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#Some of the reading lists passed around these days are uh
loveronlineee · 2 years
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The Metalhead and the Material Girl (Eddie Munson x Reader)
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Masterlist   All Parts
Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)
Warnings: none
Synopsis: When a super fem new girl joins Eddie’s class he thinks he’s got her all figured out, but he soon finds out that the popular kids aren’t the only ones who judge people’s first appearances 
Y/N notes: none
Okay I don’t usually do writers notes but I gotta say thanks to these four: @carolinaflicker​ @iamsiriuss​ @hauntingtherosebush​ @lindsey3300​ for helping me out on the lil bit of D&D stuff I mentioned. Some of you guys had slightly different answers for me so if I’m still wrong let me know! (And other D&D playing peeps)
Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!
Wanna request something? Look here!
“I’m Y/N L/N. I transferred here from California for my senior year. I like pop music, fashion and hanging out with my friends. And I hope I can become friends with all of you!”
Pretty. Bubbly. Probably a bit of an airhead. The popular kids will scoop her up in a heartbeat. Eddie thought to himself looking up at the new girl. I wonder how long it’ll take for her to be just like everyone else.
The teacher pointed at the empty seat on the metal head’s right, giving the boy a stern look.
“Y/N I’m gonna seat you next to Eddie here at the front so you can help me keep an eye on him.” Eddie grinned and gave the teacher a wink.
Okaaaay here we go. Eddie thought to himself, leaning back in his chair. What kind of popular girl is this one gonna be? Disgusted by me? Weirded out? Just plain old pretend I don’t exist?
“Hi, Eddie was it?” The new girl asked with the biggest most genuine smile Eddie had ever seen. Her face was enough to melt away any built up hate he had accumulated from every harsh comment thrown at him throughout the years.
“Uh yeah Eddie. Eddie Munson.” He couldn’t help the smile appearing on his own face. This girl was a ball of sunshine.
“Nice to meet you Eddie.” He watched as she took out her things from her bag and set them out on the table. Everything was either pink, glittery or had a cute little character on it. She wrote the date on a new page in her notebook, doodling little stars around the numbers.
The teacher came over and placed a piece of paper on Y/N’s desk.
“This is your time table with your classes. Don’t be afraid to ask someone for help.”
“Oh thank you!” Y/N chirped before beginning to read through it. “Hey Eddie, what classes do we have together?” She tilted the paper towards him. Eddie leaned over and skimmed the page.
“Oh wow most of them. We got all the same ones today in fact.”
“Do you mind if I just stuck with you then?”
“Y-Yeah. Yeah that’s cool.” Eddie wasn’t in fact planning on going to all his classes today, like most days, but he couldn’t pass up the chance to get to know this girl more. He spent the morning walking Y/N to all her classes, pointing out other parts of the school she’ll need to know. He revelled in the looks the other students were giving him when they saw them together. The resident freak with a mystery bombshell.
Lunch came around and Y/N followed Eddie to the lunch hall.
“Hey I’ve been meaning to ask you… what’s on your shirt? Is it a band?” Y/N asked.
“It’s my club.”
“Oh cool! You run a club? What’s it about?” Eddie smiled at her as they reached his table of friends.
“A little game called D&D.” He turned to them and gestured to the new girl. “Gentlemen, this is Y/N.”
The boys all looked at her slack jawed, unable to think of anything to say. Luckily, Y/N had enough social skills for the whole table.
“It’s nice to meet you all! I started here today, Eddie’s been showing me around.” She explained as Eddie pulled out the chair in between his and Dustin’s and letting her sit down. He sat in his own chair at the head of the table just observing his friends trying to process this girl being here.
“You’ve been with Eddie…” Mike started asking very slowly, like he was waiting for the pin to drop. “…since this morning?”
“Yeah he’s been really helpful.” Y/N smiled at the younger student. “So are you two freshmen?”
Y/N continued chatting with Mike and Dustin. Eddie looked behind them at the popular kids who were eyeing him suspiciously. The cheerleaders all glaring and whispering to each other. “Eddie!” The metal head looked back at Y/N.
“Yeah?”
“So all these guys are in your club?” She gestured at the group. “You were gonna tell me about D&D earlier, what’s the game about?” Y/N asked, genuinely interested. Eddie grinned. He stood up like he was presenting to a class. Everyone sat up, hands neatly rested on the table, going along with the joke.
“D&D, or Dungeons and Dragons, is a fantasy table-top roleplaying game that only a select few at this school truly appreciate.” Eddie used theatrical hand motions as he described the game, putting one foot on his chair to add to the dramatic effect. “It is a game of teamwork, decision making, and the luck of the dice.”
He gave Dustin a small nod which prompted the boy to take a heavy book out of his bag and put it in front of Y/N. The Dungeons and Dragons Handbook. She began flicking through it, taking in as much as she could. She gasped.
“Can I be a fairy???” Eddie chuckled at her enthusiasm. He sat back down and shuffled his chair closer to hers.
“I’m sure I could homebrew something for you. Either that or you could be an elfen princess? If you just want that pretty ethereal girl look.” Eddie paused. “That… you’ve already got.” He looked back down at his hands, a little hesitant of his last line, before looking back up. Y/N was smiling at the compliment, easing Eddie’s nerves.
“Hey!” Two cheerleaders had approached the table, one calling out to Eddie with annoyance in her voice. “Why don’t you just stick with the freaks?” Eddie leaned away from Y/N and looked to the popular girls.
They turned to Y/N, who seemed a little confused. “You can come and sit with us instead.” One of them said, like she was doing the new girl a favour. Y/N looked over at Eddie. He kept his face the same, not wanting to influence her decision.
Of course he wanted her to stay, but he just couldn’t deal with the guilt of depriving Y/N of having an actual enjoyable high school experience. It didn’t matter how pretty she was, if she was hanging out with the freaks then she was gonna get bullied.
“Oh uh okay then.” Y/N replied apprehensively, slowly getting up. “I-I’ll be back in a minute.” She said as she was dragged away by the cheerleaders. Eddie pursed his lips together in a saddening smile.
“Suuuuuuuure you will.” He said just as Y/N got out of earshot. He looked around at the guys. “And that my friends, concludes the story of the time we almost got a hot chick to play D&D.” The group mumbled and chuckled, going back to their lunch, clearly no where nearly as affected as Eddie.
He knew this was inevitable. With who Y/N was and who he was. But a part of him, a small part of him wanted to believe that she’d stay. For him. That she wouldn’t get poisoned by the ideologies of the social hierarchy. But that was just wishful thinking. He looked back down at the table.
At least it was nice while it lasted.
“Sorry bout that.” Eddie looked back up to see Y/N again. “So I can be an elf princess?”
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“…why are you here?”
“I did say I’d only be gone a minute.” She smiled. Eddie stared at her, unable to speak. His head slowly turned to the popular kids. They looked even more surprised than him.
“W-What about them?” He gestured.
“What about them?” Y/N asked, confused.
“Aren’t you gonna hang out with them?”
“They don’t seem like people I’d want to hang out with.”
“They don’t?”
“Do I look like a bully to you?” She joked. “So, elf princess? Yes?” Eddie’s smile retuned to his face.
“Yeah. Yeah definitely a princess.”
Tag list: @Mikinyi @justaproudslytherpuff @angelicjinwoo @k12baby @spiderman-berries​ @ruhro7​ @justanotherhappyidiot @dontcallmesavvy @kenzi-woycehoski​
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 2 months
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Target Acquired - Rooster
Pairing: Rooster / Female! Reader
Length: 1.2k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only
Warnings: Discussions of Menstruation/Periods and Everything That Goes with It; Rooster (Slightly) Panicking; Amelia Being Sassy; Fluff; Flirting; Use of "You" but No Y/N; Female Reader but No Physical Description
Summary: Amelia gets her first period while Rooster is left in charge of her. He is forced to ask for help from the first woman he sees, which just so happens to be you.
Master List
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When Rooster agreed to watch Amelia for Penny for a weekend so that she and Maverick could have a weekend to themselves, he thought that it was going to be simple. Amelia was fifteen. She couldn’t drive herself anywhere, but she could advocate for herself. If he left her alone for half a day, she would survive.
But, of course, Amelia had to get her period for the first time. Ever. And Penny wasn’t answering her phone. And Phoenix wasn’t either. 
So, here he was, standing in the middle of Target, starting to pull his own hair out, as he tried to figure out what size of pads or tampons he should buy Amelia. He had no idea. Not a clue. His mom had given him an overview of what to expect with women on their periods, but his mind was completely blank as he edged towards a state of uncontrolled panic. 
“Just get the normal ones!” Amelia yelled at Rooster over the phone, holed up in her bathroom back at the house. “I still can’t find my mom’s stuff!”
“Just tell me what size to buy!” 
“The normal ones!”
“What color are the normal ones!?”
“I don’t know! Can’t you read!?” Amelia yelled back at him. Rooster sighed, forcing himself to take a breath. “Just ask someone!” 
“No, I’ll figure it out.” 
“I’m literally bleeding out in my bathroom right now, Rooster! Ask someone for help!” 
Rooster held the phone away from his ear, which he swore was ringing from Amelia’s yelling. Looking around, Rooster paused when he saw you step into the aisle. You offered him a kind half-smile before turning to the products. Quickly grabbing a set of tampons and pads, you were about to carry on with your shopping when Rooster seized his chance.
“Excuse me, Miss?” he asked awkwardly, causing you to grow a bit defensive. After all, women assumed that the one aisle where they wouldn’t be accosted by men would be in front of the tampons. “Um . . . I need some help picking out some pads and tampons.” 
“Okay,” you replied cautiously, clearly a bit confused. 
“My . . . step-sister just got her period for the first time and her mom isn’t picking up and I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to buy. And I really need some help so that she doesn’t kill me when I come back with the wrong stuff.” 
Your face softened at his explanation and you even chuckled a bit to yourself. Pointing at his phone, you asked, “Is she on the phone right now?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Can I talk to her?” 
“Yeah, of course. Uh, her name’s Amelia.” 
You smiled and brought his phone up to your ear. Introducing yourself to Amelia and offering Rooster a reassuring look, you looked at the period products in front of you. 
“So, I think it’s probably best for you to start with pads,” you began, picking up two different boxes and placing them into Bradley’s basket. “I’m grabbing you a thicker pad and a panty liner. Start with the thicker pad and definitely wear it overnight. But when your starts to stop, you can switch to the panty liner just to make sure you got it all out.” 
“It seems pretty heavy now.” 
“The first days are usually the heaviest. It’ll get lighter as the days pass. Some women finish their periods in two or three days. But if it goes on longer than a week, you should talk to your doctor about it. Or maybe go to see a gynecologist, if you can.” 
Rooster stood there, quietly making notes to himself, in case he found himself in this position again. After reassuring and answering a few more of Amelia’s questions, you grabbed a box of tampons and placed them into the basket as well. 
“I’m giving you a box of light tampons. They’re the smallest ones. But don’t feel like you have to use them. I waited almost two years to use them myself. But if you want to try it out, you just squat a little, insert it, push the smaller moveable part up while you hold the bigger piece in place, and then slowly pull the plastic out. Don’t leave that in there. And don’t forget to take it out after a couple hours.” 
“Thank you,” Amelia replied, causing you to smile. 
“Anytime.” 
You handed the phone back to Rooster, who offered you a thankful smile before he pulled the phone up to his ear. 
“You okay? Do you feel better now?” he asked Amelia.
“I mean, I’m still bleeding out, but at least you’re bringing the right stuff back.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be home soon. Text me if you need anything else.” 
Rooster hung up the phone before turning back to you. Sliding his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, Rooster tried to not be awkward after his request to you, a complete stranger. A complete, very cute, stranger, who was no longer staring at him like he was a freaky weirdo lurking in the feminine products aisle. 
“I hope that was helpful,” you offered, causing Rooster to nod.
“Definitely. I was completely lost.” 
“I could tell.” 
“Right,” Rooster laughed off, rubbing the back of his neck. Slowly dropping his arm, he added, “Is there anything else that I should buy for her?” 
“There’s always things that you can buy for this,” you assured him.
You led him through the aisles, placing some pain relievers and a hot water bottle in his basket. And when Rooster asked again if there was anything else that he could get for Amelia, you pulled him into the food section. 
“Now, every woman is different, but when I’m on my period, I’m always craving something sweet. Chocolate is a good go-to, but honestly, I’m usually craving some kind of baked good. A cupcake or peanut butter cookies or something else entirely. Does she have anything that she usually likes to eat?” 
“Peanut butter, actually, yeah,” Rooster agreed.
The two of you walked through the rest of the food section to pick out a few items before slowly making your way to the checkout aisles. 
“I should pay for your stuff,” he offered, causing you to shake your head.
“No, no, it’s fine,” you insisted, holding your basket away from him. “It’s nothing.” 
“Let me pay for something, at least.” 
“You can buy me a coffee,” you replied, smiling softly. “After you go home and help Amelia, of course.” 
You typed your phone number into Rooster’s phone and the two of you bid goodbye to each other before heading your separate ways. Not even an hour after you left the store, Rooster texted you.
Amelia told me to say thank you again for your help. She and I know that I would have been hopeless without you. 
Sitting in your kitchen, you smiled to yourself as you typed back a response.
Always happy to help!
Biting your lip and wondering if the exclamation point was too aggressive, you let out a breath of relief when Rooster quickly texted you back. 
Are you free tomorrow for that coffee? Amelia’s mom is coming home then, so I’ll be free. 
Yeah, I’m free. Does 11 work? There’s a cute coffee shop right around the corner from Target with a nice patio in the back.
I know what place you’re talking about. I’ll see you there tomorrow at 11.
It’s a date, you typed back.
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daisynik7 · 10 months
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so first off all i wanted to say that i LOVE your writing.
but, if you don’t mind, could you make an NSFW fic about a dilf! toji with his babysitter. but like cheating.
so basically toji has a wife but he’s cheating on her with the babysitter(whose like 10 years younger than him).
i’d really love if you could do it
thanks bookie🫶🏽
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Pairing: dilf!Toji x babysitter!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~1.7k
cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink
Author’s Notes: Thank you for your kind words, you are too sweet! This is my very first Toji fic EVER, so I was very excited (and nervous!) to write it. I hope I did it justice, this is such a delicious idea for him. Also, I have never read the manga, so if the characterization is off, I’m so sorry! I really, really hope you like this one! Divider created by @/fic-dumpster.
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You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.
It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 
Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?” 
You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”
He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”
Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”
You smile at her. “It’s okay.”
She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”
He scratches his head. “Huh?”
“Megumi. Our child.”
He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.” 
While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”
She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”
She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”
Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”
“Sure.”
“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”
“Huh?!” 
She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”
You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…
~~~
The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy. 
Toji, on the other hand, is another story. 
You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you. 
But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?
On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas. 
When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”
“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby. 
He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”
“Yes, of course. Sir.”
For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”
You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence. 
Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”
You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”
He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”
You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”
“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”
~~~
This is bad. Very, very bad. 
You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.
“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.
“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”
You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”
His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time. 
After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with. 
He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho. 
“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.” 
And apparently, so are you. 
“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”
He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.
Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job. 
~~~
You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working. 
The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.” 
“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen. 
“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”
As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking. 
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bobby-r2d2-floyd · 1 year
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The Nanny (Hangman x Reader)
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authors note: so, hangman won by a long shot in the poll, but for the few that voted for the rest, they're still coming! i have to deal with the bs with my basement and i am a college student, so i have to deal with my coursework as well.
inspired by @roosterforme
this will be a mutli part series, im not sure how many parts though
pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x benjamin niece!reader; established mav x penny
warnings: some swear words and an inaccurate depiction of how social workers handle dropping a baby off to its living, absent father. also cyclone is a dad bc jon hamm if a dilf.
not proof or beta read, we die like men.
summary: Hangman wakes up one day to a social worker and an infant on his doorstep. the infant? his 3 month old daughter.
word count: 1.9k
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It was the one day that the Dagger squad had a later morning (11am, per Maverick’s request), so when the pounding on Jake’s door woke him up at 8:45, he was a little pissed.
He stumbled out of bed and the arms of some red head whose name he definitely doesn’t remember, throwing on a shirt along the way to his front door where the pounding is originating from and reverberating through his skull. “I heard you the first fucking time,” he curses out, throwing the door open and preparing to unleash verbal hell on the person standing at his doorstep.
All the words die out though when he sees an older woman standing there with a sleeping baby in a car seat at her feet. “Jacob Seresin?” she asks and his eyes bounce between the infant and the woman.
“Yes?” he asks, voice cracking a bit as he looks back to the woman.
“Do you mind if I come in?” he nods and moves aside as she picks up the car seat and steps inside. “My name is Caroline Husband, I’m a social worker for the state of California.” she tells him as she sets the seat down on his coffee table, “and this is Avery. Your daughter.” 
Jake feels his heart stop as he looks down at the little girl, “what, what do you mean?” he sinks down to the floor on his knees, heart racing and Caroline gives him a small smile.
“Her mother-” she looks down at the paperwork she was holding, “Samantha Barnes, passed away from complications shortly after birth, you were listed as father on the birth certificate.” 
Samantha Barnes… Jake remembered her with a small smile. They were briefly exclusive before she had disappeared one night, leaving behind the memories and a note saying she needed to go back home to help with her ailing father, her last living relative that she still spoke to.
“H-how uh, how old is she?” he asks, taking her small, but definitely bigger than a newborn, hand in between his finger and thumb.
“She spent some time with a foster while the state was waiting for you to return stateside. She just turned 3 months old.” Caroline forms him, which makes sense as he was just in the middle of the ocean for the last five months. “I have some supplies in my car that her foster mom put together for you, should you choose to keep her.” 
“Choose to?” he asks, as if there was any other option for him. The second he found out Avery was his, there was never any other option.
“You can alway sign your parental rights away, there’s plenty of families looking to adopt babies.” she says and he shakes his head.
“No, she stays with me,” Jake says as he stands and Caroline smiles up at him.
“Well then, there’s all the information that you need. Her old foster mom made a list of information for you, her pediatrician, what formula she was feeding, how to prepare bottles...” she goes on to tell him more necessary information about Avery but tunes her out as he watches the little girl start to wake up and look around, well, as much as a 3 month old can, he supposed. “Here’s my card, it has my personal cell phone number on the back should you not be able to reach me at my office in the event of an emergency.” 
He takes it with a smile and a thank you before walking Caroline to the door to help her bring the items in from her car and as quickly as she was here, she was gone. Leaving Jake to sit on his couch as he stares into the eyes of his daughter. 
He kicks out his guest after 15 minutes of sitting there before he’s googling how to put a car seat base securely into the back seat of a F-150. After fighting for what felt like an hour (only 10 minutes) he has his daughter secured in his car before driving way under the speed limit to The Hard Deck, only 45 minutes late to meeting up with the rest of the Daggers but as soon as they see him walk into the bar with a car seat, all the teasing for being late blows out of there mind. 
“Do we need to call the police?” Bradley teases and Jake lets out a nervous laugh.
“No.. no police needed.” Jake says as he sets his daughter’s car seat and diaper bag in the middle of the pool table the team was surrounding.
“Well, then who is this?” 
Jake takes a deep breath before answering, “this is my daughter, Avery Seresin.”
Immediately the team has plenty of questions for the team’s resident playboy. He explains the situation as best he can with the information he got from Caroline.
“I never even knew Sam was pregnant. She never said anything and then she was gone.” Jake says softly as he looks down as his daughter in his arms, sleepily drinking from the bottle he made and Penny gives him a smile.
“You seem like a natural already.” she says, snapping a photo of the daddy-daughter moment and he smiles.
“Yeah, I was still around when my sisters started having their own kids, all girls too, ironically.” he responds with a small laugh and the movement of his chest startled Avery awake and she starts drinking more steadily again.
The squad takes the rest of the day before the bar opens with turns holding the newest member of the team. Aside from Jake, Bob and Natasha were the only other two who seemed comfortable enough to hold her without needing any instruction on support for her head. 
“Does Cyclone know you have a kid yet?” Mav asks as he takes his turn holding Avery, seasoned from when Bradley was a baby and he used to watch him while Carole and Goose needed alone time. 
“Fuck, no not yet.” Jake groans as he rubs his hands over his face. “I need to go see him.”
“Go see him now, between Penny being a mom and me dealing with Bradley as a baby there’s plenty of experience here to watch Avery for a bit while you try to get some time to adjust to dad-life.” Mav says and Jake looks over at him.
“You’re serious?” 
“Yeah, besides, Avery is already better at 3 months than Rooster ever was.” Mav teases and Bradley makes a couple of offended noises before being slapped in the chest by Natasha. 
Jake nods, “okay well here’s her-”
“Hangman, get out of here. I did all this with Amelia.” Penny says as she pushes him towards the door and Jake pulls her into a hug.
“Thank you so much, Pen.” he says, meaning it too since Penny is the closest thing to a mom that he has since he hasn’t talked to his real mom in years. 
The drive into base wasn’t a long one, but felt like it was with how often he was checking his backseat and not seeing his daughter before remembering she was safe with Penny and Maverick at the bar. 
Walking into Admiral Simpson’s office, Jake broke out into a nervous sweat. “Um, excuse me, sir.” he says as he knocks on the open door.
Both Admiral Simpson and Admiral Bates looked up at him from where they were sitting at the desk discussing some news that they received from higher ups. 
“Can I help you, Lieutenant?” Cyclone asks and Jake nods, taking that as an ‘okay’ to walk into the office.
“Yes actually, I uh.. I was wondering if I would be able to get leave, sir. I had a surprise visit from a social worker this morning and-and my infant daughter.” he says as he straightens out his back and rolls his shoulders back.
“You have a child?” Cyclone asks, closing the folder that he had open to focus more on Jake. “Since when?” 
“Well, as of 9am this morning, sir. Her mother passed away after she was born and no other living relatives so… She’s currently with me. Well, not with me Captain Mitchell and Penny Benjamin are currently watching her.. sir.” 
Warlock and Cyclone share a look and Jake stands there nervously, “I know that this is short notices but all I’m asking for is a week to figure things out, find a sitter, get some kind of a routine started for-”
“Okay.” Cyclone says and Jake looks at him instead of the spot that he had been looking at on the wall. “You only want just one week?”
“I can have more, sir?” Cyclone nods, having recently become a father himself and knows how important bonding is for parents. 
“Unless something urgent comes, how does three weeks sound?” he asks as he pulls something up on his computer and begins to type.
“I would greatly appreciate that.” Jake says with a small smile and Cyclone nods, ending the conversation and Jake starts to walk out of the office.
“Seresin?” Warlock calls out and Jake turns around, “congratulations.”
“Thank you, sirs.” 
Jake drives back to the bar already feeling lighter than he had in the last 6 hours, and upon walking back into the watering hole, he sees a red faced Avery and a panicked Rooster.
“Bradshaw what did you do to my daughter?” 
“What did I do? She threw up on me!” he says, holding the infant safely, and at an arm's length away. 
The rest of the team is laughing behind him and Jake just takes Avery and lays her against him so her head is on his shoulder, “well I’m sure you deserved it.” 
Bradley glares at him before wandering away to the bathroom to clean up. Jake smiles and rubs his daughters back as she babbles in his ear.
“How did talking to the boss go?” Penny asks and Jake smiles.
“Really good, actually. Said I can have three weeks as long as nothing urgent comes up that’ll need the full team's attention.” 
“Well, if you ever need a nanny so you can have a break and none of us are available, my niece just moved to the area and is looking for work.” Penny says with a small smile as Jake moves to sit next to her. “Plus she has a degree in early childhood and special education.” 
“Okay, yeah I’ll let you know.” he says with a nod.
“Well, you can meet her tonight, she’s supposed to come and help me out here for the night since Jimmy can’t make it in.” Jake just nods and Penny pats his shoulder that Avery isn’t sleeping on while she stands to start opening duties for the bar. 
Jake didn’t end up meeting Penny’s niece that night, or any time in the following week. In fact, it wasn’t until the last week of his leave that he met her. 
Jake was holding Avery as he walked into the bar before it opened, she was babbling up a storm and he took his sunglasses off to put on the top of his head when he saw someone new behind the bar, head thrown back and laughing at something that Bob had said. 
You look over at him and he swears his heart stopped, “Hi! I’m Y/N Benjamin, but you can call me Saturn.”
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darylbrainrot · 3 months
Text
Cold winters ᯓ★
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Gojo x F! Reader (8.4k word count)
⋆ SYPNOSIS: you and a classmate get assigned to work on a project together only for your feelings to progress the more you work together.
⋆ INFO: fem reader, modern au, no curses, fluff, classmates to lovers, self-consious thoughts from reader, not proof read, gojo might be ooc, cursing.
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You seemed to enjoy cold winters—the snow dusting the ground and creating a seemingly dream-like atmosphere. The only thing you disliked about these snowy times was the countless couples seeming to show up and appear out of nowhere. Shoving their relationships into your face (they were just holding hands) pointed out how you felt lonely with nobody to share your body heat in an attempt to keep warm in these harsh times. Yet your countless failed relationships or situationships confirmed your struggles to find someone interested in you as much as you were interested in them.
This was until a certain blue-eyed boy showed up in the equation; he was cute, of course. You thought nothing more of it, knowing that it wouldn't lead to anything. This was just wishful thinking on your part, believing you would have a chance with him despite the countless number of girls fawning over him—countless prettier girls than you thought.
You met him in one of your high school classes; you actually had him in most of your periods. Your 7th-period teacher has assigned a project with assigned partners, and you were assigned with him. You only had minor conversations with him; most of them were him asking you for help since he wasn't paying attention and was just messing around with his friends. Yet now you'd have to work with him both outside and inside of school to finish this project, which was worth a lot of your grade. You weren't really looking forward to it, thinking that you'd have to do most of the work with him slacking off, yet you still had hope for at least a decent grade.
December 4th.
"You guys will be working on a project with assigned partners; your partners will be shown on the screen, so get to work. This will be due at the end of the month and will be a big percentage of your grade." Your teacher says, You turn to the screen to look for your partner. Scanning through a list of names of your classmates, you find yours: "y/n & gojo." You read through your squinted eyes while trying to search for your name. You were hoping I'd be at least one of your friends from this period, yet you get someone known for being a class clown—someone who doesn't necessarily pay attention… You're hoping it wasn't bad. Being too caught up in your own thoughts, you didn't realize Gojo was making his way toward you.
