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onecanonlife · 3 years

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Tommy’s getting tired of people thinking he’s not real. Tubbo, meanwhile, hopes that this hallucination of his best friend will stay a while longer.

They work it out.

(word count: 1,563)

............................

It only takes about another fifteen minutes for him to snap.

“What the fuck are you doing that for?” he demands, planting his feet and wheeling around and staring Tubbo dead in the face, because Tubbo’s been trailing along behind him like a fucking lost puppy or some shit since he got out, and he’s tired of it, tired of his best friend looking at him like that, with equal amounts of wonder and dread in his eyes, like he’s not fucking real at all.

Or should that be former best friend? He doesn’t fucking know. Apparently, it didn’t take all that long for Tubbo to replace him with Ranboo of all people. And get married. Apparently.

Tubbo blinks at him.

“I don’t think you’re real,” he says, and if Tommy’s anger hadn’t been boiling over before, it is now. He didn’t go to hell and back for people to tell him he’s not real. He didn’t stay in the same cell as Dream for a month for people to tell him he’s not real. He is so, so very real. The shock that shoots through his system, the bolt of all-consuming terror that overtakes his mind whenever anyone so much as bumps into him is proof enough of that. He is real, and who the fuck is anyone else to say that he’s not?

“Well guess what,” he says, “I fucking am, so deal with it or go away.”

He spent so long wishing to be by Tubbo’s side again. He didn’t think he’d get out to find this. Didn’t think he’d come out to be replaced. Didn’t think Tubbo would crouch along after him without saying anything at all, like he’s the one who died.

“You don’t need to be angry about it,” Tubbo replies, as if he’s the one being wronged here. “I’ve got it all figured out. See, I didn’t think you were dead at first, either. Sam told us and my brain went all weird and flat and in denial, because I knew it couldn’t be true, because you couldn’t be dead. But then it was a few days later and you still hadn’t come out, and it was true after all. So I can’t trust my brain, really, so this is probably my brain going into denial again. Wishful thinking.”

“You—” He cuts himself off, rage warring with confusion warring with he-doesn’t-fucking-know-what, because he’s been dead and locked in prison and he’s not even used to the sunlight yet, much less his own emotions. “I literally pinched you. I pinched you, and then you ran away and stood staring at me from that new—that new McDonald’s!”

“Tactile hallucinations aren’t impossible,” Tubbo informs him. “It’s probably because I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

That draws him up short, just a little bit. “You have?” he asks. “I thought you got married.”

“I did,” Tubbo agrees. “It was a spur-of-the-moment sort of thing, really, so nobody got invited, but I was thinking about maybe having a bigger ceremony once you got out so you could be my best man, or something. I don’t really know how that works. ‘Cause it’s a platonic marriage, right, so I don’t know if you’re supposed to do it differently. But I wanted you to be there, and then it turned out that you wouldn’t ever, ever be.”

Well. Alright, so he wasn’t disregarded entirely, then. But still—

“And then,” Tubbo continues, “and then we adopted Michael, and I wanted you to be his godfather. You were supposed to be his godfather. Michael was going to love you. I thought you were gonna come back out and you were gonna meet Michael and everything was going to be alright. But then you didn’t.”

“Who the fuck is Michael,” he says flatly, even though his head is reeling because adopted—?

“He’s our son!” Tubbo says. “Mine and Ranboo’s! And you were gonna be the godfather. And it was going to be great, and we were gonna be a family, but then you died, and now Michael’s not even going to get to meet you. And you’re just, you’re just dead and I’m following you around because I don’t have anything better to do.”

There is—there is so much to unpack there, he doesn’t even know where to begin. Ranboo is—is the spouse, then, and he supposes he should have guessed that. The Michael issue isn’t too much clearer, since he doesn’t have a frame of reference for this—for this child? That Tubbo has adopted? What the hell? But it’s the last sentence that sends the anger flooding back, because what the fuck does he mean, he doesn’t have anything better to do?

“If that’s how you feel, then why don’t you—” he starts, but Tubbo cuts him off.

“I’m sort of pathetic, I guess,” he says. “‘Cause I’m following around a hallucination. I guess it’s because I know it’s the best I’m ever going to get. And you know, I’d rather have a you that’s not real than not have you at all, because this way, I get to see you and hear you. Even if you’re not here. So I need to enjoy it while I can, because I don’t know how long hallucinations last for, so I don’t know when you’ll go away again. And I don’t want you to go away. I don’t want you to be dead.”

All through this speech, Tubbo’s face remains distant, a little open, a little blank. But his eyes are welling up with tears, and as Tommy watches, they start spilling over his cheeks, uncommented upon.

And Tommy feels the rage drain out of him.

It was hell, where he was, in that terrible darkness, that void, being torn apart and shoved back together again. It was hell, coming back, everything too bright and too loud and too much, his body flinching and his heart racing at any movement, and a single touch is still enough to send him back there, to that moment, his vision fading and pain bursting like fireworks and Dream’s mask leaning over him, grinning.

It’s been hell, seeing how everything’s changed.

But Tubbo missed him. Really, really missed him. And maybe he’s replaced him a bit, and Tommy no longer has any idea how to feel about that, because it seems like Tubbo wasn’t trying to? That Tubbo still wanted him to be there, still intended him to be there? So he’s still a little pissed, maybe, and he still really, really wants people to stop being so weird, to stop reminding him at every juncture that he died, died and came back, but—

But Tubbo is crying.

“Tubbo,” he says, “I’m not a hallucination.”

“You are, though,” Tubbo says. “My mind’s playing tricks. You’re not—you’re not really—” He hiccups, and Tommy comes to a decision.

He extends a hand. It should be fine. It’s just Tubbo, and he’s choosing to do this. It should be fine. It’s going to be fine.

“C’mon, then,” he says. “Hold my hand, I’ll prove it. Maybe you could make up a pinch in your brain, but I bet you couldn’t make up this.”

Tubbo stares at his hand for a very, very long time.

“Don’t make this weird,” he says. “Tubbo, please, for the love of god, don’t make this weird. I really will go away, and you can just stay here and cry.”

Tubbo blinks, hard. And then, slowly, reaches out and takes his hand.

Tommy flinches, every nerve in his body lighting up, screaming at him to get away, and he can’t stop himself from gasping, from letting out a little whimper. But in the next moment, he’s fine, his heart rate already calming, and it’s just Tubbo’s hand in his, his grip loose and warm.

Tubbo’s eyebrows furrow. A minute passes before he speaks.

“This is a long time for a tactile hallucination to last,” he says.

Tommy rolls his eyes as hard as he possibly can, in order to express all of his exasperation.

“I’m not a fucking hallucination, alright?” he says. “Has married life made you an idiot or something?”

Tubbo looks up at him, then. He looks back, and tries to convey with his eyeballs his sheer displeasure at literally all of this.

“I’m holding your hand,” Tubbo says slowly. “You’re not disappearing, and I’m holding your hand.”

He tries to convey with his eyeballs that Tubbo should consider arriving at the point sometime soon.

“Oh my god,” Tubbo says. “You’re real. Tommy, you’re real.”

“Damn fucking right I’m real,” he says. And something like relief washes over him. It’s nice to hear those words, from someone else. And Tubbo just stands there and holds his hand and keeps crying, harder, if that’s even possible, and Tommy thinks that this is a scene that he should possibly put a stop to.

But he doesn’t. He stands there and holds Tubbo’s hand and lets Tubbo cry. Because nothing is alright. Nothing at all is alright. Everything sucks and everything’s different and he needs to kill Dream and the world kept on turning without him. But Tubbo is glad to have him back. Tubbo missed him. Tubbo still wants him.

If his eyes are wet, it’s just the rain. He glances up, and blinks against the sun.

Just the rain.

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corinnesamuels · 3 years

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I Drove All Night

A little one-shot to switch up all the angst i’ve been writing, and a sequel to The One About the Cupholder, though you don’t technically need to read that one first. I do love that one though =)

Read on ao3

I drove all night to get to you. Is that alright?

I drove all night, crept in your room, woke you from your sleep

To make love to you

She’s almost embarrassed about how desperately she wants him to pick up the phone.

Her heart races as the mobile rings once, twice, and a third time. Lily find herself sighing in relief when she hears a voice on the line.

“Hello?” The voice is garbled with sleep. She’d clearly woken him up.

“I need the address to the house in Exeter.” Lily says as she flips her indicator to change lanes. She can hear bed sheets rustling in the background of the call as he moves around, probably to better see the clock on his bedside table.

“The house in…why do you need that at this hour?”

“Because I’m driving to Exeter.”

Sirius sighs in exasperation and grumbles before responding. “You realize it’ll be nearly 4 in the morning before you get there? James will have my head if I let you get on the road this late.”

“I’m already pulling onto the M4 now, love.”

Sirius makes another sound of displeasure, and Lily can picture him dragging a hand roughly across his face. “You and James are the same brand of impossible. Let the record show that I didn’t sign off on this.”

It’s only been a few days since James left to watch his parents’ house while they’re away on holiday, and she thought she’d been prepared for the time away, but God, does she miss him. And after the week from hell, she more than misses him.

She needs him.

James had tried very hard to get her to come with him. He’d been particularly convincing in the wee hours of several different mornings, so much so that Sirius had scowled at them when they appeared at breakfast. Remus had given her that smirk of his—the one he gives when he knows something you think is a secret—and she could barely look him in the eyes as she slurped down the coffee James had poured her. To be fair, she had been quite loud. They would have been too if they’d been in her shoes…in James’ bed…

Anyways.

As much as she had wanted to say yes, part of the visit fell on her monthly dinner with her parents and Petunia—the one she hated going to but promised her parents she would attend in order to make an effort in mending her relationship with Petunia.

When she stormed out of the restaurant at the end of the evening, however, she felt it would have been better if she had just gone with James in the first place. Petunia had been insufferable, making snide comments toward Lily and fawning over Vernon all night. Vernon had been the terror he always was—openly hateful and chauvinistic, rude to the wait staff, and made condescending comments about James, whom he had never met. It had been a fiasco. When she got back to her flat that night, she screamed into her pillow to relieve some of the tension in her body, but it was no use. A tough week had ended with a horrendous evening, and Lily felt like she couldn’t breathe. It was as if the world were closing in around her.

But the farther away she drove from London, the more that pressure began to feel like anticipation coursing through her veins. Sirius had been right. James will be furious to discover that she decided to drive so far this late, but she’ll cross that bridge when she gets there. Right now, all she can think of falling into his bed and drowning in him.

Ever since she’d fallen, quite literally, into his lap at Remus’ post-dissertation party, he’d managed to brighten up her world in ways she hadn’t imagined possible. He was caring and attentive, clever and daring. She’s laughed more with James than she thinks she ever has with anyone else. The hearty kind that builds from deep within the stomach and brings tears to her eyes. The kind that’s sometimes too loud and causes people to give them strange looks when they’re in public. But James never cares, and more and more, Lily finds that neither does she. She’s always felt safe around him. Not just physically but emotionally. She’s able to share her secrets, her insecurities, and her worries. He never judges her or makes her feel small for them, as other men had. He doesn’t try to stifle her dreams or put her into a box or push her to be someone she isn’t, like Petunia had.

Before she knew it, Lily had fallen for him hard and fast and had been so nervous to admit it, to him or to herself. Then one morning he declared it over breakfast and told her that he would show her every chance he got if she let him. He’d done just that. Every day is like a new adventure with James.

Flashbacks of memories with him push her on as she drives, pulling her closer to him as if she were an object caught in his gravitational pull.

Fitting, when she thinks about how he’s turned her world on its axis.

When Lily pulls up to the house, it’s just shy of 4 in the morning, as Sirius had predicted it would be. She wonders somewhat belatedly if he’ll wake when she gets to the door. Lily kicks herself at the thought. He isn’t typically a heavy sleeper, but the idea of driving all this way to have to sleep in her car causes panic to build inside her. But not long after she rings the bell, she hears heavy footsteps and her shoulders relax as he opens the door.

“Lily?” Confusion is etched all over his face, and the graveled sound of heavy sleep laces his voice. His hair stands at even more angles than usual, and then more still as he runs a hand through his hair in bewilderment. He looks a bit like he can’t tell if he’s dreaming or not.

Lily can’t help it. She drops her bag and launches herself toward him, wrapping her legs around his waist as he catches her reflexively. She takes a moment to drink him in, his eyes still laden with sleep, his hair wild as ever, and his lips—soft and full and beginning to form words and phrases and questions that Lily thought could wait until another day, maybe even another lifetime.

She leans in and kisses him furiously, and after a mild moment of shock, he returns it, kicking the door shut behind them before pushing her up against one of the walls in the hallway. As she thinks about how pleased she is at the reception to her showing up in the middle of the night, somewhat unannounced, he pulls back. Lily lets out a disappointed groan. She rather likes the way this was going and doesn’t want to stop.

“Wait.” James says as he shakes his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his brain. “What are you doing here? It’s…what time is it?” He rambles as his sleep-addled brain attempts to make sense of things.

“I needed you.” She whispers it, but it’s as if every fiber of her being—every cell and atom—came together to make this one point. The tone of it stops him in his tracks.

“Everything about this week has been shit. Work, Petunia, I just—I needed you. The only thing that would make any of this better is you. And if that means that I had to drive all night to get to you, then so be it.” They lock eyes as she runs her thumbs along his cheekbones absently. “I hope that’s alright?”

James’ pupils dilate, and he kisses her again, picking up the same energy as before as he presses her further into the wall with his hips, his hands steadying her from underneath her thighs. “Evans, the only thing better than seeing you right now is hearing that I’m the only person who can make things better for you.” He smirks as he leans his forehead against hers to catch his breath. “I do enjoy it when you stroke my ego, you know.”

Lily laughs, tilting her head back slightly. “I’ll be sure to bring you back down to earth tomorrow, but I’d rather stroke something else at the moment.” She says, nipping at his lips lightly.

James lets out a soft laugh before smiling at her tenderly. “Being with you feels like flying, Lily.” He said. “I haven’t felt like I’ve been down to earth in months.”

If he hadn’t been holding her, she might have melted right there in the hallway. Her heartbeat pounds away in her chest, and Lily wonders if he can hear it. But when she drops a hand to his chest, she notices that their hearts seem to be beating at the same rapid pace. The symmetry of the moment makes her smile as relief floods through her body, and she thinks—not for the first time—that there must be some kind of feeling beyond love. Because whatever this is makes the word seem inadequate. Whatever this is between them is beyond love or lust. It’s euphoria and catharsis, passion and stillness and all the feelings in between. Whatever this is could light up the darkest skies. God, whatever this is? This seems like it could save the world. Love couldn’t possibly be enough to convey these things she feels for and in him.

