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bathomet-writes · 1 year

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Could- 👉👈 could I perhaps ask for a rise Mikey x reader short, where like: it starts with a flashback of the boys as kids, going outside for the first time and while exploring, Mikey spots this little girl on the playground and just thinks she's the prettiest creature he's ever seen, so he goes to give her a flower, completely forgetting he's a mutant and like, readers scared at first but then sees the flower and is suddenly flattered

And then flashback ends: Mikey is now left hopelessly in love with reader, who the boys have now been friends with for a long time and reader is like well dam aware of mikeys crush, but decides to act like she doesn't know to see how long it'll take Mikey, but after a failed attempt of impressing reader by almost getting hurt, reader is just like 'fuck it' and makes the first move

If u don't wanna do it then just pretend u don't see this, and if ur interested, feel free to make any changes you'd like. Also pls do not feel rushed and have a good day.

candy hearts and paper flowers

relationship: Mikey x F!reader

warnings: romantic, fluff, humor, minor hurt/comfort, kissing, sfw

word count: 5,289

author's note: omg..my first request!! this was so fun, i've never written for mikey before. i hope you like it!!

Mikey peeks his head out, lifting the manhole cover up a couple of inches to get a look around. The sliver of light that flooded out from the outside was mesmerizing. He blinks, adjusting to the brightness.

“Woah…!” He lifts the lid even higher.

“What do you see?” Donnie whispers. “Is it a horse? I read that there are horses out there sometimes.”

“You read that there are horses in New York? Please,” Leo sighs.

Raph climbed up the ladder behind the other three, urging them to keep moving. “Quit holdin’ up the line!”

Leo and Donnie crash into one another, knocking their noggins awkwardly. “OW!”

Heaving the manhole cover to the side, Mikey jumps through the air. He tucks his body in to do a quick backflip, crying out a high-pitched “Hoo-wah!”

Mikey stood in hushed amazement, taking in the view of the street they popped out of. He’d only seen places like this on T.V. or in comic books, or while sneaking secret looks through sewer drains. But to stand on the pavement, feeling the dirt and grit beneath his toes, it was something else. He simply couldn’t contain his excitement any longer.

“This is amazing! Hello dumpster! Hello alley cat! Hello mysterious rainbow-colored puddle!” He hopped and skipped with glee, greeting every object his eyes fell on.

Eventually, Donnie, Leo, and Raph made their way out of the sewer to join him. They too were taken with the mundane sights around them, amazed at the fact that they were finally above ground. Donnie had already pulled out a crumpled up notepad to scratch down notes. Little observations of the people and buildings he saw. Leo was equally enraptured, following Donnie around as he pointed out various things on the ground.

“Woah, a used cigarette. Cool!”

“Don’t eat it,” Raph warns.

The red-clad turtle was trying his best to stay vigilant of his brothers, making sure none of them wandered too far off or ingested something they shouldn’t. He couldn't help but be star-struck as well, however. The ambient sounds of cars passing by and humans talking amongst themselves filled his ears. Raph claps his hands together, getting the others’ attention.

“Okay, boys. Splinter said we could come up and explore for exactly thirty minutes. Not thirty-one minutes, thirty minutes.” Raph gathered up everyone in a tight huddle, laying down the ground rules. “If any of you mess this up for us–”

“All we have to do is keep a low profile and not die, right?” Leo scoffs.

Mikey nods enthusiastically, siding with Leo. “Easy as pie!”

“I concur. Let us all go our separate ways and reconvene here in a half-hour. Commence the synchronizing of watches.” Donnie readjusts his glasses on the ridge of his nose before hitting a button on his wrist.

That was all Mikey needed to hear before bounding away, giggling to himself. “Cowabunga!”

Raph was soon left standing by himself as the others followed suit, going off in separate directions. Sputtering, he calls out to them. “W-Wait up! Don’t leave me alone!”

Quickly, he chooses to run after Leo across the street.

Mikey made a beeline through a nearby alleyway to explore its contents. The smell was strangely worse up here than it was down in the sewers. The pungent scent of garbage made his nose scrunch up in disgust.

“Nasty. Humans just leave their trash lying out like this?”

Once he gets one last look at the graffiti markings on the brick wall, he flattens himself to the corner of the building to check out the perimeter. There were a couple people walking around, talking on phones and looking somewhat distracted. Taking a chance, Mikey steps out onto the sidewalk, suddenly very nervous.

The locals didn’t seem too interested in a pre-teenage mutant ninja turtle, not so much as sparing him a passing glance. Mikey twiddles his fingers together, almost waiting for someone to scream out in horror.

“Huh…” he blinks. “I guess New Yorkers really have seen everything.”

He scans around for a moment, casually people-watching. There were so many humans, and they all looked so different!

Suddenly, his eyes catch a glimpse of a playground just a couple of yards away. His eyes go wide, sparkling.

“Omigosh!” Without thinking, he sprints over.

The playground was sizable, seemingly a part of a larger park in the neighborhood. Mikey marveled at the monkey bars, jungle gym, and various slides. He does one more double-take, making sure there was no one else around, before launching himself into the air.

“Aw, yeah! All mine, baby.”

For the next fifteen minutes or so, Mikey sampled all the playground had to offer. This kind of place was the perfect outlet for all his manic energy. He swung off of every monkey bar, climbed through all the plastic tunnels, and dug through the sandbox for any potential treasures that were hidden away.

As he buried himself within a sand castle he constructed, Mikey patted himself into a cocoon. “There, perfect.”

“What are you doing?” A tiny voice calls out.

“Hm?”

Mikey turned his head toward the swingset to his left. Somehow, he failed to notice a human girl sitting right beside him. She sat clutching the chains of the swing, letting her foot move herself slightly back and forth.

“I said, what are you doing? You’re gonna get sand everywhere.”

Mikey laid there, looking up to the sky in deep thought. Only his head was visible, while the rest of his body was buried in the sand. That must be the reason why she wasn’t terrified by the sight of his unusual green skin.

“I like being buried.” He chirps.

The girl continued to stare, pushing herself lazily on the swing. “Whatever.”

Mikey turns back and gives her a pleasant smile. He was thankful for the company, even if it was a slightly annoyed human. As he opened his eyes to fully look at her, he felt a sudden tightness in his chest. And it wasn’t just from being trapped in a sand prison.

Mikey didn’t know how to describe it. He could look at a painting and call it beautiful, or look at the moon up above and say it was enchanting. But the person sitting next to him, looking at him with slight indignation, left him gobsmacked.

She tried to look away and continue to enjoy her swing in peace, but she felt Mikey’s eyes bore into her.

“Do you want me to leave or something?” She sighs.

“What’s your name?”

She turns back to him, a small frown gracing her charming features. The way her scowl curled to the side was adorable. Every minute detail of her face was drawing Mikey in.

“What’s your name?”

Suddenly, Mikey sits up and lets the sand fall from his person. “Michael. Angelo. Michaelangelo!”

Her annoyed expression falls away as she takes notice of his shell. The green skin, the bald head, suddenly it clicked.

“You’re a…?”

Mikey scrambles up, putting his hands out in a placating gesture. “I-I know, it’s weird! Is it the mask? It’s the mask, isn’t it?”

He reaches up to untie it and pull it off of his head. Holding it out before him, Mikey waves it around in her face. “See!”

Scoffing, she bats his hand away. “I mean you’re a turtle!”

Mikey secures his mask back on before giving her another winning smile. He shoots his hand out for a shake.

“Yup! And you are…?”

“I’m leaving.” She slaps his hand away again, rejecting his friendly gesture.

Mikey watches as she moves to sit up, heart-broken. His lips tremble slightly as he rubs at his hand. Maybe he was being too presumptuous, but he didn’t really expect to get such a cold welcome his first day up on the surface.

His eyes search around, desperate to find a reason to make her stay. “Wait! I can push you on the swing? If you want…?”

She stops, looking back at Mikey. After a couple seconds of contemplation, she sits back down.

“I guess that’s fine.”

Instantly, Mikey’s mood does a 180. “Yes!”

Stepping behind her, Mikey places his hands on the chains. He begins to step backward and lift the girl into the air. She gulps, her hands gripping tighter.

“This is kinda high.”

“That’s the best part! Here. We. Go!”

Then, Mikey reels back and lets the swing go. He doesn’t take into account the fact his strength was a little more intense than most, accidentally sending the girl flying.

Screaming, she does a full rotation. Mikey stares on in horror as she does another spin. And another. Eventually, she becomes tied to the top rung of the swing set, bound tightly by the chains.

“That, uh…might be a little too high?” He chuckles.

“GET ME DOWN FROM HERE!” She wails, wiggling against her restraints. “How did you even do that?!”

Mikey quickly jumps up into the air and lands on the bar. He gives her an apologetic look, feeling like he was in real trouble.

“Sorry! I’m so, so sorry! Let me just—“

She blinks at him, watching as he untangles her from the swing. “You’re…really strong!”

She grins in spite of herself. Her limbs finally go slack and she’s pulled up into Mikey’s grasp. He holds her for a second before gently setting her back on the ground.

“I’m really sorry again. I kinda can’t control my own strength yet.”

Mikey hangs his head as he lands on the wood chip surface of the playground.

She kicks her feet, feeling a little awkward for making such a fuss about it. He looked so genuine, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

“It’s fine…That was actually kind of fun.”

Mikey looks up, hopeful. “It was?”

She nods, holding out her hand. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Mikey beams, his eyes shining like stars. He wasn’t sure what it was about this girl that was making him so upbeat. Well, more upbeat than he usually was. He launches forward and brings her into a tight hug, shaking her back and forth.

“Y/N! You’re my first new human friend! The first of many!”

She groans, trying to escape his enthusiastic hold. “Okay, that’s enough!”

Chucking, he releases her. “Right. Sorry, too much.”

Mikey rubs the back of his head, smiling goofily at her. She flits her eyes down to his mouth, noticing his missing tooth. Without thinking, she covers her mouth.

“Your teeth.”

Mikey, feeling suddenly very bashful, closes his mouth. “Yeah, I know. My dad says the tooth gap will go away eventually, but…”

The girl blinks, moving her hand away. She didn’t mean to make him embarrassed at all. To Mikey’s shock, she breaks out in quiet laughter.

“H-Hey!” He shouts, waving his hands around. “That’s not very nice!”

She laughs even harder, moving her hands away from her mouth. Then, Mikey sees it. She was missing her top right canine.

Blushing, she points up to her teeth. “You’re just like me! I lost this tooth last week. That’s so funny!”

Mikey’s eyes go wide, watching her continue to heartily laugh. Slowly, his lips curl into a smile. He chuckles along with her, his voice steadily growing in volume.

As the two of them wind down, Mikey’s smile falls away. He never really interacted with a real human before, was this how he was supposed to feel? His stomach was full of butterflies, hands opening and closing out of sheer restlessness.

“Can I give you something?”

Walking back to lean against the swing, she nods. “Depends.”

Mikey sweats, realizing he didn’t really have anything to give her. He pats his chest, searching for a gift. “I— I’m gonna give you…”

Looking down, a couple of dandelions sprouting out of the corner of the sandbox catches his eye. Mikey quickly picks them from the ground and presents them to her. He accidentally tore them out by the roots, stringy grass and dirt dangling from the flowers.

“Flowers! You’re supposed to give cute girls flowers!”

“You…think I’m cute?”

Before he can respond, Mikey notices a large clock face against the side of a neighboring building. It had already been a half-hour! Panicking, he shoves them into her hands before running away.

“GOODBYE!” He screeches.

Mikey peels out, sprinting back toward the direction of the manhole cover he emerged from. He stumbles and trips on the wood chips, accidentally getting some in his mouth.

“Blecch—!”

He scrambles up to continue his ungrateful exit, leaving the girl behind. She sits dumbfounded, staring at the bouquet of dandelions. A small blush colors her cheeks.

—

You smile to yourself, remembering the day you and Mikey first met.

You look over to him as the two of you stroll through the same park. A good number of years later, things were relatively unchanged. The playground had a couple of updates, some new equipment. Tonight’s destination, however, was the botanical gardens. Mikey insisted that you accompany him tonight, eager to show you the exhibits.

“And, why couldn’t this have waited until tomorrow again?” You ask.

“Because,” he skips ahead, giving you his signature gap-toothed smile. “There’s no one around at night!”

You fold your hands behind your back, winking at him. “So we’re breaking in.”

“No. We’re sneaking in.” He corrects.

Chuckling, you playfully shove him aside. “You just want an excuse to hang out with me alone, don’t you?”