"Heyyy y/n…" he said, with, of course, an alter motive clear in his voice. "yes, gojo?" You stare at him as he makes his way in front of your table while dragging a chair behind him and placing it in front of you. "You know I appreciate you and respect you, right?" He grins, batting his lashes at you. "Gojo, I'll do most of the work if you at least put some effort into it." You sigh at his antics, moving to put your check into the palm of your hand. "Deal!" he grins at you. "What's your number, y/n? I want to be able to text you if I need help on this project…" He grins at you once again, this smile of his always making your stomach turn. "Oh, uh, do you have your phone on you? I can just type it in if it's okay with you." He nods towards you, gravitating to reach for his phone to give it to you.
"Here you go." He passes the phone to you with the new contact page open already, going to grab his phone while typing your number into it. "Uh, if you have questions or anything, you can just text me. We should set up a day to meet up so we can try to finish this as early as possible so we won't have to worry about it later on." You look at him only to find his eyes already on you. "Is this a way of asking me out on a date?" He smirks at you. "You wish; I just want to get this assignment over." "Yeah, yeah, whatever." He frowns slightly, this action going unnoticed by you.
December 6th.
It was finally Friday. Thank the gods. You had finished a bit less than half of the project with Gojo only doing anything, yet it was Gojo. What did you expect? You dreaded going into your 7th period, knowing Gojo would just be bugging you for most of the period, barely allowing you to do at least some of the work to be considered on track. As your 6th-period bell rang, signaling that you should head toward your 7th period, you started to head toward your class, attempting to avoid other students who were just being loud in the hallway. A stark contrast to your character.
As you entered your class and headed towards your seat, you found Gojo already there, awaiting your arrival. You found him with his head down on the desk next to yours. As you got to your seat, you got your laptop and materials from your bag and placed them on your table. Only now do you realize the soft snores leaving Gojo. Realizing he is asleep, you try your best to keep quiet. This can at least allow you to do some work while Gojo keeps quiet.
As you pull up the assignment on your now-opened laptop, you notice Gojo stirring in his sleep. This was a sign for you to stop your movements, trying to keep quiet, although the whole class was loud— you were surprised at how Gojo can nap in such a loud environment. You kept your eyes on him for a while, looking for when he'd stop moving. As he stopped moving, you turned your eyes back onto your shared document with Gojo. When you decided to finish one of your slides that was half done, you were too focused on gathering your research and typing it down to realize that you were reaching the end of the period.
The end of the 7th period bell alerts you. At the end of this period, you start to pack your things away, only to still find Gojo asleep. You were at least glad your next and final period was a free one, finding this as an opportunity to finish other work and to relax for a while. But Gojo still had a period next; you attempted to wake him up to no avail.
"Gojo, wake up; it's 8th period now, and you're going to be late." You shake him only for him to finally stir in his sleep. "5 more minutes." His voice was groggy from his nap. "No extra minutes; you have to wake up." "I don't want to…" his head still in his folded arms on the desk. "Well, you have to; you literally have like… 3 more minutes to get to your next class, gojo." As you say that, he finally lifts his head off of the desk and looks at you with a pout. "Aren't you going to be late? Or do you care so much about me that you don't care about that?" he says as he makes fake kissing noises to mock you. "Okay, shut up, dude. I have a free period next, but I know you don't, so wake up and get going." He yawns as he stands up, grabbing his bag in the process.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he says as he drags the 'r. ' You start to head towards the door before Gojo beats you to it and opens the door for you. "Ladies first." He winks at you while you give him a deadpan look, and despite your seemingly reactionless response, you can't help but feel the flutter that's caused in your stomach. Your own body is sabotaging you.
"Thanks," you mutter under your breath as you exit the class. "Since today is Friday, would you want to go to a cafe to try and finish the project?" Gojo asks, with a slight tint of blush covering his face; this also goes unnoticed by you once again. "Sure, just text me when and where." You turn towards him with a slight smile gracing your lips as you turn back around to start heading toward your own destination. Once you turned around, you couldn't help but smile a bit more, knowing this was just a study session, nothing more and nothing less, but you still couldn't help but feel a bit happy knowing he was the one who asked you.
It was finally the end of the day, and you were feeling eager, awaiting a text from Gojo. Yeah, you felt a bit silly waiting for him to text you, but you're just a girl. What? Can't a girl dream anymore? Call it delusions or whatever, but you noticed your feelings growing over time working with him. His small mannerisms rubbed off on you so much that even your own friends noticed. A vibration from your phone caused you to snap out of your thoughts and look at the new notification, only to find it was from Gojo, speaking of the devil.
(xxx)-xxx-xxxx: hey its gojo, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up right now and go to the cafe that's a couple blocks down?
y/n: yeah thats fine with me, meet me in front of school?
quickly saving his contact, you await his response, only for him to respond in a matter of seconds.
gojo: c u there :)
You checked the time; it was 3:25 as you started heading towards the front of the school from where you were originally. Trying to get there slowly so you can find Gojo first rather than him finding you.
You finally exit the school doors and find Gojo leaning on the wall right next to the doors. As you start making your way towards him, he looks up from his phone to look at you. "you ready?" He asks, the sun hitting his tinted lenses, making his eyes barely visible. "Yeah, which cafe are we going to? I didn't know there was one nearby.." "We're going to this small cafe by here; it's pretty good, but I've only been there once." You nod as you start to follow Gojo towards the cafe.
On your way there, you had small talk; there was silence, of course, but it was nothing uncomfortable—you welcomed that silence because it was nice. After awhile, you noticed it started getting cold. You started to regret not bringing a sweater to school today, as the winters were getting colder by the second. You started to slightly tremble, wrapping yourself in your own hands to try to create the warmth that you so desperately needed. Gojo noticed this and decided to take off his sweater and hand it to you.
“Here, take it.” His hand was right in front of you, with his sweater in hand. You wanted to wear it, but, I mean, hell freeze to death as well. “I can't; you’d be cold too, Gojo." You turn to face him with worry displayed on your face. "Nah, I’ll be fine; you need it more than me—I mean, you're practically shivering. The cafe isn’t that far, and I don’t want you to get sick 'cause we have to finish the project.” At this point, you both stopped in your tracks. A sigh left your lips as you took his sweater and put it on.
You let out a barely audible thanks to him; it would go unnoticed by those not paying attention—yet Gojo's attention was all on you, yet you never noticed.
“This is the cafe; it’s pretty small, but I think it's pretty good.” He winks at you, flutters erupting in your stomach, yet you think nothing of them. Just you wishing they’d go away. He goes to open the door for you, muttering a soft thanks under your breath as you enter.
You felt warmth immediately welcome you in this cafe; it was homey; it was particularly small, with open space and windows at the front of the cafe, with a table right by the window. It had a light brown interior with darker brown accents, with paintings and pictures adorning the walls. This and the green plants and flowers that were all over the corners and counters. It was, honestly, a very pretty and nice establishment for one so small.
“This is really pretty gojo; where do we sit?”
“We can sit by the windows; it's a nice view outside, so I think it’ll be nice.” You hum in agreement as you make your way to the table by the windows and place your things down. “Should we go order now?”
"Yeah, lets just look over the menu first before hand.” As you both looked up behind the workers counter to find the menu behind them, you were trying to figure out what to order before deciding to order a matcha latte and a chocolate croissant. You turned your attention towards Gojo to see if he was still contemplating what to order, only to find him thinking extra hard about his decision, finding it funny how the only time he pays decent attention is when it doesn’t regard any school work.
“You decided what to get yet?” You asked Gojo, "Uhhh… I think I might get some kikufuku and a hot chocolate; what about you?”
"Uh, I'm just going to get a chocolate croissant and a matcha latte.”
You both start heading towards the registers to order, with Gojo saying both of your orders. As the cashier starts to read out the cost, you reach into your pocket to grab your wallet, only for Gojo to beat you to it, paying for both of your orders. After the transaction, you both returned to the table to wait for your order to be called.
“Gojo, why’d you pay for both of us? I could’ve paid for my half.”
“It's fine; I mean, I was the one to offer to come here, so it is only a man’s obligation to pay.”
"Let me pay you back at least; I feel bad making you pay for my half." You frowned, feeling bad that he had paid for your order. "The way you can pay me back is for us to finish the project." He has that shit-eating grin on his face, the one he has on his face while poking fun at others. You grunt in response, reaching into your bag to take out your laptop to continue with your work.
"I was able to get some slides done from my part today, but you're gonna have to do a couple of the slides from your part.” As Gojo was about to speak, he got interrupted by the person calling our order.
“Order for Gojo!”
“I'll be right back.” Gojo grins at you. Your eyes follow his person as he walks up to the counter and gets your orders. You can clearly see the cashier trying to flirt with him, trying to make any advancements toward Gojo. You were glad you couldn’t make out what either of them was saying; you knew if you could, you’d get upset. Do you know why? Yeah, it was because you liked Gojo; it was clear now, and you hated it. It would have been stupid to get upset at a girl trying to flirt with him; I mean, you both weren’t even together. But you understood her; he was handsome, and she was also pretty. You were thinking that if you were as pretty as her, if you were that confident, maybe you’d have a chance with Gojo. caught up in your own thoughts that left a bad taste in your mouth, you didn’t realize Gojo was making his way back towards you. You were too busy being spaced out and caught up in your own thoughts, thoughts that you so very much hated.
“You good, y/n?” You were still spaced out, too focused on the worker behind the counter to realize Gojo. He cleared his throat; that was the thing that managed to catch your attention. "Huh?" You say, now staring at Gojo.
"I asked if you were okay; you were spaced out." "Oh, yeah, I'm okay. Did you get our order?" He nods at you while passing you your order as he places his down on the table by his seat. He takes his seat across from you and takes out his laptop as well, getting ready to "do" some work. (He won't do work.)
"We can probably finish a couple of more slides today, so we won't be behind on our work. We should probably do about two slides each? I think that would be good enough so we won't be behind." He hums in agreement, reaching for his hot chocolate to take a sip from.
"What even is this project about?" He says, taking another sip of his hot chocolate afterward. Your face goes blank at his idiocy; you honestly can't believe he got so far in high school. I mean, you were seriously doubting his abilities as of now.
"Are- Are you being serious?" You attempted to hold back your laugh at his simple idiotic actions, yet your attempt is in vain. You're now full-blown laughing, not even trying to hide how hysterical you find his stupidity.
"Oh my god— you're so hopeless!" You're holding your stomach in pain from your laughter; you can't even contain the tears from falling. Those tears of laughter basically taunt Gojo for his lack of intelligence. "What? It's not that funny." He huffs in an attempt to heal his bruised ego.
"Okay, I'll stop. I'm sorry, Gojo." You still had that grin on your face, although you were 'apologizing' for your actions. "We're just doing a group project about ideas for a new software application. Like doing research on our idea, putting down evidence on why this would be a good software idea, and explaining how it would help others. We have a doc that the teacher shared with us; did you not see it?" You ask, still having a grin plastered on your face from making fun of Gojo's lack of intelligence.
He scoffs, trying to play off the incident that just happened. "Yeah, of course I did; I was just seeing if you knew what we were doing." He attempted to gather whatever there was of his shattered ego, clearly and very painfully failing at this attempt as well.
"uh huh."
You grin at his antics, finding them quite funny—and quite endearing as well.
"Okay, well, we should get to work. Ask me if you have any questions or anything else. You have the shared in the gmail I sent you." You say, followed by you taking a bite out of your chocolate croissant, savoring the sweet taste of it. Gojo hums in agreement as quietness follows, both of you—well, at least you—in deep concentration on the work in front of you.
You didn't notice how much time had passed until you checked your phone; it was now 6:50, and it's gotten way darker than it was when you got to the cafe with Gojo.
You sighed as you ran your hands through your hair with a small "shit" muttered under your breath. Gojo caught your disturbance and looked at you through his tinted glasses. "What happened?" You hummed as you turned your attention to him. You nodded to the window, showing how dark it had gotten outside.
"I just noticed how late it is, and I gotta walk home too. I think I have to go home now before it gets darker." Gojo stands as he notices you standing as well, wrapping up your items and placing them into your bag. Going to throw away your finished drink and food before Gojo cuts you from your tracks.
"Let me walk you home; it's too dark for you to walk alone, y/n." You turned to face him, finding his eyes already on your figure. "You honestly don't have to; I'll feel bad enough for making you walk me home while you also paid for me."
"You're not making me walk home if I offered." He has that smirk on his face, the one he always has on. "You don't have to gojo, like, honestly." "Well, I want to, so let's get going; lead the way." You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder while grabbing your trash, as Gojo threw his a while ago. As you started making your way towards the door leading out, Gojo was there, holding the door open for you. Muttering a small thanks as you left the small establishment.
You started leading the way to your house; it was only about 10 minutes away from the school, so you started to head to your school and then to your house. Gojo is right next to you, him being the one that's closest to the road. As you reached the school, you realized you still had Gojo's sweater on, which he lent you on the way to the cafe. You felt a feeling crash over you, your cheeks growing a slight tint of color, although it was already flushed due to the cold—caught in your own silly thoughts of Gojo, all this because of a sweater he lent you. Just a kind action, nothing more, yet you can't help but be stuck in your own thoughts. You didn't realize Gojo caught onto your little actions—not your thoughts swooning over him, but your demeanor. Your reddened cheeks, being stuck in your own mind more and more often, and seemingly being in your own little world—in a kind and soft reverie.
His eyes were on you, hyperfocused on you and only you. Thinking you were some sort of angel only for him and nobody else, he knew that was false; you weren't his, but he wished you were. Time passed so fast with both of you stuck in a reverie of each other. You didn't even notice the fact you'd arrived at your home, only figuring you were there when you were right in front of your house.
You sighed as you saw the familiar figure of your home, signaling that you had no more time to spend with Gojo. Breaking the silence with you taking off his sweater and handing it to him.
"Thanks for walking me home, paying for my things at the cafe, and lending me your sweater, Gojo." A smile graced your lips as you recalled those events as you handed him his sweater back. Although they just happened today, you were already reminiscing about them. "Yeah, of course, y/n." You nod in his direction before remembering something.
"Text me when you get home, Gojo; make sure to be safe." He nods at your request before walking off to his house as you enter your own.
About 15 minutes later, you received a text from Gojo.
Gojo: i just got home rn
Gojo: i hope u enjoyed that cafe too
Grinning at his text was nice; although it was nothing special, it was nice knowing he remembered to text you when he got home.
y/n: i actually did enjoy that cafe a lot actually! it was nice, and again, thanks for paying for me
y/n: next time let me pay for both of us to make it up to u pls
Shit—you didn't mean to make that second text sound like that. Was that you coming off too hard? Does it make you sound desperate, wanting to have another study hall with him? Maybe he's going to find you strange for assuming there is going to be a next time? A thousand thoughts are racing through your mind at 100 miles per hour. You were getting anxious at what Gojo's reply was going to be; maybe he didn't see it like you're seeing it, and you're just overreacting.
Gojo: is this ur attempt at asking me on a date ;)
That fucking asshole, knowing him, this is a total him response.
y/n: fuck off bro, u wish i was
Gojo: yeah, i do wish u were asking me on a date.
Fuck. Is he being serious? Maybe you're just overanalyzing it; maybe he meant it as a joke, but that couldn't help your stomach erupt in butterflies. Suddenly, a confidence you didn't even know you had took over, deciding to play with this act of his cocky personality.
y/n: since im not asking you on a date, y dont u ask me on one instead?
Little did you know Gojo was going crazy behind his screen just like you; you felt like a teenage girl fawning over her first boyfriend. Gojo could be in the exact same predicament as well.
Gojo: hmmm, i guess ur right
Gojo: would u like to go on a date with me then, y/n?
You couldn't believe your eyes right now; things were happening way too fast. You couldn't even adjust yourself to how fast things were going. Well, technically, not fast, but seemingly fast enough for you to stress out.
y/n: sure then :)
y/n: lmk when and where?
Gojo: ill lyk then, y/n
You honestly couldn't believe your very own eyes. This felt as if it wasn't real, as if it was just one of your dreams where you got the boyfriend of your dreams.
December 16th
It was already December 16th, and you and Gojo had already finished your project. It was surprising, but you both started spending more and more time together after that study hall you had together. Today was also the date Gojo had planned; you were going to Gojo's house and watching shows, baking, and just spending time together. It was nothing big, but it didn't matter to you; as long as you were with Gojo, it felt like it was the best day.
You were getting ready for him to pick you up in his car; it was surprising when you first saw it until you remembered that his family was well off money-wise. You just wore some casual clothes, not trying to make it seem you were trying too hard. You were in your room waiting for Gojo's text, signaling that he was outside, ready for you.
Gojo: im outside :)
y/n: omw
You bid farewell to your family, telling them you'd be back later on and that you were going over to a friend's house. Leaving the front door of your house, you found Gojo waiting right in front of your house by the passenger seat, ready to open the door for you. As he saw you, he waved at you with a smile on his face.
"Thanks, Gojo," he said, smiling at him as he opened the door for you to take your seat in his car. He hums in response as he turns to go to the driver's seat. As the car sank with his added weight, he was making adjustments to the car's heater to make sure it was warm enough for the both of you.
A nice atmosphere filled the car as Surf by wave to earth was playing in the background, adding a calming sense to everything. It was a nice night out—cold, snowy, and calm. You hummed along to the lyrics, as this was one of your favorite songs by wave to earth. You remembered bringing it up to Gojo once; maybe that's why it's playing now. Maybe he remembered your favorite song and played it just for you.
As Gojo started to pull into the driveway of his house, he told you to wait in the car as he went to open the door. It was a cute action he took, always making sure to open doors for you—something you found endearing. As he opened the door, you thanked him for opening the car door for you.
"What do you wanna do first?" He asked, making his way to the front door with you following close behind him, making sure to walk carefully to avoid tripping on any of the ice. "Hmmm, wanna bake first?" you said, tilting your head at him, although he couldn't see you since his back was facing you. He hummed in agreement.
He went to the front door, taking out his keys quickly and opening the door, waiting for you to walk in first before he entered. Locking the door behind him and placing his keys on the small table by the door. Taking off his shoes as you followed suit and placing them on the shoe rack. You followed him as he showed you where the kitchen was.
"Do we even know what we're gonna bake?" smiling softly at the total clueless actions of the both of you, both of you getting too far ahead of the details in the excitement of today. "Oh, you're right." He deadpans, realizing his flaw in this plan.
"Uh, we can make brownies? I think I have a brownie mix around here somewhere." Scratching his head as he tries to remember where he last placed the brownie mix when he decided to make something sweet to tame his sweet tooth, only for him to figure out he was too lazy to make it for himself; he found this as the perfect opportunity to make it.
“Found it!” He exclaimed as his hand held the box of brownie mix. You smiled at his goofy antics—just anything he does you find cute. “What do the instructions say?” You asked Gojo as you rolled your sleeves up. "Uh, it's asking to preheat the oven to 350." He said, squinting at the instructions on the back while you hummed with his answer, you went to preheat the oven as he placed the mix down.
"What pan do we use?" You were asking as you started pressing buttons on the oven. "We can use this glass one." He said this as he was searching the cabinets for a good-sized container. Humming in agreement, you put the pan beside the oven. You went to grab the mix to read the next instruction. "We need two eggs, 1/4 cup of water, and… a half of oil. Could you grab me that?" He hummed as he went to the refrigerator to grab the eggs. Once he grabbed them, he placed them at the counter. He then grabbed the measuring cup, oil, and water and placed them beside the eggs.
"what's next?" He says this, looking over your shoulder, his breath hitting your ear. "We mix all the things together with the mix." Gojo hums going to grab a decent-sized bowl so everything can fit. Once he found one, he went back to you and placed it on the counter between you both.
"You get the eggs, and I'll measure out the oil and water." You said this as you started to pour the mix into the bowl. He began cracking the eggs on the counter and opening it above the bowl. The only thing he was doing wrong was getting a bunch of eggshells in the bowl. You caught him trying to take them out of your peripheral vision, so you turned your attention on him.
"Gojo, how did you manage to fail the most simple task?" A small smile was evident on your face, growing by the second into a full-blown smile, taunting him. "It's not my fault! The egg was being stubborn." He huffs, trying to convince himself more than you that the egg was why this happened. You sort of forgot Gojo was well off; that's probably why he's not that used to cooking for himself. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you big baby," you giggle at how he looks—as if he's trying to murder that egg for not "cooperating" with him.
After that, things went sort of smoothly. You guys put oil on the glass pan before spreading the brownie mix on the pan. As he was pouring the brownie mix into the pan, you were just watching him; he looked the most focused doing this. As if this is some really important life-or-death action—his tongue slightly sticking out, a habit you've seen him do more than once when he's deep in concentration. His brows were slightly furrowed, creating creases on his forehead between his brows, and his eyes were narrow and deep in concentration on the task at hand. Although he was doing the most basic task known to man, you thought he looked quite celestial to you, as if the gods had bestowed him on you and only you to view. As if he were an important painting made out of gold hanging in an art museum, only meant for your eyes to see and enjoy.
He noticed your quietness when he finished trying to spread the mix evenly. He thought maybe something was wrong, so he turned to glance at you. Only for him to find you staring deeply into his features as if he were food a starving man has been absent from. The thought of you being so caught in your own thoughts about him made him feel warm and flushed. His checks, proving this as a pink dusted his pale checks, adding some warmth to his features. He then turned back to the container of brownie mix he had long forgotten about when he caught you staring. He cleared his throat to try to calm down the sudden butterflies he felt just then.
This also seemed to snap you out of your thoughts as you turned your attention to the pan filled with brownie mix. As if on queue, the oven beeped to signal that it was done preheating and was ready for the dish.
"Are you done with the brownies?" tilting your head as you waited for his response. He let out a small "mhm" as if he didn't trust his own words right now. You went to grab the pan in front of him and placed it in the oven. You went back to your place next to him as you looked for your phone to place a 35-minute timer.
As you were going to grab your phone from its place on the counter, you dropped it onto the floor. You muttered a small fuck under your breath, wishing and praying it didn't leave any new cracks on your phone. As you went to bend down to grab it, you didn't notice how Gojo placed his hand on the counter corner to prevent you from hurting yourself on it.
"Ima set a timer for 35 minutes; you wanna watch a movie meanwhile?" Your phone is now in your hand as you stod up, looking for the timer app on your phone to set the timer on. "Sure, what type of movie?" He made his way to the living room as you followed him while setting the timer.
"Hm—how 'bout a Disney movie? You pick the movie, though." Gojo laughs at how you recommended a Disney movie. Sure, there's nothing wrong with that, but he expected you to say something like a horror movie; a Disney movie seemed out of character for you.
As you both sat down next to each other on the couch, Gojo started to scroll through the Disney+ account he had, looking through some options before he stopped at one. He picked Frozen to watch, and you weren't really surprised. You thought he gravitated to that movie because maybe he and Elsa were related; maybe they were both long-lost twin siblings.
As he clicked on the movie, he started to get himself comfortable on the couch; he seemingly fused with the couch. As the first couple of minutes started playing, you couldn't help but feel your eyelids get heavy and droopy. You felt yourself slip more and more into slumber, so you just laid your head on Gojo's shoulder to get more comfortable. You didn't think anything of it, but Gojo's mind was on fire right now, man. If you could look at him right now, his face was full of a flushed look just because of this small action.
Your breath started to slow down, your breaths becoming shallow, and Gojo realized you had given into your sleep. Gojo decided to get himself in a position where you wouldn't wake up with a sore neck and wouldn't be uncomfortable in your nap. Soft snores left your parted lips now, although you would've hated Gojo knowing you snore in your sleep. Gojo still can't help but find this cute and endearing. He felt almost proud? Proud in the sense that you felt comfortable enough around him to let your guard down and let yourself sleep on him.
A third of the movie passed when your alarm finally rang; you weren't awakened by it, though. Gojo reached for your phone and shut off your alarm as he slowly laid you down on the couch as he went to the kitchen to take the brownies from the oven. Once he came back from the kitchen, he found you sitting up, stretching your limbs as you yawned, rubbing your eyes after you were done with your quick stretch.
"How long was I asleep?" Your voice came out groggy with a light rasp to it, and your hair from the side you were lying on was slightly messy compared to the other side. "Like 30 minutes, I think? Maybe slightly less, but you knocked out after a bit of the movie." Gojo said as he made his way to you, sitting next to you.
"Shit, I'm sorry, Gojo." You yawned again, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. "Your fine, y/n. Are you still sleepy?" Gojo had a lopsided grin, and you clearly looked half awake. You hummed, and you scratched your neck. It seemed as if you just woke up from the best nap you've ever taken. Maybe it was the best nap you took. Maybe it was because Gojo was here with you.
"You wanna take another nap in my room? It'll be more comfortable for you."
"You sure? I don't want to intrude much."
"Why would I ask if I didn't mean it?" He chuckles. You always seemed to ask if he was sure about things he was clearly sure about. He stood up, waiting for you to follow him to his room on the second floor of his house. As you followed him close behind as he made his way up the stairs, once you reached his room, he opened the door for you. It was decorated with a light gray wash on the walls, wooden furniture adorning the walls for storage, and different-sized posters and paintings covering the walls. His room wasn't messy, but there were a couple of clothes piles on his floor. You felt as if his room was a great match for him and his personality, as if it suited him perfectly.
As you made your way to his bed, you shoved your face into his cold pillow, finding it comfortable and refreshing. "Hey y/n?" You hummed as you turned your head to face him. "Yeah?" "You wanna stay over?" You seemed stunned; you didn't really expect him to ask you that; you wouldn't mind staying over with Gojo.
"Actually?" "Of course, why would I ask you if I didn't mean it?" he smiles.
"Sure, I'll stay over, but I'm just going to let my family know." You reached into your pocket to find your phone to text your mom that you were going to stay the night at your friend's house. "Thanks for letting me stay over; your bed is way more comfortable than mine. I don't wanna let this opportunity slip by." Your voice coming out muffled due to your face being stuffed into his pillow again. You already claimed his bed even though it wasn't even yours. I mean, he was okay with it, of course; he's okay with anything if you ask.