This must be what sanctuary feels like.

#jily fanfic #jily au #oneshot #Lily misses James #minor BlackEvans BroTP #fluff #I don't know a damn thing about British highways or cell reception #I put my tidal library on shuffle and fics come out

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

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Saving Her (Ojiro Mashirao x Wolf!Reader)

Part 3: Reuniting with Ojiro, protective Sero and Shoji, Aizawa’s temporary guardianship, Koda’s adorable rabbit and naptime.

Word Count: 4.8k

Pelting towards him at full speed, you saw him drop his books just so he could catch you in his arms. You giggled as he wound his tail back in its familiar place around your middle once he drew back and nuzzled into his neck, breathing in his scent deeply.

A content growl rumbled from the back of your throat as you scented him.

He chuckled, ruffling your hair. "Y/N-chan, you're back!!"

A huge smile broke out on your face as one rivaling your happiness stretched across his and you hopped up and down once you broke apart from him.

Your eyes shone brilliantly with a light that put the stars to shame.

"Ojiro-san, everyone's been so nice and friendly to me!!" You waved your hands around wildly to convey to him your experience. "I met Tsu-chan and we were all in Yaoyorozu-san's room and Hagakure-san painted my nails, see?! And then Sato-san made a cake and it was so good!! I had no idea that things could be so fun and—"

You stopped dancing and lowered your arms when you saw the soft expression adorning his features. Despite his arms being crossed over his chest, he didn't seem closed off to you. It was more like he was observing something he really liked from far away.

Padding towards him, your head cocked to the side, furry ears twitching curiously. "Ojiro-san?"

"I'm really happy for you, Y/N-chan." Ojiro murmured breathlessly.

His confession had your heart thumping wildly in your chest. And in a much more intense way than you experienced with Sato and the girls.

Your breath caught in your throat and you swallowed thickly, growing shy in a way that the attentive observers scattered across the room didn't miss.

"Ooooo someone's got a crush." Kaminari teased from the sofa and you blushed.

Ojiro frowned at the uncomfortable spot you had been put in and subtly shook his head at the electric boy. But his heart skipped a beat when you didn't deny it and his gaze flickered back to you.

Your whole face had turned bright red and you were unable to look at him, mouth opening and closing, at a complete loss for words.

His tail snaked around your waist, tugging you closer until he could embrace you.

"It's okay." He whispered so only you could hear him. "Whether it's true or not, don't worry. I won't be scared off."

You sighed in relief but the tender moment was broken when someone wedged their way between the two of you.

Ojiro narrowed his eyes at the purple head in suspicion.

Mineta introduced himself, salivating at the mouth in a way that made you want to crawl someplace safe.

You curled into Ojiro's chest, wanting to hide your face but not wanting to seem rude. So you introduced yourself to him, suppressing the urge to snarl when his gaze didn't leave your chest.

Then, he was gone.

"Resident pervert." Sero warned you, the ball of tape by his side struggling on the floor from where he had tied him up.

He had come down for dinner but when he saw Mineta bothering you, he didn't hesitate to shoot his tape to bind him in it.

You blinked. Somehow when you weren't looking, Shoji had come to stand in front of you, acting like a shield with his duplicate arms stretched out.

"T-Thank you," You faced the two of them wide-eyed at what just happened. "Both of you. I-I didn't know what to say."

"Don't worry." Shoji said, gesturing towards the barely recognizing Mineta. "He's learning to respect women but in the meantime, this is the best solution."

Sero nodded his head in agreement, tugging the ball of protesting tape along the floor as he flashed you a thumbs up. "As long as you have Ojiro with you, you'll be just fine!!"

The two strolled away and everyone else resumed their studies.

The displeasure creasing Ojiro's features didn't leave and you lifted your hand, smoothing them out and poking his cheek up into a smile.

"It's true I don't know a lot about people, I know I can be naïve," You admitted quietly so that only he could hear. "Are you mad at me?"

He looked at you, shocked you would even think that. He was quick to reassure you. "No, no, of course not."

The tension disappeared and you exhaled shakily.

Taking your hand, he squeezed it once. "Let's go upstairs, I got you something."

At that, your ears immediately perked up and your tail began wagging furiously.

"What is it?!" You exclaimed, running around him only to be halted by where your hands were joined together. "I want to see!!"

Ojiro swore he heard Sato chuckle at your energy from the kitchen.

A disinterested tone floated from the doorway. "Before you do that—"

You paused mid-skip and would've gone crashing into the door that had just opened once more if it wasn't for Ojiro's quick thinking. He brought his tail up and you ran into it with an 'oof' as it slammed into your chest, knocking the wind out of you but successfully catching you in time.

"Take a look at this first and tell me what you think." Aizawa finished, holding something up.

Arms draped over Ojiro's tail from where he had caught you, you smiled sheepishly as he shook his head at your antics, lowering you so that your feet were planted firmly on the ground.

Aizawa held out a single sheet of paper and you took it, scanning over it relatively quickly.

"A guardian?" You inquired with a tilt of your head.

He nodded, hands stuffed in the front of his pockets as he leaned against the frame of the door. "For legal reasons. This will allow you to do as you please as well as enroll in UA."

You flipped it over and then back again, confusion clear as day on your face.

"I don't understand. Why are you asking me?"

According to the contract, all he needed to do was sign it. It didn't make sense to you why he would let you know ahead of time. You weren't used to such consideration.

Pushing off of his post, he strode over to where you were. If you didn't already know that he was a softie underneath that unapproachable front, you would've been scared as he towered over you.

"Because it involves you." He scoffed lightly. "Your guardian will be me until you find another home if that's what you want. This is a binding agreement that'll secure your safety for now. If you agree then I'll sign it but if not then you'll have to leave here until Principal Nezu and All Might can call in a few more favors."

Your jaw dropped at the mention of the number one hero. "All Might?!"

Aizawa looked like he got this reaction all the time from people so you shut your mouth and cleared your throat.

"What does it do to you?" You asked meekly, wondering what he would be getting into if he signed the contract.

"Do?" He raised an eyebrow, shrugging his shoulders. "It makes me responsible for you, that's all."

"... I," You gulped. "I-I..."

You couldn't bring yourself to say it no matter how hard you tried.

Ojiro watched you visibly struggle with it and wanted to go to you but Shoji's hand on his shoulder prevented him from doing so. Instead, he was forced to shift his books in his arms, his backpack unusually heavy as he waited for the silence to be resolved.

Aizawa noticed your conflicted emotions. You were more concerned with how this would affect him rather than you. To think of his feelings first before your own made a flicker of admiration shoot through him.

You sure had potential.

You let out a small squeak when he rested his hand on your head, blinking up at him with big eyes.

"You're not tying me down, kid."

He called you out on exactly what you were worried about.

"So stop thinking you're being a burden." He told you, retracting his hand when he saw some of his students watching the exchange.

Tears welled up in your eyes and you hastily brushed them away before they could fall. Handing the paper back to him, you gazed up at him with earnest eyes.

"Thank you," You said softly. "I understand you could've easily given me away, so thank you. I won't cause any trouble, I promise."

A rare chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Yeah, I know, kid."

You shut the door behind him as Aizawa walked out the dormitory, clutching your hands tightly to your chest with an uncharacteristically solemn expression.

But Ojiro could read you better than that. Your tail was lashing back and forth like his did when he was unbelievably happy.

He couldn't stop himself from laughing when it became uncontrollable to the point where you actually grabbed onto it to stop it from giving away your feelings.

"You're happy." He remarked and you grinned.

"Don't tell him, he'll never let me live it down." You joked, offering to carry his books since it looked like his arms would give out any moment.

You waved goodbye to Asui and Tokoyami as you both headed up towards his room.

The elevators had gotten a bit more bearable to you but they still were a pain since they were so anxiety inducing. You never knew how you could be so scared of something you had no prior knowledge of before but you supposed that came with not knowing how the world worked.

You had been hidden away for a long time. Now, it was like dipping your toes in an endless ocean of possibilities.

He would give anything to make sure your future wasn't filled with the pain of your past.

Noticing he was caught up in his thoughts, you shot ahead of him sneakily.

Ojiro was so busy thinking that he nearly crashed face-first into the door which mysteriously shut in front of him. A smile twitched at the edge of his mouth and he cleared this throat.

"I could've sworn this was open a minute ago." He said loud enough for you to hear inside.

Your giggles filtered through the wood separating the two of you and with some difficulty, he managed to get it open.

"You seemed so distracted that I couldn't help playing a little." You teased, sitting on the floor in the middle of his room.

He swallowed, setting down his textbooks on his desk. Seeing you like that, tail waving behind you with an eagerness as if you were waiting for him made his heart pound harder.

You remained blissfully unaware of his surfacing feelings as you sniffed his backpack.

"Soooo, what's the surprise?!" You cried eagerly.

Ojiro barked out a laugh, unzipping it to pull out a large, compressed package and tossed it to you.

Thanks to your reflexes, you caught it effortlessly and flipped it over, reading the writing on the front.

"Yuzu beef jerky." He explained, scratching the back of his neck bashfully as your eyes lit up. "I know we don't have any meat in the fridge at the moment, Bakugou was supposed to go get some more last week but he forgot so I got something to hold you over until we go again."

Your eyes glistened with tears, touched to the core once again by his thoughtfulness and you were reminded of everyone's kindness. You felt the urge to repay it, to thank them properly and filed it away for later.

Ojiro nearly choked on his saliva when you knelt down in front of him, your canines poking out in the brightest smile he's seen to date.

"Thank you, Ojiro-kun." You breathed.

He relaxed and his eyes grew fond.

You squealed as he ruffled your hair, batting at his hand playfully, but in truth, didn't want him to stop.

He laughed, patting your head a couple more times before sinking down in the chair by his desk. "I have to work on some stuff but you're more than welcome to stay unless you'd be more comfortable with one of the girls or in a room of your own."

He pointed to the jerky you had already torn open and was wrestling with it in the corner. "I know Jirou-chan likes that stuff too, so you could give some to her if you'd like."

You pouted, shaking your head and clinging to it almost possessively. "Mine."

You had nothing against your friend but he had given this to you. It was a gift and you wanted it all to yourself.

Chuckling, Ojiro left you to your own devices while he got started on his homework. He would need help from Yaoyorozu later on with math but he could knock out the majority of it for now. Tapping his pencil mindlessly, his mouth pressed in a hard line as he hammered out worksheet after worksheet.

It wasn't until a puff of warm breath hit the back of his neck did he look up.

You were gazing at his homework with sort of an awed expression and he shuffled back so that you could see.

"Want to learn?" He offered. "It's not particularly interesting but it might make the time pass by quicker."

You nodded eagerly, plopping on his lap before he could stop you. You twisted around when he tensed underneath you.

Sputtering, Ojiro's cheeks colored at your innocence. He knew you were doing that just so you could see better but he couldn't deny how perfect you were for him. Your height made it perfect so that you were nestled right below his chin and he wondered what it would be like if he just rested it on your shoulder for a second.

Your tail was curled around your leg as you sat in between his thighs and your back was pressed flush up against his chest as you studied the numbers and words on the page.

Tilting your head up when he didn't start explaining, you wrung your hands anxiously in your lap. "Am I heavy?"

"N-No, princess," He stammered, the pet name slipping out again despite his best efforts to bite his tongue. "You're not."

Holy All Might, were you always so freaking cute?

You looked adorable, peering up at him like that and he felt like he was about to combust. The fact that you were still wearing his hoodie didn't make it any better.

You already looked like you were his.

Swallowing the lump caught in his throat, he began to stumble over his words, pointing out different equations to you on the paper, ones that he had already solved so you could see the process before giving you something to write with to practice on your own.

Your tongue poked out between your lips in concentration as you tried to solve it like he did. Then, you shuddered.

Despite the warm hoodie you had on, the AC was blasting and you were getting cold.

You tried to hide it from him. After all, he had already given you so much. You didn't want to keep taking advantage of his kindness.

You didn't get a chance to debate about it anymore in your head because a set of hands inched across your tummy hesitantly. You knew he was asking you if you were cold and you cursed your inability to conceal it from his keen eyes.

Sinking back further into his chest, you gave your answer and his arms hugged your waist from behind.

Either one of you could have easily gotten up to get his blanket but neither one of you wanted to move.

You were naturally very affectionate and in return, you were growing used to accepting a lot of affection from him, but somehow this time, it felt different. It didn't feel like the casual affection you experienced from Aizawa and the girls, this felt warm.

Intimate.

And as much as you didn't want to admit it, you desperately never wanted to leave his embrace.

The two of you jumped when there was a knock on the door.

Out of instinct, Ojiro squeezed your middle, ready to whisk you away at a moment's notice just like that day he rescued you.

Unfortunately, that caused you to squeak and the next second, the door cracked open.

Ojiro visibly relaxed when he saw his friend holding his pet rabbit. "Koda-kun!!"

He waved hello to the both of you and you returned it shyly as Ojiro invited him in. Internally, you wondered if you should get off of Ojiro now but really not wanting to.

Little did you know, he was feeling the same way.

The teen behind you nudged your shoulder and pinched your side to gain your attention. "He knew your first day back must've been kind of stressful so he offered to let you play with Yuwai-chan if you want to."

Intrigued by the creature exploring the room, you reluctantly climbed off of Ojiro, getting on all fours and following the bunny. You were unsure if it wanted to play with you since you were sure you seemed scary to such a fragile animal.

"You're not afraid I'll eat her?" You asked Koda.

Usually people ran at the sight of your canines.

He shook his head. Ojiro said you didn't have a mean bone in your body and he trusted him. He only wanted you to get more acclimated to the rest of his class and since he lacked the social skills, he was hoping to accomplish it through this instead.

Koda didn't talk much but you didn't mind at all. Choosing a spot on the floor, you tucked your knees up to your chest and waited for her to come towards you.

The domesticated bunny eventually crawled into your lap and you internally exploded at how soft and tiny she was.

"Kawaii..." You murmured to yourself as you petted her fur.

Ojiro smiled, sharing a look with Koda as you handled the latter's treasured pet with so much care. He couldn't bring himself to look away for fear he would forget how happy you looked.

You lifted your head and your gaze locked with Koda's. "Kawaii-chan!!"

Koda smiled at you happily and you beamed, eyes flickering over to Ojiro.

He was pretty sure his heart stopped. You were seeking his approval.

"It's a cute name." Ojiro commented softly.

You wiggled happily in place, squealing when the bunny burrowed her way into your arms and promptly fell asleep.