You close your eyes, confidently walking forward. You hear Mikey sputter and cough, having seemingly been found out. He tries his best to cover up his bashfulness with a cool facade.

“W-What’s so wrong with some good-natured plant watching between friends? You need a little more culture in your life, and who better to provide it than me.”

Mikey places his thumb and forefinger on his chin, his eyes glinting under the dull moonlight.

“Uh-huh. Sure,” you scoff.

You didn’t consider yourself a particularly perceptive person. Especially when it came to matters of deciphering people’s intentions. But, Michael was unfortunately kind of an open book. He wore his heart on his sleeve, the poor guy.

Even a fool could see that he was head over heels for you. You’re not too sure if Mikey had always had a crush on you, but lately he had made quite an effort to shower you with attention. His texts were more frequent, sending you random online quizzes and songs that you just had to see. Mikey was always pretty touchy-feely with his family and friends, giving out plenty of hugs. He was a very physically intimate turtle, sometimes to your detriment.

“We’re here!”

His voice rips you from your thoughts and you glance up.

Before you stood a grand building, composed almost entirely of glass windows. The yard surrounding the gardens were almost a little more impressive, countless hedges and water features decorating the area.

Mikey slides up next to you, waggling his eyebrows. “Right?”

“Okay, this is pretty cool.” You smirk.

“I know. Allow me to razz my tazz…”

You watch as he backflips into the air and sticks to the exterior of the glass building. How did he do that, you wonder? Mikey feels around the glass panel, looking for the loose edge to wiggle himself into. He finally finds it, knocking his elbow against the window.

Suddenly, he slides in, letting out a surprised squawk. “WOAH—!”

You cringe hearing him fall through a number of limbs, leaves shaking and vines ripping from the impact. The jungle of foliage inside was dense, so you can’t really see where Mikey lands. You run up to the service door, waiting for him to give you some sort of signal.

“Oh, Michael? Are you dead?” You cup your hands together, calling out to him in a sing-song voice.

Pressing your face against the door, you strain your ears to listen closely. Silence. You click your tongue in annoyance.

“I’m gonna call Raph.” You slowly reach for your pocket.

Mikey slams his head against the other side of the door, his pleading face squished against the glass. “NO, DON’T!”

“AAAH—! Don’t jumpscare me like that!” You shriek.

Mikey quickly throws open the door before pulling you in by your shirt collar. Stumbling in, you nearly fall over. You huff indignantly while he lifts you back up on your feet. For such a little guy, he sure was strong.

“Falling for me already, eh?” He jokes.

You flick his nose. “In your dreams.”

He awkwardly snickers at you, feeling a little shy about his casual flirtation. Mikey didn’t know if he was coming off as cute or just creepy, unable to gauge your reaction. You were always a little more cool and collected than him, your quick wit and charm rivaling even Leo’s. It was humbling, even a little attractive. He follows you from behind like a love-sick puppy, desperate to impress you.

The two of you eventually walk into the center of the botanical garden and stand in awe of the plant life. Part of you wishes that Donnie was here to inform you both on each and every plant name, he was full of fun facts like that. But, you were happy just to have Mikey here to yourself. It was a good opportunity to test out a theory you had brewing in the back of your brain.

“So, what first?” You smile, turning to Mikey. “Lead the way.”

He gives you an even bigger smile, eager to have you on the hook. “Oh! There’s that one stink plant!”

He directs you to the right, walking ahead of you before stopping dead in his tracks. You peek your head over his shoulder, looking around curiously.

“What?”

“I, uh— I forgot we kinda made it into a mutant with a security guard.” He chuckles.

You stare at his face, looking all at once bashful and spacey. Smirking, you edge your head closer to his. You were usually pretty touch-averse, but maybe you could try being more physically intimate with him. Just to see what would happen.

“Maybe that’s for the best. I know you have a very sensitive nose,” you whisper.

Mikey covertly gulps, caught off guard by your sudden closeness and your low voice in his ear. “Let’s go look at the babbling brook! I think I can hear it…babbling!”

Spinning around, he grabs your hand and drags you along behind him.

You bite at your lower lip, entertained by his flustered behavior. You hated to admit it, but teasing Mikey was just too much fun. You hold his hand tighter.

“Aww, it’s like a tiny waterfall!” You gush, walking up to stand beside Mikey. “I wonder if there are any fish in here?”

Mikey shakily lets go of you, placing his hands on his hips. “There actually are. Lemme show you!”

You furrow your brows, watching Mikey step into the tiny river. The water led to a larger pond, lilly pads and other aquatic plants scattered about the surface.

“That’s probably a bad idea,” you warn. You follow him along the bank, careful not to step on any of the flowers.

“Relax. I’m a turtle, water is my natural habitat.”

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t Ornate box turtles drown really easily?”

He tosses his head at you, continuing to march forward. “That’s a myth.”

You fold your arms over your chest, meeting his cocky gaze with your unimpressed scowl.

“Let’s see…I think I saw a fish somewhere around here.” Mikey leans down, moving aside a lily pad to investigate. “Ah-hah! Told ya.”

He shoots back up, holding out an orange-spotted koi fish. It thrashed wildly in his grasp, flapping its tail against his hand.

Sighing, you walk closer to the edge of the pond. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“I’m putting it right back, okay? Chill—“

Suddenly, a whole army of koi fish swarm around Mikey’s feet in the water. They apparently did not take too kindly to his rude intrusion. You wordlessly watch on as Mikey got practically attacked by a dozen or so fish, their tails repeatedly slapping against his body.

“Woah, hey! Stop that! I’m not your enemy! AAA—!” Mikey tries to run out, lifting his legs high and shaking off a fish that had clamped its jaw onto his foot.

Your hands grip onto your arms in an attempt to stop yourself from laughing. But, as soon as you see Mikey fall into the water, you break. Cackling, you grab at your sides as Mikey pitifully splashed around in the pond.

“This is amazing!” You tease. “I’m sending this in the group chat.”

“Help me! I lied, I’m drowning!” Mikey screams, waving his limbs about.

You hold your phone out and start recording a video, chuckling. “The water’s barely a foot deep.”

The last koi fish gives Mikey a harsh slap across the face, leaving him behind to lie in the water. He looked utterly shocked and defeated.

Once you’ve gotten all the evidence you need, you stow your phone away and kick off your shoes and socks. You were cruel, but you weren’t that cruel.

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough.” You roll up the cuffs of your pants and gingerly step into the pond, holding out your hand to Mikey.

Blinking up at you, he scowls. “I could have died back there.”

You purse your lips, resolving to just reach down and pull Mikey up by the edge of his plastron. “Serves you right for disrespecting the pond.”

As you lifted him out of the water, his body was stiff as a board. His face was still screwed into an exaggerated frown. You can’t help but chuckle again at him, wiping off some pond scum that had gotten stuck to his shell.

“What?” He pouts.

“You’re so cute when you look like that.” You pull Mikey out of the pond, peeking back at his offended expression.

“That’s totally not demeaning.”

Once you both get back onto the path, you give him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, okay? You just have a naturally cute face.”

Your hands drift up to land on Mikey’s face, gently squishing his cheeks. His eyes were still angry, but you could tell from his blush and his wavering frown that you were really testing his resolve. You knew he wasn’t really mad, just embarrassed. It only made him even more cute.

Mikey stared at you, using almost all of his willpower not to melt into your touch. You had never been so brazen, so comfortable with casually touching him like this. The cheeky way you were looking at him only made him more flustered. Clearing his throat, he dips out of your hold.

“The succulents are over here.”

Huffing, he marches away. You can only smirk to yourself as you follow behind. Maybe you were teasing him a little too much. You didn’t really care, though. With a pep in your step, you catch up to meet him at the desert flora section.

You saw a collection of cacti, some towering over your heads, others small and rotund. Mikey shakes off his growing nerves to present them to you.

“Behold, the pokey plants. As you can see, they are covered in pokey bits.”

Nodding, you sit your chin upon your fist. “Ah, yes. Very pokey indeed.”

The two of you nod to one another in mock-seriousness. You watch as Mikey begins to smile again, and you feel a little relieved. While you quite enjoyed seeing him playfully mad, you can’t deny that you miss seeing him happy.

Mikey quirks his head to the side, an idea knocking around in his head. “I wonder…”

You cock your head as well. “Wonder what?”

“Dare me to touch it?” He lifts a hand up toward a particularly sharp-looking cactus.

You shift your eyes from the plant and back to him, cautiously interested. “I won’t stop you.”

“I’m gonna do it,” he warns.

“Fine. See what happens.” You toss your hand over your shoulder, walking away. This was bound to end well.

Before you know it, you hear a loud crunching sound behind you. You twist around to find Mikey crumpled over the cactus’s broken trunk, absolutely covered in thorns. His eyes were as wide as saucers, almost in disbelief of his own actions.

“Michael!” You gasp. “I swear to god.”

Shuddering, he crawls out of the exhibit, moving through the pebbles that laid about. “Pain…I’m in pain.”

You turn your back to him, exasperated with his antics. “I’m not helping you.”

“Don’t need it. I’m perfectly capable of helping myself.” He stands, legs wobbling. He tries to grab at a large spine poking out of his forearm.

“Ow.” One thorn.

“Ow.” Another.

You grumble, listening to Mikey remove the spines one by one. This was just sad. You slowly turn around, watching as he stands there plucking at his arm. Sighing, you decide to be a little more merciful.

“You’re lucky you have that shell.”

You find a nearby bench and plant yourself on it. You pat your hand to the seat next to you, beckoning him to sit down. “Come here.”

Mikey quickly pads over to sit in front of you, swinging his legs around the bench. You follow suit and do a once-over. Thankfully, his legs were mostly unharmed, but his upper body and face were covered in barbs.

“What did we learn?” You sigh, carefully removing all of the larger spines.

Mikey tries holding back each cry of pain as you pluck them out, his eyes squeezing shut. “I wasn’t trying to throw myself into a cactus, you know. I just tripped.”

“That’s why are you covered in pokey bits?”

“I– Ouch!” He seethes, recoiling away from you. “I was trying to be cool, okay. Aren’t you impressed?”

Chuckling dryly, you move on to the smaller, more difficult barbs. You knew he was just trying to show off, even if it was kind of pathetic. Internally, you frown. No, he wasn’t pathetic. You somehow felt bad for even thinking that. It wasn’t like he was putting on airs, or being fake. He was actually pretty genuine.

“Not impressed. Just slightly concerned.”

Mikey sniffs, feeling a little disheartened with your reply. “Sorry.”

You flit your eyes up for a moment. “Why do you think you have to impress me? I already think you’re cool.”

He turns his head away slightly. “I don’t know? I just want to.”

Mikey was usually pretty good about verbalizing his emotional desires. But for some reason, he felt so confused.

After you pick out the last barb from his cheek, you toss them all away into the bushes. “There, all done.”

You were about to stand back up before you felt Mikey grab at your upper arm. You freeze, looking down at him.

“I just– Sometimes I feel like I need to show off. Show you that I’m cool and strong, I guess? I’m not super buff like Raph, or smooth like Leo. And I’m definitely not smart like Donnie.”

You move to sit back down, staring at him. You don’t know how to react to his sudden confession, simply opting to remain silent.

Mikey lifts his head to look you in the eye, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “I just want to make you feel safe.”

You frown. “You think I don’t feel safe?”

Shaking his head, Mikey bails on his own admission. “No, I don’t know. Nevermind.”

In an instant, you get an idea. You rummage around in your bag to pull out your old, worn sketchbook that you carried around everywhere. You leaf through the pages to land in the middle. “You recognize this?”

Mikey blinks away a tear that threatened to accumulate in his eye before looking over. “Your sketchbook?”

“No, this.” You reach in and pull out a couple of pressed flowers. They were shriveled and brown with age, but they were very clearly dandelions.

Mikey’s sad frown melts away as he leans forward. “Those are…”

“The flowers you gave me. When I first met you, I was actually kind of freaked out. I just remember thinking, ‘Why was this weird turtle harassing me?’” You allow yourself to smile, recalling the memory.

You hear Mikey chuckle quietly, his eyes softening.

“But, you were obviously just a huge dork. Sweet, but still a dork. I took those weeds you gave me and put them in here.”

You carefully place them back into your sketchbook, closing it. “I carried them with me all the time, so I wouldn’t feel so alone, y’know? If I ever felt scared, I would just clutch onto this and pretend you were there.”

Mikey sat up straighter, letting your soft words wrap him up into a warm blanket. He felt so safe, so secure in your presence.