"So you just decided to claim my bed?" "Hell yeah, this shit is way too comfortable to pass on, man." He grunts in reply, scooting you to the side as he lies next to you now. "What are you doing?" Your face is finally out of the pillow, and you are now looking at his face, which was staring at yours. "Well, this is my bed, is it not? I'm not gonna sleep on that floor, so you better make space on MY bed." You roll your eyes as your face goes back to laying on the pillow.
A few minutes go by before you start to slightly snore, your face facing Gojo. He felt like a creep; he was just staring at your sleeping figure, admiring you. Sure, it might seem creepy, but it wasn't intended to be creepy. He looked at your slightly parted lips, hair falling from behind your ear, how your chest went up and down with your breaths, and how you'd move slightly to get more comfortable every so often. He didn't even notice him dozing off into slumber as well, he was too focused thinking of you. You were on his mind as he was awake and now as he drifted to sleep.
It was now the next morning and gojo was the first to wake up. He woke up with you in his arms, he wondered if you noticed this too. He felt flustered as if he was just a prepubescent boy who just got their first girlfriend. He slowly removed his arms from your figure as he went downstairs to figure out what to make you and him for breakfast.
He knew he couldn't trust his cooking skills so he resulted to just order food for the both of you. He ordered you and him breakfast from some nearby fast food restaurant with a good breakfast. As he waited for the food to get here, you started to make your way down the stairs.
"Gojo?" Your voice comes out groggy and raspy. "I'm over here," Gojo says, his voice coming out loud so you can know where he is. You followed where his voice came from, finding him in the living room sitting down on one of the couches scrolling on his phone. He looked up from his phone taking in your barely awake appearance. "How did you sleep?" He asks, well based on your appearance you slept pretty well. "Hella good dude, your beds fucking comfortable." Yawning as you made your place next to him.
"By the way, I ordered some breakfast for the both of us," He tells you since he assumed that maybe you were hungry. "Really? Thanks, where did you order from?"
"I ordered from Dunkin', is that okay?" He hears an audible gasp from you. "Hell yeah, dunkin' breakfast is my favorite man." You had a grin on your face, clearly enjoying that he bought you food.
"What did you order?"
"I got you a sourdough sandwich and a matcha latte, is that okay?" That grin on your face only growing more, he assumed maybe because you liked the food he got you. "Oh my god, you're the best person to exist right now, that's literally what I always get." He laughs at this, glad he got you something you liked.
"I think the food should be getting here in like, 3 minutes?" Those 3 minutes went by fast as now you both were sitting in the kitchen enjoying your food. You looked as if you were starving by the way you were eating your sandwich, although you might've found it embarrassing how you were eating right now— he thought the opposite, he thought you looked quite cute.
As you both were finishing up your food and drinks, you thanked gojo for buying your food and persisted in paying him back. He, of course, denied your pleas. You sighed and gave up on begging him to let you pay him back.
You two were now relaxing in the living room, watching some random show on the television yet you two weren't really invested in it. You were both just having a conversation about anything and anything coming to mind. Amidst your conversation, Gojo brought up how you can just call him his first name, you agreed with this as you found it more fitting now. The room fills with both of your voices with occasional laughter erupting from both of you. Both of you clearly enjoyed each other's presence, whether it was quite or loud, you just enjoyed spending time with each other. As it became quite, you realized you should probably go home now. Sighing in realization you broke the silence.
"Hey Satoru, I think I have to head home now." You frowned slightly, not wanting to go home as you were spending quality time with him. Gojo hums in acknowledgment, feeling upset that he can't spend more time with you. Yet, he doesn't ignore the way his first name rolls off your tongue, as if his name was made for you to say. "Let me drop you off, y/n." You hum, knowing that if you protest, Gojo will ignore you. As you went to collect your things and put your shoes on, Gojo went to the garage to heat his car up. Once you were ready, you made your way outside to where Gojo was waiting for you.
He, of course, opened the door for you to enter his car. You told him your address as you were connecting to the speaker, which he told you to connect to. You decided to play Pyramids by Frank Ocean, a song you enjoyed and you were in the mood to listen to it. You were singing along to the lyrics as Gojo was too. You two were having fun, just singing together and talking when you weren't singing.
You finally arrived at your house when you thanked him and bid farewells to him, reminding him to text you once he got back home. You weren't sure how much time passed by when you got a text from Gojo telling you he was safe and sound at his place now. You were spending your time now sending texts back and forth to each other, texting turned into a call. Hours went by as you two were talking and laughing playing Roblox, making fun of some random kid, and praying your account wouldn't get banned the next day.
It was somehow night now, you both were still on call. You two didn't even realize how much time passed. You both basically spent the day with each other. Now here you are dozing off on the call together. It was cheesy, but it was cute. You liked spending this much time with him and so did he, he enjoyed spending this much time with you— he wished he could spend as much time with you as possible.
December 22nd.
It's been 6 days since your little date with Gojo. 6 days where you and him have gotten closer— his and your friends even noticing this. Teasing you both whenever they saw you together, which was most of the time. You both were basically inseparable, spending each available minute together. You spent so much time with each other that others thought you were already dating. Yet you weren't, yet.
You were now at Gojo's place once again in his room, lying in his bed as he was at his desk working on some homework he had for one of his classes. You were just scrolling on your phone trying to find something to do to cure your boredom. This was until Gojo started to spark a conversation with you. It was till the end of the conversation that Gojo finally found the confidence to ask you something.
"Hey y/n?"
"Yeah"
"I've been wanting to ask this for god knows how long because I'm so infatuated by you and everything about you. You make it impossible for me not to swoon over you, I've liked you for god knows how long, even before we started talking. You were just my hallway crush or something, but now, I want you to be something more. I just wanted to ask, I'm sure you got the gist of it but, could I be your boyfriend?" He's now sweating so much, you didn't even know it. He was flushed from head to toe, his palms were clammy, and he was on the brink of breaking due to his nerves.
While you, you were flustered. You knew that maybe eventually you'd end up dating, but you were still caught off guard. Who knew that your long-time crush was here confessing his undying love for you.
"Of course, Satoru. I've liked you too for god knows how much time, I was just scared to act on it. Although you were insufferable most times, that could never stop me from fawning over you at any given moment." You both now had a large grin on each other's faces, glad and released that you could get it out.
As of now, you both were on his bed enjoying each other's warmth and embrace. Talking to each other about anything that sprang to mind, you both were now in bliss realizing that you were both finally together. That you were finally his and he was finally yours, a thought that was always running through each other's mind.
December 31st.
You found it funny how just in a month, you got together. Well, of course, you talked before. But this month, it was more than before, you were constantly together. If not you were on calls, but on the rare occasion when either of you couldn't call— you'd be texting each other constantly. Spending each available minute together, something either of you wouldn't give up.
You two were now strolling around in the city, entering shops when you found something interesting that Gojo insisted on buying you. Hand in hand, gojo carrying the bags of clothes, trinkets, and items he bought you just because you spent a second too long looking at them.
You found it nice how the project was due at the end of the month, exactly tomorrow. Yet that project wasn’t the only thing that was progressing, it was also your and Gojo's relationship that went along as the days.
Now you were thinking that maybe that these cold winters weren't going to be as bad. Now you had someone to share it with, to be cold with, and to be warm with, you could be like those couples you were always envious and yearned for.
Maybe these cold winters will be enjoyable now.
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masterlist.
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kentumi · 29 days
Text
city of angels
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kagami taiga x reader
*+:.. b4 u read ... fluffy (?), gn friendly, college au (?), implied height difference between kagami n reader, barely proofread = a lil messy (;ω;)
a/n: waow i've never written something so happy this long before >< sorry if it's a little everywhere.. i'm not the best at writing fluff hu (◞‸◟) i feel like this had the potential to be wayy way way way way better ,, also.. i debated on making this a multi-chapter series? but i'm not sure if it's worth expanding on it so let me know wat u guys think in my inbox (づ_ど)
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los angeles.
new home, new beginnings. getting an apartment here definitely wasn't easy and barely made it within your list of "apartment requirements."
a wave of stress comes upon you as you arrive at the tenant's office. here to pick up your keys, you would officially start a new chapter. as you stand in front of the building, you second guess your decision on moving to the big city. in comparison to your previous place, the two heavily contrasted. since the beginning, you always held a fear that you wouldn't become accustomed to your new style of living here. within those fears, one of them stood out the most to you: making new connections.
"alright, just sign here.. and the keys are all yours," the tenant smiles. her smile is warm and welcoming. just what you needed.
"i'm assuming you've been to los angeles before, right?" she asks in attempt to ease your mood. the stress that resided in you could probably be seen from a mile away. however, you were too caught up in making sure that no mistakes were on the final paperwork.
"oh! uh- no, not really.. i decided to move here on a whim to start new and," your voice trails off. then it really sinks in; what kind of decision was it to move to a city that you've never been to before? that you knew barely anything about? you can feel the look she gives you without even turning your attention to her.
"well, i wish you luck on your journey. welcome to the city of angels," she smiles again. this time, her words catch you off guard. your eyes dart straight to her and she has the same warm smile on her face. in that moment, you realize that maybe, just maybe, things will be alright.
"yeah.. yeah! thank you!" you stutter. she drops the keys into your hands, and you're on your way.
"city of angels," you whisper to yourself. "i wonder if it lives up to its name." sure, the tenant herself was already an angel and already served the name right, but what's a city of them if there's only one?
making your way to your flat, you take notice to the athletic center of your complex. basketball, tennis, swim. there's a spot for almost everything. however, that grows out of your concern. the red-headed figure on the basketball court wounds up taking your full attention. several attempts were made to get a glimpse of his face, but the world only worked against you. back turned to you, you were only able to admire the passion in his movements across the court.
swinging the door open, you get a whiff of the freshly painted walls of your flat. your tenant had just been here assuring the final touches, which you had assumed since the kitchen lights had already been on. the empty space fully submerges you into your new reality, and you decide, it's time to get to work.
stumbling down the stairs and back into the parking lot, you make way to the moving truck. struggling to set up the ramp, you became convinced that dealing with the truck's contraptions was harder than trudging your boxes up the stairs.
a half hour passes, and you're whooped already. you've moved about four out of the fifteen boxes and you're also definitely at your limit. the workload had you debating on calling it a day and just sleeping on the floor with a sheet for the night.
"hey, you need some help?" an unfamiliar voice shakes you out of your thoughts.
whipping your head around, you're met with the chest of a stranger. and when you look up, your eyes meet with the eyes of the redhead from the basketball court. for some reason, a shiver makes its way down your spine. what was this feeling? you can tell he's shaken up too, eyes wide and jaw clenched.
he looks a little mean, but you can tell he's soft. his gorgeous face and impressive height held your focus for a little too long. you also take notice to the muscle he packs on his arms. the mystery man you were just admiring was now standing right in front of you offering.. help?
you stumble on your words, "oh! i mean, if you don't mind.." and before you knew it, the box in your hands disappeared.
"i can handle it. carry whatever's easiest," his voice was charming. fierce, yet kind. he was confident in his abilities, but not too arrogant. following that, you let him take over.
"you from around here?" he asks, breaking the silence. the two of you had been focused on not tripping up the stairs with your hands full.
"no, actually. it's my first time in los angeles," you smile to yourself. suddenly, living here didn't sound too bad. not if he was around.
your redheaded assistant exclaims out of shock, exhibiting the same reaction as your tenant but with his own twist, "well, i hope you come to like it here. it's a beautiful city, really."
you nod, and it goes silent again.
"what was your name? i didn't quite catch it before," you needed to know who he was. after all, he was your athletic center crush turned moving assistant.
" 'names taiga. taiga kagami," you can tell he's proud of himself. not in the sense that he was an arrogant loser, but that the journey connected to his name was all worth.
"well, it’s nice to meet you taiga. i'm y/n, and i am very grateful to be having you help me," you smile. it's obvious that your comment flusters him.
"mm," his shoulders are tense and his voice grows quieter than it was before. with that tough look on his face, you'd never think he'd become easily flustered like this.
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a few hours pass, and taiga places the rest of your stuff next to the front door, "you need help with anything else?"
"i think i'll be fine," you smile, "thank you again for helping me. i think i would've just given up on moving had you not showed up."
you find it cute the way he scratches the back of his head. a gentle giant, he was. and for a moment, you both steal a glance from one another. he plays it off, acting as if he was observing the room. the room grows silent once more, and you decide it's your turn to break it.
"oh yeah, i've been meaning to ask.. where's your place at? unless you're just here to use the courts," you joke, but he pouts.
"actually, i'm right across from you," it sounds like he takes pride in where he resides. right across from you. what a steal.
the way everything fell into place so perfectly had you starstruck. you couldn't believe that the man, who simply started out as a mystery crush, turned assistant, had now turned into the boy next door. or rather, across the hall.
shock made itself at home on your face. you were speechless, unsure on how to recover from this right in front of him.
"what a coincidence this must be then," you smile, trying to sound like what he just said didn't just send you through the roof. he smiles back, but this time, it feels more welcoming. the former desolation of your empty apartment becomes warm and you feel an invisible pressure lifted off of your shoulders. however, the feeling is all too familiar.
"well, i'll be across the hall if you ever need anything. just ring the doorbell and i'll get to ya," he shoots you another smile, and up and out the door he goes. at first, you debate on stopping him and offering to take him to eat out, but you decide you're not bold enough for that yet.
the evening replays in your mind as you hover over your kitchen counter. his kind nature paired with his athletic abilities topped with his physique had you absolutely whipped. you'd align him with your definition of angelic.
maybe los angeles truly was the city of angels, and taiga just so happened to find his way to you.
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ragnarokhound · 1 month
Note
((you don’t have to do both if you don’t want to, you can consider this one a back up / alt))
“If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.” 💞
From this writing prompt list i reblogged in...november lmao fljdsjfa
anyway this grew legs and sprinted away the second I picked it up yesterday - clearly it just needed some time to proof lmao. Thank you for the ask, tauria!! From *checks watch* almost 5 months ago fjdslafjsa I will be cross-posting it to Ao3 in my new oneshot collection fic :)
Warnings for: Vague allusions that Ra's Al Ghul is a creep (what else is new), threats of gun violence, canon-typical violence
15. “If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.”
When Tim arrived in Gotham this morning, he had no way of knowing that his day would end in Jason Todd’s bed. 
Frankly, he wasn’t really sure what bed he’d end up in— because his own certainly wasn’t an option right now. But If he had to pick, Jason Todd’s was somewhere near the bottom of whatever list he’d make.
He didn’t exactly plan on this, okay? 
But, uh. Let’s back up a little.
Tim knew his day was going to go to shit when he got back from the airport at 7 AM.
He had his driver drop him off two blocks away from his townhouse for the sake of caffeine at the hole in the wall place he likes. Wealthy CEO he may be, but a sixteen hour flight is still a sixteen hour flight and Tim is cursed with an inability to sleep in the air. 
Don’t ask. He’s tried. It doesn’t work.
So he wants coffee, and he wants a shower, and he wants his own bed. In that order.
With the first thing on his list acquired and blessedly burning his tongue, he managed to tug his brain cells together enough to realize that the building they’d passed that had been shrouded in tents and canvas was his building.
"What's going on here?"
The worker outside his building looks up from her clipboard, her face wrinkling into apprehensive confusion.
"Hello, sir. Can I help you?”
He hasn’t slept in roughly seventy two hours. He is not awake or patient enough for this.
“My name is Tim Drake. I own this building. What’s going on here?” He repeats.
The woman raises her eyebrows and looks down at her clipboard again. “Mr. Drake?” She questions, clearly expecting him to look like a grown-ass man and not a sleep-deprived college student coming home from spring break or whatever.
“Yes. Timothy Drake-Wayne. Why are you—” he tries to gesture with the hand still holding his suitcase handle, walking towards the tarps and tents erected around his townhouse with increasing trepidation, “—here?”
“I’m sorry sir, but you can’t go in there. Not for at least forty-eight hours.”
Tim stops in his tracks.
“Forty-eight—?”
“We've been scheduled to fumigate the property today.” She says it like she’s reading it out of a handbook. “It won't be safe to enter the building for at least forty-eight hours. You should have received prior notice. Uh. Sir.”
Tim's jet-lagged brain kicks into overdrive. 
Bruce hasn't made any disappointed noises about Tim’s perfectly normal work ethic lately so it probably wasn't a misguided attempt at benching him. And besides, rendering Tim’s apartment inaccessible is counterproductive on that front. 
Dick wouldn’t. They haven’t been exactly— great, lately but he wouldn’t. Besides, if he wanted to get Tim out of the house more, he’d show up to drag Tim out into the daylight himself. This is a little too roundabout for him.
It’s too much work to be Steph. She would think it’s funny, but there’s no way she’d follow through.
Damian might, but this doesn’t quite fit his preferred methods for making Tim’s life hell. It could be some cloak and dagger maneuver to leave him vulnerable, faking a complaint to the city so he’ll—
And then Tim thinks about the call.
The call he’d brushed off at fuck o’clock in the morning somewhere over Europe, too busy with another project. The call his secretary took for him instead. He thinks about the distracted confirmation he’d given to whatever it was she’d asked him about five minutes later. 
He also thinks about the form he signed about two weeks ago, before this last minute trip to Hong Kong had consumed his entire attention. The one with “Two Weeks Notice” stamped across the top. His stomach sinks.
“Today,” he repeats.
She looks apologetic. “Today,” she confirms. “And we just started about an hour ago. I’m very sorry, Mr. Drake-Wayne but—”
"No it's—" he says through gritted teeth, "fine. I'll just. Make other arrangements."
He does not make other arrangements. Though not for lack of trying.
Tim has a handful of safehouses scattered throughout the city. He has options. He gets a taxi to the closest neighborhood, and nearly falls asleep in the backseat. The cabby has to knock on the glass divider to get his attention when they come to a stop. He grumbles and hauls his suitcase out of the backseat, and tips the man excessively.
Shower. Bed. Sleep. He’s so close he could cry.
Except when he finally rolls around the block, coffee half gone and trying to remember if this safehouse is the one with in-unit laundry or if he’ll have to haul his shit down to the laundry room, his building is a blackened husk with police tape all around it.
He stops on the sidewalk. He peers up at the window of his unit, squinting at the peeling black wood and shattered glass. He ponders whether two is enough data points to be considered a pattern. And whether he could get away with napping in the alley on this street or if that’ll end with him stabbed and robbed.
As he’s pondering, he catches sight of a passerby and stops him.
“‘Scuse me,” he says apologetically. “What the hell happened here?”
The guy looks up from his phone and takes in his rumpled clothes, his suitcase, and the scorched remains of his apartment.
“Oh, uh. Yeah, there was a big fire about a week back? Bad fire. Took out, like, half the block. Cops are saying it’s arson.”
“A week ago,” Tim repeats. The guy’s eyes widen.
“Oh shit, bro, did you live here?”
“I’ve been out of town,” he explains numbly.
“Dude, that sucks. And right in the middle of con’ season. Good luck finding a hotel!”
“Yeah,” Tim sighs as the guy walks away. “Thanks.”
The next safehouse he tries isn’t in much better shape. 
He remembers hearing about Freeze going on a rampage a few days into his trip, but he hadn’t realized another one of his places had been caught in the cross-fire. The cold burst the pipes, and now the whole place is undergoing renovation.
He hears all this from the crotchety old lady who lives in the next building over (her building needs renovation too, but will the city pay for it? Of course not, they weren’t ‘directly impacted by disaster’ so they won’t see a penny of relief funds even though their pipes are on the same line. Typical) and when he finally extricates himself from the conversation, it’s almost noon, his second cup of coffee is long-since empty and he’s at the end of his goddamn rope.
By the time he sees his next safehouse, he isn’t even surprised anymore.
“Does God hate me?” He asks the boarded up building. “Is this a punishment? What did I do? What the fuck did I do?”
He is 99% sure at this point that someone is burning his bolt holes. There’s a short list of people with the resources and the intel to do it, and while he’s not above ruling out the likes of Damian just yet, he seriously doubts anyone wearing a bat is behind this. 
Besides, Dick would have noticed by now if Damian were sinking this many resources into convoluted covert ops designed to make Tim suffer. Definitely. Probably.
Fuck it.
He goes around the back and hops on top of his suitcase to reach the clunky camera watching the back entrance. This building is on the shittier side, closer to Crime Alley than his other haunts; cameras break all the time around here. He’ll have it replaced after he’s a functional human again.
Reportedly, this building was tagged for ‘high toxicity levels’—  which is pretty typical for any building where fear toxin or Joker gas are found in any amount. They must have found a lot to condemn the whole building, but Tim is confident he’ll be fine. The airborne shit dissipates to safe levels within hours depending on the ventilation. If it was in the air, it’s long gone. Anything else needs to be injected to be effective.
Once the camera’s busted, he kicks out the boards and heads inside.
He drags his suitcase in after him, and mourns the shower he probably won’t be getting. The hall lights are out, and chances are the water’s been shut off along with the electricity. But at this point, he simply does not give a shit. All he wants are four walls and a mattress.
Leaning on the door to his floor to make it open, he stumbles out into the hallway—
And catches sight of the glistening curved dagger stabbed into the wall next to his door, the hilt gleaming green in the sinking sun.
“Nope,” Tim says, spinning on his heel and going back down the stairwell double time. “Nope, nope, nope.”
He is now 100% certain that the League of Assassins has been burning his bolt holes. Ra’s al fucking Ghul can eat his whole ass.
Seven blocks away, Tim sits on the sidewalk in front of a bodega and contemplates a third cup of coffee. The shittiest one yet.
See, here’s the thing.
The thing is, he has options.
He could go to the Manor. Or the penthouse. Or to Steph’s place. He’d have to answer some unnecessary questions like ‘Master Timothy, you know you can’t sleep on aircraft, why didn’t you sleep before your flight’ or ‘Tim, why didn’t you come here first, you know you can still come to me if you’re in trouble, right’ or ‘why did you agree to fumigate your fucking house, you loser, lmao’. (Stephanie is not going to let him live this down). 
He is absolutely certain that he would be welcomed in any of these places and after a completely undeserved amount of fussing, he could take a fucking nap and someone else would deal with the League bullshit for him.
And that’s the thing. There’s the rub.
No one should have to deal with the League bullshit for him. This is his problem. He’s not in a hurry to bring them down on anyone. Not even Damian.
With grim resignation, he reaches for his phone to try and find a hotel room (during a con’ weekend apparently, RIP) and maybe get a fucking handle on this whole stupid thing, when he hears:
“Hand over your wallet!”
He lifts his head slowly and finds himself looking down the barrel of a gun. A gun held by some guy wearing a ski mask in broad fucking daylight. There’s another guy next to him who’s watching the street. There’s a third guy somewhere behind him who he can’t see, but he can hear the scuff of his boots.
Sure. Why not. With the day he’s had, this might as well happen. He holds up his hands placatingly.
Tim contemplates his muggers. The guy with the gun is jittery, probably new to this, or hopped up on something. He keeps glancing between Tim and the bodega behind him, so they were probably planning a run on the till. Might have chickened out, or thought Tim was an easier target, an unexpected meal ticket plopped right in their path. Or they were already inside when Tim sat down, which wouldn’t bode well for his situational awareness seeing as he just came out of there himself.
The grinding gears of his tired brain keep getting caught on the fact that this is happening in the middle of the fucking day. Tim glances at the street corner and bites his cheek in frustration. Yeah, he’s smack dab in the middle of the Alley. Figures.
“Are you deaf or somethin’ man?” The guy with the gun is saying. “Hand over your fucking wallet!”
The other guy doesn’t seem as crazy-eyed. He’s nervous, though. He keeps looking around like he’s expecting Batman to materialize, to come whistling down the street like a beat cop.
“Dude, come on, it’s not fucking worth it,” he says, grabbing at the gunman’s shoulder. “We got the money, let’s fucking go.”
The third guy kicks over Tim’s suitcase. “Yeah, come on, Don, let’s just grab this shit and bounce.”
Tim can’t do anything. He’s not Red Robin right now. He’s Timothy Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and he’s getting mugged in front of a bodega at two in the afternoon in a rumpled suit and tie and still toting his suitcase from his early morning flight. 
His hands are trembling from unspent adrenaline, too much caffeine, and not enough sleep. His eyelids are the heaviest they’ve ever been in his godforsaken life. His ears are ringing. He could knock all three of them down in less time than it takes to tie his shoelaces. But he can’t.
“Shut up, Johnny, look at him shaking! What’s he gonna do? If he doesn’t wanna get shot, rich boy’s gonna hand over all his fucking shit!”
“Hey, let’s just—” Tim tries to say.
Stars explode across his vision as Tim takes a punch he genuinely wasn’t expecting. He stares up at the blue sky for about half a second, more confused than anything else, before the gunman grabs him by the front of his shirt and hauls him up to shout in his face.
“What’s it gonna be, pretty boy?!”
Caught on the exhausted edge between vigilante training and the preservation of his identity, Tim is frozen. He doesn’t know what to do. He kind of wants to cry.
“Gee, Donny, what is it gonna be?” A fourth voice says, full of false cheer.
Tim blinks. So do the muggers. 
He knows that voice.
“Who the fuck—?” The gunman drops Tim, spinning around and into a fist. He tumbles down to the ground, out cold.
Everything happens pretty quickly after that.
Jason Todd is in civvies. He’s sporting a worn out looking hoodie and a pair of jeans that have seen better days. But his heavy boots are the same ones he wears for his uniform, and the kick he delivers to Johnny’s face is all Red Hood.
Almost in a daze, Tim watches him fight with the usual mix of seething envy and raw desire that rears its ugly head any time he gets to see Jason in action. He’s fast, decisive. Efficient. Beautiful. Tim wishes he had Jason’s skill. And he wishes— 
Well. He wishes a lot of things about Jason Todd.
Tim is pretty sure he and Jason are friends. Maybe. Probably. They’ve pretty much moved past the whole “replacement”, “zombie-dickhead” part of their relationship and have graduated to occasionally providing backup on ops that overlap in each other’s sectors, ganging up on Dick when they’re all in the same room, and maintaining a surprisingly steady stream of vigilante gossip to keep each other in the loop. 
