Go.”

You ran into the night, not looking back or giving him half a chance to think twice about his decision. Geralt watched you go as a deep sense of grief washed over him. If destiny had spared your life it felt that destiny must had brought your lives together for some reason. Though his heart ached as he climbed atop Roach’s back and stared at the spot you’d long since disappeared from view in, he felt a strange sense of certainty as well.

He would see you again and next time, whatever the cost, even if he had to eliminate every threat with his bare hands, he would ensure your safety and if he was lucky he may even get to keep you close.

#miyakokurono #Geralt x Reader #geralt imagines #geralt drabble #geralt angst #reader request

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soranihimawari · 4 years

Text

who yuu loves

tagging: @smolbludandelions @m0nstergeneration20xx and anyone who loves the 5 W’s series event

|masterlist| >>

of all things to walk into, you were not expecting the bird you raised since it had long since been abandoned by it’s flock, to fly into the noisy gymnasium of your high school. classes had long since ended, but the boys volleyball club had an important match coming up, so you remembered takeda-sensei mentioning something about not having homework from his class for that day.

it wasn’t until you had arrived home and decompress that you found yourself climbing the fire escape of your parents’ apartment building to pay a visit to the birds you took care of. one of the oldest birds you took care of had been in your care since you turned twelve; he was a young crow hatchling whom you affectionally called ‘little brother.’ your mother had been terrified when you came home from middle school with a baby bird nuzzled against your neck, your father, on the other hand (who by trade was a vetenarian), shook his head.

“another one?” he asked once he noticed his wife staring daggers and mouthing something along the lines of ‘do something, she’s your kid too.’

“mmhm! i’m going to call him onii-chan since i don’t have a real one yet,” you said. the bird squawked in approval. you left your parents in the dining room after you took your leave and started to head toward the aviary up on the roof your building.

you said your greeting salutations for the flock while opening the cage of the aviary your father built during the summer you turned thirteen. your mother had given in through a series of compromise once she realized your love for your ‘onii-chan’ was the first of five crow siblings you’d surround yourself with in the days of your childhood.

since then, you were known amongst the neighborhood to be the girl with a murder flock. there were nasty rumors floating about you as you grew up and every school year, you were thankful you had two members of a certain sports club remained in your homeroom class after you began your first year at karasuno high school. nishinoya yuu and tanaka ryuunoske had similar personalities to a few of your feathery siblings once you got to know them in your first year attending karasuno. you also met the rest of the team formally during one of the practice matches prior to the start of your second year.

flash forward to this afternoon, you found yourself running back to campus after you explained to your mother beloved ‘onii-chan’ flew out of the cage probably because although you thought you heard the cage door shut, the lock must have finally fallen off. you had trained that bird through a series of conditioning encouragement treats the flight path to karasuno high. luckily, you were able to send a rushed text message to your two friends. with a blow of a whistle echoing throughout the walls of the gym, all talking ceased once you heard one of your senpai’s say, “there’s a bird in here.”

tanaka elbowed his best friend in the rib rather hard when the bird let out a raw squak.

“oi, noya, doesn’t that bird look like...?”

“shit, it is!” noya exclaimed excited upon glancing at the direction the bird call came from. after seeing your onii-chan with his best bud over the time he was suspended, noya knew you were close by. it was during this time too that noya had been called out for being a simp for two women and two women only: the goddess manager (kiyoko-senpai) and the queen of the northern sky (your nickname on his phone was always followed by a bird emoji & a cloud). tanaka, along with the rest of the second years who finally returned back to the folds of the team, had a boys night only sleepover called out noya for having a huge crush on you. noya couldn’t ever hide the ways his eyes lit up whenever you were within his line of sight, like right now when he saw your onii-chan flew past the highest point of his spiky hair.

“you two know this bird in particular?” sawamura-san, the captain of the team that year, asked them after the bird took its leave and settled on the railings of the second floor of the gym.

“not a bird captain-senpai,” you said in between catching your breath. the crow let out a triumphant caw. you tilt your head to the side to raise your forearm above your head. the bird flew toward your arm and perched itself there. you moved the bird to your shoulder with a soft smile.

“sorry if my onii-chan interrupted your practice guys,” you said, petting the bird under its beak. when your breathing finally returned to it’s natural rhythm, you had a cute grin strewn over your features when you placed your hands in your jacket pockets. “guess we’ll be going then. see you in class tomorrow noya. bye tanaka!”

there was another commotion altogether once you were off campus grounds.

“what a woman,” noya thought he said that to himself, unaware of his inability to control his vocal volume. he nearly combust on the spot because you named him first in your farewell. tanaka on the other hand had thought his spirit escape his body via his mouth when he saw you spoke so informally at their captain.

other members of the team made mocking kissing noises to tease their libero and their outside hitter.

“alright alright. enough of a break, let’s get back to work,” daichi instructed with loud clap.

“daichi, i don’t think we can,” his vice-captain states, nodding his head to the side of the court where noya.exe had stopped working.

the first and second years surrounded their teammates in a semi-circle.

“say noya,” ennoshita begins while folding his arms over his chest. there is a mischievous glint in his eyes. suddenly the other second years chuckle recalling the sleepover rankings of beauties in their year. “y/n-san is really pretty now that we’ve seen her in those yoga pants and tangerine jumper...”

that compliment broke noya’s brain even further. he was so close to coming back to reality and then with what ennoshita mentioned, the karasuno libero’s jaw went slack.

“noya-senpai’s face is really red right now!” hinata yelled.

“where’s the first aid kit? tanaka stopped breathing too!” yamaguchi exclaimed while their new manager in training, yachi, handed him the small box.

one thing was certain, nishinoya was not going to give up pursuing you because after all, you were the one who he loves most.

when you climbed back up on the fire escape to reach the roof that evening, you replayed the events of the shenanigans your onii-chan pulled the an hour ago. you thought nothing of it as you prepared to close the aviary for the night after to scatter the evening seed blend for their dinner. your onii-chan fluttered about to his side of the cage, his ebony eyes sassing you about seeing your crush nearly passing out from what you opted to wear sans hoodie in that brisk spring evening rushing out the door when you realize that he broke out.

“don’t look at me like that chibi-chan,” you say in a chastising tone.

the trouble maker sqwaked a resounding “uh-huh.”

“it was worth seeing noya’s adorable face though, haha,” you glance at the bird again. “besides, you like him too so don’t start. g’night boys.”

after you climbed back down from the fire escape and back into your kitchen window, you bid your parents good night explaining to parents you needed to read the next few chapters for your classic literature class taking your curry bowl into your room.

the following morning, your alarm rung at six in the morning. you decided to scatter the bird food for your feather-clad brothers in arms. when your brain decided to remember the look noya and tanaka gave you when your adopted crow-brother perched on your arm, you chuckle to yourself, wrapping your wool scarf around your neck (your hair was slicked back by a headband) .