“Thankfully, I didn’t have to do it too often. Because you were always there, somehow.”

Finally, you put your sketchbook back into your bag and look up. You give Mikey a lopsided smile, watching him look at you with quiet amazement. Reaching up, you place your hand upon his flushed cheek, bathing in his warmth.

Mikey was speechless. Words couldn’t begin to describe what he was feeling right now. He unintentionally allows his head to nuzzle up against your hand, practically sighing.

“You okay?”

“My skin kind of hurts.” His voice was oddly low, laced with a shy sweetness.

Leaning forward, you debate with yourself whether or not you want to tease him even more. He looked so vulnerable right now, you wouldn’t dare ruin a rare moment like this. Humming, you indulge yourself and decide to place a soft kiss upon his cheek. You didn’t want to scare him off.

Mikey’s skin tingles with excitement, electric sparks surging through his body. “Hahh…”

“Am I hurting you,” you whisper. You weren’t sure if he was hissing out in pleasure or in pain.

He immediately responds. “No, you feel really nice.”

Angling your head lower, you slot your lips gently against his. The kiss is chaste and short, but you feel your heartbeat thrum in your ears. The low light of the night sky illuminated the two of you, making Mikey’s skin practically glow. Moving an inch or two away, you admire his features.

Mikey sighs, his eyes fluttering open. You meet his soft gaze with your own. After a charged couple of seconds, the two of you break out into laughter. His head falls onto the bend of your shoulder, his breath heavy.

“I can’t believe you did that.” He exhales shakily.

“Pull out nearly a hundred cactus spines from your body? Yeah, I can’t believe it either.” You chuckle.

In a bold move, Mikey smiles against your neck before placing a kiss on your hot skin. You shudder, feeling his teeth brush up against your pulse.

“Woah-hoh-hoh! Ouch!” You tear yourself away, flapping your hands at his face. “Your teeth are sharper than I thought.”

Mikey gives you a cheeky smile, his tooth-gap on full display. “Sorry, I’m kinda pokey.”

He feels his heart swell in his chest, his limbs going limp and gooey. He wondered if he could even stand up. Seemingly reading his mind, you reach over and hook your arms underneath him. In an impressive move, you heave Mikey up and carry him bridal-style.

“H-Hey! What are you doing?” He cries out, blushing furiously.

“Carrying you back. Because I can,” you smirk.

Out of sheer embarrassment, Mikey covers his face. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Neither did I!”

And with that, you make your way back to the exit, giggling with Mikey as you bask in your newfound closeness. You hope that he felt safe with you, safe enough to let you into his heart just a little bit more.

#rottmnt x reader #mikey x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #michelangelo x reader #tmnt x reader #sfw #requests #this became a lot longer than i originally intended lol

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quindolyn · 3 years

Note

Could you do a marauders x reader fluff?? Like a poly relationship and it’s like Valentine’s Day or sumthing love ur writing <3

Armfuls of Sunshine || Poly!Marauders

Word Count: 2365

A/N: It’s not really valentines day in the fic or any holiday like that, it’s just that swim weather is setting in for me and I want a lazy day at the lake with the boys so this is completely self indulgent. I know I haven’t been writing a lot I’ve just been a bit overwhelmed and I wish I could say that this is a sign that my life is mellowing out but I’m afraid that it is actually to the contrary. In summary, don’t get your hopes up

Warnings: hastily written, tired while written, fem reader, kisses, lake day so reader is wearing a swimsuit, mentions of Remus’ body image issues and allusions to Sirius’ past abuse from his parents

Masterlist

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back to rest against Sirius’ shoulder who sat behind you with you between his legs. Sitting by the Black Lake he was shirtless, you adorned only in a modest two piece swimsuit leaving the skin of your belly exposed so that Sirius could trace shapes along the soft skin. With your back pressed to his chest and the sun’s rays hitting your front you were surrounded by warmth, like a nice little cocoon you were tucked into.

With your head against his shoulder you left the side of your neck open, vulnerable, allowing him to drip down wordlessly and brush his lips over the delicate skin before finding your sweet spot on the back of your neck and nipping lightly, his hands moving to grip your hips so you couldn’t squirm out of the hold he had on you.

“Siri!” You giggled, feeling Sirius grin into the side of your neck, getting just the reaction out of you that he had wanted.

“Shhh Puppy,” He whispered condescendingly in your ear, “Gotta be quiet, can’t wake up Jamie,” He nodded his head over to your right where just mere inches from you laid the slumbering boy, all messy black curls, hazel eyes, and with a physique that had you weak in the knees every time you saw him.

Currently his back was on display for you as he laid on his stomach, his hands resting beneath his forehead acting as a pillow, you admired the way the sunlight illuminated his skin and you could see the muscles subtly shift under that skin as he breathed deeply in his sleep.

Watching him, you became aware of just how hot the sun had gotten in the hour or so the three of you had been lounging out there, waiting for Remus to finish up his prefect duties so that the four of you could go cool off in the water together.

“We should wake him up, Siri,” You voiced, lifting yourself slightly from his lap in attempts to wake up James but quickly strong hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you back down to the spot between his muscled thighs.

“Oh come on baby, you don’t wanna do that, you know how grumpy the baby gets when you wake him up from a nap,” He murmured this mockingly into your neck, hoping that the boy he spoke of wouldn’t be able to hear him but as James let out a disgruntled groan and began to fidget you knew he was waking up.

Ignoring Sirius’ snarky remark, you leaned forward once more, this time Sirius’ hands just keeping a steady hold on your hips while making no effort to pull you back.

“Hey baby,” You crooned, supporting your weight on one hand pressed firmly to the ground while the other moved to bury itself deep in James’ locks, scratching with your nails the way you know he liked on his scalp, smiling at the content grunt the boy let out at your ministrations.

Gazing down at him you let your eyes scan his back once more, frowning as you noticed the slight pink tinge beginning to taint his skin, a precursor to what could be a wicked sunburn if not properly prevented. Letting your hand slip from his scalp you ran it down his neck and down his back, he was warmer than he should’ve been, it wasn’t just ‘laying in the sun’ kinda warm it was ‘beginning to fry’ kinda hot.

“Jamie,” You muttered again, louder this time so that you might be able to get more of his attention, “Jamie, wake up.”

“Hmmm?” He hummed, turning onto his side so that he was facing you, eyes slowly blinking open, squinting as they were flooded with the harsh light of the warm sun. He scooched himself so that he was still lying on his side but so that his head was resting against the hard planes of Sirius’ thigh, nuzzling into the soft skin half covered by his swim shorts which stopped at his mid thigh.

“You’re starting to get sunburned Jamie, can’t have our pretty boy getting hurt,” You explained to him the reason for your disturbance, returning your hand to his hair as he inched up the material of Sirius’ shorts to press kisses to his leg.

You felt Sirius shiver from behind you at the contact of James’ pretty lips on some of his most sensitive skin and you found his hand, interlacing your fingers to give him a squeeze.

“But the sun feels good,” James countered between kisses pressed to Sirius’ leg, not going higher or lower, just dancing around the circumference, tracing where the bottom of the shorts would usually sit.

“I know it does,” You agreed, gazing down at one of your three beautiful boys, “But how about you lay on your back for a little bit, let your tummy get some sun and then we’ll put on more sunscreen and hopefully by that time we’re done Rem will be done and we can go in the water.”

“Hmph,” James looked up at you, he was positioned in such a way that sunlight danced through his hazel irises, making him appear even more ethereal than usual, his tan skin glowing in the mid afternoon sun. He was the picture of effortless beauty.

It was unfair how easily the boy tanned, it was something Sirius in particular was envious of but as he positioned himself so that his lips were pressed to the shell of your ear, “He’s gorgeous isn’t he?”

“Breathtaking,” You nodded, only breaking your eyes away from James’ face when his eyes flitted back down to the thigh he used as a pillow, resuming his dusting of feather light kisses. “Just as breathtaking as you are,” Twisting your neck you were nose to nose with Sirius, pale skin stretched across his angular features shimmered beautifully in the sun, like someone had dusted glitter along his skin in his sleep making him look almost god like.

Your eyes flickered from his unnaturally ruby red lips to his grey eyes where you noticed a smear of black makeup beginning at the corner of his eye. You lifted your hand to your mouth, licking the pad of your thumb, before extending out from the corner of the boy’s eye where his eyeliner from earlier was smudged against his porcelain skin.

Allowing his eyes to flutter closed Sirius leaned into your touch and you felt your heart swell, there had been a point during your relationship with the three men where you reaching for his face would’ve caused him to flinch and back away, and even if your hand had somehow managed to make it to his face he would’ve sat there awkwardly and rigid until you pulled away.

But this comfort was a demonstration of the trust that had formed, not just between the two of you but all four of you, even if one member was absent at the moment.

“There we go,” You murmured, pulling your hand back to your lap, though Sirius followed it, not wanting to break contact with you until the las possible second.

“Better now?”

“Much.”

Casting your gaze back down at the near comatose form of one of your other boyfriends you frowned as James had still yet to shift so that his back wasn’t exposed to the sun.

Though Sirius pretended not to care as much as you he too noticed the pinkish tint James’ skin was starting to take on. Resting one of his hands, stronger than yours, on James' face he began rubbing small circles on his cheek, occasionally running his fingers through the other boy’s hair to keep it out of his way.

“She’s right Jamesie,” His low baritone sounded, “Don’t need you with a sunburn so roll over for us, can put your head right back in my lap, just want you to be okay.”

“But m’comfy,” The other boy protested into Sirius’ thigh, saliva spilling out onto the hard canvas of muscle.

Knowing that if James wasn’t going to listen to you or Sirius there was one person whose opinion would matter you spoke, “Can’t have Remmy worrying about you Jamie,” You implored gently, “We’re out here to help him relax,”

You were right, with the full moon in a matter of days Remus had been high strung, constantly fidgeting, lost in his head, spacing out during class while also hyper fixating on the most minute of details. The boy was a tightly wound mess and desperately just needed a relaxing afternoon with his three favorite people.

If he even had an inkling that one of you was anything other than completely fine he would focus all of his energy in on that, forgetting the real reason you were supposed to be out there together.

It was those words that seemed to reach James and had him turning over onto his back so that the back of his head was now cradled in his hands which were interlocked and resting upon Sirius’ thigh, his strong, muscled legs kicked out underneath him, his ankles crossed.

You allowed your eyes to run up and down James’ impressive form, thighs just as beautiful, but more defined that Sirius’ but hidden behind a pair of coral swim trunks. His abs were without a doubt the most defined out of all four of you, like his thighs this part of his physique could be attributed to countless hours on the Quidditch pitch, training him and his team ruthlessly, pushing every physical boundary. It had obviously paid off as the strong muscles of his biceps and triceps flexed as he had his arms positioned to prop his head up.

Flicking your glance behind you you noticed that Sirius was appreciating the view just as much as you were, and who could really blame you? James was gorgeous, and he was all yours just as the stunnig boy behind you was.

Once again pushing yourself out of Sirius’ lap you used your hands to stabilize your body on the ground, your palms pressed flat against the soft material of the towel that was laid out underneath you so that your face was mere inches above James. You didn’t even bother waiting for him to close his eyes before you were melding your lips with his, closing your eyes in contentment as you felt his lips fall open for yours, his tongue peeking out to trace your soft cushions.

Reaching a hand up to cup your jaw James used it to pull your face down closer towards his. You released a muffled “umph” as you were forced to drop from your hands to your forearms to support yourself comfortably and James gently took your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping gently as he deepened the kiss.

Before you could reciprocate, matching his passion, there were another pair of strong hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you away from James’ lips and out of Sirius’ lap.

You let out a high pitched shriek at the sudden, unexpected motion and with what appeared to be minimal effort the hold on you shifted from your waist to supporting you under the bend of your knees and the small of your back.

Not being alarmed as the deep laughter that erupted from the figure was not only familiar but reassuring, you rested your head against Remus’ chest, having recognized him instantly. Inhaling deeply the scent of the thin t-shirt he’d thrown on before making his way down to the lake after finishing his prefect duties you knew that it was no doubt either Sirius’ or James’ as the three boys rarely ever wore their own shirts, always preferring each other’s.

“Hi Rem,” You smiled, gazing up at his visage from your place in his arms, you squinted because his head was positioned directly in front of the sun, making it look like there was a brilliant halo glowing around him.

“Hi baby, I missed you,” He cooed down at you, pressing a sweet and simple peck to your puckered lips before rising back up to his full height, still cradling you in his arms.