So, ok, yes, due to the aforementioned, he’s pretty sure they’re friends. And also because Jason wouldn’t have stuck his neck out for him otherwise. He would have just let him get mugged.
Watching Jason fight is one of Tim’s favorite pastimes. But right now, Tim’s usual appreciation is soured by the gut-roiling embarrassment of being caught in this position by Jason of all people. His eyes itch. His cheek throbs. He’s so fucking tired.
“Hey, little stalker,” Jason says suddenly, holding out an expectant hand in Tim’s face. The muggers are groaning on the ground around them. Tim isn’t sure when that happened. He might have zoned out. “Did you know that you had a stalker for a change?”
Tim flushes. “I resent that. I haven’t stalked anyone in years.” He takes the hand. It’s warm, and calloused, and big around his.
Jason laughs at him and yanks him to his feet. “Liar.”
Tim’s mouth twists into a scowl. He tries to glare at Jason, but he can feel himself swaying and Jason still hasn’t let go of him, and it’s ruining everything.
Also, lowkey, Jason is right. But in his defense, it is literally their job to stalk people, so.
“I haven’t stalked you in years then. Just other guys. Bad guys. Not non-bad guys. Fuck. You know what I mean. Whatever.” He pauses; recalibrates. “Had?” He asks.
Jason’s eyebrows inched higher and higher the longer Tim talked. Tim doesn’t blame him.
“Yeah. Had.” 
So much for the League, Tim muses.
Jason gives him a once over before tugging decisively on Tim’s wrist, easily grabbing the handle of his suitcase and starting to walk with both in tow, to Tim’s rising horror. 
“You’re coming with me, shortstack. What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk? You look like shit.”
Tim tries to yank his wrist out of Jason’s grip, but the asshole doesn’t budge. “I’m not drunk,” Tim snaps. “I’m fine. I’m just. I’m just… really tired.”
Jason stops abruptly, and Tim stumbles into his shoulder.
“I can see that,” he says, steadying Tim with an amused but ultimately sympathetic look. He loads Tim’s suitcase onto the back of a motorcycle that Tim literally just now noticed. 
God, he’s fucked. And not even in a fun way. 
“C’mon,” Jason says. “Don’t fall asleep on the way over— road rash sucks ass.”
They don’t talk on the way to— wherever Jason is taking them, but once they’re parked in a random garage and walking towards the elevators, the game of twenty questions begins.
“So why’ve you got League assassins after you, anyway? Piss in a lazarus pit? Push over the baby brat on the playground?”
“Ra’s al Ghul wants my body,” Tim says, dejected but resigned to this bizarre fact of his life. “Since I was seventeen, I’m pretty sure.”
Jason wrinkles his nose. “Ew.”
“I don’t think it’s a sex thing? But it could also be a sex thing.”
“Again. Fucking ew.”
“Yeah. Also I blew up a bunch of his shit and I think he’s still salty I got away with it.”
“Is that why you weren’t at the Manor?” Jason asks, herding Tim out of the elevator and down a long hallway. “Or anywhere but a random street in Crime Alley?”
Tim nods. “Yeah. They found all my safehouses, but— my mess. My problem.”
Jason thwacks him upside the head.
“Ow! What the fuck?”
“You’re the dumbest person on the planet.”
“Am not. B is on-planet right now.”
“Then you’re pretty fucking close,” Jason snarks, fishing out some keys and opening one of the apartment doors.
Tim scoffs at him as he’s pushed inside. “Oh, please. Don’t try to tell me you would let Dick swoop in and solve all your problems for you.”
Jason rolls his eyes, stepping into the side kitchen and popping open the freezer door of the fridge.
“Dickiebird can’t even solve his own problems,” he says as he rummages. “But maybe when I’m fucked up enough to let three nobodies robbing a fucking bodega get the jump on me, that’s a sign that, maybe, it might be time to call in the cavalry. Dick isn’t the only person who’s got your back.” He presses an ice pack to Tim’s face until he takes it himself, and keeps steering him through the apartment. “Just saying.”
Tim would protest with all of his very good reasons why Jason is definitely wrong here, but he’s too busy processing the fact that Jason has led him into a bedroom. With a bed. There’s a bed, with a mattress and pillows and blankets. Right there. Tim stares at it with lustful eyes.
Jason catches him staring. He rolls his eyes, but he’s sporting a small smile that Tim has the presence of mind to memorize. He walks over to a dresser and pulls out a big shirt and a pair of shorts that he hands to Tim.
“Look. If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here. No guarantees I’ll be always around, but, yeah. Mi casa es su casa, or whatever.”
Tim eyes him up, clutching the bundle of Jason-smelling fabric in his hands. “And you’d do that for me because…why, exactly?”
Jason flicks his forehead, a stinging reprimand. Tim hisses.
“Because, dumbass, you need help and I feel like it. And you don’t actually suck to be around, so shut up and be grateful.”
“Oh, yes,” Tim deadpans, rubbing at his forehead. “So grateful to be allowed the privilege of squatting with you.”
The thing of it is, Tim is grateful. But Jason doesn’t need to know that.
Jason squawks, and before Tim can duck, he’s snatched Tim around the neck in a headlock. His arm is thick and doesn’t budge no matter how Tim shoves and kicks. The ice pack and the clothes go flying, and Tim just about dies. Jason is warm.
“Jason—!”
“Brat!” Jason crows, not giving an inch. “I paid for this place fair and square— you’re the only squatter here!”
“Blood money doesn’t count as square!”
“Tell that to half of Gotham, kid.”
“I’m trying to, thanks for noticing,” Tim says, finally wrenching himself free of Jason’s grip, stumbling into the bed and giving into its siren song. He sits down heavily on the edge, toppling over sideways and reaching pathetically for the fallen ice pack that’s just out of his reach.
“And don’t call me kid—” he complains, muffled by the pillow. It also smells like Jason. “You’re barely two years older than me.”
The cold ice pack is pressed into his fingers. He cracks an eye open to look, but Jason is just smirking at him, like he’s giving Tim the win. Ass.
“Coulda fooled me, shortstack.”
Tim rolls his eyes, and onto his back, toeing off his shoes and letting them clatter to the floor. He can’t tell if Jason’s bed is the best bed in the world, or if he’s just deliriously inventing things.
Frankly, Jason Todd’s bed is the last place he ever thought he’d end up, this morning or otherwise, so he’s never bothered to speculate. He does not have a contingency plan for this.
“Is there a reason you keep calling me short,” he complains, “Or will I just need to fill in the blanks myself?”
“Can’t help it. You’re just so small,” Jason coos. Tim props himself up on an elbow at that, raising a disgusted eyebrow.
“You don’t hear me constantly talking about how big you are.” 
Jason grins like he just won the lottery; Tim shuts his eyes the second it’s out of his mouth.
“Baby, you don’t know how big I am.”
He does, actually. Not in a creepy stalker way, just— there was this one time. A big rogue breakout at Arkham, all-hands on deck type of situation; Tim, Cass, and Jason were covering Poison Ivy in the park. Acid-spitting pitcher plants were involved.
And look, Jason’s tactical gear is fine in the day to day, but it’s not like any of them had time to prep a neutralizing agent, so when Jason needed his pants off, stat…uh. Well. Tim was right there.
He knows, okay?
“Alright,” he rallies, trying desperately not to replay the memory of Jason adjusting himself through his boxers. All of himself. “I walked right into that one.”
“Oh, trust me. You’ll know if you’ve walked into it.”
Tim scoffs, but he can feel how red his face is.
And the thing is. He says it without really meaning to. 
But he still means it.
“You gonna put your money where your mouth is, big guy?”
The change is immediate. Jason had been halfway out the door, but now he turns to Tim, giving him his full, undivided attention. He looks at Tim, laid out in Jason's bed, giving him a very slow once over. The scrutiny is at once nerve-wracking and thrilling.
“Thought you didn’t want my money,” Jason murmurs.
The temperature in the room spikes. If it weren’t for the slow throb of his bruised cheek, Tim would think that he’s already asleep and dreaming.
But he isn’t. He’s very much aware that he’s wide awake.
Tim swallows. “Well. It’s not your money I want.”
Jason’s grin is electric. 
He stalks over to the bed, and Tim is frozen like a rabbit, waiting to see what he’ll do next. Jason settles a knee on the sheets between Tim’s legs, looming over Tim and boxing him in against the mattress. Tim’s free hand reaches up of its own accord to tangle in the collar of Jason’s hoodie, and the cotton is softer than he expected.
Jason’s eyes rove over his face, dark and heavy. He catches Tim’s face in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across the bruising hot ache of his cheekbone. He leans in deliberate and slow and—
—and stops about an inch away from Tim’s mouth.
“Get some sleep, babybird,” Jason teases, his breath puffing gently over the skin of Tim’s lips. “You can proposition me again tomorrow.”
“It’s, like, 3:30 in the afternoon,” Tim argues, breathless.
“Yeah, and your body thinks it’s 3:30 in the morning. You’re dead on your feet. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, and go the fuck to sleep.”
Jason moves to rise. But Tim hooks a stubborn arm around his neck and pulls him down that last remaining inch. 
The kiss is— bad. At first. 
Tim basically smashed their mouths together to prove a point, and Jason muffles a surprised sound against Tim’s teeth. He lands heavily on top of Tim at an awkward angle, and he’s kind of crushing him. Tim refuses to let go, but— Jason doesn’t pull away.
Jason gentles the kiss instead, and Tim thrills. He levers himself up onto his elbow, wrapping an anchoring arm around Tim’s back. He finds a home between Tim’s legs, and he lets Tim kiss him until Tim's lips are tingling and his fingers go slack; until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.
Somewhere between fifteen minutes and a small eternity later, Jason presses one more kiss to the corner of his mouth. He curls around Tim on his side, and Tim turns his face into Jason’s neck with a soft wondering sigh.
“I’ll keep it. Promise. Wait n’ see,” Tim mumbles. Jason snorts, but doesn’t budge, and Tim can hear his smile in his voice, lilted and lulling.
“Sure, babybird. I’ll wait. I got nowhere else to be.”
Tim is already asleep.
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whatyadrawin · 2 months
Text
The Fruit After the Flesh 18+ -Chapter 9-
Minors DNI!
Masterlist
Approximately 4,872 words
Pairing: Thomas Hewitt (Headcanon) x AFAB reader
This chapters Warnings:  Sexual language, foul language, scary moment. This is Slasher smut, be mindful of that and use your discretion.
A/n: This chapter took me so long to complete! I had to read over it and edit like four times. I took 48 hrs to make all the art pieces starting from 3pm march first until 6am march second, took a nap, started back up to finish the art at 2:30pm and finalized EVERYTHING for upload at 6am March 3rd. I'm tired bro, I got so carried away with the art I really should have cut it down to just 3 images but artists always suffer for their passion, it's our curse. Let me know if you want to be in the tag list. I update chapter progress on the masterlist whenever something changes.
Please enjoy this chapter! I worked very hard on it so reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated very much.
Tag List: @fan-goddess , @artxasa
Chapter 9 
               The days at the Hewitt house went by slow as molasses, within these dragging days a construction crew had arrived and began repairing your home. They worked quickly and made a lot of headway which is unusual for contractors, the team seemed eager to leave for some unspoken reason. The foreman said that in one month, you would get your home back; you were excited to have your life get back on track despite enjoying your time at the Hewitt house. You made sure to water and trim the fruit trees so that they didn’t overgrow or die, since Dover was still missing, all the responsibility was left up to you. There was so much work to do but you were happy to be able to contribute your time to the property. In the passing days you didn’t see much of Tommy, he seemed preoccupied and was frequently away from the farm which only made the days last longer for you.
Half past 4pm, the day was really wearing on you and the sun was getting low in the sky so you decided to leave the orchard and head back to the Hewitt house to rest. On your walk back, you think about Tommy’s room and what it must look like, when you saw the door under that menacing red light it was simultaneously both frightening and intriguing.
The basement was such a dark and quiet place, so spacious and empty; You remembered that room with hooks that Tommy swiftly prevented you from exploring, your curiosity grew when he spun you around and slammed the door shut. This family has a mysterious history to you, the mention of them allegedly eating people weighed heavy on your mind -can I really get past the fact that they might have been cannibals? – it felt easier to gaslight yourself into thinking everything was fine, so you ran it out of your head.
When you arrived at the house, you make your way through the parlor and see Luda Mae sitting on the couch in the living room. She was reading a romance novel with a muscular, golden-haired man on the cover, it was reminiscent of the classics you had seen in your grandmothers closet as a kid. She sees you and places the book down to the side hurriedly as if she was ashamed of what she was reading,
“I-uh-ahem” She stuttered,
You smile politely “Reading anything good?”
She laughs, “Yeah, this one’s real saucy too. Thought I might get lost in it for a while.”
You felt bad for interrupting her, “Well don’t let me stop you, I’m just heading over to my room for some rest before dinner.”
she replies, “Oh, shoot that reminds me, best get dinner started now.” Luda Mae gets up with a groan and starts walking towards the kitchen.
“Time really does fly by when you find a good book.” She laughs as she passes.
You go to your room and get yourself changed and freshened up before dinner, you didn’t want to be around everyone while having the sweat of farmwork still lingering. You put on a comfortable pair of black tights and a white tank top which matched the white walking shoes you slipped on your feet.
When dinner was ready, you left your room to meet with the Hewitts at the dining table. The scent of roast chicken and baked corn wafted into the room, you were starving from having worked all day. Charlie was already sitting at the table when you arrived, he looked at you and said,
“Didja see the progress on the house?”
You take a seat, “Yeah, it’s coming along really fast, I’m surprised.”
He laughs “Don’t be, that crew probably knows this area ain’t so safe for ‘em. They’re smart, gonna get their paycheck and fuck off.”
You furl your eyebrows, “Why isn’t it safe for them?”
“Ah- Uh...” Charlie stopped himself when he caught a glare from Luda Mae from the kitchen,
“Well, what if they were to get hurt hm? Ain’t no hospital nearby or nothin’” he looked pleased with his answer.
You reply, “That’s a good point I guess.”
You know there is something more to what he said, but you didn’t want to push him. Luda Mae brought in the food, placing it all on the table followed by a big jug of ice-water, she groaned as she sat down; Tommy however, was missing tonight and you were worried,
You ask, “Where is Tommy? Is he not eating?”
Charlie laughs “That boy not eat? Maybe when hell freezes over after pigs fly n’ the fat lady sings.”
A devilish grin forms on his face before he turns to Luda Mae and says,
“Hey Luda, get the ball rollin’ n’ start singin’, then when the pigs grow wings Satan’s ass’ll turn to ice and the boy won’t be eatin’ us outta house n’ home no more.”
Luda Mae just rolls her eyes, she turns to you and says,
“Don’t worry hun, Charlie brought somethin’ to him so he don’t starve out there.”
You push for more info, “He’s been so busy lately; I feel like I never get to see him anymore. Where is he anyway?”
Charlie grabs a chicken leg and bites into it, he starts speaking with his mouth full,
“He’d shred us in half if we toldja. He’s been workin’ real hard though, wants to show you what all he’s been doin’ tonight”
Charlie swallows his food and continues, “He’s got a big ole’ hard on for you girlie, you better not be trailin’ him along fer nothin’, or he might lose it.”
Luda Mae whips her dishcloth at Charlie, who just smiles and winks at you. Luda Mae looks at you and says,
“Hope you get used to this foul-mouthed pig here, I might die from having to apologize on his behalf all darn day.”
She shakes her head at him and follows, “Thomas wants to meet up with you after you’re done eatin’. He wants to show you what he’s been workin’ on.”
Charlie pipes in, “Yeah, I bet he wants to show you somethin’. Probably whip out the fuckin’ anaconda he’s hidin’ down there. For an ugly motherfucker he sure was blessed. God is a real shit heel for that one.”
You squint your eyes at him, and he continues,
“He used to bathe outside when he was a youngin’ but once he grew up a bit the bulls started feelin’ emasculated.” Charlie starts laughing hysterically.
Luda Mae hides her face in her hands, she yells out,
“Why’r you talkin’ bout my boy’s privates like that!? You tryin’ to make us all upset?”
Charlie is now red in the face from laughing, he gets a sick pleasure in making people uncomfortable, but if anything, it just made you unbearably curious. You caught a glimpse of his erection when you watched Tommy run from you at the pond, it was greatly obscured but from what you could see, it was huge; You were able to feel the size and firmness of it in the laundry room, which factualized Charlies words.
He looked over at you, his eyes were watery from laughing so hard, he says,
“I’m sorry honey buns, but you need to be warned before you let him stick that goddamn two by four in ya.” He continues to laugh while he shovels corn into his mouth. You were still not used to his outlandish way of conversation and it made you blush.
The rest of dinner was mostly just Luda Mae trying to keep the subject matter light and Charlie giggling to himself. Once you cleared the table and packed away the leftovers, Luda Mae guides you to the door and says,
“Go wait for him by the silo, he’ll take you to his surprise. I hope you like it dear.”
The sun was now deep on the horizon which was losing its rosy hue, twinkling planets were already visible and the moon was following the dark part of the sky. You see Thomas leaning against the silo, he had one hand in his pocket and the other was fiddling with some wheat from the field to check the progress of the crop. He was wearing a very loosely fit tank top that looked old and worn, his pants were a pale blue jean with dirt and other stains scattered all over, he was still wearing his working boots which means he must have completed this surprise only today.
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He looks up from what he was doing, when he sees you, he stood up straight, dropping the wheat to the ground. You could tell he was smiling, his deep blue eyes squishing upward gave it away, this made you smile wide as you felt knots form in your stomach. You felt like you hadn’t seen him in forever, time away really does make the heart grow fonder, it was agony not being able to spend time with him. He extended his hand to you and when you placed your hand in his and realized how small you really were compared to him, you felt like you could only hold onto two of his fingers while he could easily cover more than just your hand with his.
He looked at you and carefully pulled you toward the forest,
“Where are we going? It’s dark in there, sort of scary, isn’t it?” You were hesitant to be going into a dark forest as the sun was rapidly losing its light, he looked at you and tilted his head to the side,
“I’m here” he said calmly.
His voice was so deep and reassuring. You rarely ever hear him speak, so it felt like you won the lottery whenever he did utter out anything. He was walking slowly, he made sure to accommodate the vast difference in gait you both had by staying behind you, he guided you by gently moving you in the right direction with his hand on your shoulder. Even though you were nervous about the darkness of the forest, you felt safe with Tommy close to you. He was so large and unbelievably strong that there was no way harm could come to you.
Suddenly, Tommy stopped and turned you around to face him, he took your hands and covered your eyes with them, you couldn’t help but smile. He put his hand on the middle of your back to guide you further in, you trusted that he would ensure you don’t trip and fall. The ground went from dirt and crunching leaves, to soft grass, then a hard flat surface. Each step you took made a hollow wooden noise as if you were at a harbor. Tommy stopped you and moved your hands from your eyes. You looked around and gasped, you were on a dock that sat on top of the pond.
The moon was already shining a bright light on the water making it look like glass, the stars that now shone in the night sky were reflecting off the surface and turned the pond into what looked like a portal into space. The gentle croaking of frogs created a peaceful ambience, and as you walked further onto the dock you saw some wooden chairs to relax on, one was much larger than the other.
“Did you make all this?” your voice was exasperated with awe.
Tommy nodded again and pointed at you,
You smiled “You made this for me?”
He nodded again and went to sit on the largest chair, he tapped his hand on the other chair to get you to sit with him. You sat down and the deep seat forced you to recline which was relaxing.
“I’ve never had anyone do something like this for me. Thank you, Tommy, you’re such a thoughtful man.”
Tommy looked at you and nodded slowly, he made an approving ‘hmph’ noise, he felt good about pleasing you. The heat tonight was thick, it made your skin sticky with sweat, and you could see a slick shine on Tommy’s arms and chest. You get up from the chair to put your hand in the water, testing its temperature, small fish reveal themselves as they flash in the moonlight. You stand up and remove your shoes, Tommy stands up nervously and you giggle,
“Don’t worry, I won’t take off my shirt or underwear. It’s too hot to just sit down when we have the most immaculate natural pool right under our feet.”
You slowly take off your tights and fold them neatly on top of your shoes, the black thong you had underneath did nothing to conceal your feminine shape; Tommy turns away from you, staring off into the sky in an attempt to avoid gawking at you. It was amusing to you since he already saw most of your body the first time you were in the pond. You slowly lower yourself into the cool water of the pond, its cooling temperature feels like heaven.
Tommy heard you get in and slowly turns around to see you on your back, floating gently with the moon’s reflection circling your body, you looked like a goddess. You saw that he was just standing there watching you, you swim up to the dock and put your arms on the edge, you say,
“You know, you don’t have to just watch me.”
Seeing him act so shy was strange, a polar opposite of the last time you were both in the laundry room where he made no qualms of pushing himself up against your clothed pussy with his dick begging for entry. You watched as he took off his clothes, throwing them sloppily next to your neatly folded pile. You were annoyed that he was wearing black boxers which concealed the shape and size of his package too well, but being able to see his body almost completely unclothed was still enough to have you biting your lip in excitement.
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Tommy had very long legs which were complemented by his thick thighs, his butt was muscular from having to haul his hefty body weight all over the farm. His torso was exactly as you pictured it, he had heavy muscle underneath a layer of fat that softened any sharp edges and did nothing but add mass to his already impressive size. His pecs were large and heaved with every breath he took, a smattering of soft hair covered the base of his chest and ran down his abdomen leading towards his groin, getting less sparse the lower it went.
Seeing him so exposed was odd, most people would look vulnerable, but he only looked more intimidating and fearsome especially since his arm muscles were well defined despite his soft torso. His size was not a mirage from thick clothes or padded jackets like most men you encountered, he really was authentically a behemoth of a man.
He lowered himself into the pond and let out a sigh of relaxation when he submerged his torso under the surface. You smile, and swim over to him,
“You deserve to relax after working so hard. I hope we could make this a frequent thing, something we could do together.”
You waited for a response, he looked at you and then up to the sky, he let out a positive ‘hm’ and nodded. You felt like you were in a dream, nothing you experienced was ever this beautiful, and no man was ever as generous as Tommy, you wanted to live in this moment forever. Tommy stands up in the water, he turns to you and grabs your hand to pull you to another part of the pond,
“C’mere” he says.
He pushes past some thick reeds and you end up in a tiny alcove where the water comes up to your chin and tall grasses circle you both which made the area very intimate. Tommy sees you struggling to keep your head out of water, he bends over you and grabs the smallest area on your waist under your ribs with both hands and he lifts you out of the water effortlessly. You let out a short-excited scream as he pulls you up and holds you close to his body. You’re barely able to straddle him, your chest was now just under his chin, your tank top clung to your breasts exposing your now hardened nipples. You placed both arms over his shoulders to prevent yourself from smothering his face with your bosom. He was so strong that you were able to sit comfortably on just the one arm, he looks out towards the grass and says,
“Watch”
Tommy used his free hand to splash water across the grass around you and it erupted with whirring, a horde of fireflies sprung out from their hiding places and lit up the night. You were stunned,
“I’ve never seen fireflies before, this is… this is magical.”
Tommy laughs and slowly turns to let you take in the full effect of the display before you, the glow of the fireflies created a warm soft light that was bright enough to let you see his eyes clearly, you couldn’t help but stare. He looked up at you, his eyes half lidded and glossy, he drank in every inch of the enchanting sight before him. When he looked into your eyes it was like projecting his soul into your mind, you could feel his emotions and you felt a deep comfort from it, like a warm blanket on a cold winter night.
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You reach up and move his hair away from his face, he took your hand and held it to his cheek as he pressed his face into your touch, his eyes closing and letting out a deep breath. You smile at him and decide to be brave; you begin to slowly remove his mask but he abruptly stops your action with his hand, you could see his expression was full of worry, you say,
“If I keep my eyes closed will you let me take off your mask? I promise not to open them.”
Tommy looks off to the side thinking, he wasn’t scared of anything except losing you and he was worried that if you saw his full face, it would disturb you. He wondered what you were going to do, but the fear was stopping him from finding out. You see him deep in thought and speak again,
“Look” you close your eyes tightly, “I can’t see a thing, I promise I won’t peek.”
Tommy trusted you, and despite the anxiety running through his system, he removed his mask and let it hang down on one ear. He took your hand and guided it up to the left side of his face, which had no significant damage compared to the other side. You feel his stubble and softly move your hand down to his lips, they were smooth and parted slightly. You smile when your fingers reached his mouth, despite not being able to see his face, from what you were able to feel, you knew he was handsome. You slowly lower your head down and pause, hovering your lips over his and testing to see what he would allow. He didn’t resist.
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You pressed your lips onto his and immediately felt a jolt of hormonal chemicals race through you like an electric shock, he let out a muffled sound of surprise. He pressed back and slowly lowered your body so he could kiss you on a more equal level. You extended the kiss by opening your mouth slightly, parting his lips only to press in on them again passionately, Tommy reciprocated the motion and was now breathing heavily through his nose, you could hear his heart beating loudly in his chest as he groaned with arousal, it was so deep that it vibrated into your chest further exciting you.
You could feel some strange deformation on one side of his face, your lips didn’t quite connect with his fully on his right side. You stayed closer to his left side since it felt a little bit more intact, you wished you could see how unique his face was. Imagining the damage done to him at such a young age was upsetting, it only emboldened your feelings for him.
The kiss was long and passionate, you both couldn’t get enough of each other, it felt like a sin to stop. Every time you pulled back from his lips, he leaned into you to catch them again parting and closing your mouths to enhance the connection you both so desperately craved. You could smell the air from his nose washing over you, it was strangely intoxicating almost like it was fresh mountain air which aroused you further. His free arm was now trailing up your spine until his hand found a resting place on the back of your neck.
You wanted more of him; your emotions were getting so intense that you moaned each time the pressure of the kiss increased. You placed your left hand on his shoulder, and your right on his collarbone. You ran your fingers over the thick muscle tensing on his neck, his carotid artery was pulsating with his heart beat, you continued feeling upwards and reached his jawline where his thick stubble prickled your fingertips. His features were so far above a stereotypically masculine ideal, it made you feel a cautious excitement, as if you encountered the final product of evolutionary success aimed to create a monster of man.