After some time, you handed her back to her rightful owner and resumed your previous position on Ojiro once he didn't protest. You bit down on your lip to keep the smile from spreading too far as his hands settled on your waist.

"Can," You cursed how meek you sounded. "Can you hug me again?"

All traces of nervousness faded as he obeyed almost immediately and you laughed breathlessly when his fingers danced along your sides.

"Stop that!!" You protested, unable to stop giggling before your hands shot to his wrists in a desperate attempt to pry him off.

Ojiro grinned, doing it again before conceding and stopping.

"It seems like you have a weakness, Y/N-chan." He whispered in your ear and you snorted.

"Who would be immune to tickling?"

You stiffened as his chin rested lightly on your head, in between your ears.

"C'mon, let's see if you can finish those four problems before I get the rest of this done." He challenged with a smile.

You grinned. Challenge accepted.

Before either one of you knew it, it was getting close to midnight. Everyone else was already in bed or fast asleep.

Everyone except for the two of you.

You had successfully completed his challenging questions for you to solve and as you proudly showed off your work, he had praised you. Not just for getting them right but for all the effort you had put in, emphasizing the latter.

You were sure you had never felt more touched by his genuine words. The two of you had moved to his futon once he finally set down his pencil, done for the night.

You were supposed to have your own room but since that only was going to come about once Aizawa signed the agreement, you didn't have a place of your own for one more night. The girls had kindly offered up their rooms for you to crash in but you had respectfully declined, saying you wanted to be with Ojiro.

You felt most comfortable with him.

They weren't worried for you. He was one of the purest boys in the class and had already shown he would never harm a hair on your head.

He had offered you another one of his sweatshirts and was puzzled when you nodded so fast, he was afraid your head would fall off. His unspoken question lingering in the air was answered when he caught you sniffing it once you thought he wasn't looking.

I'm whipped for her already...

You were about to make yourself comfortable on the floor when you saw him doing the same. The two of you glared at each other for the first time, engaged in a staring match that would end when the other caved and took the bed.

"What are you doing?" You growled through clenched teeth.

"Sleeping." Ojiro answered nonchalantly, fluffing his pillow only to have it snatched out from under him and tossed onto the futon with so much force it was a wonder how feathers weren't flying out of it.

"Get off the floor, Ojiro-kun." Your eyes glinted. "I won't take no for an answer."

"This is my room, Y/N-chan." He said firmly with absolutely no malice in his voice. "And as a guest, you're required to sleep in the bed."

You shook your head, crossing your arms childishly over your chest. He shot you a warning look but you stubbornly stayed put.

"Time's up." He declared, pushing himself up to his feet and striding over to you.

"Wha—" You cut off with a yelp as he hoisted you easily into the air. "Ojiro-kun!! Put me down!!"

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "Okay."

You shrieked as he dropped you onto the bed, bouncing a couple of times before shooting him a glare. "Ojiro!!"

He wouldn't let you get up, placing his hands on either side of your hips and leaned in close, staring at you intently. Your cheeks reddened and all protests of how evil he was died on your tongue the second he was a millimeter away from you.

"Sleep here, okay?" He pleaded, expression giving way to concern. "I don't want you to sleep on the floor. You deserve better than that."

You couldn't tear your gaze away from him. "But... But if you sleep on the floor—"

"I'll be alright, don't worry." He reassured you, patting your head and offering up a comforting smile.

You wanted to argue but lacked the energy to do so.

This time, you didn't resist as he tucked you in. Surrendering yourself to the exhaustion that had just kicked in, you were completely unaware of the fond gaze trained on your face.

It had to be sometime during 3 am when it started.

At first, it was just little things that woke him up. Rustling barely distinguishable until it got more frequent. Soft whimpers filled with poorly suppressed anguish followed not long after. It wasn't until you screamed that he tore off the covers and bundled you in his arms.

"Y/N, Y/N!! Wake up!!" He pleaded desperately.

Your eyes were crazed and feral when they shot open and Ojiro almost had a heart attack at the blood staining your teeth from where you had bit your lip. Your lip was busted but he didn't have time to dwell on it now.

"It's okay, it's okay, I got you." He chanted over and over again as he rocked you back and forth in his arms. "It was just a nightmare, you're safe now. I promise."

You couldn't calm down. Your chest was tight and you felt like you couldn't breathe. You were panicking, hyperventilating.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears and you couldn't hear anything else.

Ojiro hushed you softly, stroking your hair tenderly. "It's okay, I'm here. I'm here, Y/N."

He continued to soothe you gently, combing his finger through your hair to calm you down, his other arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close. It wasn't until ten minutes later that you had finally started to calm down and come to your senses. And then you started to cry.

Silently, as if you couldn't make any noise.

At first, he was worried that you couldn't breathe but when you started hiccuping, he couldn't suppress the small twinge of relief he felt and focused on helping you through it.

The next thing you wanted to do when you regained control of your breathing was to apologize for waking him up but he wasn't having it.

"It's okay," He whispered, tucking your hair behind your ears. "You're not alone. I'm here for you."

You clutched onto his t-shirt tighter, the material growing sheer as your tears flowed.

Ojiro rubbed your back soothingly, his big brother instincts kicking in from when he would comfort his little sister.

"What do you need?" He asked kindly.

Your muffled reply in his chest had him smiling faintly. Your thighs were straddled on either side of his hips but neither of you noticed how close you were sitting to him until you were practically pressed chest to chest.

His warmth enveloped you like a blanket as he held you.

"I can't quite hear you, princess." Ojiro joked, hoping to hear you laugh.

A flush creeped up your neck as you put him at arm's length.

"Can... C-Can you s-stay with me?" You managed to say, embarrassed to be asking for such a thing this late at night.

An identical blush overtook his features but he nodded, easing you back down so that you could both lay comfortably on the bed. He let you arrange him however you wanted, somewhat surprised when you snuggled into his chest. His hand hovered over your waist for a moment and he lowered it slowly.

"Is this okay?" He asked, making sure he wasn't crossing any boundaries.

You nodded sleepily, clutching onto the front of his shirt weakly. "Yes, I want you to hold me... please? If that's okay..."

He was never going to be one to say no to you. Draping his arm over your waist, he pulled the blankets up, ensuring you were all the way covered.

You pouted when his chest shook with laughter. "What are you laughing at, huh?"

Your hand flew up to cover your face out of the embarrassment of being laughed at but you were closer to him than you expected.

He caught your wrist deftly before you could accidentally hit him, shaking his head with an easy smile. "You're just very cute, that's all."

If it wasn't so late at night and he didn't have a near heart attack seeing you in that panicking state, he probably wouldn't have let it slip out. But weird things happened at 3 am and he wasn't in the mood to dispute it.

And neither were you.

Literally. You were speechless. How in the world did he find you cute? Those were two words you never heard before.

Ojiro's breath hitched when you tangled your legs with his, your bare foot brushing against his.

"Shoot, Y/N, you're freezing!!" He exclaimed in shock.

You squeezed your eyes shut when he crowded you closer, bringing you in so tight you thought you were going to lose your ability to breathe.

Cheeks puffing out petulantly, your voice came out stifled. "Ojiro-kun, you're squishing me."

Your strained mumble made him jump apart but you caught his collar before he could escape. Tail hitting the wall behind you, you didn't let up your grip.

Eyes widening in alarm as he moved, you feared you would be left all alone again. "... Don't go."

He froze as vulnerability shook your voice. Wrapping his arms around you again but looser this time so that you could breathe comfortably, he molded his body around you, tail winding around his leg.

In this position, you could hear his heart beating against your ear loud and clear.

Your eyes fluttered close and it lulled you to sleep once more, wrapped in a warm blanket of safety that kept the terrors away for the rest of the night.

"Thank you... Ojiro..." You whispered.

He smiled softly, resting his chin on top of your head as he crooked your face into his neck, your breathing evening out once you finally fell back asleep. He made sure that his tail wrapped around your leg.

To keep you close during the night and constantly reassure you that he was there. No matter what.

Anytime, Y/N.

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel

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bubby-cubby · 4 years

Text

Quick thing based on @ventussolder’s post w/ a before and after

Black Mesa was a maze, and amidst chaos and calamity around nearly every bend, getting lost wasn’t a hard task. This time, they had all split up to find the way forward on purpose. What was an accident was losing track of the other pair.

Gordon was very aware of the angry grumbling to his right. He was aware Bubby was muttering about him, his incompetence of keeping an eye on the others’ whereabout, and their discontent about being stuck with him. Although, they hadn’t had to stick with him, it had just been an offer.

However, they had insisted he wouldn’t be careful if he relied too much on the other two, so claimed to come along to ‘force him to work too’, as if he wasn’t doing enough already. He bit his tongue and let it slide as an excuse, but didn’t miss Bubby’s glare when he had stifled a laugh.

“With how loud the two of them are, you’d think we would have found them by now,” Bubby finally said at a normal volume, though laced with the same displeasure, “I told you we should have gone left back there. But do you ever listen to Dr. Bubby? Of course you don’t! You never think ahead. You’re never careful!” They threw their arms in the air, and Gordon felt his frustration bubble up.

“Would you rather go back? ‘Cuz we can turn right back around and-”

They cut him off. “We’re already this far in! Might as well find some place up here. But if you wouldn’t have fucked up the directions-” And then cut themself off, glancing over his shoulder him with a frown.

He didn’t catch the shift when he dropped his head in his hands with a groan. Did they not understand there weren’t any directions? That sometimes things weren’t his fault? By the time he lifted his head to counter, he caught the change in Bubby’s face: From deciphering to fear.

“Wh-”

He couldn’t get a word out before he finally noticed the high pitch beeping, noticed the sudden wave of heat, and was hit with a weight his side, before the world spun off its axis.

When his vision cleared, he noticed things. His ears were ringing, the heat was gone, and his vision was blurred.

After a few moments, he noticed new things. The ringing was fading, he couldn’t see Bubby, and he didn’t have his glasses.

A slight movement of his hand located his glasses immediately. A quick look to his side located Bubby, who was slumped forward. That is, until they realized Gordon’s gaze was on them and sat more upright, elbow propped limply on their knee. Shrapnel littered the floor around them both.

“Bubby? You good, man?” Gordon called above the din. They weren’t that far over, but he imagined they’d be having a hard time hearing as well.

He missed the way their eyes darted when he asked.

“Gordon,” they hissed instead of answering. He assumed they hadn’t heard. “I told your stupid ass to be careful.” Technically, they hadn’t. Criticize his lack of carefulness, which he would argue, sure, but hadn’t outright said it.

He missed the way their eyes scanned over him as he apologized.

“Sorry, Bub.” He knew Bubby didn’t like the nickname, but there was no reaction. The ringing was dying in his ears, but were they still affected?

He missed their quick cough. He missed the blood on their sleeve when they pulled their mouth away and angled the stain out of his vision before they spoke.

Their next words came out tentatively. “...You okay?” But the words stuck. They were grouchy, snappy, and sometimes just mean, but they knew when to care.

And still, he missed the blood pooling behind them. The blood tripping down their mouth onto their chin after Gordon started to respond.

“Yeah, yeah I’m,” he paused turning to look at Bubby. He hoped he could convey his gratitude in his smile. “I’m good.”

Then Bubby tilted their head back. Gordon was looking, now.

“That’s good...” It was quiet, a tad raspy, yet genuine.

They tilted their head back further, and he finally caught the rapid paling of their face. He caught how their expression tighten with pain, then started to fall slack with vacancy. They tilted back further, and further.

He whispered, “Bubby?”, with concern looming over his stare.

And he noticed. Bubby was already falling back when he scrambled forward.

“Oh FUCK-”

Bubby was light, thankfully. And, thankfully, the explosion had alerted Tommy and Coomer of their location.

Gordon was alert now. Tommy’s worry was apparent in his spike in anxiety, in the way he stared, and in the words he blatantly spoke. Coomer’s was quieter, because he became quieter. He’d perk right up when prompted, but otherwise silent as he took the place of carrying Bubby, staring down at them while they all search for medical supplies.

“Look Gordon, a medkit! We can use this to heal wounds quickly!” The line sounded automated, but he noticed the relief and excitement in Coomer’s expression. Bubby would be safe. Tommy bounced in delight.

After removing what shrapnel they could, Coomer unceremoniously shoved the medkit in Bubby’s mouth, which disappeared... somehow. He was about to question it, only to interrupted by Bubby rousing.

They squinted up at them, and before anyone could get a word in, brushed them all off to stand. Albeit shakily, they stood with Coomer’s assistance. The glare of the lights hid their eyes behind the glasses, but it wasn’t hard to guess he was looking them all over. It was as if they cared about the group’s wellbeing over their own.

That statement didn’t seem too out there, anymore.

Finally, they huffed, grabbing the gun offered by Tommy, and motioned them along.

“Let’s move it, suckers, so we can get the hell out of here.”

Bubby wasn’t stupid. They noticed the passing looks the group would give them, and especially the never-moving gaze of Gordon. The bastard couldn’t allow a breath of fresh air? They kept quiet and kept pressing forward, but they knew it was inevitable before they were questioned.

The questioning came when everyone had settled down for bed. Tommy first, sprawled out like a starfish, followed by Coomer, who had settle next to them contorted in an inhuman way. Extendo-arms behaved strangely in sleep.

“I know you’re awake, asshat,” they grumbled to the curled form of HEV suit and its wearer. “Get on with the lecture. I know I’m a damn hypocrite, so spit it out.”

“...I just wanted to say thank you, dude.” His voice was layered with a sleepiness, like he had fought to stay awake this long. Bubby yawned idly. “You saved my hind.”

They scoffed, “You’re a selfless moron who doesn’t pay fucking attention. Of course I had to swoop in to save you, for once.”

“It almost sounds like you care,” Gordon chuckled. Bubby fell quiet. All went quiet, for a beat, before he broke it, “You okay?”

“Of course I fucking care.” Their voice was so quiet, he almost didn’t catch how it wavered. Almost. “You’re helping us out of here... You’re helping me get out of here.”

Gordon shuffled closer to Bubby, who was purposefully not looking at him. But when he stretched out his hand to them, they took it. A silent, comforting gesture. Just as they began to drift off, they heard him mumble.

“Thanks again.”

“Shut the fuck up. Be careful next.”

“Will do, Bub.”

“Shut up.”

He doesn’t miss their smile before he drifts away.