“You can put me down now Remmy,” You giggled, not satisfied with the brief kiss he’d given you, you clasped his jaw similarly to the way James had yours to bring his lips back down to yours.

But once again, much to your chagrin, he kept the kiss short, no matter the firm hand you kept on his jaw, perhaps even shorter than the last once before pulling away and setting you down softly on the ground, taking great care to ensure you were balanced before letting go of his hold on you.

“Neither of those were real kisses,” You complained, resting your hand against his chest, your head at a near ninety degree angle to look up at the male who towered over you.

“No?” He asked teasingly.

Rising to the bait you answered, “No.”

“Don’t whine baby,” Sirius chimed in from where he laid, still lounging upon the ground, “Remmy’s had a very exhausting day (Y/N), can’t blame him if his kissing isn’t what it usually is.”

Pushing himself up off the ground Sirius sauntered over to where you and Rem stood, making a show as he carelessly flinging his arms around Remus’ neck.

“Now come on Remus,” He ordered with a false arrogance, “Carry me to the water!” Letting his head fall back dramatically he stood there expectantly but was met only with Remus’ light laughter as he ducked out from under the smaller boy’s arms.

“I don’t think so Pads,” Remus said as pulled off his shirt, you grinned at the seemingly unimportant action but just as Sirius trusting you to touch him made your heart soar so did this. Remus proudly and carelessly displaying all of the beautiful scars that decorated his chest made you so proud of the progress the four of you had all made together.

“Get Jamie to carry you,” Once again lifting you into his arms Remus pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “Already got my arms full.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @gxtitobxby @pinkandblueblurbs @st0nesnglitter @miraclesoflove @priii @wholebigboxofyikes @advictedtohim @gubleryum @temporaryissue @emmaev @zzzfour @itsmentalillness

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baroquebucky · 3 years

Note

hello!! how are you? i was wondering if i could request a little something with Bucky where the reader convinced him to go to the beach with them, and by the end of the day they confess to each other? i know it’s oddly specific, but i hope you can do it! thank you so so so much!🥺💓

a/n: i hope ur doing well !! sorry if this took a while ,, i hope you enjoy pls ignore any typos <3 also let’s just pretend like there’s a beach near the compound okay cool thank u (requests open !)

bucky finds out he only loves the beach because of you

masterlist

You narrowed your eyes, hoping to make Bucky crack under pressure.

“It’s just one day! Cmon it’ll be fun!” You protested, groaning as Bucky smirked as he licked his lips, turning away from you.

“i don’t like the beach” he stated simply, shrugging his shoulders and focusing on the tv infront of him.

“well too bad, it’s not even a whole day, just one afternoon please bucky” you pouted, putting on hand on his thigh and looking at him pleadingly.

Bucky felt his heart rate spike, you were so cute, he would do anything for you. But no, he hated the beach, the sand would get everywhere and it’s so hot.

“sorry y/n” Bucky shrugged and you sighed, getting up from the couch and heading to your room, wondering how to convince the super soldier to go.

The next day you were sat next to Sam, complaining about how Bucky wouldn’t go with you.

“i told him it would be so bad, i was gonna confess and everything i had it all planned out” you spoke, voice lowered so only sam could hear.

He was quiet for a few moments, coming up with a plan quickly, a smirk on his face as Bucky entered the living room.

“yeah I’ll go to the beach with you” Sam spoke, a charming smile on his face, Bucky turned to face the two of you.

You furrowed your brows but quickly caught on, a smile breaking onto your face. Throwing your arms around sam you squealed.

“yay! I’ll pack the sandwiches and fruits right now, i have my change of clothes packed already” you smiled, Bucky looking at you with doe eyes.

“oh hi buck” you grinned, moving past him.

“you’re uh- you going with Wilson?” Bucky spoke, clearing his throat and trying to hide his jealousy.

“yeah, you didn’t wanna go so i figured I’d go with someone else” you shrugged, eyeing him.

“wh- i never said no” Bucky protested, watching you fill the basket with some of his favorite fruits. “technically speaking i never actually rejected the offer” he continued.

You furrowed your eyebrows and stopped moving for a second.

“I guess you didn’t huh, but you said you hate the beach so” you trailed off, closing the basket and making eye contact with the super soldier.

“cant be that bad if I’m with you doll” he smirked and you blushed, clearing your throat and looking down at the basket.

“so you do wanna go to the beach” you stated, walking past him and setting the basket on the counter near the door, sitting back down on the couch near sam.

“yeah” Bucky spoke, turning to face you and you nodded. Sam fought the smile on his face, acting like he had to take a call, leaving only the two of you in the living room.

“okay well you should back some towels and stuff then” you stated and Bucky nodded, getting up and going to his room to get everything he needed.

Sam soon emerged from the hall, a smirk on his face as you broke out into a fit of giggles.

“Sam Wilson you genius” you grinned, hugging him.

“i know, i know, now you go have fun, for the love of god i hope he finally admits he liked you” he groaned, “tired of seeing him pining all the damn time.”

You took your bag and the basket and set them in the backseat of the car, making sure you had everything and waiting in the drivers seat, music playing from the speakers.

Bucky soon walked out, setting his bag in the backseat and hopping in the passengers seat.

“Sam said he had a netting come up so he couldn’t come” he turned to you and you nodded, turning the volume up a bit.

“guess you’re stuck with just me huh” you joked and Bucky smiled, looking out the window as you pulled away from the compound.

The drive was long, but with Bucky there to crack jokes you felt the time fly by. Singing songs he had learned from your playlists and humming along to some 40’s songs you had grown to love because of Bucky.

When you finally arrived, your stomach was growling, jumping out of the car and pulling Bucky along to a nice table near the shore, only a little bit away from the sand.

You both unpacked the food, handing each other your favorite fruits and some other snacks you packed.

“i don’t know what you do but these are so good” bucky smiled after finishing the sandwiched you had packed, giving him the rest of yours once you got full.

“i think we were just really hungry because that was the best one I’ve ever made” you spoke, drinking some water and resting your chin in your hand.

“I was thinking we can go for a swim and then change and then go for a walk while the sunsets” you spoke, watching as the super soldier put the glass containers back into the basket, carefully closing it because focusing his attention back to you.

“sounds great doll” he grinned, getting up with you to go put the basket back in the car.

“race you to the water” you giggled, taking off before you even finished your sentence, stretching your legs as far as they go to try and outrun him.

Bucky smiled as you ran, he waited a couple second knowing he could easily catch up. He closed the car door and sprinted after you, grabbing you by the waist and spinning you around right before you got to the water.

“that’s cheating! I would’ve beat you!” You laughed, squirming in his arms so he would set you down. Bucky smiled at you as you poured at him, arms crossed.

“i gave you a 5 second head start and you’re complaining?” He teased and you hugged, flailing your arms in the air.

“look at me I’m Bucky and i can run so fast” you mocked, lowering your voice to imitate him.

“I don’t even talk like that!” he argued, frowning as you mocked him.

“i don’t even talk like that” you giggled as he frowned, quickly swooping you off the ground and running into the water.

“wait i was joking!” You spoke, eyes widening as a wave crashed into both of you, soaking you to the bone and both of your hair dripping wet, clothes clinging to your bodies.

“i was joking!” Bucky replied, making his voice a higher pitch to mock you, a smirk on his lips as you looked at him in shock.

The two of you messed around in the water for a while, eventually getting out and heading to some showers to change before the sun began to set.

You two met back at the car, Bucky in a t shirt and some shorts and you in float shorts and a hawaii t shirt he absolutely despised.

“you brought that shirt? Really?” He groaned and you smiled at him.

“it’s the beach!” You beamed at him, his gaze softening as you smiled at him.

“only you could pull that off doll face” he smiled and you blushed, closing the car door and mumbling something to yourself.

The two of you talked softly as the sunset, smiling at each other’s comments and acredites while the waves hit the sand. You don’t know how far you had walked when you stopped, looking at the red and pinks of the sky, taking a deep breath and looking at Bucky.

“i have to tell you something” you spoke, wringing your hands together and looking at Bucky as he walked closer to you.

“what is it?” he replied, concern written on his face as he looked around for any danger.

“i just- okay well for a long time” you began, fumbling with your words and moving your hands, “okay well not long but kind of long” you rambled, looking at Bucky who was confused. You shook your head and continued.

“after a while of knowing you i was just- i like you, and not like a friend- yes like a friend but more as in like like you” you paused for a moment, “you know?” You stopped and looked him in the eyes.

Bucky could hear your heart rate over the sound of the waves and seagulls, he could hear how fast it was thumping. He could also hear his, a steady beating in his ears as his face flushed and smile broke onto his face.

You, the girl of his dreams, the girl he thought was out of his league liked him. You opened your mouth, about to start rambling but Bucky wasn’t going to give you the chance.

In one quick stride he cupped your face in his hands and pressed your lips together, kissing you deeply, a smile on your face as you gladly returned the kiss.

You both pulled away, lips pink and faces hot. Seconds passed and you were the first to speak up.

“so do you like me” you questioned, chewing on your bottom lip and Buckys mouth fell open.

“we just made out and you think there’s a chance i don’t like you?” He smirked as you fumbled over your words.

“i do like you doll, i want you to be mine, i want to hold you and kiss you and i want you by my side” bucky smiled, looking at you as you smiled, your heartbeat steady in his ears.

“will you be mine?” he asked and you nodded, throwing yourself onto him and he smiled, your legs wrapped around his waist. Bucky placed a soft kiss on your cheek as he set you down.

“so is that a yes” he teased and you rolled your eyes, letting out a groan.

“you know what i take it back” you joked, crossing your arms and walking away from him. Bucky smirked as you grabbed your wrist softly, pulling you to him and connecting your lips.

Your knees grew weak as he pulled away, biting your bottom lip softly.

“still take it back?” he teased and you swallowed your words, rolling your eyes and smiling at him.

Your fingers were laced the whole walk back to the car, smiling at each other and giggling at anything the other said.

Both of you were smitten and neither of you bothered to hide it, proudly telling sam the second you walked back into the compound, the rest of the team cheering for the two of you.

“about damn time” Sam smirked, patting Bucky on the shoulder and giving you a hug.

“Bruce you owe me $20” Nat smiled and the scientist laughed, protesting on how they never shook hands.

Amidst the chaos the two of you slipped away, heading to shower and change before meeting up in Buckys room to watch some movies.

“M happy i can call you mine doll” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head softly and you hummed in agreement.

“I’m glad i finally bagged the most attractive avenger” you grinned, loving the way he blushed at your comment. You moved closer to bucky, you head resting on his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep as the movie played in the background.

Bucky smiled as your breathing steadied, heart growing as everything finally hit him. You were his. You were his and he was gonna do everything he could to give you the world.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes blurb #Bucky Barnes Drabble #soft!bucky barnes #soft bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader

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asscandles · 3 years

Note

Hello !!! I really liked ur writing (also the fandoms you do are chef's kiss) and i wanted to request for Mondo, Togami and Fuyuhiko (separately of course) with a very touchy (short 👀 I'm like 5'0") reader, who likes to squish their cheeks, hug them and give lil smoochies, sit or have the boys sit on her lap and other stuff like that? (It'd be cute if it were a mutual crush situation but I don't mind platonic either) Thank you sm in advance if you write it !!

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ!! ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ. ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ʟɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ!

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ + ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴇ

Mondo Owada

Honestly, he never thought he would ever be in this position.

Him? The Ultimate Biker Gang Leader? Receiving a constant supply of affection?

Ridiculous. Improbable. Impossible.

Oh, but don’t get me wrong. It’s not like he doesn’t enjoy the attention. But after he accidentally shouted at you in embarrassment when you complimented his eyes, reflexively crushed a pencil and consequently showered you with the splintered wood when you ambushed him with a hug, and fled from the premises after you innocuously offered to massage his shoulders… the idea of you sticking around in his life seemed unfeasible.

But here you are.

It doesn’t take him long to grow accustomed to the attentiveness and devotion you always treat him with.

“So, we should close off this area and tighten our control around this neighborhood. Oh, and maybe--”

“Uh, sir? What’s… um… What’s..?” One of his men tentatively pointed to where you were clinging to Mondo’s back, legs constricted around his waist and arms looped around his neck, blinking blankly at the man standing before you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Mondo didn’t even flinch. “Anyway, as I was saying--”

Mondo really doesn’t mind when you cling to him in public. In fact, he appreciates the warmth of your body and the unexpected sense of security that holding your hand gives him.