You finally pull away, making sure to keep your eyes closed. You are breathing heavily, letting out a soft moan as you lean your head back to get more air. Tommy covers his face back with the mask and gazes at you still drunk off the kiss and feeling lighter than air. The fireflies have now dispersed to the point where it was very dim around you both. He carries you back to the shallow area of the pond so you could stand up.
You smile, “Thank you for trusting me.”
Tommy nods and smiles under his mask. You wade in the water around him as he sits in the water so his torso is once again submerged, his head leaned back and eyes closed. You look around at the leftover fireflies lazily floating over top the glassy pond surface, the water gently laps at your hips.
 A feeling of unease creeps into your body and raises the hairs on the back of your neck, you stop moving and a sudden wave of anxiety rushed over you. In this moment you freeze and quiet your breathing, you felt an instinct to try to listen to the world around you very carefully but you couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. The feeling of something being…off was now overwhelming and setting you on edge. You quietly move closer to Tommy to create a sort of protective border from the surroundings and hold onto his arm, he opens his eyes and looks at you with concern.
“Somethings wrong” you say in a hushed tone.
Tommy immediately got up from his sitting position and stood alert, he closed his arms around you and searched with his eyes to see what spooked you;
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He breathed out slowly and moved you back towards the dock. You were confused and frightened, a tense gut feeling was like an ancient ancestral alarm which you knew should never be ignored. He helped you up on the dock and followed behind after you walked toward your clothes. You quickly put on your tights and shoes and as Tommy got his clothes on you looked around, trying to find the source for this sudden dread. You slowly panned across the forest, until you see it.
In the distance, and shrouded in the shadows of night, a silhouette of a person stood still. It was too dark to make out any features and just as you saw them, they disappeared into the bush as if they were nothing but a hallucination. You get closer to Tommy who just finished pulling his shirt down over his body, you press your back into him to feel a sense of security. Tommy looks at you and bends his upper body over you as he looks around,
“Where” he says firmly,
You point to where the shadow was and whisper, “There was someone there, watching us.”
He didn’t need to see what you saw in order to know that the energy outside had shifted, all he wanted to do was get you to safety. He lifted you up into his arms and held you tightly, he took one look around to ensure the exit was safe and bolted; His movements were agile and fast, it almost felt supernatural. The trees whip past and you quickly lose sight of the pond, his footsteps reverberating thuds as he moves through the woods with expert agility.  Your eyes are wide with fear as you watch the forest behind you darken the further away you get; How Tommy was able to see things in the dark was a mystery to you.
Finally, you are out of the wooded area and coming up to where the silo was, the feeling of dread dissipates and Tommy slows his pace down, he wasn’t even huffing and puffing like most people would be doing after running so fast with a grown adult in their arms.
You hug him tightly, “Thank you for carrying me.”
You give him a kiss on his neck and continue to tighten your grip. Tommy brings you into the house and shuts the door behind you both, he gently lowers you to the floor, you keep hugging him as you stand on your tip toes. He felt very protective of you and was mad that someone scared you so much. His rage was building the more he thought about someone being on his property watching the two of you. He wondered how they would have been able to evade the multiple traps he set up around the pond perimeter.
Tommy grabs your shoulders and pushes you back slowly, he lifts your chin to have you look up at him. He sees the worried look on your face and it fuels his rage of the intruder,
“Go sleep, I gotta do somethin’.”
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His voice was rich in baritone, you could hear anger in his words. You didn’t want him to leave, but before you could tell him to stay, he was out the door. You made your way to the washroom to shower off the pond water and get ready for sleep, Luda Mae and Charlie were already asleep upstairs, unaware of the situation. You were disturbed by what you saw, but as long as Tommy was out there, you felt safe in the house. You went to bed that night worried, who was that shadow and what will happen if Tommy catches them? The morning couldn’t come soon enough.
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runnning-outof-time · 2 years
Text
Just Play Along | John Shelby x Reader
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Request: yes by @christinasyellowflowers
Pairing: John Shelby x reader
Summary: When the person who (Y/N) feels has been following her gets a little too close for comfort, she makes a quick decision that involves John Shelby and some good acting...or maybe no acting at all.
Warnings: language, stalker
Word Count: 2544
A/N: thanks for sending this idea in, Christina! I really enjoyed creating it...even though I kinda strayed from the original idea without even realizing it. I hope that’s ok. Enjoy! :)
Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!
———
(Y/N) hurried her step as she turned the corner onto Watery Lane. She glanced over her shoulder for the umpteenth time to see that the man who had been following her from a few streets back was still on her trail. She'd noticed this man before. He always started following her from when he exited the alleyway on River Street until she made it to the betting shop she worked at on Watery Lane. Sometimes he'd even be waiting for her to leave work, but he always returned to the same alleyway he started from.
Opening and shutting the door to the shop, she inhaled and exhaled a loud sigh. She rested her back against the door for a moment and looked at the ceiling, trying to calm herself down before she went to her station.
"All good, (Y/N)?" Lizzie Stark's voice came from a few feet away. It made (Y/N) look ahead again to see her friend looking at her with a concerned expression.
"Yeah," (Y/N) nodded, taking in another deep breath, "uh..." she trailed off then, trying to decide if she should tell the other woman about her predicament.
"What's bothering you?" Lizzie was able to read her facial expression, and her question basically answered (Y/N)'s debate for her.
"There's..." she started, trailing off as she glanced around the room. She then pushed herself off of the door and walked the few steps between her and the other woman so that she wouldn't be screaming her problems out for the entire shop to hear. "There's been a man that's been following me to and from work for the past few days. I think he looks familiar, but I can't quite place my finger on who he is," she explained her situation.
"That's not good, (Y/N)," Lizzie gave her initial reaction, her eyes widening slightly, "you've gotta tell someone."
"Isn't that what I've just done?" (Y/N) pointed out, her statement only making Lizzie send her a glare.
"That's not what I meant, and you know it. You have to go to someone with this...the coppers, or even Tommy," Lizzie then began listing off ideas, but it only made (Y/N) sigh.
"I don't know if I should because it could just be nothing," (Y/N) brushed off the severity of the situation.
"(Y/N) there is a man who is following you!" Lizzie whisper-yelled, also knowing that her friend didn't want her problems told to everyone in the room.
"I know!" (Y/N) responded in the same tone, "and other than that, I don't have much evidence against him...I just needed to get it off of my chest. I'll be ok," she then assured the other woman, who pursed her lips in response. "Now can we please get to work?" she asked, exasperation in her voice. Lizzie nodded her head before dropping her friend's gaze. "Oh, and Lizzie..." (Y/N) called once they began walking to their desks.
"Yeah?" Lizzie asked, looking up once again.
"Can you not tell anyone about this, please?"
"Of course not," she promised, her words making (Y/N) smile.
It felt good getting this off of her chest without anyone else knowing...or so she thought. What she hadn't realized was that John Shelby was in the next room over, and because the walls were practically paper thin, he heard every word of their conversation.
The day passed by rather quickly. (Y/N) was so busy checking races and taking bets that she didn't even have time to look at the clock. Before she knew it, the amount of men flowing into the shop had dwindled down, which meant Scudboat was ready to lock the doors for the day.
"Boy am I ready to go home..." (Y/N) trailed off as she let out a sigh of exhaustion. Lizzie just laughed at the other woman's statement as both women worked on putting their coats on.
"They offered you a position as a company secretary, you know," Lizzie reminded her, but (Y/N) brushed the statement off.
"The day wouldn't go by as fast, nor would it be nearly as exciting...filling out diaries and sealing envelopes isn't for me," (Y/N) put her thoughts on the job position into the conversation. Lizzie shrugged her shoulders slightly, her way of agreeing with (Y/N)'s statement.
"Time to head home," the dark haired woman said with a grin then. (Y/N) nodded excitedly in response.
But before the women were able to reach the door, a voice called out to them. "Lizzie!" It was Tommy, and he was standing in the archway that separated the offices from the floor. "I need you to type something for me."
"Duty calls," Lizzie said with a bit of a sigh, her voice only loud enough for (Y/N) to hear. "You'll make it home fine alone?" she then asked.
"I'll take her," yet another voice entered the conversation, making the two women turn and look back to where John was coming off of the slight platform the floor had.
"Oh, John, you don't have to," (Y/N) tried to politely decline his offer.
"No, I insist. You shouldn't be walking home late at night. 'S not safe for you," he stressed his point as he made his way over to her.
"Maybe you should let him take you, (Y/N)," Lizzie chimed in from where she was a few steps away now. Tommy was still waiting impatiently in the archway, but she didn't seem to mind...she wasn't done speaking with her friend yet.
"Lizzie," (Y/N) sent a 'you're kidding me' glance in the other woman's direction.
"I didn't tell him," Lizzie held her hands up to show she was innocent, "but it wouldn't be a bad thing, would it?" she then added with a slight shrug of her shoulders before she finally started walking to where Tommy was.
"Do you even know where I live?" (Y/N) asked John as she turned to face him.
"No," John shook his head, "but it's a good thing you do."
(Y/N)'s cheeks heated up at his statement as it made her realize how stupid she must've sounded. Of course she knew where she lived...why would he have had to know? "You're right," she sheepishly admitted.
"Shall we go?" John asked after they'd been standing there for a few quiet moments.
"Yes," (Y/N) nodded her head, grabbing her purse from the hook before she made her way to the door. John followed close behind her and made sure the door was shut before they both began walking down the street.
(Y/N) exhaled a breath of relief upon glancing up and down the street. The man who had followed her to work that day wasn't anywhere in sight. Maybe tonight's walk home wouldn't be terrible, she thought to herself as a slight smile formed on her face.
They managed to get to the next cross street before John stopped in his tracks. "Shit...I forgot me keys back at the shop," he said as he did a quick pat down of his jacket and pants pockets.
"You'd forget your head if it wasn't attached to your neck," (Y/N) teased him, making him roll his eyes with a grin on his face. John had a terrible habit of either forgetting to bring things when he left, or forgetting where he last put items.
"I'm gonna run back and get them really quick," he said, jerking his thumb back in the direction of the shop, which was only about a block away.
"Sure. I'll wait here for you," (Y/N) agreed with his idea, thinking nothing much of it. John nodded his head and then turned to begin speed-walking back to the betting shop.
(Y/N) stood with her back against the brick wall as she waited for John to return. She was the only person on the street at the moment, which was a surprise because there always seemed to be people walking on the streets of Small Heath at night. So she stood in her spot and focused herself on the pills on her sweater, picking a few off as a way to pass the time.
Then she heard footsteps approaching her. First she looked in the direction of the shop, thinking that it was John coming back with his missing keys. But there was no one coming from that direction. When she turned to look the opposite way, her blood ran cold. It was the man that had been following her for the past several days. She could only faintly make out his features, but she knew for sure that it was him. Her heartbeat quickened as she tried to think of what to do. He was coming towards her at a decent pace; the gap between them closing rather quickly.
She began walking back in the direction of the betting shop all the while glancing over her shoulder to see that he was indeed still following her. With her heartbeat in her ears, she tried to control her breathing and kept on walking. She did this until she heard what sounded like the faint call of her name.
In reality though, John Shelby was once again right in front of her, and as her eyes focused on him, a plan came to mind. She quickly wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him towards her before she spun them slightly so that she'd be able to peek and see if the man was still walking her way.
"(Y/N)?" there was a great deal of confusion in his voice, but he returned the hug anyway, his hands fastening to the sides of her waist as he dropped his face into the crook of her neck.
(Y/N) held the embrace as she watched the man continue to get closer to them. Obviously her plan wasn't working yet. She needed to kick it up a notch. So she moved her arms from around his shoulders and took his face into her hands. She now saw the confusion in his eyes, but that didn't stop her from leaning in and kissing him. Once again, he was stiff from confusion initially, but kissed her back within seconds, his hands squeezing her hips even tighter as he did so. "That man..." she mumbled against John's lips before she kissed them again, "that man is following me. Just play along, ok?"
John only hummed against her lips as his hands then moved to hook together in the small of her back. He leaned back against the building behind him, his hold on her effectively pulling her along with him. Their lips stayed locked until he removed them, and then he started placing kisses against her cheek as he tried to find the man she had mentioned. (Y/N) laughed at the feeling before pressing her face into his neck, hoping that now the man had a good enough reason to get lost. They stayed that way for a few moments before John softly whispered, "he's gone, love," into her ear.
That finally made her pull away to look at him once more. She couldn't stop her cheeks from heating up as she took in the goofy grin on John's face. "Stop looking at me like that," she stated, playfully pushing on his cheek so that his gaze would break from her.
"Like what?" John questioned her.
"Like you enjoyed what just happened," she gave a bit of an explanation.
John couldn't help but chuckle slightly at her words. "I did enjoy it though," he stated before adding, "the part with this kiss, I mean."
"I figured," (Y/N) told him, her cheeks heating up again.
"You should've told me about that man," John stated then, bringing the conversation back to a more serious topic, "I would have never let you stay out here by yourself."
"It's fine, John," she brushed him off, not really wanting to delve too deep into it, "you came back in time, and that's all that matters."
John sighed, obviously still having more to say on the topic, but he knew that pushing her to talk about it would just get him nowhere. So he reached his hand out to her. "Let's get you home," he said when she glanced down at his offer. With a smile, she accepted his hand and allowed him to tangle their fingers together before they continued down the street to her house.
They were at her stoop only a handful of minutes later. "Thanks for walking me home, John," (Y/N) smiled graciously at him.
"It's not a problem, (Y/N)," he brushed her thanks off, "I'm happy that I insisted I do so though," he added, and she nodded her head.
"Yeah...I can't help but think that tonight might have gone different if you hadn't," she agreed with him, shuddering slightly as she thought back to her encounter with the man.
Silence fell between them for a few moments before John cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. "You know....I mentioned it before, but I really quite liked that kiss," he said as a grin started to form on his face.
Once again, (Y/N) felt her cheeks heating up at the mention of the kiss they shared. “Yeah? And what of it, Shelby?” she decided to go the playful route, hoping that maybe it wouldn’t give away the fact that inside she felt like a giddy school girl.
“Well what if you and I went out for a dinner, or some drinks, some time?” he asked her, his eyebrows raised slightly as he waited intently for what her answer would be.
(Y/N) thought about his suggestion for a few moments. She couldn’t help but think that what he was proposing sounded like it would be a great time. So with a smile, she gave her response, “I think I’d like that, John,” she nodded her head slightly before adding, “it’s the least that I can do for you after tonight.”
“Oh it’s not because of tonight...I’ve been wantin’ to ask you out for some time now. Tonight just gave me a clear opportunity,” he clarified his intentions to her, his words making her cheeks heat up.
“Well then I guess I’m happy about that,” (Y/N) smiled at him.
“What do you say?...one more for the road?” John asked then, his eyebrows raised slightly in anticipation for what she would say.
(Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh at his request. “Why not?” she shrugged her shoulders before her hands went to his shoulders and she leaned in to kiss his lips. John held her in place and made sure that the kiss was longer than a quick peck.
They said their good nights once they pulled away, and (Y/N) made sure to watch John stroll down the street until she couldn’t see him anymore. She then entered her home with a smile on her face. Tonight went the opposite of what she expected it to, in the best way possible. She was certainly happy that John played along.
———
Tagged: @alreadybroken-ts @magicalxdaydream @the-anxious-youth @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @easilyobessedbutflighty @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss
MASTERLIST
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mediocreanomaly · 9 months
Note
Would you do uncanny Vash with s/o reader cuddling?
If you dont know about the uncanny au then it's okay
Authors Note: Yes!!!! I can!!!! I was actually making an uncanny Vash HC's list so you read my mind. thank you for letting me speak about creature Vash because...I love him
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Cuddling With Uncanny Vash
•The first time you cuddle with Vash you two aren't actually together together, you had been traveling with him and had to set up camp in the sands of No Mans Land, not close enough to any towns to get shelter for the night
•You rolled out your sleeping bag and noticed Vash seemed a bit...uncomfortable?
"Hey...you good Vash?" "huh? oh- yeah! I uh, I don't hold body heat very well so it's a bit cold at night, I'm fine though! Promise!"
You frowned because ofcourse he was going to play martyr, always one to put the comfort of everyone else above his, so with out a word you had taken it upon your self to drag your sleeping bag next to him and begin wiggling in.
"y-y/n?!?! what are you doing?!?!" he squeaks "You said you're cold." you deadpan
•After a bit of flustered instance you don't have to do this...he settles. Vash really doesn't hold body warmth, but he eagerly presses against you to feel yours
•It reminds you a bit of the lizards around Gunsmoke that sunbathe to stay warm, but you'll gladly share your heat (not that you like him like that or anything...ha.)
•After that cuddling with Vash becomes a normal occurrence, only thing is...you feel like every time you notice something odd about the spikey blonde
•The next time you sleep next to Vash is luckily in a motel room. It had been a long days travel so you pass out pretty much as soon as you hit the bed. Only waking up when in the middle of the night when you need to you the rest room
•You groan and slowly blink open your eyes...and scream. Two eyes that reflect like an animals in the dark are staring down at you but when you tumble out of bed the only thing that greets you is Vashs quick apologizes because you "just looked so peaceful!" which, maybe you had before you had the living daylights scared out of you
•Eventually Vash starts to get more comfortable pulling you close for warmth. A fact you become aware of when one night he snakes his arms around your waist...but...his arms just keep wrapping around you
•There's some sort of primal instinct telling you the arms holding you right now are just a bit too long, that the feeling of your companions fingers gently laid on your hips should've stopped just a few centimeters before they actually do...but you try to ignore it
•Speaking of which...when he gets up in the morning and yawns? You swear to god that his jaw opens just a tad bit further than it should. There's a split thought of "run" in your head before he closes his mouth and blearily blinks the sleep out of his eyes. Not to mention the dopey smile on his face that keeps you from saying anything
•Once you and Vash get in a relationship it only doubles his...not human traits.
•Like the fact his plant markings glow now when the two of you lay down, a soft teal light pulsing through him as he nuzzles up against you
•Along with the fact that if he's really blissed out small feather like things will bloom and sprout around his face and arms. One time you even wake up to full wings encircling you keeping you secure next to his body
•Luckily this also comes with...purring! Kinda? Vash purrs but the first time you hear it you are very confused. He's not a cat so it's not the gentle sound you're used too, it a heavier deeper rumble that when he does it it doesn't even sound like it's coming from his chest. Some how there's a weird audio trick where it sounds like it's coming from every direction around you
•The first time scared you because it was hard to tell what was happening but after Vash sheepishly admits he just feels safe with you and he can't help it, your heart melts and you love when his rumbling purr lulls you to sleep
•In all you get used to his odd sleeping habits, the only thing that still freaks you out sometimes is that when he first wakes up, he'll stretch. Or...at least you think he stretches, all you know is you can hear the sound of bones groaning, grinding and popping into place. One time you saw his shadow on the wall while he did this and it looked like multiple limbs fanning out writhing around his body. You willed yourself to look but...every time you do he's just sitting on the bed like nothing. You quit looking at his shadow after that, sometimes it's better to just be curious.
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hopepetal · 10 months
Text
Masterlist
Read on AO3!
Part Six!
Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! :)
@applestruda
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Breakfast the next day was a muted affair at first, the mood dampened from the events of last night and Pearl’s injury. Only after reassuring everyone that she was alright and cracking a few jokes did the mood lighten and conversations begin as normal. Impulse still seemed to be a little down, but he still smiled and talked with the rest of them. Even Grian was awake in time for breakfast, having woken up from Pearl moving around.
But still, something felt… off.
Like clouds gathering on the horizon during a sunny day, or knowing something is missing and just not knowing what. Like old signs saying “KEEP OUT” in big, bold letters, worn down to the point of being illegible. It was a timer, ticking down, grains of sand falling through an hourglass.  Something was about to happen, and if they weren’t careful, the knights would be caught in the middle of it. 
What a shame, then, that they didn’t see the storm clouds.
After breakfast, the knights cleaned up and began to go about their day. Pearl looked through their food storage and began to make a list of all the things they’d need to restock next time one of the knights went to the village. Mumbo was working on… something redstone related, perhaps that automatic vegetable cutter he had mentioned the other day. Scar and Grian were tending to the animals, and Impulse was busy chopping wood.
It seemed as though hardly any time had passed at all before it was time for lunch, and the knights gathered around the table once more. Plans were discussed for the next few days– there was shopping to be done, there had been a report of some undead roaming an area nearby the village, and the lodge had to be built, of course. 
Impulse finished up his lunch and stood up. “Pearl, could I… talk to you?” he asked hesitantly, almost reluctantly. “After you’re done, of course. Uh, alone. If you don’t mind.”
Pearl frowned slightly, looking up at Impulse with concern. “Of course. I’m done right now anyway, so…” She stood as well, and walked away from the table with Impulse, toward the forest.
Grian let them go, watching as the two crossed the camp and disappeared into the forest. He looked back at Scar and Mumbo, a sense of dread rising up in him. “We’re following them, right?” he asked, “I’m not the only one who doesn’t like this one bit?”
Scar gave him a smile, though something about it seemed strained. “Yeah. Something’s been off about Impulse for a while. I kinda thought it was over and done with, but last night…” He trailed off, raising his gaze to where Pearl and Impulse had entered the forest. 
“I mean, Pearl probably can handle herself,” Mumbo pointed out, “but I do think… I mean, it does feel a little weird, is all, things are probably going to be fine, but…” He looked between Scar and Grian, trying to think of the right words. “Well, better safe than sorry?” he finished, shrugging awkwardly. 
Grian nodded. “Yeah. If anything, we could just say we were going to prank them. Or something. But I just… I have a bad feeling about this.”
“That’s how most of our pranks start as well,” Scar quipped, laughing when Grian gently smacked him with his wing. “I’m not wrong! I’m not!” he defended himself, quickly standing up from the table and nearly falling over. 
Grian stood, helping Scar steady himself. Mumbo got up as well, and together the three began the trek toward the forest.
Pearl and Impulse were walking through the forest in relative silence, and Pearl could tell that he was trying to work up the courage to say something– though what, she had no clue. It was a nice day out to be walking through the forest at least, and Pearl found herself just enjoying the little adventure they were having. The ambient sounds of the forest echoed around her, and dappled sunlight shone golden through the leaves that made up the canopy. 
Pearl sighed, looking over at Impulse. He still hadn’t said anything about what he wanted to talk to her about, and she was getting a little worried. “Ya doin’ alright there, mate?” she asked, giving him a soft smile when he looked up at her.
Impulse nodded, but judging by his expression, that didn’t seem to be the case. “Yeah, I just… well, you see… this is really hard to talk about,” he tried to explain, “and I just… I didn’t want to freak anybody out, or make this a big deal, or…” He stopped talking, looking away. The two continued their walk for a moment in silence, before Impulse spoke up again. “I don’t know, Pearl…”
Pearl brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “You can tell me anything you’d like, Impulse,” she said earnestly. “I know some things are really hard to get out, but I promise you, things will get better if you share your problems with people.”
Impulse let out a quiet frustrated sound. “I know. Everyone keeps saying that, and I know that everyone is willing to talk, and I know how much we rely on communication. And I just– it’s not that I don’t want to talk, it’s just that…” He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “It’s so hard to put things into words. And it all just gets to be so overwhelming, and it just builds up and…”
Pearl nodded. “I know how you feel. It’s really hard, Impulse. Take all the time you need. I’m cool with just walking with you for a bit, if that’s what ends up happening.” She shrugged. “It’s a nice day out for it anyway, so I really don’t mind.”
Impulse smiled, seeming to relax a little. “Thanks, Pearl.” He still seemed a little more tense than usual, but definitely more at ease than he had been just a few moments ago. “I know I need to tell you this today, though. It’s not really something that can wait, I think.”
Pearl stepped over an exposed tree root. “That’s fine, too.” Though the fact that Impulse had brought her out here to talk to her about something he considered urgent worried her, she did her best to keep her cool. Whatever it was, it had probably been bothering him for a long time, and he was only able to get it out now.
The trees in front of them were beginning to thin, and Pearl could hear the faint sound of water in the distance. They were near the ravine, she figured, assuming that what she was hearing was the waterfall. It hardly felt like they had been walking for that long at all, but it was easy to lose track of time in the forest, especially because she had been deep in her own thoughts for most of the trip. 
Stepping out from under the cover of the canopy, Pearl followed Impulse and sat next to him in a soft patch of grass that overlooked the ravine from a safe distance, and gazed out across the gap. She had flown over this same ravine many times before, but would normally use the sturdy bridge further down the way when traveling with the knights. The ravine was a good place to go into for ores and such in some places, but the river this far up the ravine was too fast for that. 
Pearl remembered how, when she had first been exploring the area with Grian and found the ravine, they had flown down close to the river and dared each other to touch the water while still in the air. She smiled slightly as she remembered Grian’s terrified squawk when he tried to touch water so fast it was almost purely white, before he had ascended and claimed that he just “didn’t want to get his clothes wet” and that “he was joking when he suggested doing it in the first place”. 
Ah, good times.
Impulse sighed and crossed his legs, leaning forward. “Alright. I…” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I know this might come as a shock,” he started carefully, “but I promise, this isn’t because of what happened last night, and it’s nothing against you or Grian or Scar or Mumbo, any of them. But I… I’ve decided it’s best if I…” For a moment, he was silent. “...if I’m not a knight anymore.”
That… certainly wasn’t what Pearl was expecting. Keeping herself composed, she looked over at Impulse. “Impulse… why?” she asked. “I’m not going to keep you if that’s what you really want, but just… is there a reason for this?”
Impulse pressed his lips together, keeping his gaze strictly on the grass. “I… I don’t think it’s safe,” he admitted, “for you to be around me. For any of you. I’m– Pearl, something’s been happening to me, and I just…” He looked up at her, desperation shining in his eyes. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t control myself. I’m going to end up hurting someone, and I don’t even know why I asked you to come here alone with me, this was a horrible idea–” He stood up, taking a few steps back. “I don’t think–”
Pearl stood as well, holding her hands up in a placating gesture. “Impulse, calm down. It’s okay, we can talk this through. Just–”
Impulse shook his head. “No, Pearl, we can’t. You don’t understand, I’m out of control! I don’t even know what thoughts are mine anymore! I– why did I do this, I could hurt you!” His panic just continued to grow, and he took a few more steps away.