#hlvrai #bubby #hlvrai gordon freeman #hlvrai bubby #bubby and gordon friendship hours #this is pre-betrayal and pre-benrey telling bubs that gordon is keeping them trapped w/ the trackers #ending was lowkey rushed but THEYRE FRIENDS OKAY #untiltheyarent #BUT THEN THEY ARE AGAIN SO ITS FINE #theres slight boomer if you squint #not tagging them tho #mythical writing

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danganronpa-21 · 4 years

Text

Naegiri Week Day 2: Puzzle

A short prompt today -- with no warnings! This is totally G-rated, wholesome snuggle fun for everyone. I hope you enjoy it!

_____________

Left side. Right side. On her stomach. On her back. Back to the left side, then to the right once again. Roll over onto her stomach one last time, and when that doesn’t work, she knows she better roll onto her back once more.

This was Kyoko’s near routine procedure for falling asleep. Once upon a time she’d been the kind of person who could fall asleep in two seconds flat, but age and trauma had since played a nasty trick on her. Arguably among one of the most frustrating aspects of her post-traumatic stress disorder was her undesired transformation into an insomniac. It sent her longing for the nights when she was a teenager, and could fall asleep with a snap of her fingers. Sure, it was true to say that she had often been more exhausted from her work back then, but at least it put her to sleep. These days, she would be lucky if she could amass a good seven hours.

On to her left again. She exhaled irritatedly, pulling the covers closer to her face. What was she doing wrong? It wasn’t like her mind raced, and the room had darkened. That should have been enough, or at least a little, to help her to sleep. Even the silence; it should have helped. The silence, it should have been enough as well. Enough to lull her into a peaceful sleep; where she considered nothing else but the sweet dreams that danced within her mind’s eye.

Yet it didn’t. In fact, perhaps it kept her more awake. Makoto could take the blame for at least some of that. Most of the time, the night filled with his light snoring. Given that she was already such a light sleeper, it had been something that absolutely tortured her when they first moved in together. Every night she found herself listening to his obnoxious snoring, and for a short while, it bothered her. How was she expected to sleep when his sinuses were making so much noise? Some nights it would get so bad that she’d shake him awake, begging him to switch sleeping positions to one that wouldn’t be so loud. He’d typically oblige; although she noted his displeasure at being awoken. It made night time so much more difficult for the two of them.

But somewhere down the line, the couple had been able to get past it. It took a few months, perhaps a year, but… she’d found comfort in his night-time snuffling. Eventually she found herself tuning into the peaceful rhythm of the sound, and using it as an indicator that she was safe — and so was he.

So now, that the room was deadly silent, now that she didn’t hear it, falling asleep became so much less simple. Especially because it meant that he must have been lying wide awake as well.

She rolled over to face him; only to find his back turned to her. It appeared he hadn’t wanted her to know that he was as alert as he was. “Makoto.” She whispered, “Judging by the absence of your log-sawing, I take it you are awake?”

Within seconds he rolled to meet her, and when she saw his face, she couldn’t help but notice the darkness under his eyes. Yikes. It looked like there had been a few sleepless nights for him. Certainly more than there had been for her. When he blinked, he did so sleepily. She could even see jaw move to suppress a yawn.

“Yeah,” He sighed, progressively giving into the yawn, “Unfortunately.”

She shrugged slightly; unsure of what should be said. Whether that was a product of her exhausted brain, or just general confusion, she didn’t know. All she knew revolved around the observation that she felt really, really tired. And that she really, really wanted to go to sleep.

“Should we get up?” She reached over to brush some of his fluffy hair away from his face. She smiled slightly as she did it, liking the feeling of his soft hair again her fingers. “Take a sleeping pill, perhaps?”

Makoto’s face twisted like he’d just eaten a sour candy. Though she tried not to, Kyoko found herself snickering. She rushed to cover it with her hand, hoping to hide her insensitivity.

“I always feel gross when I wake up after taking one.” He paused; his lemon-expression slightly fading. “B-But you can take one, if you want to.”

She chuckled softly once again. Even when he expressed an opinion, he still desperately wanted to be considerate of her own. It was little things like that that made her feel that she was dating the world’s most adorable man.

“I am fine, thank you. I do not care for them much, either.”

A grin tugged at the corners of Makoto’s lips, but he didn’t seem willing to let it fully show. Or perhaps, his sleepiness prevented it from blooming.

“Okay…”

The words struck silence between the two of them for a couple of seconds; the pair of lovers doing little else other than staring into each other’s eyes. Then, rolling over onto his back, Makoto groaned suddenly.

“When did sleeping become such a puzzle?” He complained, throwing his arms into the air dramatically. They came crashing down just as quickly as they went up, and for a moment she worried she might get hit with them.

To this, Kyoko could only shrug. “I don’t think I could tell you. I used to be good at it.”

The luckster pouted, dissatisfied with his girlfriend’s answer. He couldn’t help but push a hand through his hair. He tended to do it when he felt stressed, but Kyoko couldn’t deny that she found it sort of attractive. Jeez, even when he was sleep-deprived, she found him to be undeniably arresting. Once upon a time, she might’ve been ashamed of that, but now she could embrace it. She didn’t hesitate to grin slightly at him when the act caught her eye.

“Is it almost like… there’s a piece of a puzzle missing?”

The words sent his eyes darting over to her, almost as if she said something profound. She could see the crease in his brow, and assumed that he wanted to signal her to go on. Clearly, the words had struck some kind of chord with him.

“Falling asleep these days, does it not feel as if we have almost every proper element but… something?” She supplied, arching her eyebrow. Somehow, she struggled to convey her own thoughts, though she knew them to be sensical. Another issue with the sleep-deprived mind, she thought. “If you think about it, theoretically, we have every piece of our sleeping puzzle. The room is dark, and quiet, and we know we’re safe. The locks have been checked three times, and we’ve read our books, and climbed into bed together. We even had some tea before bed. There is virtually no reason for us to be awake right now, yet here we are.”

“Like something’s wrong, but nothing’s here. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Precisely.”

Sighing, she reached up to rub at her eyes. The lids on them were heavy, and for a moment she prayed for them to close. But that moment just as soon passed, for she realized that she didn’t want to leave Makoto awake alone. If they had to be awake, she supposed she could appreciate that they were awake together. Being oh so alert while her partner was dead asleep was always more of a challenge.

“Maybe we need to go see that psychologist again…”

Ugh, no. Hard pass on Kyoko’s behalf. A couple weeks prior, the couple had had a psychologist recommended to them by Kanon Nakajima. A doctor Ogura Osamu. According to Kanon, he was supposed to be a highly revered psychologist for those struggling with a variety of conditions. Some patients swore he even had a magic touch when it came to dealing with PTSD. However, when Kyoko stepped into his office, she found him to be nothing like what she expected. As far as she was concerned, this Doctor Ogura was nothing more than a kook with clipboard. The whole process of him trying to initiate the treatments she “needed” for her mind felt uncomfortable and invasive. Even after giving it a couple of appointments to settle, Kyoko reached the conclusion that he wasn’t for her. The thought of having him try to solve her insomnia problem would be like handing the “sleep puzzle” to a circus monkey. No thank you. Makoto could go on his own if he wanted to.

“I don’t think we have to.” Kyoko pressured gently, wriggling her way closer to her husband. Though she knew it probably wouldn’t help, she craved the feeling of his body close to hers. Snuggling up to her lover certainly couldn’t hurt, could it? She wriggled across the bed for a moment, until she decided she was finally close enough. Then, giggling to herself, she nuzzled her face against his neck. He didn’t even have to meet her eyes to let her know that heat rushed to his cheeks. “We can look for some online remedies… or ask our friends what they do.”

He shook his head slightly, wrapping his arm around her to pull her close. She accepted without hesitation, wondering if maybe this really was what she needed to calm down. Safety, darkness, silence, and comfort. It seemed simple enough.

“I still think we should seek professional help.”

Her eyes rolled. “Oh, probably…” She hummed, “But for now, maybe let’s just try to finish the puzzle in some other way.”

His eyes took their turn to roll around, but amusement and satisfaction dripped through his voice when he spoke. “Let me guess, you want to sort this out with a good old fashioned cuddle?”

A short, suppressed chuckle escaped from Kyoko’s throat, and she snuggled in closer. Hearing the cheerfulness in his voice, she pressed a gentle kiss on his neck.

“How did you know?”

His shoulders shrugged softly, and he pressed his own kiss to the top of her head. “Just a lucky guess.”

#Naegiri2019 #Naegiri #Danganronpa #Thh #kyoko kirigiri #makoto naegi #kyouko kirigiri #kirigiri kyoko #naegi makoto #DR1 #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #fluff #fanfiction

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imagine-darksiders · 5 years

Note

How bout a lil scenario with the horsemen getting up at night instead of their s/o to calm their fussing child?

Strife: It wasmostly upon his insistence that you had the baby’s cot in your bedroom. Youknew Strife had some underlying separation anxiety when it came to you, but didn’t think it would extend to your one-year old daughter as well. She wasn’t even his, but apparently that mattered little to the sharpshooting horseman.

It was around midnight when the ambulance drove past, sirens blaring and bright, blue lights piercing the slight gap you’d left between yourcurtains. While it hadn’t woken you up, the same could not be said for your daughter,nor the horseman laying in bed beside you. At the first sound of her distressed whimper, Strife’s eyes snap open, glowing vivid yellow in the pitch-black and he lifts his head to glance across the room, staring attentively at his newcharge’s cot.

In another moment, he’s skilfullyextracted himself from the duvet and slipped out of bed, almost tripping over his armour scattered about on the floor as he pads softly towards the baby, leaning over the side and grinning down at her. “Hey there, small fry,” he coos, using the affectionate nickname he learned from one of your friends, “That Earthautomobile woke you up too, huh?”

In response, she screws up her face to convey immense displeasure.

“Yeah, I thought it might’ve,” he murmurs.

Another hum that usually precedes a crying fit works its way out of her mouth and behind him, you roll over, beginning to stir. Quick as a flash, Strife reaches into the cot and gathers the baby up into his arms, blanket and all.

This is a moment in his life he hadn’t realised he would come to cherish so much. He’s a horseman of the apocalypse, playing life fast and loose. He likes guns, hunting demons, galloping at full tilt across a grassy plainwith you clinging to his back and whooping delightedly at the dangerous speeds.And now, apparently, he likes the feeling of holding your child in his arms too.So much for his reputation.

“Hey now,” he murmurs, “No crying, Y/n’s trying to sleep.”

He’d never had to exercise such gentility with any creature before, even the humans at the maker tree hadn’t been this fragile. Still, tosee him interact with a human infant, one would think he’d been around childrenall his life. With a hand on her back and the other supporting her rump, the horseman copies what he’s seen you do a hundred times. He wanders aimlessly around the bedroom, alternating between stroking her back and bouncing her gently on his palm. ‘This would be so much easier if I was still Jones,’ helaments. If ‘Jones’ dropped a baby, it wouldn’t have as far to fall. If she’s dropped by a horseman who exceeds seven feet however….Strife stops that train of thought it its tracks, shuddering. It took a lot of assurance from you before he trusted himself with holding something so precious.

Tiny fingers stretch up determinedly to feel the stubble growing on his chin and he tucks it in to look down at her, his luminous, yelloweyes softening under her contented gaze.

Even long after she falls asleep against his chest, the horseman cradles her to him, only putting her back into her cot when you awake and tell him to.

War: Crying - The sound he’d come to dread – not because he finds it irksome – but because his mind immediately jumps to the worst possible scenario. Most interactions he’s hadwith humans has led him to believe that when they cry, they’re either afraid or they’re in pain. Both of these concepts with regards to the baby human down the hall send him into a near frenzy and it’s all he can do to restrain himself from tearing through your walls to get to them faster.

“The baby’s fine, War,” you mumble into your pillow as he heaves himself up from the bed and the springs give an audible sigh, relievedat the loss of his immense girth. You know there’s little point in trying to convince him that; Yes, sometimes babies do wake up and cry during the night, and typically return to sleep after ten minutes or so. However, nothing short of a nuclear explosion could stop the overprotective horseman from checking the entire house for demons. So, letting out a heavy sigh, you roll over and let him get on with it.

A low rumble makes its way up his throat as he enters the darkened room just across the hall, dazzling blue eyes sweeping left and right for any sign of an intruder. Once he’s satisfied that the vicinity is clear, he tromps over to the baby’s cot, looming over it like a monumental juggernaut, snowy-white eyebrows furrowed in their typical fashion.

And as per usual, the baby inside takes one look at his glowering, grim visage and immediately stops crying, it’s face splitting into a clumsy grin and it raises its arms into the air towards him.

Personally, War would love to know at what point he stopped being intimidating to human younglings and started to become amusing.

With a gruff sigh, he drops a hand into the cot and gently works his armoured fingers underneath the baby, scooping it far too easily up into his gauntlet, marvelling that such a tiny thing can fit in the palm of his hand. Sometimes, a gruesome thought creeps up on him and he realises that it would take no more than a mere flex to end the precious life-force.

The moment he lifts it up to his face, the baby’s arm flies out and it grasps a fistful of his white-blonde hair, tugging on it whilst staring up into his eyes, transfixed by the unusual, otherworldly shine.

After some time spent simply observing each other under the glow of the nightlight, the babystarts to squirm, kicking out with its stubby legs and gurgling noisily.

It’s strong. Well, as strong as a human can be in it’s first year of life, and War finds his lips trying to lift in a fond smile. He quickly schools his face back to its neutral expression though and instead, gives the baby an accusing glare, informing it, “You are too small,” as if it’s the baby’s fault that it’s so helpless.

Unexpectedly, it gives another hard kick and lets go of his hair, only to tip forward and clumsily curls its fingers around the tip of hisnose.

Consequentially, the horseman freezes, his eyes slowly growing wide.

Suddenly mesmerised, it’s his turn to watch as it gurgles and croons, stroking down his nose to pat his upper lip and let out a happy squeak as he peels them back to show off his sharpened canines. War huffs a gust of air from his nose, amused at the little human’s courage.

Your genes, no doubt.

Fury: “The baby’s crying.”

Fury rolls over, untangling herself from your arms to grab a pillow and stuff it over her head, only to receive a sharp jab in the back.

“Fury, the baby’s crying,” you repeat groggily, a little louder, “Can you go check on him?”

Grumbling into the mattress, she replies, “Why should I have to go?”

“Because I’ve been the past seven times.”

“Well, you made it.”

For her trouble, she earns herself an almighty kick to her back. You stubbornly keep the pressure up, pressing your feet into her spineand slowly managing to slide her towards the edge of the bed. Valiantly, she digs her heels in, but can’t find any purchase and before long, she lets out a loud snarl and relents. “Ugh, very well!” And with that, she throws the covers off and swings her legs out, muttering grumpilyabout giving the baby ‘something toreally cry about.’