But, he starts to draw the line when you stand in front of him while he’s sitting, smiling sweetly as you squish his cheeks and giggle about how adorable he is. He always flushes a florid shade and averts his eyes from yours. He would never tell you, but whenever you do that, he feels so defenseless, something that the rest of his crew should never know about.

That’s why he tells you to keep such intimate actions private. When you two are alone, you can squish his cheeks and pepper his face with kisses as often as you want. You understand this, and you’re always ecstatic whenever you walk in on him somewhere he’s alone.

You’re so short he loves it omg.

He thinks that watching you struggle to reach his face with your lips is so funny. He will often poke fun at you by either pretending to not see you or lifting his chin even higher. When you finally give up and try to storm away with a huff, he captures you in his arms and lifts you off the ground while you grumble indignantly.

Okay, but when you press yourself against him and wrap yourself in the loose fabric of his jacket so that it covers both of you? BITCHHH he melts.

Due to your short stature, you often find yourself seated upon his shoulders. At first, Mondo was taunted by his friends for quote-on-quote “having his head buried between your thighs,” but Mondo easily dismissed their teasing. He knew that your intentions were nothing less than pure…

Even if he initially was nervous and sweaty at the idea of being so… so close to you.

Mondo always treated you as if you were made of glass. Since you’re so small and he’s so muscular and tall, he always feared that a single bump or scratch would absolutely eviscerate your bones and pulverize your internal organs. For a while, he had been worried that he would forget about his own strength and accidentally hurt you. So, it did take him a little longer to reciprocate your affectionate.

That being said, he nearly flipped his shit when you nonchalantly asked him to try sitting in your lap. His brain was pumping out ideas at ninety miles an hour, but his lips could only communicate half of them, leaving him stuttering and nearly choking on his saliva. He was certain that he would crush your body beyond recognition if he tried.

No way. No. No. Absolutely not.

He’s cool with having you seated on his lap, though. In fact, he even encourages it. Having such a stunning gem to show off to his men during meetings stokes the flames of confidence within him, often resulting in a shit-eating grin and a protective hand on your shoulder or around your waist.

You get unlimited access to Mondo with his hair down, you lucky bitch.

You’re absolutely bewitched with how soft his hair is as it slips through your fingers like rivulets of water, the opposite of how it feels when it’s gelled into his usual hairstyle. You spend a lot of time combing your fingers through his hair and lightly scratching his scalp. Mondo finds it extremely relaxing, and he often comes to you whenever he has a headache or needs an extra push that will lull him to sleep.

Byakuya Togami

Before you appeared in his life, he had never been subjected to genuine love and sentiment. In his world, it was either surpass or be surpassed. Mercy was not an option, and competition was all he knew. As a result, he views everyone around him as inferior and lesser creatures.

When you first started to show kindness to him, he thought that you were merely pitying him because he spent so much time by himself. This led to him holding you at an icy distance and shooting scathing remarks in your direction.

However, you were steadfast in your determination to make Byakuya a part of your life. It took some time, but soon enough, you had earned a place in his heart.

He wished that he didn’t know how it was possible for you to have become such an essential part of his life, but he did. No matter how many times he told you that you were annoying, a distraction, or disgusting, it was clear that you were absolutely unaffected by it. You knew that his dislike of you wasn’t personal. Your tenacity is what caused his harsh words to dissipate in his throat and him to surrender to the prospect of developing a relationship with you.

You were strong, and he understood that now.

It definitely takes him a long time to accept your clingy nature, and even then, he sometimes feels suffocated by the surplus of affection.

It doesn’t mean that he completely brushes you off. It just means that you have to be more sparing with your ministrations.

He sees nothing wrong with allowing you a quick hug or to hold his hand in public. If anyone says anything about it, he will deadass act like nothing is happening. He knows that if he acknowledges it, the chances of him becoming openly flustered will skyrocket.

He would never be able to live it down.

Anything else you would like to do to him, he prefers to keep it private.

Wow, that sounds suggestive.

Whatever, let’s proceed.

He’ll gripe and complain about you being heavy, but he never pushes you off or directly tells you to get off when you burrow your way beneath his arm and curl into his side while he reads. He’ll just sigh and settle his arm around you with the tiniest, most discreet smile.

He can’t help but chuckle to himself when you remove his glasses so that you can wear them instead. His chuckle flourishes into a genuine laugh when you promptly yank them off, your stomach churning in protest of your warped vision.

When you hold his hand in private, you pay a lot of attention to his fingers. You toy with them, marveling at how strong they are despite their slender appearance.

So, kisses are a thing.

“What was that?”

“Uh, a kiss.”

“Revolting… Do it again.”

A common thing, actually.

You plant kisses everywhere that you can: his fingertips, his cheeks, his shoulders, the back of his hand, his nose. He never fails to blush red as a rose, often pulling away and pressing the back of his hand to his mouth.

If you want him to complain in mock disgust, press a sloppy, prolonged kiss right in the center of his forehead.

If you want him to squirm, brush the softest kiss you can manage to either his collarbone or the shell of his ear. Biiiitchhhh…

ANYWAY, THAT’S NOT THE POINT--

Surprise, surprise. He loves poking fun at your height. How shocking. How absolutely unbelievable.

Like Mondo, he finds amusement in watching you balance on your tiptoes as you try to kiss him. You, however, combat his devious snickering by seizing his crossover tie and yanking him down to your height, catching him off guard. Then, all he can do is inwardly grumble about his blunder while you press a kiss to the corner of his lips

He once actually sat on you to trap you after you tried (and failed) to tickle him. He wasn’t expecting you to laugh gleefully and wrap your arms around his waist to anchor him to you. Since you were enjoying what he deemed a punishment, it was no longer pleasurable for him. He finds it embarrassing to voluntarily sit on anyone’s lap--let alone the lap of someone remarkably smaller than him. He sees it as a role of submission. Need I explain more?

He won’t complain if you sit on his, though. Well, I lied. This bitch complains about everything. It’s more like… he won’t reject you if you end up on his lap.

But about a half hour into whatever the hell this “cuddling” thing is, Byakuya discovers that the combination of your weight and body heat is an interesting catalyst for the onslaught of fatigue that he’s been procrastinating for the longest time.

You happen to doze off first. But upon awakening, you notice that Byakuya’s head is resting against yours, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist. His book is closed beside him.

Ngl, you thought he was actually going to rock your shit the first time you squished his cheeks. His frosty glare was enough to make you draw back in shock, but it soon disappeared, accompanied by a sigh from him.

“You have one more opportunity to do that. Don’t waste it.”

Oh, you definitely don’t.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

Someone is???? Smaller than him???

!!!!

That one inch of height makes him feel so powerful omfg.

Because of his job, he would rather keep any kind of affection hidden behind closed doors. The only people who he would let PDA slide around are those in his immediate circle, like his family, Peko, and whoever else serves directly under him.

He just wants to keep you safe, and he feels that the best way to do that is to not make it known that he has a soft spot for you.

You smile at the way his aloof, callous demeanor switches to a gentler, more amicable one when he sees you waiting for him to finish whatever job he’s been tasked with. His perpetual scowl melts away, the wrinkles of irritation blemishing his forehead smooth, and his distrusting, narrowed eyes round with an almost childlike, innocent delight.

You enjoy the latter side of him so much that it isn’t uncommon for you to cling to his waist and drop like dead weight, forcing him to drag you with him across the floor if he wants to return to work.

“Hiko… You can’t leave..!” You whine. “I’ll miss you..!”

“I’m sorry…” He huffs, taking another step while you’re dragged behind him like some ragdoll. “But I have things I need to take care of!”

You eventually sink into a heap on the floor when he reaches the door, making a half-hearted attempt to hold on to his ankles.

He chuckles and squats down in front of you. “I’ll be back later.” You sit up and sharply turn your head away with a pout. He gently yet firmly seizes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, directing you to look at him. “Promise.” His eyes are gentle, but you know he’s serious. You reluctantly release him.

“Okay,” you mumble. “Please, be safe.”

You know the, “When I was your age…” thing?

Yeah, Fuyuhiko does that shit. But, he does, “When I was your height…” instead.

A fucki.ng pO w e R trip.

He really likes the feeling of having you on his lap. It makes him feel like he’s actually capable of offering security to someone. Bonus points if you straddle his lap and hug him close in return, resting your chin on his shoulder.

Back-hugs? Back-hugs.

The first time you snuck up on him and embraced him from behind, he almost knocked you tf out. But over time, he’s gotten used to it. That doesn’t mean you don’t manage to catch him off guard from time to time. Feeling him jolt and hearing him yelp in shock when you wrap your arms around his waist never fails to make you laugh. One time, you laughed so hard that your legs gave out and you tumbled to the ground, accidentally dragging him with you.

Whenever he’s stressed, kisses always seem to be the cure. Sprinkled across his cheeks, tracing the edge of his jaw, following the shell of his ear, pressed to his fingertips--you name it. Whatever you have to offer, he’s more than happy to let you have your way and shower him with love.

You pay special attention to his freckles. Whenever he’s had a taxing day, you vow to kiss each and every freckle on his face. When you’re lulling him to sleep with his head in your lap, you smooth a feather-light fingertip over his cheeks, playing connect-the-dots with his freckles.

But there are just some days where he needs to be the baby, y’know? On those days, he likes laying with his face pressed into your stomach and his body curled into your embrace. You watch over him lovingly, tracing the designs shaved into his hair with a curious finger and slowly massaging his scalp.

He needs reassurance every now and then, verbal or otherwise. You are always more than willing to oblige, filling whatever role he needs at the moment.

He always takes necessary precautions, such as locking the doors and drawing the curtains, before he allows himself to strip his soul bare and lay all of his impurities before you. This is a side of him that no one else must know about. Otherwise, his reputation would take a massive blow.

Speaking of “baby,” it’s no secret that Fuyuhiko positively despises his baby face. You, however, adore it. You like to squish his cheeks and coo about how cute he is. He never resists you, and will even play along by puckering his lips at you if he’s in a good mood. It doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t like his face, but if you seem to be fond of it, then maybe it’s not all that bad.

But if anyone else even thinks about touching him in such a manner, then that’s it.

Their ass is grass.

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engagedzukka · 4 years

Note

Ok so ur Taylor Swift Zukka playlist is *chefs kiss* and I need to add that my tears ricochet is 10000 percent about Zuko’s relationship with his family and no one can convince me otherwise

FIRST of all, thanks for listening!

SECOND of all, thanks for giving me a platform to ramble even MORE about this!

THIRD of all, about my tears ricochet.....

I know you said that no one can convince you otherwise, but have you considered the possibility that MTR is not about Zuko, but rather about Azula?

Because what is MTR about? It’s about stooping low, refusing to take the high road, and instead vowing to take revenge when someone you love, and someone who claims to love YOU, has hurt you. this is very in-line with Azula’s mindset around the time of the final Agni Kai against Zuko.

I think MTR fits much more with Azula’s perspective than it does with Zuko’s for three main reasons: 1) Azula’s attacker (Zuko) claims to act based on selfless motivation; on the other hand, Zuko’s attackers (Azula, Ozai) never claimed to act out of anything besides self-interest; 2) Azula’s attackers (Zuko, and to some extent Ozai and Ursa) claim to view her in a positive light, whereas Zuko’s attackers (Azula and Ozai) do not claim to view him that way; and 3) Azula lashes out against Zuko and the other people close to her out of anger and a desire to inflict pain and instill fear; Zuko is only the aggressor when defending himself or pursuing what he views as a higher moral ideal.

ANALYSIS UNDER THE CUT CAUSE THIS GOT LONG

1) Azula’s antagonists claim the moral high ground. Zuko’s do not.

Consider the following lyrics:

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And you're the hero flying around saving face

I think this lyric really serves to capture Azula’s state of mind following the final Agni Kai. Zuko, after taking the throne, is the “hero,” pretending to save the Fire Nation from its past. Obviously, Azula fails to see or to accept that this motivation is genuine, because to her, being the Fire Lord is personal. It’s not about pursuing a higher ideal; it’s about securing power for herself (which in turn is a way of securing the affirmation she desperately craves from her father).

On the other hand, it’s highly unlikely Zuko would ever characterize Azula or Ozai as acting like a “hero.” He sees them for what they are, and they see themselves that way, too.

Additionally:

You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same Cursing my name, wishing I stayed You turned into your worst fears

You HAD to kill me. You had some moral OBLIGATION to kill me. Zuko’s abusers never felt the need to extinguish him, and this is borne out by the fact that they never actually did. He was never dangerous or important or powerful enough. But it’s different for Zuko - he HAS to put a stop to Azula’s reign, or countless people will be hurt. Thus, I think this line makes a lot more sense coming from Azula’s perspective, speaking to Zuko.