“today’s white day boys,” you whisper watching your breath hover in the frosty air. “who am i kidding? it’s not like either noya or tanaka wants to risk ruining our dynamic.”

as soon as you said that, you shook your head to clear the jumbling daydream of your ever slightly growing affections for the two of them.

“wish me luck & try not to escape this time, mmk?”

—later that morning—

when you arrived at karasuno’s campus grounds, you saw that someone left something in your personal locker. there was a post-it note with noya’s handwriting on it; his handwriting was a bit rushed judging by the smear on the date in the corner.

ʍąɾçհ 𝟙५,

հҽɾҽ, վօմ ƒօɾցօէ էհìʂ ահҽղ վօմ Ӏҽƒէ էհҽ ցվʍ Ӏąʂէ ղìցհէ Ӏօѵҽ.

-վօմɾ ցմąɾժìąղ ժҽìէվ

“hah,” you coo. “only you.”

after you read the note, a blush formed under the corners of your eye. using your dominiant hand, you reached back into the locker and trace a finger over the ivory kanji stitching on the team jacket. the faint scent of the gentle rain shower fabric softener reached your nose, you hugged the gift.

when the first period bell rang, you shimmy out of your school sweater literally buzzing with excitement and put on noya’s team jacket. you pushed up the sleeves before you take your leave wandering into your classroom to view an ecstatic libero practically fainting on the spot while his best friend (and by default yours too) giving the buddhistivva face of prayer.

you stopped by noya’s desk thanking him for the jacket by planting a fleeting kiss on his cheek prior to your home room teacher coming in and you took the utmost pleasure in watching noya physically short circuit during roll call.

___________________________________________________________

noya’s letter in default font:

march 14,

here, you forgot this when you left the gym last night, love.

-your guardian deity

____________________________________________________________

tagging: @smolbludandelions & @m0nstergeneration20xx others looking for nishinoya fluff.

inspiration collage from various Pinterest arts & all content belongs to their original creators:

#noya x reader #nishinoya yuu x y/n #5W's entry #who yuu loves #fluffy libero crow x reader #1st short of the event #haikyu!! fiction #birthday boy noya #coincidentally posting it today

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oureuphoria · 4 years

Text

Worst of You - JJK 03

You meet him under horrible circumstances but that doesn’t stop you from developing a very abnormal and completely unsolicited crush on your local hot police officer™. Too bad you have a bitch of a best friend, anxiety and an inability to learn from your mistakes which cripples your chances to be with the man of your literal dreams. Oh, and he has a lifetime’s worth of emotional baggage at 23.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” “Cool, I’ll let everyone know that you’re moving in then.”

Genre: fluff, angst, comedy

Pairing: officer!jungkook X collegestudent!reader

Word count: 2,266

Note: If there’s an Alex in your life, you gotta throw them away.

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 |

The decision to go to that party was a horrible choice and you’d commend yourself for your ability to constantly make horrible choices if you could. There you were - your first ever frat party. You were seated on a stool in the kitchen bouncing what you assumed to be a jello shot on a plate with a plastic fork. No one really noticed you and if they did, they were either too drunk or too horny to care about your existence. You thought this party would have been a chance to spread your hypothetical wings and become the social butterfly you so desperately wished to become but that was no way to meet people, unless you wanted to bone of course.

You decided to search for Alex, she couldn’t have gone far it was a frat house not the labyrinth. You searched both stories and peered almost every room (you avoided the ones with the doors closed, you were an amateur not an idiot) but to no avail. However, you did find Jimin, Alex’s annoying ex. “Hello!” You greeted him with the notion that he knew the whereabouts of your best friend. “Hey…uhhhh Jane?” “Y/N.” You deadpanned with a frown because you’d known Jimin since middle school and he still couldn’t remember your name. “Oh, yes Y/N, what’s up kiddo?” You rolled your eyes with annoyance at the pet name you grew to resent, besides, you were the same age.

“I’m just looking for Alex, do you know where she went?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he raked his memory but from the slur of his voice you would’ve been lucky if he remembered his own hair colour. “Yeah! She’s in the living room through the double doors playing truth or dare, I think.” You squeezed a ‘thank you’ out before rushing to the living room which was fortunately away from Jimin.

You slipped in through the heavy door quietly, not trying to get unwanted attention. There was a small hallway before the open living room area which was where you waited while you mapped out what you were going to say. However, a particular question that was shot Alex’s way spiked your interest.

“Do you even like Y/N?” Yes, of course, she had to. “No, not really, but she’s like, my childhood friend, you know and I kind of pity her. I’m her only friend so I stick around.” She laughed a bit but you could barely hear over the sound of your shattering heart. “You’re so charitable Alex, always so kind.” A girl you don’t recognise comments sarcastically and the makeshift circle starts laughing before quickly moving on. You weren’t a necessarily interesting subject. She wasn’t drunk enough for you to ignore it but you still tried to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth.

You walked home and didn’t even bat an eye to the circumstance - you were too sad to be paranoid and it could’ve been your downfall. However, you made it home safe and sound though you couldn’t say the same about the aching organ encased in your rib cage. You were angry for a bit but it passed, the sadness lingered though and the betrayal rang loudly in your head. You knew she had no idea you’d heard, you knew you wouldn’t have the courage to ever bring it up.

You woke up with a raging headache courtesy of the sob-fest you not-so-gracefully participated in the previous night. Not to mention the fact that you had a total of 3 hours of sleep and no time to grab coffee. You couldn’t possibly be late, you had 4 hellish kids to tutor. You grabbed the giant binder of worksheets and headed out. You looked horrible and if it wasn’t for your sunglasses you might’ve been a public risk.

You almost groaned in joy when the time had finally passed but you couldn’t really go back to sleep. You needed to shower and look somewhat presentable for a police officer who had absolutely no interest in you. Your irrational need to get ready was fuelled by your desire to stop thinking about Alex and the godforsaken party that you should have never gone to.

It took you far longer than estimated to choose what to wear which is why you were speed-walking down the street nervously. You weren’t late but you would’ve been if you hadn’t rushed there like a maniac. Thankfully you had gotten to the cafe with 2 minutes to spare. You sat down quickly, purchasing a bottle of water and chugging its contents like you’d run 20km of course your thirst leaves no room for you to notice the officer take the seat opposite yours.

“So you wanted information about your case?” You jumped at the sudden question - just then aware of his existence. You spilt a splash water on to your shirt and cursed in annoyance at small stain. You looked up to see him visibly hold back a laugh with an expression that would’ve been comical if not for your raging anger. “Just tell me about the case.” You spat with a grim expression and he let out a small chuckle at your tone. “The student who attacked you was under the influence. He’s out on bail but his trials in 2 weeks. He had no foreseeable motive and has a history of violent acts. From what I know, he was just acting on impulse. He had no idea who you or the other victim were.”

There was a sense of relief that followed his words and you finally understood why William was so worried. There was a small part of you that wondered if you had done anything to the attacker or if he had some kind of motive for what he did. It was uncannily relieving to hear that he didn’t but you knew William would benefit more. “Thank you so so so much!” You tried to give him a hug but backed out mid-way and opted for a high five instead to which he hesitantly complied.