You’ve learnt by now that with Fury, you can’t take everything she says too seriously. She’s gruff, certainly. But you’re all too aware that when your baby is with her, it becomes the safest baby in the universe, and she’d nomore harm him than she would harm you. The horseman hadn’t meant to fall in love with a human, much less a pregnant human in the maker’s tree, but after you all went through the reflecting pool and she helped you deliver the tiny thing, she hadn’t really been able to avoidit.

Fury doesn’t know who the father is, you’ve never really told her. However, you did say that the baby looked nothing like him, and youseemed rather glad about it, so she didn’t ask.

As soon as she leaves the room and is no longer under your gaze, her face morphs from agitated to worried in a matter of seconds, and if her feet carried her a little bit quicker towards the nursery, she would later deny it.

Pushing open the little door and entering, she immediately spots the source of all the crying.

Your son – ‘Our son,’ she reminds herself – has stood up in the cot and is clinging to the frame, his legs quivering with the effort of keepinghimself upright. Large, round eyes peer up at her as she approaches, though his cries only quiet down somewhat whereas the tears continue to stream ceaselessly down his rosy cheeks.

“What’s wrong with you this time?” she sighs, feigning boredom whilst checking behind the door, then striding over to the wardrobe andthrowing it open, moving several hanging clothes aside to see if anyone has concealed themselves right at the back. All the while, the child watches her curiously until she finishes doing a sweep and eventually turns her attention onto him just in time to see him plonk back down onto his blanket.

Shaking her head, she stubbornly forces the amused smirk off her face and stalks over to him. “You are perhaps the most vocal human I’ve ever known, crying and complaining about nothing. Honestly, you’re worse than the Watche-... “ Fury hesitates, swallowing thickly as he cocks his head, wondering why she suddenly froze above his cot, her grip on the rail tightening until her knuckles turn even paler. “- Worse than Envy, I mean...” she corrects herself after a moment too long of silence.

Refocusing on the child, Fury realises that he’s tipped his head down and is gazing at her feet through the bars. Cocking an eyebrow, sheglances down, following his line of sight and lets out a subdued chuckle when she sees the cause of all his fuss.

“Ah, and therein lies the problem.”

Resting just a few inches to her right is a tiny, stuffed horse. Its coat is black as night, rendering it almost lost in the darkness of the nursery. There’s also a tail and mane that had once been stark white, but following an incident with a blue sock in the washing machine, are now a soft, baby blue.

Fury had wanted to laugh and weep at the irony, even more so when the horse became your baby’s favoured toy.

“Is this what you’re after?” she asks needlessly, bending down to retrieve the toy and holding it over the cot. In seconds, his eyes light up and he coos warmly, lifting one, chubby arm into the air and making a grabbing motion with his hand.

Sharp, pale eyes softening ever so slightly, Fury allows a thumb to stroke gently over the horse’s mane before she blinks, remembering herselfand passing the toy down to the baby, who takes it off her and crushes it against his chest.

At last, Fury’s lips twitch into a genuine smile and she leaves it there, too distracted by the sight before her.

Filled with an abrupt swell of affection, she reaches down and places a hand gently on top of the child’s head, smoothing his hair back and guiding him til he’s lying on his back again with the horse on his chest. Then, pulling the blanket up to cover him, Fury takes a second to simply remain leaned over the cot, eyes locked in the gaze of the most innocent life she’d ever beheld.

“Who gave you permission to touch this heart of mine?” she breathes, “Hmm?”

She only returned to your shared bedroom much later, once your son had finally dropped off to sleep.

Death: The eldest horseman doesn’t sleep. Never has, likely never will. That isn’t to say he won’t spend long nights laying on his back and gazing up at the glow in the dark stars on your ceiling whilst you sleep peacefully beside him.

Peaceful….Death’s life has been anything but.

Then, along came a human and a baby to offer him a port in the storm and just like that, he’d known a modicum of peace.

Although not tonight, evidently. He knew the baby was about to cry even before the sound reached his ears, a long-forgotten instinct buried deep in his psyche that hadn’t surfaced since his younger siblings left their own stages of infancy.

Of course, no sooner had the sound slipped underneath the bedroom door, you lift your head from the pillow, taking in a deep breath and mumbling, “M’on it…”

Your attempts to roll out of bed are thwarted however by the horseman, who wraps his fingers over your shoulder and pushes you back down.

“You need to rest,” he rumbles softly, “I’ll see to it.”

Without waiting for you to offer a groggy argument, he rises from the bed and as soon as he vacates his pillow, a large, black mass offeathers flutters down off the headboard and lands on the soft surface.

“Dust,” he sighs, “Don’t get too comfortable, I’ll be returning shortly.”

Absently, you stretch an arm across the bed and scratch a few fingers over the crow’s chest. “Hmm, hey boy,” you mumble. The crow shootsDeath an insufferably smug look, as if to say, ‘My bed now,’ and settles himself down on the pillow, warbling gently at the attention you’re giving him.

Death, meanwhile, simply harrumphs, spinning on his heel and slipping quietly from the room, making a bee line for the little door adjacentto your own. Quiet as a ghost, he pushes it open and steps inside, raising a hand to conjure a ball of light only to pause when he remembers that humans invented a nifty little thing called ‘electricity.’ Sighing, he lowers his hand andinstead flips the switch on a lamp as he passes, bathing the room in a soft, pink glow.

The sound of crying becomes more urgent, so he wastes no more time in prowling up to the cot. Stopping beside it, he gazes down at thetiny life nestled within a pile of blankets.

Eyes golden and orange as wildfires meet the watery blue of a tiny, human girl, barely out of her first year of life and already too curious for her own good, just like you – a fact that unsettles Death somewhat. He has a hard-enough time keeping you out of danger that seemed to consistently find you. And now, with a baby thrown into the mix, his job has just gotten a whole lot more complicated. Privately, Death dreads her learning how to walk, or generally moving at any speed faster than a crawl where he can’t simply snatch her off the ground and out of trouble.

An incomprehensible murmur draws his attention back to the baby and when he looks, he realises she still hasn’t moved. Forever and a day the horseman would wonder why she calms down when he’s in the room. Death isn’texactly a calming influence. She doesn’t seem to be afraid of him, incredibly. Maybe she’s curious about his mask, wondering if its actually his real face. Or she could be curious as to why this strange, cold-skinned man had suddenly started to appear in her life in the place of her other parent, the one who’ddisappeared one day without any warning. Then again, perhaps she – like several other children he’s met in his time – can sense that, when it comes to babies, Death is something of a soft touch.

Muttering a soft apology for the temperature of his hands, the horseman scoops her up, ensuring he brings the blanket along too, and holds her to his chest.

‘She used to love hearing my partner’s heartbeat,’ you told him when you first introduced him to her, ‘It would send her right off to sleep.’

For the first time, suddenly Death knew the sting of inadequacy. No heart beats in his chest, but he’d soon learned of other ways tosoothe a human infant. Her chubby fingers latch onto his cowl and hold fast as he uses the back of his knuckles to rub carefully up and down her fragile back.

It’s been untold millennia, and he’d forgotten how much he missed this.

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #imagine darksiders #death #darksiders 3 #war #fury #strife #reader #babies!!#fluff

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deansmyapplepie · 6 years

Text

Saving People

Pairing: None

Tags: trigger warning, depression, mention of suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 1,613

A/N: This wasn’t an easy one to write. It really hit close to home for me, but it certainly helped elevate my mental state. I hope it does the same for any of you out there currently going through a tough time. Always keep fighting. <3

(Gif not mine)

"What the hell were you thinking?" Dean yelled. You threw your machete into the trunk of the Impala.

"I did what I had to do," you snapped. Dean grabbed you roughly and spun you around. "Let go of me!"

"You threw yourself in front of a ghoul-pire, Y/N!" You pried yourself from his grasp.

"To save you! And if you hadn't noticed, it worked! You're still here, aren't you?" His jaw clenched with displeasure. "And don't act all high and mighty, because you know damn well you would have done the same for me. This is what we do, right? Save people?"

"That wasn't a rescue," Dean snarled, "it was a suicide mission." You looked at him seriously, not backing down.

"And I would do it all over again." He growled in frustration.

"Look, I don't know what's been going on in your head lately, but you need to get your ass in gear! You've been reckless, and it's gonna get someone hurt. Hell, it could get you killed!"

"That's fine by me," you retorted, shattering the quiet of the surrounding vicinity. "Put me out of my fucking misery." Dean's face grew troubled, and you turned your gaze downwards, suddenly unable to meet his eyes anymore.

"Y/N..." The pity soaking your name when he said it made your stomach clench with regret.

"Come on," you muttered. "Let's go." You climbed into the car, leaving no room for argument. After a few moments, Dean took his place in the driver's seat. You threw a sideways glance at him so he wouldn't catch you looking, and immediately felt guilty. Dean Winchester, the man who always had a sarcastic remark for everything, was speechless. He took in a breath as if he was about to say something, and your heart skipped a beat with nervous anticipation. You were expecting an, "it gets better," or perhaps even an, "I'm here for you," but Dean surprised you. With a shake of his head, he only remained silent. Then came the odd mix of emotions; relief that you wouldn't have to go through the round of twenty questions, the embarrassment that you had conveyed your real thoughts in the first place, and a little bit of hurt that Dean apparently didn't care for you enough to at least offer to talk about it. You mentally kicked yourself. Of course, he hadn't said anything. You'd made it pretty clear you didn't want to talk about it.

The keys jingled slightly in the ignition as the engine roared to life, and the two of you sped off into the night. In truth, it wasn't that you didn't want to talk about it at all. It was that you didn't want to burden anyone else with it. Your issues were yours, and yours alone. It wasn't fair to put them on anyone else. You doubted there was much Dean could do to help you, anyway. And although you had never bothered to look into it, you already knew what you were dealing with. It was something that, unfortunately, ran in your family. You had watched it eat away at your loved ones, and you had seen the effects it had on those around you. You could feel the same cold hollowness forming that had been described to you many times before. It was an ache deep in your chest that left you feeling utterly numb to everything. You knew exactly what this was. The word, however, was something you never dared to say out loud. If you didn't acknowledge it, maybe it would just go away, as if it was never even an issue. It was only a word, but you knew better than anyone just how much power a single word could hold. If you so much as whispered it, every aspect of your life would change. It would mean the thoughts that always haunted you, making you second guess yourself at every waking moment, would become real. It would mean Sam and Dean's piteous expressions would regularly follow you around the bunker. You would be treated as a bomb that may explode at any given moment. And that wasn't something you could take. In all the time you had spent with the Winchesters, they had never once acted as if you were fragile, or broken. But then, you had also never alluded to the demons plaguing your mind, and obliterating what little positivity you still had towards yourself.

The second Dean put the car in park, you fled to your room before he could say anything. You made a beeline past Sam through the library, ignoring his startled, if not mildly confused, expression. Your door closed with a click, and you flicked on the lights. Usually, your bedroom would have put you at ease, but not this time. How Dean reacted earlier kept replaying in your mind. You knew what you were thinking wasn't fair to him, but still, you couldn't help but wonder if he cared about you at all. But no matter how much you didn't like it, he was right. You were far too reckless lately, and if that got one of the brothers killed, you wouldn't ever be able to forgive yourself. Tears began to flow freely as you laid down. You were so sick and tired of feeling empty all the time. All you wanted was for someone to understand, but you weren't sure anyone could. A silent sob wracked your body, and you curled inwards on yourself. Someone knocked softly on your door, and you stood, frantically wiping the tears from your cheeks. When you opened the door a crack, you were surprised to see none other than Dean Winchester looking down at you.

"Yeah?" you croaked, cursing yourself for how weak you sounded. He frowned, squinting at your eyes.

"You've been crying," he pointed out. You sighed and broke your gaze with him. This man wasn't fooled by anything. "Can I come in?" Reluctantly, you stood aside, admitting him to your room. Once he entered, you shut the door once more and crossed your arms over your chest.

"What's up?" you asked.

"I wanted to talk to you about earlier." The same embarrassment and guilt began to build up in your chest again.

"Dean, I-" he shook his head.

"Just let me finish. I don't know for sure what's going on in that head of yours, but what you said tonight gave me a pretty good idea."

"I'm fine," you lied quietly. The expression Dean gave you told you he saw right through you.

"Y/N, it's okay to not be okay. Look, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. But I just wanted you to know that I'll always listen if you need to vent, or get something off your chest, or be not fine. Now, I'm not gonna give you any of that 'it gets easier crap,' okay, because it doesn't." Dean placed his hands on your shoulders, and you looked up at him. "It never gets easier, Y/N. You get stronger." Your lip began to tremble, and tears blurred your vision.

"I don't know if I can," you whispered. He chucked you under the chin.

"'Course you can," he reassured. "You're one of the strongest women I know." You shook your head at his compliment.

"I don't feel strong." Dean pulled you close for a hug.

"And that's okay. We can't all be strong all the time." He sat down on your bed, patting the comforter. You laughed at how he made himself at home like he was in his own room. "I'm staying with you tonight, okay?" Despite the questioning tone at the end of the sentence, you knew it wasn't a question. Not that you minded. Honestly, you had been dreading being alone for the whole night. Dean switched off all lights except one and got under the blankets next to you. He scooted closer to you and combed his fingers through your hair. "You okay, sweetheart?" he asked softly. Just like that, at his simple signs of affection, everything you had worked so hard to hold together fell apart.

"Dean, it feels like the world is crushing me all the time," you sobbed. "I feel so alone."

"Hey," he whispered. He pulled you close to his chest, stroking your head comfortingly. "You're not alone, all right? You got me and Sam. Always have, and always will." You felt bad for staining his shirt with tears, but you knew that was probably the furthest thing from his mind. You sniffled.

"I don't know what to do." Dean angled your chin upward so you would have to look at him.

"You keep fighting," he asserted. "And when it gets too hard to keep going by yourself, you lean on me. And Sam. You let us help you fight this because no matter how alone you feel, you aren't. Y/N, you're family. And family doesn't give up on each other. So when you feel like the weight is crushing you, you come to Sam and me, all right? Because this world is too damn heavy to hold up on your own, and he and I will always help take some of that weight off your shoulders." Nodding, you gave him a tearful smile and pressed yourself against his chest again for another hug. Dean kissed the top of your head. "We love you, sweetheart."

"I love you too, Dean." He wrapped his arms around you securely, which was incredibly comforting.

Dean held you like that until you finally fell asleep. And when you did, he still stayed. Because he meant every single word he said.

You weren't alone.