Also, Zuko doesn’t think Azula turned into her worst fears. He thinks she became exactly what she wanted to be, a dictator with unlimited authority. But Azula thinks Zuko became HIS worst fears by becoming an arbitrary, power-hungry leader, one willing to take out his own sister to get what he wants.

2) Azula’s antagonists claim to love her. Zuko’s do not.

It’s likely that Azula would disbelieve or mischaracterize Zuko’s mourning of her, as Taylor does in the following lines:

And if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed

When Zuko defects from the Fire Nation, he has no expectation that anyone in his family will be “wishing he stayed.” There is no genuine mourning of the loss of Zuko, and he doesn’t think there will be. Neither Azula nor Ozai ever make any sort of public claim that they wish he stayed, not after Day of Black Sun.

On the other hand, Azula likely does hear Zuko mourning her loss, post Agni-Kai. I think we can all imagine that after Azula is committed for treatment and Zuko has ascended to power, Zuko will likely make clear that he is remorseful for what happened to Azula and expressly wish that things were different. And if you’re Azula, the person Zuko is “mourning” after he beat her and took away what was rightfully hers, how would you react to that? You would think it was disingenuous. You would ask, if I’m dead to you, why are you at the wake? If you’re the one who finished me, how can you despair that I’m finished?

And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones

In case it isn’t clear without the context of the song, in this line Taylor is basically saying: you can hurt me, but you’ll regret it, because you’ll be hurting yourself, too.

Now, after Zuko defected for the last time from the Fire Nation, I don’t think he has any fantasy that Ozai or Azula will be “missing him in their bones.” He has come to recognize their family dynamic for what it is, one based on manipulation as opposed to love. He doesn’t think they’ll regret the hurt they’ve caused him, and he accepts that.

But at the time of the final Agni Kai, Azula hasn’t had this revelation yet. She DOES think she will be missed eventually, either by Zuko or by Ozai. She does think that time will tell, and Zuko will come to regret hurting her, that he’ll miss her in his bones. And honestly, that’s probably an accurate assessment to some extent!

And you're tossing out blame Drunk on this pain Crossing out the good years

Azula sees Zuko as “crossing out the good years” of their childhood friendship, whereas Zuko has come to realize by now that there were no good years, not really. Thus, this line makes a lot more sense coming from Azula’s perspective.

Finally:

And I still talk to you When I'm screaming at the sky And when you can't sleep at night You hear my stolen lullabies

When Zuko has given up on his family, I don’t think it can be said that he’s still reaching out to them (”I still talk to you”) or trying to make himself heard by them (”when I’m screaming at the sky”). Nor does it seem like he expects for them to haunted by his memory (his “stolen lullabies”). It’s more likely he believes they will be apathetic.

On the other hand, I think it’s likely that Azula would continue lashing out at Zuko after she’s locked up - even if it will never really reach him. Even if it’s just screaming at the sky. And more importantly, I think that she would hope that he would be kept up at night thinking of what he did to her. She would want him to hear her stolen lullabies when he can’t sleep. She would want him to be haunted by his memory. She would EXPECT him to be. I don’t think Zuko ever wished anything like this on Ozai or Azula, and I don’t think he EXPECTED this from them, either, because he doesn’t believe either of them ever truly cared about him at all.

3) Azula's motivations are personal. Zuko’s are not.

THIS, the idea of taking revenge against a lost love who betrayed you, is at the core of my tears ricochet. And that’s the primary reason why I think this song fits Azula so much better than it fits Zuko. Zuko doesn’t fight Azula because he wants revenge; he does it because it’s what he thinks is right for the Fire Nation and the world as a whole. Azula is objectively dangerous and needs to be incapacitated for reasons that are not personal to him. On the other hand, consider these lines:

And if I'm on fire You'll be made of ashes, too

and

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves

Both of these lyrics refer to the decision to commit a violent act, not to pursue some higher ideal (like ending a war), but out of anger for an act committed against oneself. I find that both of these lines go a long way to describe Azula’s mindset DURING that final Agni Kai, when she forfeits the fight and decides to aim for Katara instead of Zuko. At that point, Azula knows she’s losing. She knows Zuko has KILLED her, metaphorically, and maybe a literal execution is soon to follow. And what does Azula do in that moment? She doesn’t have it in herself to go with grace. She doesn’t accept that she’s lost. Instead she fights dirty. She makes it personal.

Zuko never goes there. Azula does. AZULA’S tears ricochet. Which is why I will always, more than anything, associate this song with her.

And if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake? Cursing my name Wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet.

LISTEN FOR YOURSELF AND DECIDE.

#HI #I WENT A BIT PSYCHO AND WROTE THIS #i hate myself too #ask #anon

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svtxsoju · 4 years

Text

00. prologue | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is! ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Pairings TBA! ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, mentions of sex, language, bad jokes ღ Word Count: 2.6k words ღ Binu’s Note: hi to anyone who is reading this!!! i’m super excited (and kinda nervous :0) to post this bc i’ve been working on this project for a while now. aaaa i hope there are at least some people who can enjoy it! this is a relatively short-ish chapter but it’s p dense with exposition lol but anyway if ur reading this, thank you i love you!!!

《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ Navigation ⊛ 》

《 Previous ⊛ Next 》

Introducing The Front ’s New Romance Advice Columnist: Miss Soju!

We all have an ideal: an ideal type, an ideal first date, an ideal relationship. The problem is love isn’t ideal at all. And sooner or later, we find ourselves sitting on that plastic chair in that tent on the side of the road with an ache in our chest. You’re hurt, confused, and kind of going crazy-- all the tell-tale symptoms of heartbreak are there. And the only cure? Soju, of course!

Finding a decent partner and maintaining a healthy, sustainable relationship is difficult enough as it is. Then layer it with the culture shock of university, where you’re experiencing actual adulthood for the first time without mommy and daddy to hold your hand. It’s enough to make anyone lose their minds! Sure, you could always turn to your friends for support and advice, but in all honesty, they’re even more of a mess than you are.

That’s why Mansae University’s affiliate newspaper, The Front, will be reviving our romance advice column this fall! Each week, Miss Soju will be answering all your burning questions, and that means all of them. Her expertise touches on topics as simple as explaining to that one guy that your love is fated because you passed each other at Yuhaeng Quad, like three times, and extends to more extreme situations that require an anonymous veil, like how to confess to your new boyfriend with the furry fetish that you’ve been severely allergic to animals since you were three and you have no idea how any animals act, let alone… Yikes.

It’s true, college is full of new and bizarre experiences, some we must go through and some we’d much rather avoid. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet the love of your life here. But it’s okay to admit that you need a little guidance through the mystical and confusing world of college dating. Miss Soju has got your back, and she’s not afraid to hit you with that real shit. As she always says, good advice is like taking a shot: sweet on the lips but burns your throat as you swallow it down.

Monday, June 3rd, 2019 3:07PM

“Jihoon, I don’t know if I can do this.”

Name: So Joohyun. Major: Journalism major with a minor in communications. Estimated graduation year: 2021. Desired position: World News Journalism Intern. That was what she had put on her application for The Front’s junior internship program. She had made sure to attach her published articles and to emphasize her interest in-- no, her passion for-- reporting compelling stories on an international scale. Not once in her application did she indicate that she was an expert in love or sex, let alone qualified to give others advice on the subjects! In fact, she was probably the least qualified person on campus for this position, which was probably the most perplexing aspect of the whole situation.

But despite all of that, there she was, sitting in Yuhaeng Quad with her best friend, reading the promo piece she had written for Miss Soju. Jihoon had been ecstatic when he had thought of the nickname back in high school. She had snuck bottles of the alcohol over to his house one night after finals week, and he had drunkenly claimed that the name was doubly clever since So-ju were also the first two syllables in her name. When the newspaper had told her she needed an anonymous pen name, it was the only thing she could think of, mostly because creating a secret identity had made her in desperate need of a drink. She changed her mind. Having a secret identity was equally as perplexing as pretending to know how to spice up people’s sex lives. It was like she was some kind of Love Spiderman. She was not ready for that kind of great power or the great responsibility that came with it!

“‘I don’t know if I can do this’?” Jihoon repeated her words slowly. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say those words in that order. Can I take your picture? I need to commemorate this moment.”

“Can’t you see that I am having a crisis?” she whined. “The integrity of my career is on the line because I’ve never bothered to go on a date!”

“When are you not having a crisis?” Jihoon laughed. He sat up from lying down on their picnic tarp to give her full view of his smug grin. Originally, he had dragged Joohyun outside in hopes that the perfect summer weather would help relieve some of her stress from the past week. He even found her favorite spot under the shade of an ancient tree that overlooked the stretch of green field. But Jihoon could not call himself a proper best friend if he passed on an opportunity to rub all of this in her face. “This is what you get for chickening out on all our group blind dates! I could have scored that hot bassist girl with the thigh tattoo, but nooo, you always had to put your career first.”

“Sue me for having priorities!” she huffed. Leave it to Jihoon to chalk this all up to karma. Now that he mentioned it though, she couldn’t help but feel like a higher power was taking a piss on her life. Or maybe it was just the shit-eating smile on Jihoon’s face that had her on edge. Joohyun tried to avert her focus to a couple of boys tossing a frisbee around instead, but somehow that irked her too. The idyllic weather, the carefree students, everything that was pleasant seemed to mock her sour mood. She pouted at the ground in defeat, and continued, “You are the first person to know that if I was told that dating and fucking around were going to be crucial to my journey to becoming South Korea’s top journalist by the time I turn 25, I would have become a hoe long ago.”

“Woah, are you gonna start your thot phase for this? Are we gonna have a hot girl summer?” The boy began to bounce excitedly. Joohyun felt it was high time to give him the finger, but she also felt a small smile tugging at her frown. “Easier said than done, though. Remember Jessi from high school?”

“Yeah I remember,” she said with a sigh. High school romance had lured so many of her friends into its clutches, with its enticing promises of sweet chocolates and stuffed animals, and she had helplessly watched from the top of the class as they forsook their grades for boys who didn’t even know what deodorant was. She only shuddered to think of the state of their grades after a nasty break up. It was then that Joohyun had decided that her future was not worth risking over a boy’s attention. “Which is exactly why I never got involved in all that mess in the first place.”

“This must be the gods telling you that it’s time to.”

“What kind of fucked up god sets up a virgin as a love advice columnist?” she asked the sky loudly. If she had known there was anyone listening, she would have insisted that her question was rhetorical and was not in need of any type of response! However, the gods cared not for grammar technicalities on the mortal plane. They just couldn’t resist the chance to respond to someone so openly questioning their decisions with some good ol’ spite. Honestly, with the way things were going for her lately, Joohyun probably should have expected the frisbee flying merrily towards her face, even if she hadn’t just challenge the universe.

“Oh fuck!” Joohyun jerked out of the way and felt the frisbee thunk against her shoulder instead. “Ow.” At this point, she didn’t even have the capacity to be annoyed; she just braced herself for whatever misfortune life threw at her next.

“Sorry about that!” A boy called out, jogging up to them. As he came into clearer view, she noted that he looked far from misfortunate, and also had to remind herself that staring was rude even if someone was unnaturally handsome. His features were soft yet striking, like he had been carefully sculpted from cotton candy. Or maybe a fluffy rain cloud? Joohyun shook her head a little as if that would get her to stop staring so shamelessly. She speculated whether it was the sun that made it look like his blond hair was a glowing halo. Okay seriously, stop staring! He gave Joohyun a sweet smile when he reached them. “My friend got a bit distracted. Now that I’m here, I can’t say that I blame him. Hope we didn’t do too much damage!”

“Uh,” was her captivating reply.

Jihoon, never one to miss such a ripe opportunity, piped up beside her. “She’ll be fine. This is Joohyun, by the way.”

His smile widened at Woozi’s introduction, and Joohyun could swear there was an actual twinkle in his eyes. “Nice to meet you both. I’m--”

“Yoon Jeonghan!” They all looked towards the call. The ethereal boy let out a startlingly loud cackle at the sight of his friend, who gave the two strangers a sheepish wave before continuing to gesture for Jeonghan to return. Joohyun must have been put in a staring mood, because she didn’t miss how his friend’s big ears were a shade of pink and how they bloomed into a cherry red when they briefly made eye contact. She caught herself wondering if all the boys at Mansae University were always this cute.