“So, why were you chugging water?” He asked while observing your appearance which had you retracting into yourself like a hermit crab. “I ran, I was worried I’d be late.” “Smart and punctual, the teachers must love you miss L/N.” You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic comment and brushed over the backhanded compliment. He probably saw your school files and noticed your 3.99999 GPA. “If you’re implying that I am a teachers pet than I have a rude awakening for you. Last week, I skipped my lecture.” “You know those aren’t compulsory right?” You gulped at his comment but you refused to let him win. “Well would a teachers pet skip a lecture, Mr Jeon?” “That’s officer to you, princess.” You literally felt the heat rush to your face and you began to blush embarrassingly fast. It didn’t help that he was now leaning over to stare at you with a gaze so intense the tension was almost tangible.

“So, how was work?” You asked quickly with the intention of relieving the tension. “It was great. I responded to a total of two calls, a Pomeranian without a leash and an illegally parked car.” You snorted at his sarcasm but you held back a laugh. “How was your Saturday?” “I saved four people from unemployment.” He furrowed his eyebrows at your vague comment and you sighed before speaking again. “I tutored four juniors.” He laughed loudly and you glared at this obnoxiousness. “It’s not that funny. Tutoring is an incredible experience.” You mentioned quite monotonously with a scowl creeping onto your face. “Who are you trying to convince, love? Me or yourself?”

“Where are your friends?” You held back a laugh at his use of the plural term. “You tell me.” You joked with a smile but Jungkook could tell it was forced. You were an open book. “What happened? Did your best friend sleep with your boyfriend or something?” You giggled a bit, but your heart still felt heavy. “No, she just trash talked me with her nicer, way-cooler friends.” There was a long pause that led to an awkward silence that you rushed to get rid of. “It doesn’t matter though, she’s right. I mean look at you, you’re literally pitying me right now.”

“I am not pitying you!” “Yes you are.” “I’m not!” “Shouldn’t you be somewhere solving crimes, fighting for justice or something?” He glared at you pointedly from his gorgeously slanted eyes and the glare, albeit playful, made you incredibly nervous. “No, I prefer to walk around the city and slap parking tickets onto cars. If you must know, I’m off duty, after today I have the rest of weekend off.” You smiled at his excitement but it was short-lived. “It’s Saturday, you literally only have Sunday off!” His smile didn’t falter though and admired his optimism. “You take what you can get when you’re the youngest officer on the force.” You stare at him with confusion that granted an offensive stare. “How old are you?” He looked at you, taken aback to say the least. “I’m only 22. Why do I look older?” Your jaw dropped for a bit before you clasped your mouth shut with the fear of seeming rude. “Only by a little, sir.”

“Just call me Jungkook.” “Hey! That’s super close to Jungle Book. I loved that movie.” He laughed mockingly and you feigned offence but whatever comedic moment you were happening was interrupted by Jungkook’s buzzing phone.

“I’m gonna head home, my team wants to go clubbing and I am the life of the party.” “I’m sure you are old man.” “You know what, why don’t you join me and see for yourself.” You stopped yourself from taking the invitation too seriously, you were unknowingly getting your hopes up far earlier than expected. “I’m turning 20 in November so, I can’t. Unless you want bring me a fake ID.” You smiled as you joked in what you thought was playful banter but he clearly took your claim too seriously. “You don’t actually have one, right?” You snorted in astonishment before laughing a little but his face remained stoic.

“No, I don’t. Tonight I’ll be finding worksheets for high schoolers!” “You have no better way to spend your Saturday night?” It was sad because you literally didn’t, it wasn’t like you had a best friend to spend time with. “You’re right, I’m going to go party and get drunk. Thanks for the insight officer.” You quickly packed up as Jungkook was sputtering over his words in fear. “Wait I’m kidding, finding worksheets is fun!” You would have laughed at how cute he was if it didn’t make your heart sting a little. He was way out of your league.

“I’m going home.” You smiled as you watched the relief wash onto his face. “Do you want a ride?” Of course you did but the possibility of aching feet seemed more pleasant than that of an aching heart. “I think I’ll just walk, thank you though.” You’d known Jungkook for a collective amount of possible 3 seconds and yet you could tell he wasn’t the kind to back-down easily. “Pass me your phone.” You gave him a skeptical look as you handed the phone over hesitantly. “Unlock it, Y/N.” “No, what if you steal my memes?” He batted his eyelashes (which you had just realised were very pretty) in utter annoyance at your remarks.

You unlocked the phone with a huff and watched he dialled in his number. “Call me if there’s every an emergency.” “Shouldn’t I just call 911?” “Babe, I am 911.” You rolled your eyes at the corny line but thanked him nonetheless and then you set out an endeavour to your dorm where you would definitely not obsess over the very random nickname that made your cheeks flush impossibly fast.

#jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts #bts fic

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i-see-thevision · 5 years

Text

When Sparks Fly (M)

Part of ‘Heaven or Hell’ my Stray Kids Demon/Angel!au Series

Name: Bang Chan

Status: Demon

Special Abilities: Electrokinesis; Teleportation

Summary: In which you’re just a girl who finds solace in sitting on her terrace. And Chan is just a demon who’s become infatuated with how your legs swing.

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content; Unprotected Sex (Wrap it before you tap it kids!); Virgin!Reader; A tiny bit of violence; Technical stalking??; Chan being himself lmao

• • •

The world is a funny place.

At least that’s what you thought.

Being a newly turned 21 year old, the world expected you to be out drinking and partying every night. But here you sat, on the railing of the terrace of your apartment.

You had just barely moved in, and you have already spent more time out on the terrace than in your own home. But the beauty of fresh air couldn’t be compared to anything, not even the excitement of a new apartment. Which again, most would disagree with.

You sat watching the people below. Watching their interactions, their basic movements. You were high up enough that no one would bother looking up to see you but you could still see them clearly.

People nowadays were just so odd. Everyone was so self-indulgent and conceded, even if it was completely unintentional. You never really thought much of the saying “stop and smell the roses,” until you moved out on your own.

But it’s true. Getting lost in the big picture often prevents people from cherishing the small moments that make it all worthwhile. It’s appreciating those little things, those small moments, that make you a little different from most people.

Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone buzzing in your back pocket.

You pulled it out to see who it was. You rolled your eyes when you read your boss’s name. Not that you didn't like your boss, you did. She was very reasonable and quite sweet. But a call from her usually meant that someone called out last minute and you were going to have to fill in for them. And you were very much enjoying your quiet time out on the terrace. But despite your irritation, you slid your thumb across the screen.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Kwon.” Your voice sounding as cheery as ever.

“Good afternoon, Y/n! I hope you're liking your new apartment! I do have a favor to ask of you, Tess has called out sick and I need someone to cover her evening shift. Would you be able to come at six?”