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#Supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #one shot #Supernatural One Shot #One Shot Fanfiction #Fanfiction #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Reader #Original Female Character #Depressed!Reader #Depressed!Original Female Character #Depression

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hopeishappinessff · 6 years

Text

Holding Onto Hope: Chapter 2

Hope

I stayed stock still on my bed, doing everything that I could possibly think of to busy myself rather than focus any more than I already had in the stairwell on Benny or Taylor. Destani, being the little fast tail that she was, made it a point to put on quite the show for the boys while searching for her phone. The thing was right there in her purse, which was on the corner of her bed beside her, yet she searched frantically all over her half of the room for it as if she wasn’t already well aware of where it was.

“Damn, I can’t find this thing anywhere.” She said, halting her frantic search and standing beside her bed, directly beside her purse, running her hand over the top of her muddled curls. I rolled my eyes at her antics and decided that if these guys were going to leave as quickly as I wanted them to, I should probably point her in the obvious direction of her phone. Sliding off the edge of my bed, I eased forward to reach for her purse and pulled her phone out once I had it in my grasp, tossing it over to the center of her bed.

She turned to peer down at it as it landed with a soft thud on her bare mattress and with the cutest little giggle, she turned to face me “Thanks Sy… where was it?”

I glared at her for a moment, thinking to myself how well I was going to go off on her as soon as these guys left “It was in your purse Destani… right there on the corner of your bed.”

“Oh, I swear if you weren’t my bestfriend I would be so lost sometimes.” They’re about to leave Sy’Diyah… they’re about to leave and she’ll stop this nonsense as soon as they’re gone.

She handed her phone over to Taylor and smirked, resting her hand against her hip and biting down on her bottom lip with lust glimmering in her eyes. As I sat there observing her, I was starting to find it more and more difficult to not call her out on her phony act. I kept my arms crossed over my chest and one leg crossed naturally over the other, shaking it frenziedly from utter irritation. I could feel a pair of overly immersed eyes gazing in my direction and though I didn’t want to look up to find out exactly where this piercing glare was coming from, I couldn’t help myself and I slowly raised my gaze anyway.

There, over beside our wide-open door, stood Benny… staring right at me with a smirk tugging at his handsome lips. He gave me a knowing look, as if to say he understood exactly how I was feeling at this very moment. His friend was just as wrapped up in talking to Destani as she was with him and just watching the two of them laughing and giggling in each other’s faces must have been just as annoying for him as it was for me. We both diverted our attention to the two flirting culprits, locked gazes once again, then smiled at each other mutely conveying our displeasure.

“So, are you two roommates or what?” Destani inquired, sliding her phone back into her purse as Taylor slipped his back into his pocket.

“Nah, I got a roommate… some dude named Jonah. I don’t know what’s up with Benny, but his roommate is a no show so far.” Taylor explained, moving over toward Benny and the door.

“Yeah, our coach told me dude’s not showing until sometime later this week, so it’s just me right now.” Benny explained. I took very little interest in their small banter and I chose, instead, to busy myself with sliding my bags off my bed and onto the floor so that I could make the bed up.

“Well, um… I guess we’ll talk to you guys later then. Maybe ya’ll can show us around the campus, you know.” Destani said, smiling and combing a few strands of her hair behind her right ear.

“Yeah definitely. Aye, as a matter of fact if ya’ll ain’t doing nothing later on tonight, hit me up and we can at least take a quick glimpse at the campus.” Taylor suggested, licking his plump rosy lips to emphasize the smirk on his face.

Destani’s beam seemed to widen as she nodded her head in accord “Yeah… yeah, we can do that.”

At that point, I went ahead and tuned the two of them out completely just as I got my last bag off my bed and picked up the plastic carrier carrying my new comforter. I could feel someone’s presence just to the right of me and I quickly caught the light and airy aroma of Boss, an intoxicating cologne that I was used to smelling only when Chris was around. I swung my head around, excited just from the memory of his smell, only to be disheartened by the sight of Benny.

“Uh, you know… I was wondering, I’m not tryna come on too strong or anything, but do you… think we could exchange numbers as well?” He asked, raising his brows and biting down on the corner of his bottom lip hesitantly. I stared at him for a second, considering exactly how I could say no without hurting his feelings “Um, Benny… I don’t… I mean, I really wouldn’t mind, but… I kind of have a boyfriend.”

His head jerked back slightly in surprise and his lips shaped into a small ‘o’, because clearly he’d just been caught off guard by my response “Oh, I’m sorry… I had no idea. I ain’t mean to, you know…”

I smiled cordially and shook my head “It’s okay. I mean, I would exchange with you, but my boyfriend… he’s a little…” I tilted my head to one side thoughtfully, twisting my lips as I considered the appropriate term to describe Chris “…Overprotective.” “Yeah, I mean I understand that. I don’t even blame him for being that way with such a beautiful girl.”

I smiled and sighed… this guy was really working in the charm. With no intention of allowing him to stand there any longer, throwing so much of this alluring charisma at me, I slowly eased around him and made my way over toward the door, thanking him for his compliment as I went. He trailed along behind me to his and Taylor’s exit, chuckling and rubbing nervously at the back of his neck “You know, I hope I ain’t make you uncomfortable or anything. Like I said, I ain’t mean to come on too strong, really. I just, you know… ain’t know.”

“It’s okay, I mean how were you supposed to know that without me telling you?” I asked as I turned to face him with my hands crossed tight over my chest.

He stared at me with his bottom lip tucked into his mouth then chuckled and nodded “Yeah, I guess you right. But I still gotta apologize though… I really was in the wrong for that.”

I could hear both Destani and Taylor shuffling toward the door behind Benny and I, and I turned to face them and frowned deeply at the sight of her giggling in his face like an inexperienced school girl who had yet to be exposed to a joke.

“Well, like I said… hopefully we can meet up with the two of you later.” She spoke in a blustery tone, as if she were completely out of breath because of her simple laughter.

“I don’t know about my dude Ben here, but I know I’ll be looking forward to that. And, it’s… Sy’Diyah, right?” Taylor asked, stopping a few feet away from me with a flirtatious smirk on his face, openly dragging his eyes over the length of my body, “It was nice to meet you. We’ll see ya’ll later, aiight.” I stood just beside the door as they marched out and held onto the knob, preparing to slam the door shut and swing around with vengeance to reprimand Destani.

“Damn, these niggas at this fucking school are no got damn joke girl!” She exclaimed, propping her elbow up on my shoulder as if it were any old flat surface for her to rest on. I immediately shrugged her off me and closed the door, turning to glare at her through squinted and rage infested orbs.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She asked.

“We,” I stomped off past her, brushing roughly against her shoulder as I did so, “Need to talk.”

Chris

I am tired. No, scratch that… I’m fucking exhausted right now and this nigga just won’t get the fucking hint and take a break. My roommate Trent and I have both been up, working our asses off since about six thirty this morning and I would expect the nigga to be just as worn out as I, but no… he wanna take his ass in the living room of our apartment style dorm to make the most noise he can with as many people that’s willing to make noise at this hour with him.

I been tossing and turning for the past twenty minutes and in all honestly, I’m ‘bout two and a half seconds from freaking the fuck out and setting off on a mission to break this lil fucking shindig up. Since I been here at Syracuse, I been taking more anger management courses for my supposed ‘over aggressive behavior on the court’ and my coach and the head of the athletic department have even threatened to prescribe me with a dose of lithium and bupropion, which are supposed to be mood stabilizers… specifically for people with bipolar disorder. I nearly lost my entire mind when my coach broke the news to me that he believed me to be bipolar and I was seconds away from living up to his opinion and going super saiyan on his ass when he gave me the choices of either taking the medicine, going to the classes, or riding the bench for the first three games if I didn’t want to cooperate. Of course I went with the classes, but not without a light argument first.

With a loud and exasperated huff, I turned my boxer clad body over onto my back, sighing and briefly enjoying the cool sensation of my sheets against my bare back. Everything about this bed was incredibly comfortable, from the sheets to the memory foam that formed the actual mattress itself… it was a bed fit for a king, which was apparently what the coaches believed we all deserved as some of not only the best college basketball players on the East coast, but in the Nation as well. Here, at Syracuse, the athletes were treated with the upmost respect and just about everyone on the fucking campus catered to all of us, including the school itself. For example, if I decided I wanted take a trip back home to Virginia to see my son for a weekend, it was the school’s job to supply the first class plane ticket along with a designated individual on the other end to pick my ass up. Now, I would be damned if I chose to take a three-game seater rather than taking anger management classes and hitting the court to play my ass off… the entire campus catered to each of us, how much better could this shit get?

Though I would have loved to enjoy every inch of my memory foam in a drunken slumber of sleep, I couldn’t seem to do that successfully with my bitch ass roommate being such a fucking obnoxious ass in the other room. I shut my eyes for a moment and used the count to twenty method that my therapist created just for me, seeing as counting as far as ten did absolutely nothing for my irritation. After I reached about thirty-one and realized I was more pissed off than before I started the count, I sat up and slid my body over to the edge of my bed. Standing up at my full six-foot two stature, I sighed and walked around my bed toward the door and glanced back at the bright neon green 2:03 glaring at me from the alarm clock on my nightstand. ‘This nigga cannot be fucking serious,’ I thought to myself, ‘two in the got damn morning, drill at six-thirty sharp, and he still in here fucking around.’

I wasted no time snatching the bedroom door open, forming my eyes into deadly slits as I scoped the room for Trent and the other culprits responsible for keeping me from that beautiful thing called sleep that I desperately craved. Spotting the nigga sprawled out on the couch across from the TV with one bitch straddling his lap, one sitting up on the arm of the couch, two niggas over at the four-person dining table playing cards, and two bitches with them… I scoffed and took a step out into the room.

“Chriiiiiiiissss… my nigggggaaaaaa. What’s good bro? Why you ain’t in here catching up on some fun?” He asked and from the way he annoyingly slurred my name, I could tell the nigga was pretty fucked up.

“Come in here nigga… come, I got you one. I called her for you. Come get her, ‘cause she a fiesty lil thing.” He muttered in a jumbled mess that sounded like pure shit to my ears. I glanced over at the girl sitting up on the arm of the couch beside him and didn’t even bother to smile at her as she smirked and looked me up and down… my mind was set that everyone in this room was my enemy at this point and I would only give them about one minute to get the fuck out.

“Nah Trent, man we got drills at six-thirty on the dot. I think it’s time for your company to go.” I spoke, surprisingly, calm and though I could feel anger boiling in the pit of my stomach, I was quite taken aback by just how chill I managed to keep myself.

“Chriiiiiiissssss, no, no, nooooo dude. The bitches, the pussy… it’s for you. For us. The school year is about to start and we ain’t had no fun yet. Come get your fun nigga… she sitting right here.” He continued to slur as he reached back and grabbed a hold of the girl’s thigh, causing her to giggle and lick her lips at me, and me to roll my eyes and sigh.

“Trent, please man… I don’t wanna say this shit again. Let your company go and we can celebrate another night.” Hell nah I wasn’t planning on celebrating shit any other night with this nigga, but if that’s what it took to get him to abide by what I was asking, then hell… let the lie ooze from my lips like water. He only laughed in my face though… he laughed and reached for the bottle of bud light sitting on the edge of the coffee table. The bottle of bud light… with a sigh, I calmly walked over to the small kitchen on the opposite side of the living room and just as I suspected, there were two boxes of bud light chilling on one of the counters. I glanced through the opening behind the sink into the living room and after noticing everyone minding their own business, paying no attention to little ole me, I grabbed one of the entire cases of booze and marched back out into the living room.

Without so much as a warning, I stopped in the middle of the room, took one last look around then lifted the box high with one hand and slammed it smack dab onto the hardwood floor. The glass bottles shattered all over the floor beneath my Nike socked feet and the intoxicating beverage from each glass bottle splattered onto the floor, but I really ain’t give two shits. The clatter instantly got Trent and his two broads to shut up and look up at me and the niggas and bitches at the table beside me did the same.

“Now, Imma say this shit one more fucking time… you two,” I spoke menacingly low as I pointed at the girls on the couch with Trent, “And all of you,” I said, again pointing back at the table’s occupants, “Really need to get the fuck out and you need to do it now. I don’t know why you ain’t listen when I said it politely five minutes ago when I walked out here, but I’m really not playing no more… leave.”

With that, I peered around the room to make sure these stupid asses weren’t simply staring at me like I was joking. They weren’t and for that, I was thankful… I was really not in the mood to be whooping some hard-headed niggas asses tonight nor did I feel like wasting my energy cussing some bitches out. I continued to stand there, watching them quietly file out the designated exit and once they were out the door, I slammed it shut and turned to Trent who was already staring at me cautiously “Make sure you clean this shit up before you hit the sack, aiight… bro.”

I gave him no time to respond… I’d already stepped right over the mess on the floor and I was well on my way back to my room. I shut the door behind myself, reached down to pull my socks off, and sighed… I was surprised to find that I even had the energy to put on such a show, but I did and now I was even more tired than I was when I initially climbed out my luxurious bed.

I stopped just beside my bed with my back facing it and fell, with an exaggerated plop, on the soft body suctioning mattress. I licked my lips and stuck my tongue out, toying with the piercing I’d gotten redone at the beginning of the summer as I stared at the blank white and depressing wall across from me. I wanted to put up some sort of artwork to liven it up a bit, but I didn’t plan on staying in this dorm with ole fuck boy much longer so I didn’t even see a reason to bother.

Just as I dropped my eyes down to a squint and finally shut them, only about half a second away from sleep, my phone vibrated wildly against the nightstand beside the bed. I slowly parted my lids and stared straight ahead for a moment then with a grunt, I reached over for the obnoxious device, not even bothering to look down at the caller id before swiping my thumb across the screen.

“Yo.” I greeted with a yawn.

“Aww, somebody is tired huh? I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” Her sweet, addictive voice filled my ear and sent the most sudden jolt of excitement shooting from my head to my toes, pausing expectantly in the center of my boxers.

“Baby! Nah, I was up… what you still doing up though?” I asked, yawning once more, only this time I held it in as best as I could just so she wouldn’t hear it and fuss about me not getting any sleep. I would stay up until six thirty on the dot on this phone with her if she asked me to.

She giggled and I bit down on my bottom lip, absolutely adoring the cute sound of her perfect laugh “We just finished putting most of our stuff away… I haven’t even looked at a clock yet. What time is it?”

“Hmm,” I glanced over at the alarm clock resting on the nightstand and contemplated whether I should even tell her… I already knew what she would say if I did confess the actual time, “It’s not too late.”

While I was busy looking over at my alarm clock, I guess she decided to find out the time on her own and I shut my eyes and prepared for her rant when I heard her gasp “Oh my gosh, it’s almost three o’clock in the morning! I’m so sorry… you need to go to sleep. You said your drills are always early on weekdays… you shouldn’t be up now.”