“I guess I better go,” the boy named Jeonghan shrugged. Joohyun felt his fingers brush against hers when he took the frisbee from her hand, his eyes glinting mischievously. Now she was sure she was seeing things. “See you two around!”

They both watched him retreat in an awestruck silence. That was certainly… unanticipated. Even long after Jeonghan and his friend were out of sight, the brief encounter left a blanket of fogginess lingering over them. Had she not felt his fingers on hers, Joohyun would have easily believed that it had all been in her head. At the same time, she was pretty sure that she wasn’t bold enough to conjure up someone that looked like that on her own. As she continued to fathom how a human being could glow, Joohyun felt the fog dissipate into the warm summer air. She felt like she was waking up from a disorienting dream, and she blinked to hasten the process. To her growing bewilderment, she found that her heartbeat was steady as she came back to her senses, her mind seemingly devoid of the panic and doubt that had plagued her all week. It was a gasp of fresh air.

Jihoon, on the other hand, had long broken free from the strong impression that the blond boy made. He noted the dazed look on his best friend’s face and rolled his eyes. Who knew that a pretty boy was all it took to make her shut up a bit? He nudged Joohyun impatiently, so that she could pay attention to him while he roasted her for totally flubbing her chances. “You thinking of risking it all for that guy?”

In an instant, Joohyun slammed herself back into reality just to shove Jihoon away from her. “That is so not happening,” she said a little too indignantly. Before Jihoon could reassure her that the guy seemed interested enough even though she had only said a single syllable to him, Joohyun suddenly turned to him very seriously. “Do you really think I can do it, Jihoon?”

“What, bang that guy? I can try calling him back here if you want,” he snickered.

“You know what I mean!”

“Okay sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Jihoon replied, his grin now melting into a familiar smile, the one that could put her at ease on her lowest days. “I just don’t know why you have to ask. You and I both know that you kick ass at writing. You’ve written about stuff like natural disasters and the student protests, no problem at all. It’s not like you have a PhD in environmental science or politics. How is this any different? ”

Joohyun scrunched her face as if Jihoon had just suggested that chocolate milk came from brown cows. “Dude, they’re completely different. Those articles were reporting on facts. I did research, I conducted interviews!”

“That’s what I’m saying, Joo!” Jihoon exclaimed suddenly. As smart as she was, he couldn’t help getting a little giddy whenever he thought of a good idea before her. “Why not treat Miss Soju like any other of your other projects? I mean, love is probably one of the most well-documented experiences throughout history, and people are still going through all the same shit. There’s probably thousands of resources for a man simping on a hot chick alone. You can even take your pick, like movies, songs, books, weird couples on Youtube?You don’t need to have experience, because you can just do the research! ”

“Research?” Joohyun repeated. If there was one thing that she was good at, it was doing the work. From the moment she had decided to become a journalist, everything she had done was a strategic move to get her closer to her end goal. She had spent sleepless nights perfecting the details of her writing, countless hours reading through endless archives of old articles. Hell, she even restricted herself from dating for years just so she could focus on keep her grades up. It was almost too easy of a solution. Maybe she was meant to do this after all.

Another couple of months of research would simply be another hurdle on her way to the finish line and she was getting closer and closer. Finally, she felt a smile spread across her cheeks, a real, genuine smile. “I… I can do that.”

“Now that,” Jihoon said as he took her hand in his, pulling her up to her feet, “sounds like So Joohyun. Or should I say Miss Soju?”

She laughed as she dusted the grass off of her butt. “You know, it’s probably not a good idea to include the first part of my name in my anonymous persona. It makes it so obvious that it’s me.”

“Yeah, I mean it would be obvious if people actually knew who you were in the first place,” Jihoon scoffed, narrowly dodging a kick from her. “That’s a good thing for you! Anyway, let’s get out of here, I have a couple of tweaks to make to my song before releasing it tonight. Could you listen to it by the way? I need to know if it’s too cheesy.”

“Oh, the song you’re writing about your mystery muse?” Joohyun hummed playfully while packing up their blanket. She followed after her best friend as he began the short climb uphill. “I don’t know if I want to, you’ve been pretty out of pocket today.”

“Hey!” he said defensively. “First: I don’t need a muse for my songs, I just have a very vivid imagination and my talent does the rest. Second: I literally just stopped you from giving up on your lifelong dream of becoming a journalist, so I think you owe me one. You’re just jealous I can write love songs without having an existential crisis.”

“See, that is what I mean by out of pocket,” she paused for a beat. “I may be willing to listen to your song. For a small price, of course.”

“Okay, deal,” he agreed without hesitation, missing the way Joohyun deviously smirked beside him. They reached the concrete pavement at top of the hill and headed in the direction of his nearby apartment. “What is it this time, Ms. So?”

“Well Mr. Lee, thanks to your lovely suggestion earlier, I have been inspired to begin work immediately. So we shall be watching Twilight on movie night,” she said all too gleefully, mostly for satisfaction that Jihoon’s twisted face of disgust gave her.

“Do we have to?” he groaned.

“It’s for my research!”

#seventeen #seventeen scenario #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #jihoon scenarios #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #seungcheol #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #pour.up #dj.woozi #mu.eros #soju.queen

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kae-karo · 4 years

Note

to repent for ur sins i've decided that you can conjure up some childhood friends bkdk thots for me 😤

sdlkfjslkdfjlksd cowboy!shiggy is your hc i can’t elaborate on it the way u can - send me a bnha character or ship and i’ll give u my thots (x)!

but i shall gladly give u some bakudeku thots - i mean we all know the canon: baku was a babie asshole to deku and deku was as oblivious to the early childhood bullying as olaf is to his impending demise in his rendition of ‘in summer’. however, per rosey’s request, this is the fanon au we deserve where baku and deku were. actually friends lmao

baku, as a smol child, maybe for once in his damn life, could see things as they actually were. and he loved showing off his quirk for deku cause deku was always so excited about it???? and deku had always said (even before he got his quirk) that kacchan would be just as awesome as all might

i think some aspects of baku’s personality would still remain, like i don’t think he’d recognize how badly it hurt deku when he was told he didn’t have a quirk. and as little kids are prone to do, i think he’d still have made fun of deku for it without realizing

but deku still sticks around cause baku is still the coolest person he knows, and he still looks up to him, and baku starts to figure out that deku is much happier when he doesn’t talk as much about his own quirk. besides, plenty of other people ask him to show off his quirk, so he still gets to do it a lot. besides, he can show deku that he’s still the best even without a quirk. cause it wouldn’t be fair if he beat deku at all their games just cause he has a quirk and deku doesn’t

(like seriously imagine if baku had that attitude in canon lmao)

so instead of pushing deku away, they push each other to get stronger (quirk or no). they’re always in competition, but it’s not as enemies, it’s as friendly rivals. the first time deku broke a bone was falling from a tree seeing which of them could climb higher (get used to that feeling deku buddy) it’s also the first time baku figured out how to use his quirk to help him land safely on the ground - baku fell first, and deku tried to catch him

baku still absolutely hates accepting help from anyone, but deku’s figured out how to make everything sound like a competition. baku knows that’s exactly what he’s doing, but babie boye still has a fragile ego and is more than happy to let deku talk circles around it so he doesn’t have to feel like he’s accepting help

deku doesn’t mind tho, ya boi really really really really likes baku. but just as friends ofc cause like haha he doesn’t like, like-like kacchan. they’ve been friends for forever, they’re just really close!

baku’s crush on deku hits like a ton of bricks falling from a 30-story building, after deku beats him at some pointless competition that ended with both of them out of breath and ready to collapse (they were racing get y’alls minds out of the gutter) and deku actually did collapse but it was intentional and he was laughing and baku was just like ‘oh fuck. oh fuck.’ and he suddenly summoned the power to run another half mile all the way home and hide in his room and ignore his messages and try not to blow anything up cause his mom would kill him

from that point on, baku is very careful around deku. he doesn’t touch him, doesn’t get too close, tries not to stare for too long when deku’s laughing. it��s always the laughing that gets him

and then deku says he’s gonna try to get into UA just like kacchan. and baku’s pretty sure his heart snaps in half. because deku doesn’t have a quirk and it’d be impossible, but he can’t be the one to say that, can he? deku’s never listened to his mom about it, insisted he could become a hero anyway. baku always changed the subject

no, baku can’t be the one to crush deku’s dreams. maybe it’s because he’s selfish, because he couldn’t handle deku crying because of something he said. so he lets deku apply, keeps his mouth shut when deku sits in the seat beside him. and he offers a tight-lipped good luck to deku as they’re split up for their practical entry exam

and baku does well - of course he does, he’s been training in all his spare time. he’s strong, his quirk is strong. he’s always known that. deku’s told him time and time again

when he gets his acceptance letter, he doesn’t tell deku. he can’t be the reason deku grins through tears at him, says that he’s so proud of kacchan and he knows he’ll be the greatest hero ever. not when he knows deku couldn’t have beaten a single one of those robots without a quirk

it’s deku that comes to him, knocking on his window in the middle of the night like they used to do when they were little and pretending to play heroes and villains in the late hours of the evening. and baku stares hard at his wall and wills deku to go away but he doesn’t. he doesn’t and doesn’t and still doesn’t and baku throws off his covers with the intent to yell at deku and tell him to go away because that’s easier than telling him the truth, any of the truth

but deku’s right outside the window - the bastard climbed up the side of baku’s house - and he’s prying at baku’s locked window in vain. and baku stands on the inside, watching him until he finally looks up. he yelps and nearly falls off, and baku tries not to laugh because this is serious, whatever’s about to happen is serious.

he can’t avoid it though, so he opens the damn window and lets damn deku in and braces himself for the worst

and it’s so much worse than he could’ve ever anticipated

because deku has a quirk

#bnha #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #i highkey want to write this #might save it for later and make a whole thing #dabidevito #ask #kt #ship thots

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searchingwardrobes · 5 years

Text

Black Balloon

I have found that making these gifts for all my fandom friends can be a little nerve-wracking because I want so much for my birthday girl to love her gift. It’s especially so when the birthday girl is insanely talented like @artistic-writer. How do I give her a birthday gift worthy of her? She makes the most gorgeous art and weaves the most beautiful words. I don’t know if I succeeded, but happy birthday anyway, my friend! I hate that you’ve been through so much difficulty lately, and I wanted your gift to be extra special. I guess that’s why it ended up being over 6,000 words! I was tossing and turning one night, wracking my brain for the perfect fic for you, when “Black Balloon” by the Goo Goo Dolls got stuck in my head. From there, my muse concocted this rather bizarre, fractured fairy tale of that song. I’m not sure why, but it just felt perfect for you, so happy birthday!

Summary: “The balloon chooses you,” the witch told him, but Killian didn’t want the black one. Then he sees the little blonde girl with a yellow one, and he chases her into the forest. And that, as they say, is how the fairy tale begins . . .

Rating: M for mature situations and brief voyeurism

Words: 6,000 +

Also on Ao3

Part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist series. Previous gifts can be found here ,here , and here.

Tagging @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kday426 @kmomof4 @snidgetsafan @teamhook @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @courtorderedcake @thislassishooked @bethacaciakay @delirious-latenight-laughs @shireness-says @killian-whump @cocohook38 @darkcolinodonorgasm

Baby’s black balloon makes her fly

His brother is dead. When father left two years before, it had hurt, but he didn’t feel numb. Because he had Liam. But now he’s gone, and Killian can feel nothing at all.

He knows hunger is tearing at his stomach, he knows that he should be afraid. But he can’t actually feel any of it. The fear had propelled him to run at least so he wouldn’t end up like Liam with cuts to the bone on his back that would fester and . . . He can’t bring himself to say it. Liam is gone, and nothing else matters.

He is absent from the sights and sounds swirling around him. The carnival ur was only appealing because of the crowds. He could lose his pursuers that way. Children are laughing and squealing with joy, sweethearts are holding swinging hands, loving parents are offering sweets to their exuberant, chubby cheeked children. But no one notices the skinny slave boy in the tattered clothes and bare feet. He doesn’t notice the wrinkled woman with the rainbow-colored scarves until she calls to him.

“Free balloon, my boy?”

He blinks and lifts his head to meet her gray eyes. They are kind, yet mysterious and searching. He tilts his head farther to see the colorful spheres bouncing in the wind at the end of bits of string. He tilts his head in wonder. How do they float that way? It must be magic! He reaches out a trembling hand.

“Oh no, the balloon chooses you!” she shoos him with a gnarled hand. “Back up a bit, and let the balloon come to you.”