“Sure thing, Ms. Kwon. I’ll cover for her.” You forcibly smiled even though she couldn't see you, listening to her words of thanks before hanging up.

As soon as the call ended you looked at the time. It was half past three.

With a heavy sigh, you stood up to go back inside. A shower was in order before work and you would need time to dry your hair.

By the time 5:30 rolled around, you were were on the bus and headed to the movie theater in which you worked.

• • •

Earth was a funny place.

At least that’s what Chan thought.

Chan was a demon, spending his days roaming around Earth because the whole ‘murdering humans for fun’ stereotype wasn't really his thing.

He was actually quite relaxed for a demon. Really only interacting with humans if he had to. He lived in an abandoned building just outside of Seoul, because generally, he wanted to stay away from humans.

Now from the outside, his place looked uninhabited and uninviting. Which was entirely his intention. But on the inside, he prided himself on making his place look like the inside of an Elle Decor magazine. It was quite modern but also had a retro flair to it. And despite him never having any guests, Chan still wanted his place to be impressive, even if it was just for him.

Chan’s desire to be isolated from humans but still near the closest big city was a bit contradictory, even to him. But the only reason he liked being so close to Seoul was his fascination for the city aesthetic.

He loved the city for its buildings, for its lights, for its bustling nature. He loved watching humans roam around the busy streets from the tops of buildings, wondering how one individual could live their life so entirely different from the next.

It puzzled him, how the strings of human lives could be so intertwined but still harbor the possibility of two never meeting.

The sound of thunder booming in the distance brought Chan out of his deep contemplation.

His gaze shifted upwards, holding his hand out to feel the oncoming rain drops. He pushed himself onto his feet, ready to make his escape from the down pour he could feel coming.

Not that he minded the rain, thunder storms were probably his favorite thing in the world, being as he could create and manipulate lighting. He was quite fond of the bright flashes that came like a rip in the inky night sky, as if behind the dark canvas was a brilliant light just waiting to flood through any crack no matter how small.

He found cover from the rain under the umbrella of a nearby table, right outside one of his favorite restaurants. He sat down in one of the chairs, content washing over him as he listened to the sound of the rain and thunder crackling above him.

He peeked his head out from underneath the umbrella from time to time, tensing his body and watching the lightning stay in the sky just a little longer than normal. He then let the energy from the storm fuel him, cupping his hands in front of him and watching little sparks form between them. A content sigh left his lips.

It was probably time to head home.

• • •

By the time your shift ended, you were exhausted. Completely wiped and ready to collapse onto your bed.

You checked the time on your phone as you waited quietly for the bus to arrive at the bus stop. It was twenty after midnight, and completely down pouring. You felt a chill flow through your body at the lowering temperature along with the creepy vibe of the city at night.

You watched as the bus pulled up, making a run for it as you did not have an umbrella with you.

No one else got on with you, probably due to the time of night, and there was just one other person already on the bus. So you sat right up front, knowing the drive to your apartment wouldn't be too long.

You quietly hummed to yourself as you watched the lights of signs and people walking the sidewalk pass by at an accelerated pace. Before you could even finish the song you were humming, which albeit was probably prolonged due to lack of concentration, you were getting off the bus at the bus stop closest to your house.

You thanked the bus driver as you stepped onto the sidewalk, making sure to wave at him before he drove off. You would consider yourself to be more polite than most but that’s simply because you believe that you should make up in areas others lacked.

You had no other choice but the let the rain drench you, only adding to the chill you already felt flowing through you.

The only thing on your mind on your walk to your apartment was your terrace. Thankfully you had an awning over yours, so you could be free to sit out there whether it be rain or shine. The thought of listening to the rain with a book and a mug of hot tea in hand, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, the city lights in full view, hearing the thunder boom and watching the lighting flash across the night sky, was all you could think of. A calmness washed over you at the thought. Keeping you collected even while walking past the creepy dark alleyways you had to pass on your way home.

Despite the peaceful feeling, you noticed yourself letting out a breath of relief when you enter your apartment and lock the door behind you.

“Finally, some me time.” You sighed out loud, putting your bag on the ground next to the couch and walking into your kitchen. Immediately, you filled the kettle and put it on the stove to boil. You opened your cabinet of many teas and decided on chamomile, feeling like getting a good nights sleep tonight.

While waiting for the kettle to boil, you took a quick shower and changed into something more comfy and, quite frankly, less popcorn smelling.

You settled on a pair of leggings, a sweatshirt, and some thick fuzzy socks before you heard the kettle make its incessant whistling.

After turning the stove off, pouring the now boiling water in a mug and placing the tea bag in, you walked over to the sliding glass doors that stood between you and your terrace tea time.

Quickly grabbing a blanket from the couch, you slid open the door and stepped outside. The cool air immediately engulfed you, but you found the chill quite refreshing.

You didn't have any furniture out here yet, but you were planning on getting a loveseat or some recliners or something. For now though, you were content with simply sitting on the concrete with a blanket wrapped around you.

You took several sips of your tea, overlooking the city. Silently wondering if anyone else was up this late as well.

• • •

Chan watched his feet scuffle along the sidewalk, the rain completely soaking him from head to toe. But he intentionally did this, enjoying the feeling of walking home, despite him not having to.

A quiet bark caught Chan’s attention. Turning his head to the right, he noticed a small dog wagging its tail playfully at him. There was no one around with the little pup, he deduced. Maybe it’s a stray.

“Hey little guy, where’s your owner?” He smiles softly at the cute little dog, bending down to pet him. Without any fear, the very wet dog ran up to Chan, licking the hand he tried to pet him with. Chan laughed, noticing the dog had a collar.

“So you do have an owner?” Chan says while reading the address on the dog’s collar tag. “We better get you home then, huh?”

Chan was familiar with that street name, at least he was pretty sure it was the next street over. So he bent down to pick up the dog in his arms, holding him close to his chest.

“Alright bud, hold on tight.” Chan smirked before teleporting to where he thought he remembered seeing that street’s sign.

To his delight, he was correct. And the dog didn't seem too freaked out either, which was a plus. A lot of times with teleportation, it can feel odd if you’re not used to it. And especially with animals it’s tough, but this little guy seemed to be perfectly fine with it.

With his attention back on the world, he noticed a young man yelling out for his dog. Catching on rather quickly, Chan put the dog on the ground and watched as its ears perked up and it ran toward its owner. A smile etched its way onto his face as he watched the two reunite in the rain.

Chan turned to walk back to where he came from but stopped when he heard a soft, pretty voice humming from above him.

He shifted his gaze further up the apartment building, shielding his eyes from the rain with his hand, to see a girl. A blanket delicately hanging from her shoulders, a mug in hand, and her eyes glued to the city lights.

But specifically, he watched how her cute little legs were slid through the horizontal beams of the terrace she sat on, swinging softly.

It was long past midnight, and not at all warm outside. He wondered what exactly she was doing out in the rain this late at night.