“Nah baby, I’m fine. If I was tired, I woulda been sleep by now,” I half lied, knowing I didn’t give a real fuck what the hour was… if I got to talk to this gorgeous little lady, I’d be up with no complaints, “And if you dare hang up on me thinking you gone get me to go to sleep, I’m only gonna call you back ‘til you answer.”

She went silent for a second and I hoped that she really hadn’t hung up the damn phone on me “Okay, but I don’t want to be the reason you’re tired in the middle of your drills.” She nearly whispered in her infamous ‘girlfriend’ tone. I chuckled to myself as I thought about that… she had a knack for purposely doing certain shit that she claimed good girlfriends did to care for their man and whenever she dropped her voice to that particular octave, I knew that mode was kicking in.

“Trust me love, you won’t be… I’m fine. Now stop worrying about me and tell me how your day was.”

She released an exasperated sigh and I could only imagine the expression on her face… I just knew she was biting down on her bottom lip, thinking over exactly what she wanted to say before she said it “Well, it started out okay. My dad helped Dez and I get situated in my room then he left. We… met some new people here in the dorm and they were really nice.”

The uncertainty in her tone instantly worried me and I furrowed my brows as I pushed myself up onto my elbows and licked my steadily drying lips “What kinda people?”

“Just some people Chris. They offered to show us around the campus later and they were just really… friendly.”

I already knew that by ‘people’ she meant niggas and of course she wasn’t about to come right out and say that shit, so I went ahead and took it upon myself to assume that that’s who she was speaking of “Well maybe you should tell these nig… people, that you can figure out where everything is on campus just fine and that you don’t need no damn help.”

“Chris, stop it. This campus is huge and we’re gonna need someone to show us around a little. I don’t want to be late on my first day of classes because I was being picky all because you don’t want me talking to certain people.” She was making every bit of sense, but I truly didn’t care… with me being all the way on the east coast and her being so far away, I had to stay on my p’s and q’s with who she associated with. Not saying that she would do anything to put our relationship in jeopardy, but still… I mean, I’m sure she was probably thinking the same way with me.

“We already talked about this shit Sy’Diyah… no introductions because that only starts shit that don’t need to be started and apparently, you already been well introduced to some ‘person’ that you probably shouldn’t have for you to be sounding so giddy about this lil campus tour.”

“I’m not sounding giddy about anything. I just…” She paused and released a sigh and I could hear her shifting around before bringing the phone back to her ear, “I knew that if I just came right out and told you who really offered to show us around, you’d freak out and I don’t feel like hearing that.”

“Well I wouldn’t have to fucking freak out if you would just make this shit easy by at least thinking about the rules we made before you start doing shit like that.” I knew the tone of my voice along with my choice of words was harsh, but I couldn’t help it… she just brought that outta me.

“Stop cursing at me Chris. All I wanna do is talk to you and if you keep talking like that, I’m gonna hang up.” She muttered. Immediately falling into hush mode, I thought over what she said and realized she was right… like I said before, with the distance between us playing such a major role in this, I’d do anything to stay on the phone with her as long as I could and I couldn’t have her hanging up on me.

“I’m sorry, but baby please listen to me okay… don’t break the rules. I’m not there and you ain’t here and I know I’m not about to think twice about even glancing at another female, but I just wanna make sure them niggas around there don’t tempt you all because I’m not there.”

“No one is tempting me Charlie, don’t worry about that. Destani was the one overcome with temptation and I actually just finished talking to her about that.”

I could hear a feminine voice speaking loudly in the background and by the ghetto twang written all over it, I already knew it was Destani with her loud ass. Hope laughed at whatever she was saying and I couldn’t help but smile as I listened to her heartfelt giggle… the shit was just too damn cute.

“Destani said hi and she…” Her words became muffled suddenly and I furrowed my brows as I listened intently to figure out what was going on.

“Look nigga, she ain’t tempted with nothing aiight. I got her in check down here and I’m not about to let her fuck up. I got you Breezy… trust me.”

I pushed myself into an upright position at the edge of the bed and laughed at Destani’s method of reassurance “Imma trust you Dez, but don’t let me find out you got my girl down there fucking with them Georgia niggas… you know I’ll come down there and fuck that whole state up.”

She smacked her lips and I smirked, bracing myself for her oncoming slew of harsh words “Look light bright ass nigga, if you sitting up there tryna lowkey call my ass a hoe ‘cause you think I’m ‘bout to have these niggas turn your girl out, you can really kiss my high yellow ass. Ain’t nobody ‘bout to have Sy doing shit, but keeping her damn head in these books, but I can tell you this much… keep fucking with me with your smart-ass mouth, see how quick I purposely introduce her to one of these fine young southern men.”

“Aiight Destani, damn… I was just playing. I wasn’t even tryna call you no damn hoe in the first place,” I mumbled, chuckling softly to myself, “Put my baby back on the phone.”

I could clearly hear her still cursing my name while handing the phone over to Hope and I could only shake my head at her… the girl was truly a character.

“Geez, she is such a handful,” Hope said once she had her phone back in her possession, “But listen Charlie… I feel really bad having you on the phone for so long. You really need to get some rest and I’m not making it any better by keeping you up. Go to sleep now and call me back as soon as you get some spare time tomorrow.” She definitely didn’t need to tell me twice… hell, I’d call her in the middle of practice if she wanted me to.

“Aiight babe, I still don’t understand why you keep tryna rush me off the phone though. You know this is your second time doing that to me.” I said in a hushed tone, knowing it would get to her.

“Aww, Charlie Brown… I’m not trying to rush you off the phone, I just really don’t want you to be tired at practice.” She said and I smiled… I knew I got her with that one and if I calculated right, I’d just bought myself about fifteen more minutes to talk to her.

“I told you I’m not tired though, so the way I see it… you are rushing me off the phone, but that’s fine though. I’ll just go now.” I held my breath and went completely silent, waiting to see how she would react.

“Charlie… Chris? I know you’re still there. Chris… this isn’t funny.” I burst into a hearty bustle of laughter at her expense… I knew it wasn’t funny to trick her like that, but knowing that she was just that gullible to my humor, I couldn’t even help it.

“You’re not funny Charlie… don’t hang up on me.” She pouted.

“I’m not gonna hang up babe, I was just joking.” I said as my laughter died down.

“Well you joke too much. I was calling to ask you how your day was, but you won’t even give me a chance to ask.”

Turning my body with my back facing the headboard, I plopped back against the two soft down pillows that I had stacked there “I’m sorry baby mama. Go ahead… ask me how my day was.”

“Thank you… how was your day, Charlie?” I heard the grin in her voice and I could only smile widely as I thought over the events of the day.

“My day was good baby, thanks for asking.” She giggled softly and I found myself surrendering to the urge to sink my teeth into my bottom lip and slide my hand over my sore abdomen, edging closer and closer to the brim of my boxers.

“Well that’s good. How was your practice?” She asked. Rolling my eyes up toward the ceiling, I sighed… in all honesty, I really didn’t even wanna discuss the hell of a day I’d had, but she asked so I suppose I had to spill.

“The shit was seven hours too long and exhausting. My body feels like a ton of bricks that I can barely move right now.” I confessed.

“Aww, I’m sorry. I wish I was there to at least give you a massage or something.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and slowly rolled over onto my stomach, mushing my face down into my pillow with a low groan… I swear, if she didn’t stop I would so hop my ass on the next fucking flight to Georgia.

“Baby, come on… that’s not helping me at all right now.” I spoke into my pillow, barely loud enough for her to hear.

“I’m sorry… I was just saying,” She laughed, “But I really wish your coach would stop pushing you guys so hard. You’re only human and you can only handle so much.”

Another reason why I loved this girl more than the air that I breathed… what female do you know that could make her man feel this good with such a simple statement, even from such a distance?

“And I wish somebody could tell my fucking roommate that, ‘cause I swear this nigga just don’t know when to give up.”

“What did he do?” She asked, her voice low and full of concern.

“He apparently don’t understand the concept of going to practice, coming back to the room to eat and shower, then taking his ass to bed like a normal, tired citizen. Somewhere in there, this bitch just insists on getting stupid drunk and partying ‘til he can’t even wake up in the morning.”

“Was he doing all this in there while you were trying to get some rest? Is that why you’re so upset? Don’t let him get you angry Chris… just talk to your coach.”

“I ain’t really get upset about it. I’m not tryna lose my cool with this nigga and get my ass benched fucking around with coach. I plan to talk to him in the morning about this though and if something’s not done, I’m popping the fuck off and I’m choking this bitch nigga.”

She sighed and I could tell my language and the tone of my voice wasn’t doing much to convince her that I didn’t really get upset. After I’d told her that my coach had me seeing a therapist for my temper, she couldn’t have been more excited and she’d been supporting me every step of the way since. Whenever I do tend to get a bit irritated, to the point that I know I’m gonna lose control, I make sure to call her and she calms me down every time. I don’t know and never could figure out what it was, but it was just something about her… her presence, her face, even just her voice that kept me calm, cool, and collected.

“From the way you’re talking, it sounds to me like you got a little more than upset. We talked about this before Chris… you need to learn how to control yourself, because obviously I can’t always be there. If something or someone is bothering you, the first measure that you take to solve the problem can’t always be harming them to make yourself feel better. You’re supposed to use some of the methods that the therapist taught you to restrain yourself.”

“I know babe and I tried one of the methods tonight with this nigga and it barely worked. Besides, I was tired then and you know if you tired and somebody is keeping you from your sleep, you would probably bitch them out too.” I was listening to her, no doubt, but I still believed I had every reason to react the way I did with that nigga. He was disrespectful, period.

“No, I would politely tell them that I’m tired and it would be nice if they would keep their volume down so I can get some rest.”

I kept quiet as I took in every word she said and replayed it all over in my mind. Everything she’d said was right and eventually, I knew that I’d have to learn how to push past my anger and figure out other methods to solve whatever issues that caused me to be angry in the first place. God, I hated when she did this to me… she had such a knack for backing me into corners with her beautiful words of wisdom, leaving me utterly speechless and left to dwell on the petty actions I’d initially taken to solve my problems. Sometimes I honestly believed the girl was much wiser than her years.

“Well, you’re getting quiet on me now so I guess that means you’re tired of talking. I’m gonna let you go and get your rest now, okay.”

I frowned and closed my eyes, already feeling the effects of having listened to her soothing voice, which calmed me considerably “Okay.”

“I love you and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She nearly whispered in that sweet, angelic voice of hers.

“I love you too.”

“Goodnight and sleep tight.”

“I will,” My eyes snatched open suddenly and I cleared my throat to get her attention before she hung up, “Baby, wait.”

“Hmm?” She purred.

“No more introductions… and no friendly little campus tours tomorrow or any other day, right?”

She giggled for the last time and I shut my eyes briefly and smiled, seriously willing myself not to moan right in her ear at the sound “Yes Chris, no more introductions… and no friendly campus tours, ever.”

“Good. Now goodnight… and I hope you have sweet, wet dreams about me tonight.”

She gasped and I snickered… I just had to get her one more time before I let her go “Goodnight Charlie… I swear you’re such a perv.” After blowing her a kiss over the line, we both hung up and I placed my phone back on its charger on the nightstand then rolled over onto my back, finally ready to doze off into a deep slumber… with Hope’s sugary sweet voice still on my brain like a lullaby pushing me off to sleep.

#chrisbrown #chrisbrownff #chrisbrownfanfic #jasminesanders #chrisbrownfanfcition #jasminesandersff #teambreezy #teambreezyff #fanfiction #fanfic

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jilliancares · 7 years

Text

Rain and Trees and Sunshine

dan: very sarcastically “fanservices” us about how he borrowed phil’s jacket

me: equally sarcastically, except kind of seriously, writes a fic based on it

Summary: Phil lends Dan his jacket.

Word count: 2k

Genre: pure fluff

Dan blinked, staring in dismay outside the large, glass window before him. He’d somehow gotten sucked into staying behind after school to help Mrs. Clark tutor his fellow classmates. He was too polite to turn her down when she asked, and the very thought of doing so had Dan’s skin threatening to break out in a cold sweat.

He guessed it made sense that she would ask him for help, however. He got exceptionally good grades, and it all came with relative ease to him, which he knew his peers envied and sometimes despised him for. And while he wasn’t opposed to helping someone understand something here and there, it really was horrendous to have his free afternoon stolen right out from under him.

He’d missed his chance at enjoying the bright, sunny skies and cool breezes. In fact, he’d missed it by about a mile, as now it was pouring down rain and the cold air of the outdoors was seeping through the very glass in front of him. Dan pressed his hand against it, sighing in displeasure when he felt the very evident proof that he was not going to enjoy his walk home.

Briefly, Dan fantasized about calling his mother and asking her to pick him up, but he knew that not even in his wildest dreams would she succumb to his wishes. With an internal groan, Dan stepped towards the door, already dreading the idea of getting home and pulling sopping wet papers out of his bookbag.

“Are you going out in that?” someone called, and Dan’s heart gave a sudden, vicious thump, as he’d not known that there was anyone else around. He spun on his heel, eyes wide and heart now dancing a nervous jig, and stared in astonishment at Phil Lester.

“I—well, yeah,” Dan managed, his face going a little pink as he stuttered. He couldn’t help it. It was Phil Lester he was talking to, after all. Phil was in the grade above Dan, and he was one of the most popular people in school, being the star of the football team. Everyone jostled to get a seat next to him at lunch, and they smiled hugely at him when they passed by in the hallways, hoping he’d maybe possibly (please oh please) return one.

Dan had barely ever talked to Phil before. They’d been almost kind of friends in the second grade, and Dan had once accidentally gotten play-doh in Phil’s hair when they were nine, but other than that…

“Wearing that?” Phil questioned. Dan glanced down at himself, slightly self conscious. He figured (hoped) that Phil was referring to the fact that Dan was wearing a thin t-shirt when it seemed to be below freezing outside. Dan had dressed for the weather that morning, however, and he’d felt plenty fine then. Of course, now he was regretting not checking for the entire day’s forecast, but it was too late for regrets now.

“Yeah,” Dan laughed a bit awkwardly, and he ran a hand through his hair before abruptly stopping, realizing it would make his curls even more disorganized.

“You’re crazy,” Phil said, shaking his head. “You’ll get hypothermia, Dan.” Dan struggled to keep his eyes from widening to the size of the moon. Phil knew his name?

“I live on the edge,” Dan joked, and he felt hot all over when Phil laughed. At something he’d said!