Getting closer to the edge of the ravine.
Pearl’s eyes darted from the steep drop-off back to Impulse, and she reached out. “Impulse, please stop. Just… come here, we can talk about this, we can get you help…” When Impulse paused, she took a few steps forward. “It’s going to be okay.” She took another few steps, ignoring the instinct to look down at the ravine she was far too close to.
Impulse took another step back, and Pearl felt panic shoot through her veins like ice. “Impulse, please. The ravine,” she reminded him, trying to stop the fear from showing in her voice. “You’re too close. Take my hand, okay? Please.” She felt tears welling up as her breath hitched. “Please.” 
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. It was just Impulse and Pearl, and only Death’s black wings could catch Impulse if he fell.
Pearl held her breath.
“Please.” 
Impulse took her hand.
“They really just decided to take the worst path through the woods,” Grian muttered as he tried to smack branches and vines out of the way with his wings. “I mean, come on. Who even does that? This isn’t even a path!”
Mumbo ducked under a branch, shielding his face just in case he got smacked. “Well, I’ve heard that going off-trail is quite nice to the more adventurous types,” he offered, and Grian only rolled his eyes.
“Aren’t we supposed to be adventurous types?” Scar asked, “because last time I checked, we were knights, and knights are… pretty much the adventurous type, aside from like, mercineraries.” He frowned. “That’s not it. Mercin– marcen– hold on, I almost… merchindins–”
“Mercenaries?” Grian asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I guess.” “Yes!” Scar exclaimed, “there we go! That’s it!” He smiled brightly, pleased. 
“This feels more like a summer camp,” Mumbo said, “the ones for those little children, you know. The ones that sell cookies.”
Grian huffed softly. “We are not a summer camp. We are not mercenaries either, we are knights and we rarely go off the trail.”
“I want to go to summer camp!” Scar protested, “it sounds like so much fun! We could go hiking, go on adventures, sit around a campfire and tell spooky stories, and have a cool team name!”
“Honestly, that sounds pretty much like what we do now,” Mumbo pointed out, “just without the cool team name. Sorry Grian,” he added on, “I just don’t really think ‘the knights’ is an actual team name.”
“Then what would you like to be called?” Grian shot back, attempting to be serious though he could hardly hold back a smile.
“I think,” Scar chimed in, “that we should call ourselves the buttercups!”
“Absolutely not,” Grian shot down, “aren’t team names supposed to be fearsome or something? Isn’t the whole point to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies?”
“I think it’s a nice name,” Mumbo interjected, Scar backing him up with an indignant “yeah!” 
Grian pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily. “Oh, I’m not winning this one, am I,” he muttered. “Pearl’s going to kill me when she learns we’re called the buttercups.” 
“Speaking of, where is Pearl?” Scar asked. “How do you even know we’re going the right way?”
“Birds-eye view,” Grian responded, absolutely deadpan. 
Mumbo let out a confused noise. “But you’re on the ground.”
“Mhm.”
“With us.”
“Seems like it.”
“So it’s not really–”
“I just know,” Grian said, “trust me.”
“The last time you said that, things caught fire,” Mumbo muttered, but said nothing else. 
Grian picked up the pace, the uneasy feeling growing the longer they walked. He prayed that it was just him overreacting, that nothing bad was going to happen, that they would find Pearl and Impulse and everything would be alright. 
Something told him his prayers wouldn’t be answered.
When Impulse took her hand, Pearl let out an audible gasp of relief and pulled him carefully away from the edge, toward her. “Impulse,” she breathed, “never do that again.” She hugged him tightly, trying to stop her hands from shaking. She felt his arms carefully wrap around her shoulders, reciprocating the hug. “I was so worried.”
“I’m sorry, Pearl.”
For a moment, Pearl was relieved. For a moment, she believed that things were going to be okay, that they were both safe. For a moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity, she forgot that Impulse never really liked hugs.
By the time the alarm sounded in her brain, it was far too late. 
Impulse grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved as hard as he could.
By some miracle, Pearl managed to dig her fingers into the edge of the cliff, her wings– injured, useless– trying desperately to push her back up onto solid ground. Pain shot through her wings as she strained a little too hard, her stitches separating from the frantic movements. 
“Impulse!” she got out, the tears from earlier beginning to slip down her face, “Impulse, I can’t–!” She tried to find an area to dig her feet into, but found no purchase on the stone. “Impulse, help me!”
Impulse smiled. “I really am sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry. He didn’t sound like Impulse. 
Had his eyes always been red?
Realization hit her just as Impulse stomped down hard on her hand.
Pearl fell.
A strangled scream tore its way from Grian's throat, and he took off before Scar could even move. “Pearl!” He threw himself over the cliff edge, diving after his sister. 
Grian was fast, but Scar was no slowpoke himself. His eyes burned a brilliant, vibrant blue as the colour faded from his hair. He slammed into Impulse, knocking the other knight to the ground with a grunt and pinning him just inches away from the edge. Mumbo stopped a few feet away, eyes wide as Scar placed his claws against Impulse's throat. 
“Woah there.” Impulse, red-eyed and wrong, smiled as he held up his hands in surrender. “No need to be like that.”
“You,” Scar hissed out, “you’re what’s been causing this, you hellspawn!” He pressed his claws harder against Impulse’s throat, the sharp points pricking the skin and drawing small beads of blood. “Get out of him. Get out of my friend!” 
Impulse just laughed. “Nice try, vex.” In one swift movement, he threw Scar off of him, rolling back onto his feet. “But I've always been stronger.” Before Scar could react, he took off into the forest, leaving the cliff behind. 
Scar didn’t go after him. Despite how much he wanted to, the demon possessing their friend was right. It was stronger than him, and even if he were able to defeat it, he would be bringing significant harm to Impulse. 
The flapping of wings interrupted the silence Mumbo and Scar had been left in, and Grian appeared over the cliff, holding Pearl close. He landed carefully, chest heaving as he gently let Pearl down. She leaned against her brother heavily, noticeably trembling. Scar didn't blame her– falling and being unable to catch yourself was one of the scariest things. 
Mumbo coughed awkwardly, breaking the silence. “I hate to be the one to say it, but I don't think that's Impulse.”
Despite everything, Scar had to laugh. “Yeahhh... you think?”
The trip back to camp was a somber one. Pearl recovered from the shock fairly quickly, but her stitches had ripped and she was still in quite a bit of pain. The moment they arrived back at camp, Grian brought her back to her tent to go fix her wing. 
Mumbo and Scar sat in silence, Scar’s hair still streaked with white. He was both frustrated and absolutely furious. He wanted– he wanted that demon dead. He wanted to rip it into shreds for daring to hurt his friends. But he was also worried. Impulse had run off, and Scar doubted that the demon cared very much for his health and safety. 
Grian returned with Pearl after a little while, and the remaining knights sat down to decide on a course of action. 
“I think we should go to Cub,” Scar suggested, “he seemed to have an idea of what could be happening. Maybe, knowing what we know now, he could narrow it down. Or something.”
Grian nodded grimly. “That sounds like a fairly good start. We’ll leave as soon as we can.”
It was as if a dark cloud had descended on the camp as the knights got ready, the usual idle chatter silenced by fear and anger and worry. The knights mounted up and began the trip to Cub’s house, a sense of urgency in their movements.
They’d save Impulse. 
They had to.
Impulse woke up on the ground, laying against a tree. He blinked, looking around in confusion. “Where…?”
Suddenly, he remembered.
Impulse shot up, his breaths becoming short and rapid as a panic attack set in. He had to brace himself against the tree, nausea rising as he gasped for air.
He killed Pearl. He– he killed Pearl. Pearl couldn’t fly. He pushed her. She was dead. 
As much as I would love that, she is not. 
Impulse jumped, startled by the demon’s voice in his mind. “You– what do you mean?!” he cried, anger and horror and fear all mixing into one awful emotion. “We pushed her off– she couldn’t survive that!”
If she had died, I would’ve been free. 
“Oh, Void.” Impulse practically collapsed against the tree, slowly sliding down until he was on the ground again. “Thank the stars. Thank the stars.” Relief had tears welling up in his eyes, streaking down his face and leaving hot trails.
I wouldn’t be so relieved just yet. 
“Why not?” Impulse snapped, “what more could you possibly do?”
He was given no answer.
Impulse was now, truly, alone.
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barista suguru and reader has the biggest crush on him that they try to ask him out but got too nervous to do so!! however.. reader suddenly see him at a party they were invited in, and what does alcohol do to a person sometimes? confidence, and they hook up (eventually got together??) I'm not sure if this request makes sense, and English isn't my first language..
omg hi anon thank you for the ask - not sure if you're an AOT fan but @humanitys-strongest-bamf has an amazing fic similar to this w Levi and its god tier
anywaysss here we go <3
(The ages in this are all fucked up lol, Megumi, Nobara, and Yuji are 22 and Gojo, Geto, and Shoko are like 25)
content warning: Haibara and Nanami are lovers lmao, weed, alcohol, cigarettes, hookup culture
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(this is my original drawing please do not repost)
-
Being well known on your college campus is a blessing and a curse. You loved being involved in a lot of clubs and participating in social events. Going to the library or trying to study was nearly impossible with how many people knew you. However being a senior, you needed to focus and get things done. You lived a little ways off campus to save money and started frequenting a little coffee shop a few blocks from your apartment.
The first time you stopped, you had been walking home from class when a storm with bad winds blew in, and you decided to just study in this cafe until the storm passes. There are little tables all throughout, you grab one near the back and pull out some of your course materials and get started writing notes and going over chapters for your quiz in a few days. That is when a yawn washes over you and the exhaustion from late nights sets in. You figure you might as well get a drink while you're at this coffee shop.
Walking up to the counter you squint up at the menu board trying to decide what you're in the mood for.
"What can I get for you?" a man's voice asks.
Lost in your indecisiveness you don't even look down to make eye contact reading between Americano, Latte, Cold Brew, etc.
"Mmmm, not sure yet, I may need a few minutes," biting your bottom lip thinking about how much caffeine you want to intake today.
"We also have a list of specials down in front of you," he says politely and you see him walk away out of your peripherals.
The thing is, you're not a huge coffee person. Half the time it's too sweet, half the time it's too bitter. The caffeine gives you jitters and makes you anxious. Also sometimes coffee just messes your stomach up so you just have given up on expensive coffee places and opt for making your own shitty coffee at home.
You glance down at the specials list, reading them to yourself,
"Almond Joy Latte
Sparkling Green Tea Refresher
Pink Velvet Cold Brew
Barista's Choice"
You finally look up at the employee, a tall man that is turned around cleaning the espresso machine. His hair is pulled back into a cute bun and his frame is just large. You look at his hands, so large and strong with some veins protruding. He has a black button up on with the sleeves rolled up, exposing tattoos on his forearms. Matching it with black pants and a black apron, he looks kind of dark and mysterious.
He turns around and catches your eye, forgetting all the words that were about to form in your head.
"Still need a minute?" He squints his eyes a little and smiles softly as your eyes rake over his whole face. He has a piece of black bangs sticking out from the bun, pierced ears, a lip ring, amber eyes, and an amazingly chiseled jaw. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out and you can feel the heat spread across your cheeks.
"Uh, I, sorry," you shake your head and try to laugh at your own stupor, "Can I do the barista's choice?"
He nods, "Any preferences?"
"Uhm, no, whatever you like," you completely lie through your teeth trying to seem chill. He taps in the order on the iPad at the register and flips it over for you to pay and sign. At least it isn't too expensive if you don't like it, but you eagerly press the "25%" tip button hoping Mr. tall, dark, and handsome appreciates it.
"I'll bring it over to you when it's ready," he smiles and nods his head towards where you were seated.
"Thanks," you smile awkwardly walking back to your course materials, although it's not like you'll be focusing on anything other than the barista soon. You not-so-casually watch him work, obsessed with a man you've hardly spoken to once.
A few minutes later he brings over a cute tea cup and saucer, and you immediately smile when he sets it down, seeing the little design on top.
"It's a dirty chai...like a chai tea latte with a shot of espresso in it and a little special touch. Let me know if you like it."
The man smirks and walks away before you can even properly thank him. You burn your tongue eagerly taking a sip too soon, trying to find another excuse to talk to him. You try to take your mind off of it by scrolling through instagram for a bit while drinking your latte but around this time of year its all couples and engagements and babies which only adds to how down bad you feel. You get a text from your friend Nobara letting you know that a friend of her friend, Megumi, is having a party Friday and the friend told Megumi who told Nobara that they could bring whoever. After deciphering the word vomit of a text she sent you you send back a "thumbs up emoji" letting her know you'll be there because nobody else has invited you anywhere yet.
You finish your drink and decide to pack up your stuff and head home, a few blocks in the rain won't hurt you. It might cool you off from thinking about the dreamy barista you just met. You set the cute mug on the counter, and he turns around when he hears the noise. He raised an eyebrow, as if asking 'how was it?'
"It was great," you smile, "uhm, have a good one," you slightly shrug and turn around to go before he can add anything, just like he did to you earlier.
-
The next few days are uneventful, you walk by the coffee shop every day on your way to campus, wondering if he is working or if you should go in, but not wanting to struggle to pick a drink or pay for coffee again.
On Friday Nobara walks back to your apartment with you, she commutes in to town so whenever there is a party or something going on she crashes on your couch. She eyes the little cafe, "Want coffee? I think tonight might be pretty fun from the sounds of it!" She practically squeals and you find it adorable how excited she is. "Sure" you grumble, holding the door open for her.
She waltzes right up to the counter, decisive as always, and knows exactly what she wants. You trail behind her, not seeing any employees at the counter, squinting up at the menu board yet again. That's when you hear giggling come from the back room and see the handsome barista come out with some supplies, followed by a cute girl with a short brown bob who seems to be helping him.
You can't help but think about his beautiful laugh, and how you can hear it again.
"See ya tonight Shoko" he says, putting his apron back on and refocusing his attention to Nobara.
"Bye Geto!" This so called Shoko calls back to him as she walks out the front door. You cant help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the way he was in the backroom with his apron off and laughing with a girl.
Like girl - quit being delusional, you just heard his name for the first time and he probably doesn't even know who you are.
"Y/n, what do you want?" Nobara interrupts your talk with yourself.
"I'll have what she's having," you say overly confident, smiling at Geto. They both side eye you and you just remain oblivious, opting to go on your phone as you let your friend pay for your coffee as payment for her 'hotel' for the night. The two of you move out of the way and stand off to the side waiting for your drinks while Nobara talks about how Megumi's other friend Yuji is going to be there tonight with his big brother Sukuna and how excited she is because they're both sooo attractive. You nod your head along with what she says while scrolling on your phone. It's not that you don't care what she's saying, it's just that she knows so much about everything. All the gossip on campus is at your fingertips because of her, good or bad. You zone out staring at whatever drinks the barista is making, watching his damn good looking hands do his job. He walks over to you with two cups and you can't help but just stare at him. His outfit today consists of jeans and a tight black tshirt with a flannel jacket over top.
"Two iced matcha lattes with coconut milk and a strawberry cold foam on top," He smiles as Nobara eagerly grabs both of the drinks and hands one to you.
She sips it right away, "This is the best I've ever had thank youuu," she dramatically draws out while pulling you out the door heading to your apartment again. You look back to see him watching you leave and give a small wave with the hand that is holding your drink. You can't tell if you're imagining it but you think you see a faint blush over his cheeks.
-
You and Nobara enjoy your typical pregame activities, getting ready together, listening to music, and sharing a blunt.
"The guy at the coffee shop was checking you out," she half slurs, talking while applying her lip gloss.
"What makes you say that?" You think she's messing with you but you also hadn't told her about your little crush.
"When I was ordering he was staring at you the WHOLE time. Like he didn't even make eye contact with me I don't think!" She wines, "God it's not fair he's so gorgeous."
"To be fair Nobara, you think most guys are gorgeous" You giggle and walk towards the freezer to grab some liquor. "Speaking of gorgeous men, who's party are we even going to tonight?"
"I think it's at some guy named Satoru Gojo's house? I guess he's good childhood friends with Megumi from when he didn't really have a dad." There goes your friend, sharing other people's business when she didn't really need to.
"Mmm," you nod and throw back a shot of liquor, "I think I had a class with him when I was like a freshman and he was a senior. A real interesting character."
"Maybe you can introduce me and I'll get lucky," Nobara raises her eyebrows at you.
"You will not be having sex on my couch." You say sternly before you both erupt in a fit of giggles. Gathering a few last minute things before heading out, you also grab a reusable shopping tote and fill it with a little bit of your own alcohol, you never know what they may or may not have at these kinds of parties.
-
Walking there was a little chilly but overall a nice night for the time of year. This guy must've gone to your school and hadn't left yet given the proximity of his house to your apartment and to campus.
You walk in and see Yuji Itadori right away with his friendly smile and big personality. He gives you both hugs and you know at least if Nobara doesn't get lucky with anyone else she can rely on Yuji.
Your energetic friend holds your hand as she searches the rest of the party to find her friend Megumi. He stands in the kitchen with a white haired man that you faintly think is this Gojo guy, both getting ready to shotgun a beer together. You and Nobara wait to see who wins before interrupting, grabbing drinks out of the cooler and setting down your bag with liquor and hard seltzers in it. It appears that Gojo finishes just a second before Megumi and you hear Nobara interrupting, "Gumi what was that?! You lost like a little bitch?"
He groans in response but ultimately smiles, "Why am I friends with you again?"
"Because you've been stuck with me since high school."
Watching the altercation, Gojo comes up to you and asks, "You're with them?" Nodding his head at the two immaturely arguing.
"Sadly." you respond taking a swig of your drink.
"I'm Satoru Gojo, this is my place, thanks for coming." He eyes you over top of his black round sunglasses, making you feel like you may be wearing too revealing of clothes.
"I'm y/n, thanks for the invite by proxy," You giggle as Megumi makes his way over to you.
"Y/n, good to see you," the spikey haired boy gives you an awkward side hug, and a little kiss on the top of your head. Satoru raises his eyebrows at the two of you and you roll your eyes. When Megumi and Nobara get distracted and head into another room you fill him in. "Megumi and I may have hooked up once or twice when we were drunk," You blush, revealing your secret that hardly anyone knew to this stranger.
"Mhmm, seems like more than once or twice," Gojo sips his drink and sighs dramatically, leaving the kitchen to you alone.
Just then the back door of the kitchen that leads to the back yard creaks open. You turn to see who it was out of instinct, and recognize the girl with the brown bob from the cafe earlier today. She carries on past you not even really looking at you with her cigarette still lit in her mouth.
You see Nobara in the living room from your spot on the kitchen and mouth to her that you're going outside to smoke. She nods and thumbs up, but it seems that Yuji also read your lips and is interested in joining you.
You head out to the backyard, very dimly lit despite the pretty lights Gojo tried to hang up to make it look more aesthetic. You pull out a dab pen and a cigarette and hold them up for Yuji to take his pick. His eyes light up at the weed pen and he takes a huge inhale.
"God Yuji, careful," you laugh and proceed to take a smaller hit.
Your laugh seems to attract the attention of another group standing outside, and you immediately quiet yourself.
"Do you have a light?" One of them asks although you can't make out names or voices and even if you could you don't know many people here.
"Yeah," you respond, digging out a baby pink lighter that has a "Daddy's Girl" sticker on it, a joke that one of your friends gave you. Hopefully its dark enough that they can't see it.
A blonde guy approaches you to grab it, "Thanks, we have some seats over here if you guys want." Yuji happily follows but you're a little apprehensive. However they do have a firepit going so it is a little brighter over there.
"I'm Kento, this is my boyfriend Yu," the two introduce themselves, lighting their cigs at the same time with your lighter. You take another small hit of your pen as the brunette one comments, "Nice lighter." It makes you cough on your smoke a bit but eventually turns into laughter, "Thank you," You smile grabbing it back from them.
Yuji seems to be a little high from his rather large puff earlier, and you ask, "I'm going to go check on Nobara, you need anything?" He smiles and shakes his head and starts some conversation about an underground fight club with the two guys as you walk back inside. You enter back into the kitchen, grabbing another drink and heading into the living room where you last saw Nobara. She is having a heart to heart with some girl that graduated last year that you know of named Maki. They both have been drinking and just are smiling and agreeing with everything the other says.
She suddenly turns to you when she realizes you're standing there, "Your lover, he's here." She abruptly turns back around ignoring your inquiry of who she is referring to. You see Gojo and Megumi talking in the kitchen and decide to go talk to them instead of standing there looking awkward. You couldn't see from the angle you were at, but the brunette bob cigarette girl was also standing with them chatting.
Gojo waves you over to the conversation, putting a playful arm around your shoulders. "So sweetheart," Satoru starts, slurring his words a little more than he was the last time you talked to him, "Were trying to place bets on who's going to hook up with who tonight."
"Shoko has money on Suguru and Yuki, Megumi bets on Nobara and Yuji, and me, well I have money on you and Megumi." The four of you errupt in laughter and yelling over top of each other of who is correct.
"What are we arguing about?" Another voice asks that just came into the kitchen. You turn to see who it is with Gojo's arm still loosely hanging onto you.
"Suguruuuu" Satoru coos, "Finally joined the party! Shoko here thinks you're going to hook up with Yuki tonight."
"Like hell," he mutters looking to see who his best friends choice of girl is for the evening, before his eyes land on you. You can't help but drop your jaw at the beautiful barista from the cafe standing in front of you. It looks like he just showered, wet hair which is half up half down, and you can smell the fresh body wash radiating off of him.
"Who'd you bet Satoru?" Suguru questions, still having his eyes focused on you.
"I bet little miss y/n here and her boy toy Megumi." He responds and your cheeks flush at the fact this beautiful man may think you're not interested because of Gojo's fat mouth.
"Who'd you bet on?" Shoko asks directed towards Geto.
"I'll have to get back to you on that," he turns to get a drink from the cooler before taking a step outside, you assume to smoke.
You excuse yourself from under Satoru's arm, leaving him Megumi and Shoko to talk about more random gossip. Heading to the backdoor, you try to build up some courage to introduce yourself to this Geto guy. Much to your dismay, as you are walking out of the door in your own thoughts, another person was coming through the door to go inside but was a lot more solid than you. Bouncing back onto your ass you giggle, "I'm so so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you look up to meet the amber eyes you've been thinking about for the past week. It feels like the wind has gotten knocked out of you seeing how close your faces were with him grabbing your hand to help you up.
“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to knock you over like that,” he slightly laughs. “I’m just grabbing a lighter,” letting go of your hand holding the door open.
“Oh I have one here!” You pull it out of your pocket kicking yourself for showing it to someone else again. Well maybe it will at least start a conversation. You hand it to him and he lights his cigarette, not making a comment and hands it back to you. You also decide to light a cigarette, trying your best to look cool doing it but because of the wind you’re having a little trouble. Suguru sticks up his hand to block the wind for you. His damn hands. It’s like as big as your face up close and you say “thanks” with the cigarette hanging out of your mouth now lit.
“Y/n? Is that your name?” He breaks the silence first.
“Yes, are you Suguru?” You ask sweetly back
“Suguru Geto, the one, the only, barista extrodinaire,” he laughs and draws a puff.
“I like your laugh.” You blurt out, now realizing your judgement is a little impaired from your weed alcohol and nicotine pairing. “Sorry that just kind of came out.”
“That’s okay,” he stares at you with kind eyes ashing his cigarette against Gojos house.
“Did you like the matcha today?” He asks after you don’t respond.
“Actually no,” you bust out laughing, “I don’t like matcha I was just distracted when she was ordering.”
“Distracted by what?” He asks.
“You,” you realize how close your faces are and how intimate the moment is with your glowing cigarettes and how intoxicating the mix of his smell is.
He nods and smirks at your response, glancing down at your lips. “I think I want to get to know you more y/n.”
You gather all the courage that you haven’t had with this man for the past few days and put it all in your lips and lean in to kiss him. He kisses back, graciously, putting his hand against the back of your head as you place your hand on his hard pec. He depends the kiss, moving his lips passionately before entering his tongue into your mouth. His free hand wraps around your waist.
Just as things are getting intense you hear Nobara squeal in the kitchen, “GOJO LOOK!” You both break the kiss laughing, but still pressed up against him.
“I think I may know who my bet is on for tonight,” he winks and gives you another kiss, making your knees weak and release a tiny whimper into his mouth. You pray he didn’t hear it, but instead he asks, “needy daddy’s girl?”
You feel your cheeks grow so warm and cover your face with your hands. “Just kidding pretty girl, your lighter was cute though.”
reblogs and comment for a part 2 ?? 🤭🤭
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afewproblems · 1 year
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Part Two of my Stranger Things Steddie AU, Steve always fall first, falls fastest. You can read part one Here!
Eddie watches as Steve peels out of the driveway, staring straight ahead with a blank vacant expression on his face. He looks at Jeff, who shrugs and takes one last hit from their joint before flicking it onto the concrete and stubbing it out.
Eddie frowns, Steve usually waits until Eddie is ready to leave before they both drive home, saying one last goodnight on the driveway.
The evenings grow longer and longer with each passing day as they crawl their way into summer, but it's dark now. The warmth of the day gives way to a cool breeze that ruffles Eddie's hair, and rustles the grass. He shivers lightly and rolls his shoulders before turning on his heel towards the garage. Light streams out from the door, illuminating Eddie's puzzled face as he walks back inside.
Gareth looks up at him, catching his eyes once before they drop to the bottle in his hands. His fingers play with the paper label, peeling it up at the corners.
Steve would always show up, like clockwork, every Sunday with a six pack of some variety, and sit in on their practices. It's nice, not something he ever would have predicted after surviving being nearly eaten alive by a bunch of bats from another dimension.
But if the new scars and nightmares come as a set with a few new friends that had dragged him out of Hell, who was he to complain?
He likes Robin, likes her dry wit and stubborn attitude, she loves fiercely once you've been chosen but doesn't seem shy about calling you an idiot if you deserve it.