She was pretty high up, and for whatever reason, Chan found himself teleporting to the terrace above hers to try and get a better look at the girl he suddenly became so fascinated with.

• • •

You were humming absentmindedly, kicking your feet and feeling the cold air surround them. The beautiful city lights had captured your attention the moment you sat down.

But soon enough your attention was drawn to the barking of a dog below you.

You looked down to see a guy around your age with shaggy blonde hair place a small dog on the ground, watching as it ran towards its owner whom you recognized, he lived a couple floors below you.

Your lips formed into a smile as the dog licked his owners already wet face, happy to be home. But then you looked at the guy who seemed to be responsible for reuniting the two. He was looking fondly at the two reuniting as well, just standing underneath the raindrops, a soft smile on his lips. You wondered why he didn't take credit for bringing the little guy back home, instead keeping his distance and turning to leave.

You then wondered what time it was, pulling your phone out of your sweatshirt pocket and checking the time.

1:14 AM

“Wow, I’ve been out here for quite a while now.” You then chuckled, “Guess I’m not the only one up so late.” Your gaze drifted back down to where the shaggy blonde stood, only to find him gone.

You looked around to find him maybe heading off in another direction. You only looked at your phone for all of 3 seconds, he couldn’t have gotten that far.

But no luck. He just... vanished.

An exaggerated sigh left your lips, irritated by the guy you suddenly found interesting and his sudden disappearance.

But nevertheless, you focused your gaze once more on the city lights. Smiling at the serenity you felt flow through you at just the sight of them.

“Absolutely breathtaking.” You sighed, completely content.

• • •

“Absolutely breathtaking.” Chan heard you sigh, feeling like you took the words right out of his mouth. However, you were referring to the city lights and well... he was referring to you.

The way the moon lit up your beautiful profile, your hair softly blowing in the stormy breeze. The way your soft voice would hum from time to time. The way your legs swung back and forth absentmindedly. You were mesmerizing.

Something emanated from you. A certain vibe, a certain aura.

It was calming, it was peaceful. And Chan felt like he just wanted to be closer to it, closer to you.

This was odd for Chan, seeing as he usually stayed away from humans. Not only that, but he felt that this sudden attraction towards you developed rather fast.

So he thought he should keep his distance from you, try to figure out if this was maybe just him feeling lonely and wanting some human interaction for whatever reason.

Infatuation doesn’t usually last very long, anyways.

• • •

“Sure, I can pick up Johnny’s shift tomorrow too.”

You said the words with a smile but felt agitation bubble inside you as you heard yourself say them.

“You are a Saint! I have to get going, you don’t mind closing up for me do you?” Your manager said as she picked up her coat and bag, clearly that was a rhetorical question.

You just smiled and nodded, “Of course not.”

You watched as she left, leaving you in the movie theater by yourself. You looked at the clock hanging on the wall beside you, sighing loudly at the fact that it was nearly midnight. These night shifts were doing a number on your sleep schedule.

You finished cleaning up the counter before grabbing your jacket and slinging it onto your arms, along with your bag.

After locking up, you began your trek to the bus stop. Only to decide halfway there that it was a nice night and you actually wanted to walk home. The air was a comfortable temperature tonight, not warm but not too cold.

It wouldn't take you that long to walk all the way home, no longer than thirty minutes.

You liked that the city lights didn't pass by you in a blur when you decided to walk home, instead giving you time to admire them more. You chuckled at all the open signs that were turned off, reminding you how late it was.

Though your chuckled died off as you noticed a familiar figure sitting on a bench not too far away from where you were walking. The same person that rescued your neighbor’s dog that one stormy night not too long ago. Since then you’ve seen him all around the city, more frequently on your walks home from work, only catching fleeting glimpses of him because he’d somehow be gone in the blink of an eye.

And this time was no different.

The first few times you saw him, you thought he might be stalking you. Which horrified your because even though you saw him briefly, you could tell he was attractive and you didn't want that whole Stockholm syndrome thing to happen if he by chance kidnapped you. I mean, you literally give an obnoxious tip if the pizza delivery guy is cute.

But as time went on, you noticed that he would never approach you. You would just see him standing off nearby, or sitting at an outside table or bench. He didn't stare at you or anything, didn't make you uncomfortable in any way, you just felt like it couldn't be a coincidence that you were seeing him everywhere.

You got to a point where you began thinking that maybe, just maybe, this was all in your head. That your imagination had conjured him up and he wasn't actually real. Because how could a human being consistently disappear from sight in a matter of seconds? It was virtually impossible. So you reckoned that, for reasons you’re not quite sure of, your brain made him up.

You thought about this as you walked past him, waiting all of five seconds before turning around and only finding an empty bench.

“Dammit.” You muttered under your breath, wanting this weird mystery to end. You just wanted to know if he was real or not. Which, albeit, is an odd thing to just casually want to know. But you were an odd person and it wouldn't surprise you if your mind had made up an attractive guy around your age who appeared on your walks alone from work. Considering his presence began to comfort you, the times you didn't see him made you feel more exposed and vulnerable to the nightly possibilities.

Sometimes you imagined him being a guardian angel that was sent to look over you. If only you could see the irony in that thought.

• • •

Chan knew he was being a bit of a creep. He knew that following you home after work, despite the reason being to make sure you get home safely, was pretty much stalking. But he couldn't help it.

He also knew that letting you see him briefly before teleporting out of your line of sight was probably messing with your head a little. But he didn't want you to have the chance to approach him, because that would only end with you accusing him of being a stalker. But again, he couldn't help it.

Ever since that night he saw you on your terrace, he couldn't get you out of his head. He came to the conclusion that it wasn't just infatuation, he genuinely cared for you and your well being. But, he knew that you couldn't feel the same because you literally hadn't even met him. And sure, he hadn't formally met you either, but he knew you.

He watched you at work, on your walks around the city. He knew your voice from your conversations with other people. He knew you liked reading and tea and thunderstorms, just like him. He knew you constantly took nightshifts at the theater because your colleagues would always call out last minute. He knew you were free to do whatever you wanted on Tuesdays, not even picking up your supervisor’s calls on those days. But most importantly, he knew how much you loved your terrace. And he’s watched it develop now over time, it accumulating a little couch, some bean bag chairs, even fairy lights now lined the awning.

And yes, he was aware that all of this was super weird and if you ever actually formally met him, you would probably scream and call the cops. But, that didn't stop Chan from falling completely head over heels with you.

Even though he knew you would never love him.

• • •

Second to sitting on your terrace, you’d have to say you loved your days off. Which usually consisted of sitting on your terrace but still, you considered them separate entities.

Specifically, Tuesdays were your favorite because your manager was aware you would not be receiving any calls from her to come fill in. Tuesdays were your day to recuperate from Mondays and help you get through the rest of the week.

Today was your beloved Tuesday and you went on a bit of a shopping spree. After working consecutive double shifts the last two weeks, you had some extra money after paying bills and buying your necessities. So naturally, you decided to treat yourself.