“Well I happen to prefer my classmates alive,” Phil said with a grin, and he shrugged off his jacket. “We had practice indoors today, ‘cause of the rain and all. I think I’ll be able to retain my body heat until I get to my car.” He said this while smiling and walking easily towards Dan, jacket still held out, as if he wasn’t Phil Lester and Dan wasn’t Dan, some random nerd that hadn’t associated with Phil since play-doh was still around.

Dan did not want to accept the jacket. Mainly, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to ever give it back. And also because he was afraid he would bring it up to his face and smell it right in front of Phil, some sadistic and evil part of him keeping him from doing it at home like a sane person. Still, it seemed like some kind of inborn, ingrained reflex to grab something when someone held it out to you, and so Dan found himself with a handful of jacket au Phil Lester.

“I figure you’ll need it more than me,” Phil said with a small shrug. Dan was, very possibly, in love with Phil’s shoulders. It should probably be illegal for him to shrug. No one else could make shrugging look so… so great. “You’re parked towards the back, aren’t you? I always seeing you walking passed when I get to my car.”

In moments like these, Dan usually found himself wanted to stop time and go back, simply so he could kick himself in the head. He responded: “Oh, I don’t have a car. I just cut through the parking lot ‘cause it’s faster.”

Phil blinked at him. And then blinked again. And Dan felt himself flush. Phil was going to ask for his jacket back! He wouldn’t want it getting soaked out in that rain! And Dan should’ve refused it in the first place! He shouldn’t have accepted it like some creep!

“You were going to walk home in that?” Phil said incredulously.

“What do you mean were?” Dan questioned. ‘Were’ sounded awfully past tense. ‘Were’ sounded like something that Dan did not feel up to subjecting himself to.

“Well I’m obviously going to drive you home,” Phil scoffed, and Dan felt his mouth go dry. You don’t need saliva here, his brain informed him. Dan thought that perhaps his brain was wrong, but his dry mouth begged to differ.

“You don’t need to do that,” Dan said immediately, and Phil just rolled his eyes, as if this had been decided long ago.

“If you don’t come with me now I’ll be forced to stand here and argue with you,” Phil announced. “And then I’ll be late for dinner. Do you want to make me late for dinner?”

“I—what!” Dan managed, sounding indignant.

“I thought so,” Phil said with a nod, as if that was the end of that. “Let’s go.”

With a pointed glance at the jacket in Dan’s hands (Dan could hear his mental ‘put it on’ loud and clear, and so he did), Phil was latching onto Dan’s elbow and pulling him through the doors, out into the rain. It was immediately a million times louder, with water pounding on the pavement all around them, and Phil let out a little laugh which quickly turned into a little scream.

“Oh my God!” he gasped, immediately soaked to the bone. Dan was feeling quite protected in Phil’s letterman jacket, but the rain was seeping under his collar and his trousers were quite wet already, not to mention his hair. And that was from standing there for barely more than a second!

“Run!” Phil commanded, and apparently too impatient for Dan to start running himself, he grabbed onto Dan’s wrist and pulled him in the direction of the parking lot. Dan couldn’t help laughing as they ran, rivulets of water streaming down his face and into his mouth as they laughed and screamed, their feet sloshing through puddles and quickly moving streams near every curb. They cut through a grass median, both groaning as their feet sunk into what was clearly mud, and continued on their way to Phil’s car, whose lights were flashing on and off again as Phil frantically hit the unlock button on his car keys.

“Get in, get in!” Phil shouted, and Dan didn’t need to be told, already throwing himself into the car and breathing loudly into the suddenly quiet space, the rain muffled in its interior.

“Jesus,” Dan said, and Phil laughed loudly, already starting his car and pulling out of his parking spot, his windshield wipers flying as fast at they could go. “I take back my protests: thank you for driving me.”

“What can I say,” Phil sighed dramatically. “I’m just a good person.”

The car ride was thankfully brief, as Dan lived relatively close to the high school, which made walking not as atrocious as it could be. He was grateful for this, the thought of having to keep a conversation going with Phil Lester much too daunting otherwise.

When they pulled into his driveway, Dan turned to Phil with a smile, prepared to thank him again. Phil was already looking at him though, and his chin was rested in his palm, his elbow on the glove compartment between them.

“You’re really cute, you know,” he conveyed, and something in Dan’s brain short-circuited. Dan sputtered something intelligent and Phil laughed. Dan found himself, inexplicably, entranced by his eyelashes. Did Phil know he had great eyelashes?

Dan managed to say something that was hopefully an approximation of thank you, and Phil tapped his finger against his chin somewhat nervously before asking, “Can I kiss you?”

Dan’s entire mind went blank. And then, it went dumb. “Oh!” he said, eyes wide in disbelief. “You meant that in like, a gay way,” he clarified. Straight boys normally didn’t tell other boys that they were cute, and they most certainly didn’t ask to kiss them.

Dumb, apparently, didn’t agree with Dan, and he watched in horror as Phil’s eyes shuttered. He abruptly sat back, offense clear on his face.

“Wait!” Dan cried, similarly mortified and horror-struck. “I didn’t mean—that came out wrong,” he tried to clarify. “I mean, yes. Yes you can kiss me. Um. If you still want.”

Abruptly, Phil laughed, and it was so loud in the small space that Dan flinched, which only made Phil laugh harder. He ended up resting his forehead agains the steering wheel as he giggled, and Dan wondered if he’d somehow horribly misheard. Maybe Phil had said “Can I miss you?” as in, after Dan left his car. Or perhaps he’d said “Can I chliss you?” which yeah, wasn’t exactly a word, but it made more sense than him asking if he could kiss Dan.

Or, so Dan thought. Just as suddenly as Phil had started laughing, he stopped, and then his entire body was turning to face Dan’s and his hand was on Dan’s chin (and when had it gotten there?). Dan felt nerves prickling all over his skin, and he simply shut his eyes, figuring that if he really was about to get kissed Phil could do the work. And he did.

Dan’s eyes flew right back open once Phil’s pressed against his, and he sucked in a startled breath, before just letting it happen. It took barely any time at all, maybe a full two seconds total, during which their lips touched lightly and Phil pressed down just barely on Dan’s bottom lip, but it was heaven. When they pulled away, Dan’s face was the color of a tomato and he felt like a giggle might rip itself out of his chest right that very moment. He was giddy.

“I—thank you for the ride. And the—and the kiss. Goodnight!” Dan managed, unable to keep the grin from his face, and then he was jumping out of the car and running through his yard and to the front door, which he threw open before pressing himself against it. Through the peephole, he watched, panting, as Phil pulled slowly out of his driveway.

Once assured he was alone, Dan sunk to the ground and tipped his head back against the door, smiling like the biggest idiot on the planet. He realized, moments later, that his fingers were pressed against his lips (which were still tingling!) and he hastily pulled them away, tugging them into his sleeves to keep himself from doing so.

And that’s when he realized he was still wearing Phil Lester’s jacket.

Elated, Dan pressed his face into his sleeve covered hands and giggled, unable to help breathing in Phil’s scent. Like rain and trees and sunshine, all at once.

#phanfic #phanfiction #phan #um fuck you dan howell!!#i do what i WANT #here you go everyone #enjoy my SHIT!!!

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forbiddensoul562 · 7 years

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If you were to write something in exchange for the coffee, I would like to hear about Mello and Near adopting a pet. First, their discussions about the type of pet that would be best, and the actual choosing of the animal. (You'll just have to trust that it was me who bought the coffee lol. I don't feel like coming off anon)

Sorry this is a bit late, and a bit long. If I get my Meronia domestic one-shots going, I will edit this one, polish it up nice, and post it up there. I hope you enjoy it!

(Most beneath a ‘read more’)

If you would like to get your own piece, please consider contributing: here

Adoption Day

If there was ever such a thing as ‘overstimulation’ this would be it.

There wasn’t a lot that Near wasn’t willing to compromise on, when it came to Mello, after all, someone had to if their relationship was going to ever work. But in this case, he couldn’t help wondering if perhaps he’d taken matters a bit too far.

The room they were in was cold and concrete. This made it easy to clean, but at the tradeoff of the loud reverberating sound of all the dogs barking at each other and the few people that walked the aisles as though shopping for groceries. Being here churned his stomach.

Of course, he had considered staying home and letting Mello make this decision for them. But thinking on it more made him realize that if he left it in Mello’s hands alone, the blonde would come home with far more than Near had ever known he had agreed to.

Mello wanted a pet. A marker, Near assumed, by which to indicate that their relationship was strong enough to support the necessities of taking care of a living creature. He could agree to that.

Mello wanted to adopt a pet from a shelter. And this too Near could read between the lines on. He could see how, if they were to provide a home for an animal, Mello wanted it to be one that society had essentially abandoned; that nobody wanted. Just like them.

But Mello wanted a dog and therein lay Near’s ultimate problem…

Near’s shoulders hunched a bit closer together, his fingers reaching up to twirl a lock of hair as he looked from one cement cell to the next, feeling as though if he looked for too long into each dog’s eyes, he would risk handing over his heart before he’d really thought it through.

“I don’t think this is a good idea…” Near said, speaking up louder to the blonde a few steps ahead of him so he would be heard above the constant barking. Just thinking about living with constant barking sent a wave of displeasure through his body.

Mello stopped and turned ninety degrees back to look at him. “You already agreed to this.”

“Yes, but I didn’t exactly agree to getting a dog.”

“What did you think I meant when I said I wanted a pet? Obviously we should get a dog. They’re playful, and loyal, and compassionate…”

Near nodded, “Yes, but perhaps not the best idea for apartment living in the middle of the city… You’d have to take it out all the time, and find some kind of park to let it play. You don’t always have that kind of time” He retorted, looking into one of the cells where a peppy German Sheppard looked back at him and pranced about wanting his attention. What would Near even do with a big dog like that? “Besides, it would be a bit of a complication to my work…” How could Mello expect him to spread out his toys on the floor when a dog might step on them and break them, or worse, eat them? What would he do if he came into the room one day to find his main suspect in a murder investigation had been chewed up by Mello’s ‘loyal’ canine? He shuddered to imagine…

“So don’t spread out your stuff on the floor.” Mello replied, his lips pulling to one side as he contemplated as he meandered through the space. “You need to put that shit on a table anyway, I’m tired of stepping on all of your suspects.”

Near nodded, “I will buy as many tables as you’d like if we forgo this idea of yours…”

Again Mello stopped and looked back to Near, “You agreed to it.” He persisted.

“Think about it, Mello, a dog, especially a large dog, will not enjoy being cooped up in a small space when they could have the opportunity to go to a family that will take them out and devote the necessary time to caring for it. While I have no doubt that you will provide and do what you can, what is to happen when we’re both swamped with work?”

Mello was silent for a long time, looking the younger successor over up and down. His lips finally pursed, “And what would you have us get?”

Near shrugged, “I don’t know. Something significantly simpler… Some fish? A bird? A turtle?”

Azure eyes rolled, a defeated sigh momentarily collapsing his chest, “You would want a bird. Something you can keep away from the world in a cage.”

The corner of Near’s lips pulled downwards a bit, “True, but at least I could teach it to tell you that all the chocolate you eat is going to go to your waist.”

Mello held his silence again, looking over into the cell beside him, to a medium sized brown lab curled up on the makeshift bed that had been provided in the corner. In his gaze Near could see how leaving felt like abandonment… felt like continuing the cycle of what they had been put through, and telling every dog trapped here that they were still not good enough to be taken. Looking into Mello’s distracted eyes made Near realize that in that moment he had looked too long… that he indeed was handing his heart over without thinking.

His lips parted, ready to tell Mello to pick whichever he wanted, but the blonde cut him off. “Fine. Let’s go.” The defeat in his tone was covered over only by a thin veil of disappointment that alluded to the growing question of whether they were strong enough for this. Reluctantly, Near followed him to the door.

Exiting the area specifically for dogs, they began down a hallway of the shelter towards the front room, Near’s gaze fell to the floor, his fingers never leaving his hair as he mulled over his own question of how to fix what he had broken apart. He didn’t want to destroy Mello’s ambition. He didn’t want to make him second guess anything. But how to convey that?

He looked up as they neared the door that separated them from the front processing room, the sign hanging on the sign wall catching his eye. “Mello.” The blonde stopped. “What about a cat?”

The older successor turned to him, the expression on his face shifting to confusion, then to one of more general distaste. “We’re not getting a cat. You can’t love them like you do dogs. Cats just fight you and run away. Besides, I don’t want to have to deal with cleaning a litter box.”

Near ignored him, heading to the door separating them from the room where the cats were kept. “Let’s go look.” Begrudgingly, Mello followed him.

The room was significantly quieter than the dogs, though not entirely unpunctuated by the sound of meowing from various cats kept housed in small metal cages. Seeing them there many curled up into themselves in the corner with only a food dish and a small cardboard litter tray, pulled at Near’s heart. “Mello…” He didn’t know what to say, or how to convey what seeing these creatures made him feel.

He proceeded down the rows, looking at each one which varied in all different breeds, ages, and sizes. “A cat would be much more practical.” He told him.

“It’s not a dog.” He could hear the disgruntled tone from where Mello trailed behind him.

He shook his head, “No, but think about it. Cats are much simpler. They can manage themselves besides their basic necessities if need be. They would do well in a small space without having to go outside. Look at some of the tags,” he said as he pointed to the individual card on each cage that provided a brief introduction to the cat inside. “Many of these say they like to play and even cuddle. That’s what you wanted in a dog, right?”

Mello remained silent on the matter.

Finally Near stopped at one of the cages, a small orange cat paced inside back and forth. Near smiled just seeing it- him, the card pointed out. ‘One year old.’ It read, ‘Surrendered by an owner who could no longer care for him. Loves people, loves to play and sleep on laps.’

“Hello.” He greeted, perhaps a bit too formally. Contrary to many of the posted signs around the room, he reached up and put his fingers through the silver bars of the cage. The cat came over to him, sniffed his fingers for a moment, then released a quiet chipping like sound as he brushed his cheeks up against him, then raked the length of his body over him.

“Mello…” He repeated.

The blonde sighed, “Yeah, yeah…” He came to stand close to Near, placing his own fingers through the bars when Near retracted his. The cat circled around and repeated the process, sniffing at Mello’s fingers then raking his body over them; utterly using Mello for his own benefit. Near’s small smile grew. He would fit right in.

He glanced over to Mello, watching the way his light blue eyes took his form in and processed this moment. There was something in them, though, something that made Near’s heart beat just a bit faster.

“Alright.” Mello relented with a small sigh, “We’ll take him home.”

#Meronia #Death Note #MelloNear #MelloxNear #fsfics #Anonymous

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