He likes Nancy, likes how smart and unexpectedly tough she is, the woman can shoot a gun like no one's business. She's a bit more prickly than Robin, which is saying something, but she cares a lot.
He likes Steve.
He really likes Steve.
Steve, who had picked him up when he was bleeding out and ragdolling in the Upside Down and carried him through the last open gate. 
Steve, who sings along to Tears for Fears and Wham! in his car only to turn around and pull out a Queen cassette from the glove department.
Steve, who bitches and moans about driving the kids around to the arcade or to the Munson trailer for D&D nights, but never says no.
Steve, who stays up with Eddie during movie nights and listens to his wild ramblings without interrupting. He smiles and asks questions that prompt even longer responses, and seems content to simply listen.
Steve, who is definitely straight as an arrow, and would probably panic if he found out about Eddie and his little secret.
"Hey uh," Eddie asks after a beat, reaching for the last unopened beer in the cardboard, "did Steve have to go?"
He twists the cap and flicks it towards the bin, it bounces off the lip and clinks against the floor.
"Woah, I didn't know we knew Larry Bird?" Jeff snorts as he wanders through the door and exaggeratedly ducks with his hands over his head before dropping next to Gareth on the couch. Eddie rolls his eyes as Jeff relaxes against the sagging cushions and drapes his arms along the back.
Gareth's eyes flick once to Jeff before coming back to rest on Eddie's face, "I uh, dunno man, I think Steve  just had to go home. He didn't really get into it".
Eddie frowns at the tense line of the bassist's shoulders.
"Who cares man,” Jeff scoffs with a smirk, “now we can actually talk about our set list without having to stop and explain every little thing”.
Gareth winces and closes his eyes with a shake of his head.
"Oh, fuck off," Eddie snarls as he steps towards Jeff who freezes at the sudden proximity, "I didn't say anything when you insisted on bringing Mary O'Donnell around to every other practice two years ago--"
"What the fuck does that have to do with anything?" Jeff growls as he stands up, rising up to Eddie's eye level, "I liked Mary, you told me to go for it?"
"Exactly!" Eddie yells. He breathes in sharply as the words finally register.
Oh shit.
"Oh shit..." Gareth whispers.
Jeff's mouth opens and closes, his expression jumps from incredulity before dropping into shock.
Eddie had done a lot of growing in the last few weeks if he did say so himself, and he did - loudly and to whoever would listen. He could be brave, he had proved that with Dustin and the bats, he had proved that by diving into Lovers Lake to chase after Steve.
Bravery was no longer a first for him, he could stand his ground and hold firm in the face of adversity. 
But the Upside Down had nothing on admitting that he had a crush on the former ‘King-Steve’ to his two best friends. 
Eddie whirls around and walks out of the garage. 
He makes it about twenty feet before rapid footsteps echo behind him, not that he had been moving all that quickly.
The world feels as though he's wading through quicksand, each step dragging him down, he sighs and stops walking. 
Gareth catches up, mild surprise etched on his face. 
Eddie's eyes trail from Gareth back towards the garage, Jeff stands in silhouette just outside the door. 
"Come on man," Gareth says softly, "just come back inside, we didn't know--"
"What am I even doing," Eddie mutters, he scrubs a rough hand against his face, "I know how it sounds dude, you don't have to chase after me, I know I'm being an idiot". 
Gareth freezes for a moment and crosses his arms. His eyes scan Eddie's face as though he can read every wild thought traipsing through his mind, it's not a comfortable feeling.
In the distance Jeff cups his hands around his mouth and yells, "Gareth! Did you tell him, we didn't know?" 
Gareth rolls his eyes and throws a hand behind him to swat the air, as though he wishes Jeff's head were there instead.
"For what it's worth," Gareth says with a sigh, "I don't think you're being an idiot…" the words come out in stops and starts, as though each one is weighed carefully before being released. 
Gareth was always careful when he spoke, more level headed than Eddie and Jeff, that's why they worked well together. Whenever Eddie or Jeff said something that went too far, Gareth was ready to pull them both back down to earth. 
"Steve actually seems like a decent guy I guess, kinda surprised about it but whatever,"  Gareth shakes his head once before breathing out through his nose, "and you're absolutely sure about this?"
Eddie doesn't even think before he nods, "Yeah man, I'm crazy about him". 
Gareth hums, his eyes haven't left Eddie's face once the entire time they've been standing on the sidewalk in the dark, they are in between street lights but that doesn’t seem to stop Gareth from reading Eddie like a book. 
"Okay, I'm going to tell you something, but if this goes absolutely sideways, I cannot be held responsible in any way," Gareth says once again in that slow, measured pace.
"Jesus, I've never known you to be this cryptic man, I kind of love it," Eddie huffs nervously, his hands dropping to his jeans to wipe the sweat from his palms. A light breeze catches him once again, caressing his hair as it billows down the lane, he shivers. 
"Steve likes you, we all know -well maybe not Bozo over there," Gareth gestures back towards the garage where Jeff continues to linger, "but you're not an idiot".
Eddie blinks. 
Steve likes him. 
Steve likes him? 
"What uh…what are you talking about?" Eddie manages, the words stick to his tongue, his mouth suddenly drier than the sahara. 
Gareth breathes out heavily and shifts, his hands come back up to cross over his chest. 
"Dude, please don't make me explain it, you seriously didn't know?"
"No?!" Eddie hisses, his hands climb to his hair, gripping the wild curls and pulling harshly. Steve liked him? How long had this been going on for? How long had he been completely oblivious? 
"I mean, I kinda thought you were waiting him out, trying to let him down easy, you're not the kind of person to string someone along so I hoped it wasn't because you liked the attention," Gareth mumbles with a shrug. 
Eddie's heart beats a wild staccato as the information continues to sink in, Steve likes him…
"Oh my God," Eddie whispers, "oh my God I-I have to go," he steps away, his shoes crunching against gravel as he turns on the spot, "I have to talk to him!" 
Gareth nods, a small bewildered smile blooms on his face as he shakes his head, "I mean, yeah man, go get him?" 
Eddie takes off past Gareth towards his van, still parked on the driveway, he flips off Jeff as the other man hoots and blows a kiss after him.
But it doesn't matter. A giddy euphoria bubbles up from his chest and throws itself from his lips as a wild cackle. He tosses open the door to the van and scrambles inside, Gareth's words echo over and over in his mind, Steve likes him, he has a chance!
The normally twenty-minute drive from Gareth's parents place seems to take forever, he hits all eight lights on the normally sleepy mainstreet and with every stop Eddie feels like he's vibrating out of his pants. 
He finally reaches the Harrington House, pulls haphazardly onto the drive and flings himself out of the van, just barely turning off the engine and pulling the Emergency brake on.
Eddie races toward the front steps and raps his knuckles against the door with three successive knocks. The house is dark, no lights, not even the flashes of the sitting room television can be seen from the front window.
For a moment there is nothing, no sound from the other side of the door. Eddie swallows and knocks again.
Then, the porch light flicks on with a metallic click.
The door opens just enough for Eddie to make out the shape of Steve, the hall light remains off, leaving Steve in shadow.
"Eddie?" Steve says, his voice rough, "What are you doing here?" 
"Hey, uh, hey Stevie,” Eddie manages, a wry smile threatening to take over his face the longer he stands in the doorway, “can I come in?" 
Steve hesitates, his hands remain fixed on the door but a slight tremble runs up his arm to his shoulder. 
Eddie falters for a moment, a hint of anxiety slithers through his chest. Was Gareth wrong?  
Steve sighs suddenly and pulls open the door, sliding sideways to let him pass. 
The giddy feeling in Eddie's chest slowly dissipates as he steps over the threshold into the dark foyer. He reaches over to the light switch on the wall and turns it on as Steve curses and turns away abruptly.
"Stevie?" Eddie says, his voice pitched with alarm, "hey what's going on?" 
"Don't, please don't call me that Eds," Steve whispers, his shoulders shake but he remains facing the opposite wall.
Eddie's stomach drops at the wet sound to his voice, the slight hitch, the shake of his shoulders.
"Oh shit Stevie, come here," Eddie says as he reaches for Steve’s shoulder, he grasps it lightly and gently begins to turn the other man towards him. Steve doesn’t move at first, holding firm, staring straight ahead and away from Eddie. 
He only has to smooth his ringed hand along Steve’s shoulder and up his neck and suddenly his arms are full as Steve crashes into him. 
“Oh sweetheart, its okay,” Eddie whispers. He brings his arms up around Steve, one hand curls into his hair while the other comes up around the small of his back. 
Steve’s face is tucked into his shoulder, his hands grip the fabric of Eddie’s shirt and vest harshly. He shudders and breathes, as though trying to stop the tears as they continue to fall, wetting Eddie's shoulder. 
“Sorry,” Steve mumbles, the words catch in Eddie's hair but he shakes his head at the sound. 
Eddie frowns, “What on earth are you sorry for?”
Steve is quiet for a moment, Eddie takes it as an opportunity to kick the door closed behind them before planting his feet to stabilize the weight of Steve in his arms. 
When he looks back, Steve is facing him. His large hazel eyes are red rimmed and shining with tears, his nose and cheeks are flushed and his hair is a wild mess, but he looks beautiful to Eddie.
“I don’t,” Steve whispers eventually, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable".
It clicks.
Why Gareth was being so careful, so cryptic earlier, why Steve must have left early. 
"Did Gareth say something to you?" Eddie murmurs, the words are soft but there's a hint of anger there. 
Steve stiffens and shakes his head, a little too quickly. He bites his lip and makes to pull away but Eddie holds him tight. 
"Stevie, come on, I can't help if I don't know what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours," Eddie says, his heart beats wildly in his chest as Steve slowly raises his head to catch Eddie's eyes once more.
Steve's eyebrows are furrowed slightly, but the slightest hint of hope lingers in those hazel eyes. 
Eddie swallows down his inner voice that screams, run, over and over and over - because isn't that the first tenant of bravery? 
Doing something, even though you're scared shit less?
"I'm going to try something here sweetheart," Eddie says slowly, carefully, all the years hanging out with Gareth have paid off in the strangest way.
He slowly leans in and presses his lips, dry and chapped, to Steve's.
It's soft, nothing more than skin to skin, Steve is frozen as though his body doesn't know how to process what's happening and God Dammit that's not what Eddie is hoping for. 
But then, Steve's eyes flutter closed and his body melts and his arms slide from the front of Eddie's shirt into his hair and around his neck and he's kissing him.
He's kissing him!
It's a little wet, Steve tastes like tears and his nose is running slightly but it's still perfect.
Eddie smiles and reaches us to cup Steve's cheek with one hand, his thumb caresses along his cheekbone across the constellation of freckles and moles on Steve's face.
Beautiful.
Eddie swipes the barest hint of tongue along the seam of Steve's lips before catching himself, slow and steady.
Eddie pulls back but leaves his hand on Steve's face and smiles widely at the dazed expression on his face. 
"You with me sweetheart?" Eddie whispers, grazing his thumb once more across Steve's cheek as he says it.
A deep blush blooms across Steve's face, spanning from the tips of his ears, across his cheeks, and down to his neck. Eddie files that reaction away for later.
"Yeah Eds, I'm with you," Steve says softly with his own small smile. 
There's a lot to talk about still, but it's certainly a start as Eddie leads Steve down the familiar hallway and into the sitting room.
And Eddie can't wait.
For everyone that asked to be tagged once part two was up, here you go! (I hope these tags worked, I haven't used Tumblr in FOREVER)
@what-am-i-doing-with-my-non-lifeon-life @henderdads @unclewaynemunson @wearelosersyoudumbfuck @samcoxramblings @stevesbipanic @cicadabeat @xthehatchick @cr0w-culture @moonshadows-13 @tv-mind @classicdinosaurdeathpose
And to @monstrousfemale who wrote such a beautiful second part to my initial post (please go check it out because it is lovely) I hope this holds a candle to yours! Thank you again for going over linking posts!!
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coopigeoncoo · 7 months
Text
The Space Between Stars
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Pairing: Bubaigawara Jin x Gender Neutral Reader
Rating: General Audiences
Tags: Smoking, Burglary, Home Invasion, First Meetings, Meet Ugly, Domestic Fluff
Written as part of @shibaraki's KOMOREBI Milestone Collab!
---
You thought your terrible day couldn't get any worse, but then you come home and accidentally interrupt a burglary in progress.
What follows is a series of questionable decisions you probably should have thought Twice about.
---
"Uh- hello!" The man greeted with a nervous laugh, tugging the mask that was scrunched up on the top half of his face a little further down his nose, fumbling the corner of the TV slightly as he did so. "Don't freak out.  I can explain."
"Yeah?" You murmured distantly, thoughts frantically racing as you tried to process the entire scene playing out before you. 
Something in the man seemed to suddenly shift; his jaw clenching tightly and his shoulders pulling taut in a way that made your focus instantly sharpen- the same way all the animals in nature documentaries did when they finally realized a predator was in their midst.
"I'm stealing your TV."
---
Continue reading below or follow the link to Ao3!
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Today has been an awful day.
Not because any single, overwhelmingly bad thing had happened; you had just been worn down by a never ending gauntlet of unfortunate events.
Sometime during the night your phone cord had come unplugged and fully drained your phone battery, which meant that you woke up long after you had set your original and backup alarms to sound.  As a result, you didn't have time for breakfast and ended up just using mouthwash instead of stopping to fully brush your teeth, but even that time save wasn't enough to keep you from missing your usual train.  
You'd tripped on an uneven patch of sidewalk heading out to lunch and irreparably scuffed up the toes of your favorite dress shoes, and the presentation you had been working for the past two weeks to put together was somehow missing the last; and most integral, set of slides.  
The subsequent verbal lashing that your boss and, more embarrassingly, your boss's boss, had given you lasted so long you'd ended up missing the train.
Again.
And as you sought to pass the time waiting for the next train to arrive by messing around on your phone, you discovered that the person you'd been seriously flirting with on the online dating site had suddenly blocked you without notice.  
So when the skies opened up on your walk home, pouring down buckets of rain with such force that your skin stung from the impact, you comforted yourself with the knowledge that you could spend the rest of the day holed up in your apartment.  You'd slip into some pajamas, snuggle up on the couch with your favorite blanket, and veg out in front of the TV you had scrimped and saved to buy; doing your best to forget that today even happened while you yelled at quiz show contestants for chiming in with incorrect answers.  Perhaps you'd even go a step further and spend the commercial breaks on your phone, making wish lists full of products you'd never actually buy- letting yourself indulge in the fantasy of filling your overpriced and miniscule apartment with whatever gadgets and bits of decor that caught your interest.  
It wouldn't completely erase your misery, but it was the best you could do on a limited budget and exactly enough energy to shuffle from your bedroom to the living room after you peeled off your drenched work clothes.  
But your plans of relaxation were immediately foiled when you opened the door of your first floor apartment and were greeted by the sight of a man in a skintight black and white body suit trying to shove your brand new TV through your living room window; the bottom pane filled with with a spider web of cracks that spread even further with every heaving attempt to shove the flat-screen through the too small opening.  He froze when he noticed you, a cigarette dangling from his bottom lip as his scruffy jaw dropped open in surprise from your sudden appearance.  
"Uh- hello!" The man greeted with a nervous laugh, tugging the mask that was scrunched up on the top half of his face a little further down his nose, fumbling the corner of the TV slightly as he did so. "Don't freak out.  I can explain."
"Yeah?" You murmured distantly, thoughts frantically racing as you tried to process the entire scene playing out before you. 
Something in the man seemed to suddenly shift; his jaw clenching tightly and his shoulders pulling taut in a way that made your focus instantly sharpen- the same way all the animals in nature documentaries did when they finally realized a predator was in their midst.
"I'm stealing your TV."
And with that proclamation, your last frayed thread of patience snapped.
"Of course you are!" You laugh, frustrated tears welling up quickly and blurring your vision. "Why wouldn't you be?  It's not like my day could get any worse !"
"Hey, now- don't cry!" The man pleaded, thoughtlessly reaching out towards you with shaking hands, the TV nearly crashing to the floor as he released his hold on it; barely managing to catch the corner with a sharp curse and lower it gently to the floor.  "I'm not gonna hurt you or nothing- I'm just going to rob you a little !"
"A little? A little?" You shriek, wiping at your wet cheeks in frustration. "You're taking the most expensive thing I own!  That feels like an awful lot of robbing to me!"
"That's- that's a fair point," the man conceded, scratching at his exposed chin nervously as he looked around your bare bones apartment with a critical eye; taking note of your collection of second hand furniture and threadbare curtains your old roommate's cat had delighted in shredding.  
"I'm too tired to deal with this right now," you whimper as you take a step backwards into the breezeway, exhaustion winning out over more situationally appropriate emotions like absolute panic.  "Take whatever you want, but I would really appreciate it if you could leave the urn on the bookcase alone.  My Grandma is in there."
"I'd never-!" The man gasped, affronted by the implication he'd be despicable enough to make off with a jar full of Grandma dust.
"You're literally in the process of robbing me!" You laugh wetly, wiping your running nose onto your soaking wet sleeve.  "I don't think you're allowed to be offended by my assumptions about the quality of your character right now."
"I'm sorry. This isn't- this isn't the kind of person I want to be," the man whispered, his nervously wringing hands tightening into shaking fists. "This is who I have to be."
"Whatever," you huff dismissively.  "It doesn't really matter.  Close the window on your way out so the rain doesn't soak down to the floorboards."
"You gonna call the cops on me?" The man asked, nervously puffing on the cigarette in his mouth, the pungent clove smoke pulled towards you by the cross breeze; drifting straight into your face and making you recoil.  
"I don't live on the right side of the city for the police to care about a stolen TV," you inform him, grimacing at the tinkling sound of the buffeting rain upgrading into hailstones.  "I'm just going to duck into a store or something.  I'll be back in like, an hour, so it would be great if you could wrap up taking my stuff and be gone by then.  It's getting late and I still need to cook dinner."
And with those parting words you gently pulled the door closed behind you and, recognizing the futility of locking a door during an active home invasion; stepped back out into the freezing rain without looking back.
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The only store on your block that had bothered to stay open in such terrible weather was a tiny holistic store crammed in between a pawn shop and a seafood market.  The shop owner, a serious faced woman with her hair slicked back into a painfully tight looking bun, did her best to cover up the pervasive fish odor that seeped in from the neighboring business by having three oil diffusers running all at once; but the only thing it really accomplished was adding nauseating strong floral notes to the briny air.  
You felt bad lingering in her store for so long without buying anything, so after a drawn out production of pretending to consider buying crystals in a variety of cuts and sizes while internally balking at the price tags, you settled on purchasing a mood ring from one of the clearance displays.  It had a large band size, too large for your fingers for sure, but it was the only thing that you could afford to purchase now that you'd have to start saving for a replacement TV. 
The woman behind the counter was obviously disappointed with your thriftiness, but you pretended to ignore her sourly pursed lips as she thanked you for your business and recommended you return at a later date to have your aura cleansed.
"It's all muddy, you know," she informed you with a disapproving huff, tugging firmly on the stiff collar of her dress shirt to shift it back into place.  "An aura that messy will only invite trouble and stress."
In your experience, trouble and stress never needed an invitation, but instead of voicing your thoughts you held your tongue, jammed the mood ring onto your thumb, and thanked her for the concern; snagging a business card in a show of false interest before bracing yourself for yet another slog through the rain.  
It wasn't coming down quite so hard anymore, but you were already so thoroughly drenched that the waning storm felt like a meaningless show of mercy from the universe at large; a waste of whatever finite karma you'd accrued during your life thus far.  
You'd boldly assumed that coming home to some guy stealing your TV would be the most surprising thing you'd walk in on today, but nothing could match the absolute astonishment you felt when you entered back into your apartment for the second time that evening.   
It had been easy to imagine that your place would be a ransacked disaster at this point, electronics long gone and your personal effects scattered around haphazardly as the intruder fruitlessly searched for valuables.  Instead, everything was in the same, or better, condition than you'd left it in.  
The TV had been returned to its proper place on your third-hand entertainment stand, a large scratch on the side of the frame but seemingly no worse for the wear as the weatherman on screen droned on about the unprecedentedly large storm rolling through the city.  The cracked window had been covered In layers of carefully placed packing tape to keep it from shattering completely; a towel spread out on the carpet beneath it to soak up the rainwater that had collected inside during the thief's botched getaway.
All the shoes in your entryway, the ones you normally kicked off and left where they landed, had been lined up in neat pairs next to the coat closet.  The blanket you'd left crumpled on your lumpy couch after a quick nap yesterday had been neatly draped over the back of the sofa.
And the thief, who you thought would be long gone by now, had made himself at home in your kitchenette.  With a set of mismatched hot pads on his hands he pulled a half sheet pan out of the countertop oven, the telltale aroma of baking bread filling every corner of your small apartment and driving out the lingering stench of cigarette smoke.  Desperately, you wondered if he'd noticed your arrival; cautiously rocking back onto your rear foot in preparation for making a quick escape when he called out to you from across the apartment.  
"Don't just stand in the doorway," the man chastised as he slid the hot tray down onto the stovetop, a small saucepan set to simmer on the next burner over.  "You'll let all the warm air out."
"Uh- yeah.  Of course.  Sorry," you apologized reflexively, wildly unsure about what to do but deciding that the best course of action is to likely play along and keep the burglar-turned-baker calm.  Pushing the door closed with a shaking hand, you did your best to keep your breathing calm and level despite the dread violently roiling in your belly; your sense of self preservation blaring in the back of your mind like a siren.  
"Welcome home.  Again," the thief greeted pleasantly, the toothpick in his mouth straining under the force of his clenched teeth. "You said you'd be gone for an hour."
"I- I ran out of stuff to do and figured you'd be gone by now.  And not, you know- staying to clean up my apartment."
"Yeah," the man laughed, rubbing at the back of his half-masked head nervously; hand still shoved into one of your plaid oven mitts.  "This isn't how these sorts of things usually go down."
"Then why did you do it?" You ask with a nervous swallow, the domestic setting making you bolder than the situation would typically dictate. "Stay, I mean?"
"It just- it seemed like you were having a really bad day," the man murmured sheepishly, pulling off the oven mitts one at a time and tossing them down onto a clear swath of counter next to the stove. "And I didn't want to make it any worse."
"Oh."
"This is- so awkward.  I'm sorry," he muttered, scrubbing a hand across the stubble on his chin in frustration.  "I wanted to be gone by the time you got back to avoid all of this."
"It's okay," you say, unsure as to how sincere you actually were.
"It's not okay," the man laughed dryly.  "I was going to rob you- picking up your living room doesn't make it okay!  It doesn't make me okay!"
"You could have done worse."
"I could have," the man nodded solemnly, the action switching to a frantic shaking a moment later. "I wouldn't have."
A realization struck you abruptly.  "Tell me a lie," you demanded.
"What?"
You wrench open the coat closet door and reach inside, pulling out a chunky blue scarf; a gift from a close friend during their brief but prolific crocheting phase. 
"Say this is red," you said, holding the scarf aloft for him to see.  He froze, every one of his muscles set on edge as he stared at the length of knotted yarn in your grasp. 
"I don't know what you're trying to prove here.  You already know that I can't."
"I just- I want to make sure," you insisted, holding the scarf up a fraction higher. "Please."
"Okay," the man said, deflating as he exhaled in defeat.  "The scarf is red.  It's obviously blue."
Emboldened by the first successful test of your hypothesis, you stepped further into the apartment, snagging a purple tissue box off of the coffee table with your free hand and holding it up for the man to see.
"And this?"
"Green.  It's purple."
Gliding further into your apartment, you deposited the scarf and the tissue box onto the card table you ate your meals at, and grabbed an overripe banana from the bowl of half-rotten fruit you kept replenishing each week; ever hopeful that you'd wake up one day with the self restraint necessary to reach for an apple instead of a bag of chips when you felt snacky. 
"This banana?"
"Teal.  Black- that's one nasty looking banana!"
"It is, isn't it?  I should probably just throw it out," you say with a grimace as your finger hits a soft spot on the peel and sinks down into the goey inner banana flesh. 
"Here, catch!" the man called out, tossing a slightly damp dish rag towards you, which you miraculously managed to snatch out of the air.
"Thank you."
"No problem."
It was quiet for a moment while you wiped the mealy banana goo from your finger, digging under your nail with the stiff corner of the towel.  "So you can't lie," you mused. "Is that a Quirk thing?"
"May as well be, I guess," the man sighed, turning to examine the squat loaf of bread cooling on your stove top.  "I want to go ahead and slice this.  You won't freak out if I grab a knife, will you?"
"Depends," you reply evasively with narrowed eyes as he pulled a knife half way out of the knife block, examining the edge with a frown before sliding it back into place.  "Do you plan on slicing me up, too?"
"These knives are so dull I don't think I could even if I wanted to," he groused, pulling another knife out for inspection with a dissatisfied frown. "And I don't want to."
Eyes locked on the intruder's back; you lowered yourself down carefully into the closest dining chair; knees weak and mind reeling from the surreal turn your evening had taken.  "So you don't want my stuff, and you don't want to hurt me- what exactly do you want?"
"What I want-," the man paused, a triumphant fist pump accompanying his discovery of a serrated blade.  "Is for you to try this bread that I made."
"And then you'll leave?"
"I'll leave right now if that's what you want," the man offered, running the scalloped edge across the craggy top crust of the bread and laughing delightedly at the scraping sound it made.  "Do you hear that?  That's one crispy crust!  This loaf is gonna be goooood."
"How did you even make bread, anyway?  I know for a fact that I don't have any yeast."
"You don't really have much of anything.  Believe me, I checked," the man grinned cheekily over his shoulder at you, as though he thought his confession about rifling through your apartment was  charming and not a blatant invasion of privacy.  "But lucky for you, I'm well versed in poverty meals.  Mix up a basic bread dough, add in a beer where the yeast should be, shove that baby into the oven and you're ready to go!  There's a bit more to it than that."
"Well, it smells wonderful.  This is probably the best this apartment has ever smelled."
"No kidding!  You get a discount for having the unit right above the dumpster?"
"I wish," You sighed forlornly, taking a moment to imagine how much easier your life would be with even a slightly lower cost of living.  "But taking out the trash is pretty convenient, I can just drop it in from the fire escape."