You didn't go crazy, only getting a few things. Some cute new outfits and a nice dinner to bring home because you were a bit of a lone wolf and definitely wasn't going to sit at a restaurant by yourself like a loser.

With your bags in hand, you opted for the bus since you didn't want to have to lug everything all the way home on foot.

“Huh, someones treating herself today.” The bus driver chuckled as you got on, noticing all your bags. You’ve come to know your usual bus driver quite well, as he’s come to know you.

“All those late night double shifts gotta count for something right?” You chuckled along with him, sitting down in the front seat to continue light conversation with him.

The drive ended quickly and soon enough you were saying goodbye and getting of the bus, beginning your trek to your apartment building.

It was nearing dusk already, and you didn't want your food getting cold so you walked faster than usual.

But just as your apartment building came into view, a large hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you into one of the dark alleyways you passed everyday without a second thought.

You dropped your bags and were thrown against the alley’s exterior wall. A sound of surprise and fear leaving the back of your throat upon impact.

“Now that’s a lot of bags you got there, huh sweetheart?” The older man chuckled darkly. You felt tears beginning to spill out of your eyes and stream down your cheeks. Everything happening so fast. You were panicking. Your brain told you to offer your bags and beg the man to let you go, but you couldn't formulate any words.

You could only cry out pathetic whimpers in complete desperation.

But just as the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade, his body began to convulse and he fell to the ground with a thump, completely unconscious. It was almost like he had been tased.

Your mind was racing, your heart was racing, your eyes were shut tightly out of fear and your sleeve clad hands covered them. But you knew you had just been saved, right? Or was this possibly another man with ulterior motives?

Your heart rate accelerated again.

Your vision was blurry due to the tears still apparent in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them with your sleeves and looked up to see your savior standing in front of you. And nothing in this world could have prepared you for who you saw.

It was him.

“Please tell me you’re okay-”

• • •

Chan’s chest was heaving. The moment he saw that man tug you harshly into that alleyway, he just snapped. He ran in after you, drawing energy from around him as he placed both of his hands flat on the man’s back, sending all of the electricity he could muster through himself and into the man’s body.

He didn't even care if the man was dead or not as he watched his limp form slump onto the ground. All he cared about was you and your safety.

You were his priority.

“Please tell me you’re okay-” He rushed out as he was about to pull you out of the alleyway but you cut him off by immediately collapsing into his chest.

You couldn't handle everything that was happening, couldn’t comprehend it. Your brain was overwhelmed and it just kinda gave out, causing you to pass out. Luckily Chan was there to catch you.

He held you close to him, semi-reeling in the feeling of you in his arms. But he was mostly focused on getting you home. So he picked you up like a princess, held you tighter, and teleported you both to the terrace of your apartment, leaving the body of the man behind in the alleyway.

Upon arriving to your terrace, he opened the sliding glass door, figuring it was unlocked since who locks their terrace doors?

Chan took careful steps, walking you inside and into your living room. He laid you down on your couch, making sure you were flat on your back. He then grabbed a pillow from your bedroom and propped your feet up so they were above your heart level. He didn’t know how long you would be unconscious for so he wanted to be sure your blood would continue circulating properly.

After assessing that you were good for now, Chan took a seat on the chair across from where you now lay on your couch, waiting patiently for you to regain consciousness.

It didn't take that long for you to finally come to, maybe ten minutes or so. But boy, when you woke up you were already in a panic. And despite Chan wanting to run over and comfort you, he knew that would only stress you out more and he definitely didn't want you to faint again.

You sat up abruptly, a headache immediately washing over you. Your left hand flew to your forehead, a pained groan leaving your lips.

“How are you feeling?” A concerned voice spoke from beside you.

Your head snapped to the right, all the memories of the dark alleyway flooded your head all at once. He was real. That’s all you could manage to think. You thought you would be afraid. Yet here you were... Just staring at the allusive boy you thought you had imagined all this time.

“You’re... you’re real?” You asked out loud, wondering if maybe you hit your head when you passed out and this is another figment of your imagination. Albeit, a very realistic figment of your imagination.

“Well that’s not the reaction I was expecting.” He chuckled, looking slightly confused himself. How was this even possible?

“You- I thought... how-?” You were struggling to find the right words, and Chan could tell you were becoming panicked again.

“I know you probably think I’m a stalker, but it’s not like that I swear.” He rushed out before you could freak out, holding his hands in front of him in defense.

He was right, you did think he was a stalker. But for whatever reason, you didn’t think he would harm you. If fact, you would go as far as saying you knew he wouldn't harm you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, attempting you calm yourself. In order to figure what exactly was going on here, you need to ask the right questions.

When you opened your eyes finally, he still seemed genuinely concerned, which threw you. Your stare lingered on him for a couple more moments while you actually took in his appearance.

He was quite handsome. He had on black from head to toe, and he pulled it off well. His jawline was like... chiseled by the Gods. And you found yourself staring at the way it tensed in concern. Which brought you back to your thoughts.

“I thought I made you up.” You finally admitted calmly.

This surprised Chan. He was almost certain you were going to accuse him of being a stalker. But you just sat there, completely unafraid of him. You didn’t even think he was real? Had he really disappeared in front of you so many times that you began to think you imagined him?

“Um... No... No I’m real.” Chan corrected, feeling a bit awkward now. This was not what he had prepped himself for when you woke up. He was planning on dealing with you calling the cops and chasing him out of your house. Not for you to calmly sit in front of him and tell him that all this time you thought he was a figment of your imagination.

“So like... what are you then? Cuz I’m pretty sure you’re not human. No human can just disappear in like five seconds.” You ask, wondering if maybe he was a vampire or something.

Chan had never been more confused in his life. How were you being so calm about this? How could you just calmly ask him what kind of supernatural being he was like that wasn't supposed to be a terrifying thing to be in the presence of? Should he just outright tell you? Would you take it as well as you are right now?

“You are so much more perceptive than I thought you’d be.” Chan sighed, out loud. Your calmness bringing out his clarity, despite how unexpected it was.

“So I’m right? You’re a vampire?” You say, and the slight excitement behind your eyes makes Chan laugh.

“No, definitely not a vampire. But good guess.” He wiped the tear from his left eye, his laughter dying down.

“Well then what are you?” You ask with a slight pout, disappointed you were wrong.

Something about your response gave Chan confidence. Confidence that you weren't going to be deterred so easily. And it’s that confidence that led him to voice his next words.

“I’m a demon.” He said seriously, his eyes running over every one of your facial features to gauge your reaction.

You didn't respond immediately, instead taking time to reflect on what he had just said.

The boy sitting in front of you right now was... a demon? But weren't demons supposed to be inherently evil? Why would he save you from that guy back in the alley then? He couldn’t be evil. He carried you back your place. He propped your feet up with a pillow so your blood would circulated properly while you remained unconscious. He was not evil.

“So you're like... a nice demon?” You asked hesitantly, not wanting to sound stupid but this wasn't exactly your area of expertise.

Chan smiled at your words. He has never really put it into words like that but, he supposed you were right. He was a nice demon.

“I mean, I try to be.” He watches you chuckle and his smile widens, the earlier confusion and concern being replaced with the feeling of calm and serenity that normally emanated from you. He suddenly realizes that this is the first conversation he’s ever had with you, the cute little human he fell in love with. And he’s glad he can finally hear your voice speak directly to him, not just hear you talk to other people.

In that moment he’s come over with the sudden need to hear you say his name.

“I’m Chan.” He says softly.

Chan. To be honest you were expecting like ‘Gorgon The Terrible’ but Chan had a nice sound to it. It fit him well, you thought.

“Chan.” You smiled, holding out your hand. “I’m y/n.”

Chan nearly collapses at the sound of his name leaving your lips, your smile evident in your voice. He takes your tiny outstretched hand into his large one and shakes it softly, nearly saying ‘I know’ before deciding that would be super creepy.

From there, he goes into explaining why you see him around everywhere and how he could disappear as quick as he does. You learn that he has the ability to teleport and the ability to manipulate lightning. And you’re honestly flattered when he tells you that he simply found you more fascinating that any other human and that he wanted to make sure you got home safe every night. He even let it slip that he thought you were pretty that first night he saw you, both of you blushing in that moment.

• • •

You find yourself being totally cool with Chan being a demon.

In fact, you two became really close.

You discovered that you had so many things in common. From your love of the city aesthetic and stormy nights to your hatred for crowded places and loud people.

You got along so well, and you enjoyed being around him.

When he finally took you to his place you were stunned. He laughed at how you thought he would have lived in a dark cave or an eerie castle. There were so many misconceptions in your head about demons apparently.

Eventually, you found yourself more than liking Chan. You had never dated anybody before, never really even felt feelings like this toward someone before. But your stomach did little flips every time he’d smile down at you with that look of complete adoration in his eyes. Every time he would smirk at you from across the table on the days you’d get lunch. They way he’d be leaning against his car when he came to pick you up from work.

You don’t know how he managed to look good literally always. Even in the morning when he’d pick you up to go get breakfast, he would somehow look completely put together in just sweatpants and a t-shirt.

And he was just so affectionate. You loved how he’d gently place his hand on the small of your back as you walked up the stairs of your apartment building. You loved how he would play with your hair and gently sing you to sleep when you were feeling restless, telling you that anytime you couldn't sleep, all you had to do was text him and he would immediately teleport to your side. You loved that made you feel safe.

Fuck... you loved him.

• • •

Chan knew you had started feeling more than friendship for him. He may not be telepathic, but he could sense the shift in your demeanor towards him.

Now, he didn't know exactly how strong the feelings were, but he definitely knew they were there. And he’d be lying if he said he didn't want to explore them.

Currently, you sat on his couch watching anime, the plushie he bought for you cradled loosely in your arms. It was a Tuesday, a day that you used to say was your favorite because you had it to yourself. Now, you said it was your favorite because you got to spend the day with him.

You were wearing one of his sweatshirts, his blue one. Probably his only colored one, but he absolutely adored how you looked in it. It was basically a dress on you, but he liked it that way.

He was silently admiring you from where he stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Your shorts were hiding under the length of his sweatshirt, leaving your legs exposed. You had these little fuzzy socks on, the same ones you were wearing the night he first saw you, and your day old curls fell loosely just above your shoulders.

You were a little bundle of cuteness to Chan. His little bundle of cuteness.

And there was something in that moment that filled him with a sudden confidence.

He pushed himself off of the door frame and took swift long strides to your position on his couch. You looked away from the tv when you saw him come in, not expecting him to rest both his hands on the back of the couch on either side of your head, leaning down so his face was mere inches from yours.

You leaned back further, but Chan followed your movements. Your cheeks were heating up the longer he stared at you. You knew he could see your cheeks getting pinker. Hell, from this close, he could probably feel the heat radiating off your face.

“W-what are you doing?” You silently chided yourself for stuttering, not wanting to make it obvious how nervous he made you.

“You know you’re mine, right?” He suddenly said, a smirk coming to grace his lips. You made the mistake of glancing down at the way the one side tugged upwards, before bringing your gaze back up to his. His smirk deepened, his own eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

You watched him start leaning in, ever so slowly. Your breath hitched in your throat as he got closer and closer. Your eyes followed his movements until his lips were almost touching yours, then they fell shut in anticipation.

But his lips didn't meet yours. Instead, they met your ear.

“You didn’t answer me, babygirl.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to control how fast your heart was beating right now.

“W-what?” You asked quietly, not remembering what question he asked.

“I said you know you’re mine, right?” Chan pulled back slightly to catch your gaze, noticing the blush forming on your cheeks. He licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to devour you right then and there.

But he needed to hear you say it first.

“You’re mine, y/n. No one else’s.” He continued, his voice becoming more serious now. “You know that, right?”

You couldn't help but nod, you knew he was right. You were his. You were absolutely his and his only. You wouldn't give yourself to anyone else, wouldn't love anyone the way you loved him. There was only him for you, only Chan.

“I need to hear you say it, babygirl.” Chan closed his eyes and he let out a sigh, holding himself back until the words he was looking for left those pretty lips of yours.

Everything about him was tempting, and you really wanted this go were it was heading despite your nerves. Because... You really did love this demon.

“I’m yours, Chan.”

Immediately his lips were on yours.

Your lips moved hesitantly but in sync with his, your nerves being apparent. But you couldn't possibly want this anymore than you already did.

Chan could sense your nerves, knowing fully well that this was going to be your first time with someone. But he was going to make you feel the best you've ever felt.

Chan gently pushed you down on the couch, your back laying against the soft cushions while he hovered over you. One of his hands found purchase at your waist while the other softly cradled your face, his lips moving at a slow but sensual pace. Your heart swelled in your chest at how gentle and loving he was being with you, as you slid your arms around his neck.

His tongue carefully slipped past your lips, a quiet gasp escaping them. Chan smirked into to the kiss, his tongue caressing yours.

He moved in between your legs, his hands slowly sliding down your body and finding the backs of your knees. He guided your legs to wrap around his waist, loving the way you obeyed and locked your ankles around him.

His hands then move to your hips as he slowly grinds his against yours. His firm grip prevents you from being able to move yours with his. You get the idea, realizing that he doesn't want you doing any work tonight. He wants to be in complete control.

His lips part from yours, your chest heaving. He doesn't stop though, he continues dragging his soft lips gently across your jawline, down the expanse of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses on the skin there. Chan pulled the collar of his sweatshirt on you down so he could drag his teeth across your collar bone biting down slightly, eliciting a soft whimper from you.

“That was beautiful, love. Do it again.” Chan bit down again, another whimper leaving your lips. He continued this, being fueled by the sounds that spilled out of your mouth, until your neck was littered in hickeys. Chan ran his tongue along the marks he made, pulling back to admire them.