"Bowls?" He inquired as he shut the heat off under the saucepan, giving it one final stir.  
"Oh- I only have a couple.  They're probably on the drying rack."
He salutes you sharply before shuffling off to follow your instructions, carefully selecting and stacking the dishes into his arms like they were valuable pieces of china and not the very worst a home store clearance rack had to offer.  You twisted your too-big mood ring anxiously around your thumb, reminding yourself with every turn that the man in front of you, despite his seemingly affable nature, wasn't a guest.  He was an intruder in your home, no better than the mice that darted behind your fridge when you turned the kitchen light on in the middle of the night.
Although the mice had never cooked you dinner before, so you suppose that was a point in his favor.  
"Careful- careful," the man whispered quietly to himself, inching across the floor towards you with two bowls of soup balanced on his forearm; bracing the overhanging rims with a plate stacked lopsidedly with still steaming bread slices.  He gingerly deposited the bowls onto the table, sliding yours to a stop directly in front of you without any of the broth sloshing over the edge; an impressive feat considering that he'd filled it up to the brim. 
"Nailed it!" He crowed in pride, tossing the plate full of bread down onto the table unceremoniously, the thick slices nearly bouncing off the plate from his rough handling.  Collapsing into the folding chair opposite if you in what could only be described as a sprawl, you watch with thinly veiled interest as he pushes his mask up over the bridge of his nose.  Nostrils fully uncovered, he hunches over the bowl of soup and inhales deeply, flapping his hands to fan the aromatic vapors directly towards his face.
"Not too shabby for a can of soup and leftover veggies!"
"Is that what this is?" You ask curiously, giving the soup a small stir, trudging up a floret of seared broccoli that definitely came from takeout earlier in the week.  
"Don't be shy now.  Dig in!" The man encouraged, placing a large chunk of soup-drenched bread into his mouth with a happy sigh.  The soup was perfectly edible, nothing to write home about but still a notable effort considering the meager ingredients your kitchen had to offer.  But the bread was a different story entirely.
"This crust is incredible!" You gasp, the dry crumbs sticking to your lips.  
"A good dinner for a rainy night," the man stated, holding his half devoted bread slice out towards yours.  "Cheers?"
"Cheers!" You laugh, pushing your slice of bread against his; the crusts impacting and sending a dusting of flaky bread crumbs tumbling onto the surface of the table.
"Whoopsy-daisy!  I'll get that, don't worry," the man reassured you, licking his finger and tapping it across the table, picking up crumbs as he went.  
"'Whoopsy-daisy', huh?" You muse, sipping at a spoonful of soup thoughtfully. "How many kids do you have?"
"Kids? Oh, no- I don't- I don't have any of those," he stammered, shoving his crumb covered finger into his mouth and removing it with a comical pop.  "Her name's Himiko."
"That's…quite the discrepancy between those two answers."
"Himiko isn't- she's not mine, mine.   But she's mine, you know?  In all the ways that should matter."
"So you love her then?"
"Of course I do.  She's a great kid."
"That's all that matters then, isn't it?" You smiled sincerely, the first grin of the evening not strained through a filter of worry.  The man seemed to notice the subtle shift in your demeanor, the tension in his posture softening ever so slightly as he somehow managed to slouch even farther down in his seat.
It had been a long time since you'd eaten alone with someone.  You went out after work with colleagues sometimes, but the places that you always ended up were crowded and noisy; tables and booths crammed to near bursting to accommodate the ravenous waves of dinner rush patrons.  The last meal you'd eaten at home with someone was likely before you moved into this apartment, when you still lived off-campus with a couple of roommates you liked progressively less with each passing week.  
You'd been beyond thrilled to land a job that paid enough to allow you to live alone, even though affording to do so meant relocating across town to a less desirable zip code.  But a slight downgrade in living conditions was well worth the benefit of knowing you'd never again have to live through the experience of walking in on your roommate and their booty call having sex on your bed because it was 'more comfortable' than theirs. 
While you would never miss the stacks of unwashed dishes left to putrefy in the sink or having to wipe urine splatters off of the toilet seat before you could relieve yourself, it was hard to deal with the constant quiet sometimes.  The drone of the TV couldn't replace someone asking about your day or replicate the joy of shared laughter.  
And you couldn't help but wonder if it was a similar situation for the man across from you.  
"Is it okay for me to ask your name?" You murmur quietly, eyes locked on your own hands as you push a tomato chunk around your bowl with the back of your spoon.  "I understand if you don't want me to know.  The less I probably know about you the better, huh?  I'm sorry, that was stupid of me.  Forget I said anything-"
"Twice.  You should call me Twice," the man interrupted; letting out an irritated grunt before opening his mouth once more.  "I want you to call me Jin."
Thrown off balance once again by his contradictory requests, your brain races frantically to find some sort of middle ground between the two.
"Do you want me to call you Jin…twice?  Like, JinJin?"
"That's a little ah- intimate , dontcha' think?" Jin said, a nervous cough punctuating his sentence sharply.  He pulled the bottom edge of his mask down further, trying to cover up the tell-tale embarrassed burn of his cheeks without compromising his ability to eat.  "Just Jin is fine."
"Alright.  Thank you for the meal, Jin.  This is a much nicer dinner than I would have put together for myself, even if I hadn't been delayed by some guy breaking into my apartment," you joked, sending a pointed look Jin's way; politely averting your eyes and pretending not to notice his splotchy blush creeping even further down his cheeks.
"A burglar, huh?  Sounds like a real heel."
"Maybe," you murmured thoughtfully as you watched Jin try and cram an entire slice of bread into his mouth at once.  "But I don't think he's all that bad."
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Jin, having gone back for a second serving of soup, was the last to finish eating.  You swooped in and grabbed his bowl before he could object, placing it on the counter as you waited for the sink to finish filling so you could begin washing the dishes. 
"You don't have to do that," Jin grumbled from his position behind you, standing close enough for you to feel him nervously shuffling from foot to foot.  "I can clean up after myself. "
"Nope, sorry.  It's the house rules," you sighed forlornly, acting as though you weren't the sole person responsible for making those rules.  "If you cook, you don't clean up."
"Is there anything else I could do?  Help you out a little more?"
"I guess you could help me dry?" You offer, scooting over slightly to make room for him in your tiny kitchen area. 
"Aye-aye, Captain!" Jin saluted as he slotted into place next to you, grabbing the dripping wet cup you offered out to him with one hand and picking up a dry dishrag with the other.  
The sounds of clinking cutlery and the slow but steady dripping of your faucet worked together with the rumbling storm outside to craft a peaceful atmosphere; one that helped soften the sharp edges of reality and allowed you to gloss over the fact that you were having a very pleasant time with the man who had started out the evening with the intention of robbing you blind.  
It was reckless and stupid, but you couldn't help but worry a little about what would happen to Jin once he left your apartment.  If he was desperate enough to resort to theft for some quick cash, you couldn't help but wonder and worry about what sort of life awaited him outside of the cramped comfort of your home.  
"Are you going to be okay?  Once you leave?" You ask, prying up a stubborn piece of dried food from the tines of a fork with your fingernail.  
"That's one heck of a loaded question!" Jin laughed sharply.  "The world is an absolute mess right now, society is on the brink of collapsing in on itself- I don't think anyone is going to be okay for a long, long time."
"Yeah, but- there's nothing I can do about any of that stuff," you sigh quietly, watching the small bubbles on the surface of the water swirl around your wrists.  "But I can help you, if you need it.  I probably have enough money to put you up at a hotel for the night.  Keep you out of the storm."
"You're too kind," Jin murmured quietly, his voice heavy with appreciation.  "But I don't want you to worry about me, okay?  Things are…difficult right now.  But it won't last forever."
"I wish I had your optimism."
"It's not optimism," Jin said, placing the last plate into the drying rack next to the sink and passing you the dish towel to wipe your hands on. 
"What is it then?" You asked, unable to fully dry your hands on the wet cloth, so you settled for simply wiping off the lingering film of bubbles from the back of your hands.  
"Experience,” he said, scratching thoughtlessly at the scruff growing unevenly across his exposed jaw.  “My life has always been- well, bad.  Mostly.  I used to really hate that.  Thought it wasn't fair.  But now I don't mind so much."
"Why not?"
"Well, eventually I realized that the bad times I went through made all the good things in my life seem even better," he said, turning his head to gaze out of your taped up window, as though he would be able to see the sky and not the moldering plaster exterior of the apartment complex next to yours. "Stars wouldn't be anything special if it wasn't for all that dark space between em', you know?"
You thought back on your day, on the series of disastrous events that had weighed you down soured your disposition, and how now; with the passage of time and the balm of Jin's companionship, the day didn't feel quite so dreadful in retrospect.
"I hope you saved room for dessert," you smiled, turning to riffle through a cabinet for the small package of cookies you kept tucked away for emergencies.
"Thanks, but I'm still full from dinner.  There's always room for a treat or two!"
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The bag of cookies, already half empty from propping you up emotionally during the dramatic season finale of the show you'd binged last weekend, didn't last long.  But you and Jin did your best to stretch out the warm comfort of the evening as long as you could; chatting over the commercials as the emergency weather broadcast came to a conclusion.  
"Welcome back, viewers!" A man with slicked back hair and an unfortunate mustard colored blazer greeted as the title card for the incoming show disappeared from the screen.  "You're tuned in to 'Top 10 at 10', the show where we look back at the week's top moments from the Top Ranked Heroes!  Next up is the Winged Hero: Hawks, swooping in for a rescue-!"
"Ugh," you groan, patting the couch cushions around you in search of the remote.  "Is the controller over by you?  I want to change the channel."
"Nope, no controller," Jin said, his focus solely on the TV as the Number Two Hero crashed through a window on the top most floor of a burning apartment building. "So, you're not a Hawks fan I take it?"
"Hawks gives me weird vibes," you admit, lifting up a throw pillow to peer down into the space next to the arm of the sofa as Hawks waved casually on the screen, a shaking Pomeranian tucked securely under his arm as he floated to the ground.  "I don't trust people who always smile.  It feels like they're trying to hide something."
"You're a good judge of character, aren't you?" Had you been less focused on your frantic search for the remote you would have noticed Jin's uncomfortable fidgeting and repeatedly clenching fists, but you'd missed those telltale signs that preceded a shift in his personality.  So the sudden appearance of that voice, the brash one you'd grown accustomed to hear chiding and correcting Jin's half-truths, was unnerving.  You wondered how loud his unspoken thoughts must be for that second voice to feel the need to comment on Jin's internal dialogue.  
"I used to think so," you laugh dryly, the hand you'd been using to fish around in the couch coming up with a fistful of crumbs and an old tin of forgotten breath mints.  "But recent events definitely have me reevaluating that assumption about myself."
"You shouldn't-," Jin swallowed thickly, carefully considering his words; weighting them for sincerity lest he stray too far off the line of authenticity and unwittingly reveal too much.  "Don't make me be the reason you doubt yourself.  I'll take the blame for all sorts of stuff, but I don't want that to be on me, okay?"
"Okay," you whispered, once again fumbling to regain your emotional footing.  Talking with Jin was like walking across a messy room with your eyes closed, constantly tripping up and unsure of what caused you to even stumble in the first place. 
"I mean, if you can't trust yourself, then who can you trust?" Jin asked, his voice only just beneath a bellow and pulled thin at the edges; a manic sort of cry that poorly covered his underlying distress.  "I can't trust myself anymore!"
"You can’t?"
"No.  I- I broke that trust.  I broke myself."
Carefully, you lower yourself down on the cushion next to him; a vulnerable place for an unguarded moment.  "I know that it probably doesn't mean much of anything coming from me- we're pretty much strangers," you admit with a helpless sort of shrug, extending a hand out towards him like you would a cowering animal; slowly, carefully, like you half expected to be bitten for your trouble.  "But I trust you."
"You don't know me.  I don't even know if I'm me," he admits with a watery sniff, accepting your outstretched hand with his shaking fingers.
"This Jin, this you- ," you emphasize with a tight squeeze of your hand. "-is the only one I know.  And I happen to think he's pretty alright."
"Even for a bad guy?"
"You're the best bad guy I know," you assure him readily, the words somehow playful despite their sincerity.  But it seems like Jin was looking for a way out of the mire of introspection he'd waded into and quickly took the metaphorical hand you'd extended; lifting himself out of his head with a breathy chuckle.  
"I am pretty great, aren't I?"
"A terrible thief, but an excellent chef."
"Guess I missed my calling in life!" He grinned brightly, sucking up the bead of snot dripping from his nose.  
"It's never too late to change."
"It is for me."
You waited anxiously, almost desperately for that second voice to cry out in objection, but the room remained silent except for the canned laughter piping in through the TV speakers.  Whatever path Jin was on offered him no alternative, no deviation from the bumpy road beneath his feet.  
"Earlier, you told me that this isn't who you want to be.  That this is who you have to be."
"Who I need to be.  Who they need me to be."
"Will you do something for me?" You asked, easily sliding the mood ring off of your thumb and spinning it between the fingers of your free hand.  "One last favor and we'll call it even?"
"Of course," Jin nodded solemnly as his chest puffed up; proud to be entrusted with carrying out a task for you.
"When you have the chance, I want you to make the choice you want.  Be the Jin you want to be," you pleaded, sliding the mood ring easily onto his much larger pointer finger.  
"This like a promise ring or something?"
"I suppose," you hum thoughtfully. "But only if you promise."
He held the ring up in front of his face, watching the colors swirl and shift rapidly across the gleaming black stone; far more active than it had been on your own hand.  Jin clenched his fist, locking the ring onto his finger like he was scared it might tumble from his grasp and disappear into the unknown abyss alongside your remote, never to be seen again.  You couldn't see his eyes, only the expressive patterning on his mask that managed to contort with his fluctuating disposition, but there was a sudden weight upon your shoulders that let you know that you were the sole object of his intense focus.  
Jin lifted his ringed hand into the air between you, splaying his fingers wide in front of your face.  The dark, swirling gem of his ring glimmering merrily from the vicinity of your forehead, a third eye for Jin to take with him; an eye that would see him in the way he craved- as the Jin that existed solely in your gaze.  
"I promise."
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The night, as all things, could not last forever.  But you were unprepared for the abrupt way that Jin threw himself up from the couch when the late night News broadcast cut to live coverage of a crime in progress; a patch-skinned man cackling in delight as he threw bright blue flames from the back of a speeding van at pursuing police vehicles.  
"That idiot, " he hissed, patting his sides and butt like he was checking for keys or a phone that were very obviously not tucked into his spandex suit.  "I have to go."
"Oh ,"  you manage to say through the clenching knot of dismay that had tied itself up in your chest.  “Will you come back?"
"I- I shouldn't," he whispered, regret palpable in every syllable.  "I want to."
Hastily, you stumbled to your feet and strode across the living room, grabbing the ceramic urn you had on prominent display before circling back and stopping directly in front of Jin. 
"Here,” you said, pushing the vase firmly into Jin's arms.  “Take this.”  
"For the last time, I'm not going to take your Grandma!" Jin cried in exasperation, pushing the floral patterned urn back into your arms. 
"Please," you snorted, lifting off the lid and pulling out a small plastic bag of gray ashes, shaking it back and forth in the air. "This isn't actual people powder.  It's a bunch of charcoal ash I grabbed from my neighbor's grill."
"Then why do you-?"
"I'm not totally naive," you said, hooking your hand on the rim of the urn and gently jostling it, the tell tale clinking of coins echoing from inside.  "Every burglar grabs a piggy bank, but very few think to check a jar of apparent human remains."
"I can't take your savings," Jin protested weakly, staring down longingly at the handfuls of bills scattered amongst the change.  "I'm not gonna steal from you."
"Of course you're not.  First of all, this is a gift ," you emphasize, pushing the urn more firmly against his chest.  "And second, this isn't for you."
"It's not?" Jin asked bewilderedly, twisting his head around to check if a second criminal had snuck into the apartment while he was distracted.
"Nope.  This is for Himiko," you explained, letting go of the vase and stepping back so Jin had no choice but to tighten his grip on the money jar or let it crash to the ground.  "Buy her something nice, okay?  And treat yourself while you’re at it."
"I- I will," he promised, unable to refuse your gesture if it meant securing some measure of comfort for Himiko.  Tucking the urn safely into the crook of his arm, Jin tugged his mask down; obscuring his face fully for the first time.  It was impressive how much that narrow swath of exposed skin had been carved into your memory in such a short span of time.  Even now, through the cover of a mask, you could still make out the small hints of Jin that lay beneath; the jut of his chin, the set of his jaw, the jittery way he clicked his teeth together.  
With a grace you wouldn't expect of a man his size, he slipped towards the patched up window, prying up the frame and squeezing an entire leg out onto your fire escape before he noticed your bewildered expression.
"What is it?  What's wrong?"
"You- you don't have to sneak out the window," you explained, pivoting your body to point towards the entryway.  "You can just use the door."
"Right!  The door!  Of course!" Jin laughed, smacking himself in the forehead as he pulled his leg back into your apartment, hopping clumsily on one foot until his appendage was fully free.  "Forgot that you had one of those."
"Well, I hope you don't forget again," you chastise playfully, guiding him out of your front door and into your apartment breezeway.  "Because I sure would appreciate it if you'd knock next time."
"Next time?" Jin asked, voice hitching hopefully at the invitation.
"Bye, Jin," you smiled, giving him a small wave as you slowly closed the door.  "See you later!"
"Right," he murmured, staring down at his fluctuating mood ring, a smile creeping along his face as white specks scattered across the dark blue stone; like stars glimmering brilliantly in the dark night sky. "Later."
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familyvideostevie · 1 year
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omg can I please request a steve blurb with the barista meet cute?! like a customer/customer sort of deal?? I am literally obsessed with that list that you just put out!
ah! this list! i like that list, too <3 thank you for allowing me to write you something from it! | meet cute, 1k
The first time you see him you think he's cute. And like every other cute guy you've seen in passing in your life, you sigh and wish you were the kind of person who flirts with strangers.
But then again, who really wants to be bothered in line at the cafe? So you don't say anything to him, though you do stand next to him while you wait for your coffee. Just for fun. He's boyishly handsome, though you expect that he's around your age, probably off to a job or higher education of some kind after this. Long lashes and a few freckles and moles on his neck, hands tucked into jeans as he rocks back and forth on his heels. You can't believe you've never seen him before. But if you had you know you'd remember.
"Steve!" the barista calls, setting down a cup on the bar. The guy steps forward with a smile and a thank you -- nice voice too, you think. He doesn't really look like a Steve. Maybe a Tommy or a John. When he turns around he makes eyes contact with you and gives you the stranger-to-stranger smile before heading for the door. He's got nice eyes, too. Damn. Have a nice life, Steve.
But then you see him again.
This time, you're there first, already waiting for your drink when he stands near you. He's in blue work pants and a yellow sweater and he looks how you feel: tired beyond belief. It's one of those days when the barista is calling orders and not names, so you're trying to pay attention. When they call your order, you step forward for it, but so does Steve. Your hands brush in front of the cup and he jerks back.
"Oh," he says, shaking his head a bit as if to bring himself back to the present. "Sorry."
"I, uh," you say. "I think this is mine?" He takes a step back and grins ruefully, cheeks a little pink.
"Yeah, yeah, of course," he says. "You were here first."
You duck your head and grab the cup. "Thanks," you say, softly. "Good taste, though!" He looks a little surprised at your attempt at levity before he laughs.
"You too," he says. You raise your cup a little and hurry towards the door.
After that, you keep an eye out for Steve. Sure, you spoke once and you were awkward, but he was cute and it's nice to look forward to the little things, right? But you don't see him for a few weeks. Maybe he found a new shop, or maybe he decided to stop drinking coffee.
It's a pretty busy day at the cafe but you've snagged yourself a small table in a corner to read and sip your drink. It started pouring just after you arrived, so you figure you'll stay for a while rather than get soaked running for your car. You're pretty engrossed in your book, the noise of the shop a buzz in the background, until you realize someone is standing fairly close to you. You look up and it's Steve.
"Hi," he says. His hair is practically dripping wet and he's got a soaked jacket in one hand and a drink cup in another. "Can I sit with you? Till the rain lets up?"
You'd probably say yes to anyone who asked, but you're a little quick on the jump, since it's Steve. The mystery cute guy you've seen...twice.
"Totally," you say. He looks very grateful and sits across from you, draping his dripping jacket across the back of his chair.
"Do you have our usual?" he says, pointing to your cup. You laugh a little. Our usual, you think.
"I do," you tell him. "Do you?" He shakes his head.
"Trying to cut back on the caffeine." He looks at his cup like it's personally wronged him. "Just hot chocolate for me today."
"Ah," you say, taking a sip of your drink. "Tough choice."
He sighs dramatically, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles. "I'm Steve, by the way." He holds up his hot chocolate cup and points to his name written in the hurried hand of the barista. It's a dorky move and he seems to realize it when he quickly sets it back down on the table and rubs the back of his neck.
You copy his movements, pointing to your own cup. Steve says yiour name out loud, nodding like he's committing it to memory. "Well, don't let me bother you," he says, eyeing your book. "Thanks for letting me sit here."
"Oh, you're not bothering me," you say. You dog-ear your page and close it. "It was getting a little slow anyway." His eyebrows raise. "Well, the big thing has already happened, but the main character --" You launch into an explanation about the importance of a compelling recovery from the climax of the plot before you realize it. Steve just watches, mouth curled up at one corner as he slips his drink.
"Sorry," you say, after a few minutes. "You didn't ask to hear me ramble about a book."
"No, no, by all means, keep rambling." You wonder what he'd do if you died of embarrassment right here, at this table.
"Are you a reader?" you ask, face a little hot. He shakes his head.
"No, not really. But that book sounds interesting the way you tell it." You laugh a little, glad he's nice enough not to make fun of you. It would be a real bummer if your coffee shop crush was an asshole. He looks pleased with himself that he's made you laugh. You look out the window and he follows your gaze, now frowning at the continuing deluge.
"Doesn't look like it's going to let up soon," you say softly. You look back at Steve and find that he's already looking at you.
"Well, keep telling me about this unsatisfying main dude," he says. He leans forward in his seat, looking genuinely interested.
"Okay," you say. "But don't forget that you asked for this, Steve." It's the first time you've said his name and you notice that his mouth twitches as you do.
"Somehow I don't think I'll regret it." Your stomach flutters and you roll your eyes but can't hide your smile. The cute guy from the coffee shop is flirting with you. This is better than any book you've ever read.
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!
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copiousloverofcopia · 8 months
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can i 👉👈 request some terzo and a sister who's just super eepy?
❤️‍🔥 Hey there ghestie! ❤️‍🔥
Thank you so much for this ask, it was a really nice change of pace to write, and it means a lot that you asked me.
This is also a very special fic as it is my 100th fic on AO3! That means I will be chosing another giveaway winner soon to add to my list!!!
It's going to be a busy September!!! Hope you all enjoy some fluff with Terzo!
Commissions are OPEN, please see pinned post for Carrd info!
Held
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You have pushed yourself too hard dear sorella, and Terzo is here to remind you that you deserve your rest.
Also available HERE on AO3!
Read below the cut!
"Sorella?" Terzo asked, his voice hitting that sweet inflection at the end. You felt his hand rest on your shoulder, your eyes fluttering open—still heavy and weak. Shifting around on the sofa and pulling your head up to face him. Quickly finding yourself struggling to stay awake long enough to respond. 
"Uh huh." you yawned, wiping the spit strung from your lip to chin, like a spider’s web. A testament to the amount of time you’d surrendered to slumber. Your blurred vision, just barely able to make out your Papa's painted smile. 
"This is the third time I've caught your head dipping down... Are you sure you just don't want me to take you to bed?" he asked, the words sending your eyes open once again, only this time wider with the possible proposition. 
"Oh? I...ah..." you replied, stumbling to find the words as a tinge of red hit your cheeks. Terzo chuckled as he came to stand beside you, enjoying the way he could always make you blush. 
"Ha…not like that amore—well maybe later, but for now you clearly need your rest.” he assured you. Trying to pull you up from where you sat, only to be met with your protests.  
“No…no…I’m almost done.” you told him, rubbing your eyes and trying to shake off the exhaustion. Hoping it might be enough that you could continue to work.
“Have it your way.” Terzo replied as he threw his hands up in the air, frustrated at your insistence. He returned to his own desk, knowing that there was no point in arguing with how stubborn he knew you to be.
You had been at it all day, deciding once you’d gotten on a roll to try working through the night. Desperate to get this last chapter written before leaving the office. Convinced that the more professional scenery would help you focus. The soft blanket Terzo offered you when you and the hum of Jezebel’s purr, however, had made it almost impossible to stay awake.
You had been pushing yourself–and you knew it. Worried you’d run out of time and inspiration. After all, people were counting on you. Waiting for you to quench their thirst—the kind for which only a good story would suffice. 
You were famous amongst the siblings for your literary skills. All of them, brothers and sisters alike, flocking to you so that they might get a taste of the next chapter of your stories. Falling in love with the worlds you created. A place for them to escape into when the real one became too much to bear.  
It was because of this that you pushed—hard and relentless. Sacrificing your own needs to be at the service of others. Hours into your task, Terzo had arrived back into the office. Bringing with him a cup of Primo’s tea to help you focus and the supportive pleasure of his company.  
You worked and worked into the night, pushing yourself more with each passing minute. And while you always felt you could do more—give more, it was clear to Terzo that your wall had been hit. Watching you once again from his desk as the fading sounds of typing and the bobbing of your head gave you away. 
“That’s it.” you heard and before you knew it, you had been scooped up from the sofa. Cradled in your Papa’s arms as he effortlessly toted you from the office and into the hall. “You have done enough today sorella. It’s time you get some rest. Papa’s orders.” he hummed, pressing his lips against your weary head. You didn’t bother to open your eyes, instead focusing on the feel of warmth radiating from his chest, comforting as he held you. 
“Thank you.” you sighed. Held by your Papa, who knew you better than yourself. Slowly giving yourself over to the dreaming as you listened to the sounds of his footfalls, and the jingle of Jezebel’s collar, on your way to the Papal suites. 
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