“All mine.” You heard him say under his breath, his hands coming to grip the bottom of your sweatshirt. His eyes found yours, looking for any sort of opposition in them. After finding none, he pulled the material up and over your head, revealing the white lace bra you wore underneath. He dropped down to continue leaving kisses all over your chest, his hips still maintaining their slow grinding motion against your core.

You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want Chan to just take you to his bedroom already. You needed him, more than you’ve ever needed him before.

“Chan~” You begged, your voice sounding foreign to you. You’ve never sounded this needy before.

Chan thrived on how needy you sounded. His name leaving your lips like that is all he wanted to hear tonight.

“Are you sure, babygirl?” He asked for confirmation, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. You nodded, but Chan gave you a look, prompting you to voice your answer with a soft “please.”

That’s all he needed to hear. Without another word, Chan picked you up from the couch. He carried you to his bedroom, his eyes never breaking contact with yours as he laid you down on his bed.

He lifted his shift up and over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor before climbing onto the bed on top of you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” He admitted in a breath, watching as your hands came up to touch his chest but stopped just before you could make contact.

“Can I touch you?” You asked him, his heart melting at how little you looked sprawled out underneath him like this. So small, so innocent.

“Of course you can, babygirl.” Chan smiled, loving the sound of your voice. Loving even more the feeling of your hands when they finally met his skin, running down his chest and incredibly toned torso.

Chan’s eyes closed and his head hung down slightly. He just wanted to rip your shorts off and fuck you into the mattress but he couldn't, he needed to take things slow, guide his babygirl through her first time.

Chan’s eyes opened and he let out a breath, sliding his hands underneath you to unclip your bra. He threw it to the side, leaning down to press a kiss to each of your breasts before continuing on down your stomach.

His lips stopped at the waistband of your shorts, pausing to pull them down your legs, dropping them onto the pile of clothes forming on the floor. He smiles at your white lace panties, the little bow on them causing a deep chuckle to leave his chest.

“What?” You asked, confused as to why he’s laughing.

“Nothing, you’re just cute.” Chan runs his hands up your thighs, taking your panties with his index finger and pulling them down and off of you, leaving you completely bare to him.

Before you have a chance to feel any feelings of self consciousness, Chan slips a finger into your already dripping core.

“Look at you, babygirl. We’ve barely even started and you’re already so wet for me.” Your head falls back, a loud moan escaping your lips. Immediately you bit down on your bottom lip in attempt to muffle your sounds.

“Ah ah, love. None of that.” Chan chided with a smirk, his finger now moving at a steady pace inside you. He wanted to hear every sound you could possibly make tonight. You let go of your lip, moaning out loud again.

“Thatta girl.” He cooed, adding another finger, stretching your walls out for him. He kept it rather slow but steady, scissoring his fingers at times. He wanted you fully prepped, not wanting it to be too painful. Even though he knew that was going to be inevitable.

There was a coil in your stomach and you could feel it tightening the faster his fingers moved. You had only ever touched yourself before but it felt nothing like this. But before the coil could tighten any further, Chan pulled his fingers out of you.

The prettiest whine left your mouth at the loss of contact, Chan’s dick was impossibly hard at the sight of you already so fucked out and needy because of him.

“Are you ready, love?” Chan was beyond ready, but he was giving you a chance to back out now.

“Yes, Chan please~”

In a second, Chan’s sweatpants and boxers were off.

He hovered over you, his hard on in one hand and his other resting by your head, positioning himself at your entrance. After one last look to make sure you were 100% okay, he pushed himself inside you, going slow to let you adjust. He groans and you moan, your eyes closed and your head falling backwards. The pain was definitely there, but for some reason it only added to the pleasure. The feeling was overwhelming and you couldn't stop the few tears the fell from your closed eyes.

Chan leaned down and kissed away the few tears that fell, whispering words of comfort and praise into your skin.

After you finally adjusted, you asked him to move. Quickly, he obliged, pulling out of you and pushing back in just as slow. This time it felt different, the pain subsided, the pleasure outshining the pain. He continued this, pulling out and pushing back into your sopping wet heat.

The feeling of you around him was something Chan couldn't compare to anything else. Everything about you engulfed him, everything about you was perfect. And now you were his. Finally, officially his.

“Oh my god, Chan.” You moaned out breathily. His cock inside you hitting a spot you didn't know existed. Your head fell to the side, your mind going fuzzy. You’ve never felt this much pleasure before. And although it was overwhelming, it also felt really fucking good.

Chan’s pace picked up, knowing that the painful part was over. Now was his time to make you feel the greatest you've ever felt. One hand gripped your hip while the other rested on his elbow next to your head.

His groans were like music to your ears, pushing you further towards the edge. The sounds that came from where you were connected were lewd enough to bring a blush to your face, catching Chan’s attention.

“Is my babygirl blushing?” Chan’s wide smile contrasted with his lewd actions below.

“Shut up~” You whined, but it quickly turned into a moan as Chan hit that spot again. Hitting it consistently now, your hands grabbed his shoulders, needing something to keep you grounded, keep you sane.

Chan buried his face into your neck, muffling his own sounds as he pounded into you. You were on the brink of climax, you could feel it. And it was an incredible feeling.

Your whole body became hyperaware, aware of his death grip on your hip, aware of his breathing on your neck, aware of his cock bottoming out inside you with every thrust.

Suddenly you felt Chan’s grip on your hip lift and instead his hand slid down to your clit, rubbing fast circles into the sensitive bud.

Your body began shaking and you had to warn him, but the words were caught amidst the pleasure.

“Chan I-I” “I know, babygirl. Cum for me.”

Immediately you came, your orgasm washing over you like a tsunami. You cried out Chan’s name in a repeated mantra like you were praying to him. It was easily the greatest feeling you have ever felt ever. Chan followed after you, releasing his load inside you with a groan of your name.

Chan rode out both of your highs, pressing his thumb down onto your clit to prolong yours a little more.

Chan watched you come undone underneath him, in complete awe. Never in his life had he seen a sight as beautiful as you, so fucked out, so spent. Your hair lay messily against his mattress, some strands sticking to your forehead. Your neck and chest were littered in his pink and purple marks, your bottom lip swollen from biting it so much.

You were a masterpiece.

Chan collapsed beside you, his chest heaving. You curled up into his side, Chan pulling you even closer, kissing your forehead.

“I love you, Chan.” You sighed, feeling complete next to him.

“I love you more, babygirl.” He smiled to himself. Everything Chan’s ever wanted was curled up in his arms right now.

“We should get you cleaned up, love.” He pointed out, moving to stand. But you pulled him back down, resting your head on his chest.

“After a nap?” You nuzzled your head further into Chan, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

“Alright, after a nap.” Chan chuckled, running his fingers through your hair and humming softly.

And with that, you fell asleep to the sound of his voice.

• • •

A/N: OH LOOK IT’S HERE PLZ ENJOY LMAO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG.

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