She makes a gesture with her hands, perhaps some sort of spell, and the balloons rustle. Then one descends from the rest of the cluster, bouncing against Killian’s shoulder.

“Ah . . .” the woman muses, her eyes piercing his.

“But I don’t want a black one!” Killian protests.

“You don’t?”

He shakes his head and points. “I wanted that yellow one.”

“But this one,” she says as she pulls the string of the black balloon free from the rest, “has chosen you. That’s why they’re free.”

He forces a smile as the woman pats his cheek and then turns away dejectedly, his fist clutching the string. He sees a flash of yellow bobbing above the crowd ahead of him, and at the end of it, a little girl with hair to match. Her dress is brown muslin, scratchy, torn, and dirty. Like his own clothes. Her green eyes widen when she sees him looking her way, and she dashes off.

“Wait!” he cries, running after her. He doesn’t know why he follows; he isn’t going to take her balloon.

She dodges the crowd with practiced ease, but he’s no stranger to disappearing himself, and he keeps up fairly easily. But the lass is fast, and he loses her for a moment as he bursts out of the edges of the carnival grounds. Then he catches sight of the bright yellow and sees the lass dashing into the forest. He takes off as fast as he can, crying out that he isn’t trying to take her balloon. So why is he chasing her then? He doesn’t know.

“I know you’re around here somewhere!” he shouts as he crosses the tree line. “Just show yourself! I won’t hurt you!”

He hears a gasp, then her yellow balloon floats out from behind a large tree, and he jumps around it.

“Found you!”

“My balloon!” she cries, looking up instead of at him.

He looks up as well to see her balloon bouncing through the tops of the tallest trees. Then it breaks free and heads for the clouds, becoming a tiny speak.

“You made me lose my balloon!” she shouts, shoving him in the chest.

“You’re the one who ran! All I wanted was to say hello!”

“Chasing someone isn’t the way to make friends,” she grumbles. Then she gets a mischievous glint in her eye. “I’ll just take yours.”

“Hey!” he shouts as she snatches his balloon out of his fist. “That’s mine! It . . . it . . . chose me.”

She just laughs and spins away as he grabs for the string. They do a dance of spins and lunges for a moment, but it doesn’t take long for Killian to grab the string. Yet the girl refuses to let go and a tug of war ensues.

“Let go!”

“No, you let go!”

Then suddenly, the lass screams and throws her free arm around Killian’s neck. He startles before noticing what gave her such a fright. They’re floating through the air at the end of the black balloon.

“Maybe we should let go,” Killian whispers.

“No!” she protests, clinging to him more tightly. “We’re already really high.”

She’s right, he realizes as he looks down to see the ground far, far below. They soar higher and higher, over the tops of the trees, and Killian is now clinging to her just as much as she is to him, their knuckles turning white from clinging so tightly to the string. They seem to pick up speed when they find themselves floating over the ocean, and soon even that is far beneath them as clouds surround them. They are both still wary, but not quite as terrified.

“My name is Killian,” he tells her finally.

“Emma,” she says, her voice trembling.

Maybe only he isn't as terrified. He grips her waist a little tighter, and he gets a mouthful of hair as she tucks herself under his chin. There’s a break in the clouds, and Killian squints to see land ahead. As they draw closer and float lower, he sees that it’s an island. Soon they are floating down through thick jungle. Emma lets out a squeak and buries her face in his chest as the ground rushes up at them. They both crash into the ground, rolling away from one another. Killian opens his eyes just in time to see the black balloon turn to dust and disappear. Emma groans and scrambles to her hands and knees. He sits up and rubs at his hip.

“Look what dropped in,” a voice says. A boy, only a few years older than Killian, is standing above them. More boys of various ages step out from the trees, surrounding he and Emma. She scoots a little closer to him. The older boy squats down with a sinister smile upon his face. “Welcome to Neverland. I’m Peter Pan. Let’s play.”

Coming down the world’s turned over

And angels fall without you there

“Playing” seems to involve tying Emma up (we don’t like girls, Pan says), then shoving her into a makeshift cage. Killian looks sadly at her as she gazes at him through the bars, but he doesn’t think he should cross Pan, so he follows the teenager to a bonfire in the middle of their campsite. Until the moon and stars shine bright, the boys eat, wrestle, and dance. Sometimes they poke at Emma through the bars with sticks and laugh and tease her. She flashes her green eyes at Killian, and he ducks his head in shame. It seems to take forever, but finally all the boys are asleep, and he creeps to Emma’s cage. She’s curled up in the corner, her knees pulled to her chest, crying softly. He says nothing, simply picks up a large rock and starts to smash at the crude locking mechanism.

“Oh, so now you’re going to pretend to be a hero,” she snaps at him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “but you saw his gang. How was I supposed to fight back?”

Luckily a bunch of children aren’t the best at constructing a proper brig, and he manages to get the door open. He reaches his hand out to her, which she eyes warily.

“I think we can make quite the team,” he tells her sincerely.

She manages a smile and slips her hand into his.

Then they run.

It’s dark, but they clasp tightly to one another’s hands, not wanting to get separated in this eerie place. Branches lash at their faces, but they keep running, knowing that as soon as one of the Lost Boys awakens and sees Emma’s cage is empty, they’ll have the entire gang on their tail. Suddenly, there’s a springing noise, and the two of them are suddenly airborne again. They both scream before realizing they’ve been caught in a trap – a net made of vines. They’re an uncomfortable tangle of arms and legs, and Emma starts to cry again. Killian is tempted to get irritated with her tears, until he hears low voices and the net begins to sail through the trees on some sort of pully system. They find themselves swinging through the window of a tree house, then deposited with a crash upon the floor as the net is sliced open. The two of them look up to see two women by the light of flickering lamps; one with blonde hair pulled up in a bun, the other with braided black hair. Both have spears pointed at them.

The blonde relaxes first. “Wait, Pan doesn’t like girls.”

“So?” the other woman asks, keeping a fighting stance. “He looks like a Lost Boy to me.”

“I’m not one of them!” Killian snaps.

“Do you miss your mother?” the blonde asks sweetly.

“Sometimes,” he mumbles, “she’s dead.”

“And your father?”

“He left.”

“See, Tink!” the dark-haired woman says, “Pan will want him, regardless of the girl.”

“Excuse me!” Emma snaps, scrambling to her feet. “The girl has a name, and it’s Emma.”

“Aww, she’s got spunk,” grins the blonde, who Killian gathers is named Tink, “Can’t we keep her, Tiger Lily?”

Tiger Lily scowls but at least drops her spear. “We can’t. Remember Wendy? Besides, Pan will still come for the boy.”

“But he has no mother,” Tink insists, then turns to Emma, “or do you have a mother?”

Emma shakes her head sadly. “My parents left me at the orphanage when I was a baby.”

“Now what,” mutters Tiger Lily, “the shadow won’t take them back if they have no mother.”

“Shadow?” Killian asks with a tilt of his head.

Tink reaches out and pats him on the head, and he wrinkles his nose. “Didn’t the shadow bring you here? Oh, Tiger Lily, they both are so cute!”

“They aren’t puppies, Tink.”

“We didn’t come that way,” Emma speaks up, “it was the black balloon.”

“Balloon?” both women cry out.

“Do you think we could - “ Tink begins.

“I think so, we have enough magic for that,” Tiger Lily finishes for her.

“You have magic?” Killian asks skeptically.

“We’re fairies!” Tink exclaims proudly.

Emma tilts her head. “Then where are your wings?”

Tink’s face falls. “We lost them and then were banished here.”

“I was the Purple Fairy,” Tiger Lily adds, pointing to her chest. Then she gestures to Tink, “She was the Green Fairy.”

“What happened?” Killian asks.

Tink shrugs. “We broke the rules.”

Tiger Lily gasps as she looks out the window to see the darkness of night beginning to abate. “Dawn is coming! We must hurry!”

The fairies rush Killian and Emma down the ladder of their tree house and down to the nearby beach. They send flashes of magic from their palms, and just as dawn breaks over the horizon, a black balloon is clutched in Tiger Lily’s fist. She offers it to them just as shouts from the jungle fill the air.

“Hurry, take it!”

Emma and Killian exchange glances, then grab onto the string at the exact same time. Immediately, they are airborne, and they watch as the fairies wave goodbye as they rush back towards their tree house. By the time the Lost Boys burst onto the beach, the black balloon is so high in the sky they look like an army of ants.

Emma still clings to Killian, but this time she isn’t trembling. They both actually look around this time, awed by the clouds, and the glittering sea below. The balloon takes them lower just as they see a ship come into view.

“I think it’s taking us to that boat,” Emma says.

“Ship,” Killian corrects her, then his heart sinks as he sees a familiar black flag, “a pirate ship,”

They swoop a bit on the wind as they draw closer, and before they have fully prepared, they crash down upon the ship’s wooden deck.

“What have we here.”

Killian and Emma are both sprawled out on their stomachs, and they look up, blinking as the black balloon once again disintegrates right above them. Silhouetted by the morning sun is a man who epitomizes every pirate cliché: feathered hat, handlebar mustache, long curly hair.

“My cabin boy just got washed overboard yesterday,” he says, rubbing his chin, “you two will do nicely.”

His presence and rough voice are so intimidating, that all Emma and Killian can do is swallow hard, their eyes growing wide. The man squats to get closer to them when he realizes they aren’t moving anytime soon.

“Don’t be frightened, me hearties. Tis a pirate’s life for you now!”

You know the lies they always told you

And the love you never knew

What’s the things they never showed you

That swallow the light from the sun inside your room

Killian finishes securing the last canon on the gun deck and looks up to see Emma dumping the captain’s chamber pot over the railing. He walks towards her, admiring her figure in her leather breeches, blouse, and leather vest. Her unruly wavy hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, but her cheeks are sun kissed, and her nose is freckled prettily. At fifteen, she’s grown into a beautiful young woman, and Killian isn’t the only one who’s noticed. He hasn’t liked the looks Captain Blackbeard has been giving her lately, and it makes him wish he hadn’t been promoted from cabin boy to powder monkey. Not much of a promotion for a sixteen-year-old, but he would rather still be at the very bottom rank and more often at Emma’s side.

She chuckles as he comes up next to her. “Are you here to assist me in this disgusting task? Or are you just rubbing it in that you’re above it now?”

He laughs with her as she lifts another chamber pot and tosses its contents into the water. It’s her last one, and she wrinkles her nose in a fetching way as she turns to wash her hands in the rain barrel.

“Emma,” Killian speaks lowly, close to her ear, “I’ve been wanting to talk with you. I’m worried. You’ve grown . . . taller.”

He scratches behind his ear and blushes, knowing he’s stumbling over his words. Emma just smiles knowingly at him, patting his arm.

“Taller? Killian, really.” She leans against the edge of the barrel, gnawing at her lower lip. “I’ve been wrapping my chest as tight as I can, but . . . I’ve noticed the crew looking at me differently anyhow.”

He wonders if he’s included in that statement. He can’t help how his thoughts towards her are changing, but he hopes at least that the gleam in his eye isn’t as uncouth as the rest of the crew. He clears his throat nervously.

“Perhaps at the next port -”

“How?” she cuts him off. “You know what Blackbeard does to deserters.”

Her eyes are wide and fearful, but she hurries away when Blackbeard shouts for her, and Killian’s heart sinks that he has no good answers.

Later, he’s heading down to the armory to check on their store of gunpowder before they make port, and just as he passes the Captain’s quarters, he hears Emma’s name and pauses.

“Why can’t we keep her for our own use, Cap’n?” asks the first mate. “Men at sea have needs, after all.”

“I can’t look at her that way,” Blackbeard snaps, “not when I still remember the lass she was. Others will be the same. Besides, Captain Silver offers good coin for a virgin. Especially one as pretty as Emma.”

“And he’ll be there when we dock at Misthaven?”

“He always is this time of year.”

Killian’s heart sinks. Captain Silver! The same man who killed his brother! He doesn’t care how dangerous it is, he and Emma have to get away. He won’t allow someone he cares about to be harmed by that man. Not again.

Anxious though he is, he waits until they are close enough to shore to make it quickly in the row boat, yet still far enough out to give them a head start. He doesn’t tell Emma until he wakes her from where she sleeps in the hammock below him. Thankfully, he’s earned her trust over all these years, and she comes with no argument. The only concern she expresses as they lower the dinghy to the water as quietly as they can is what will become of Killian if they get caught.

“My safety means nothing if tragedy comes to you,” he tells her as he clasps her hand.

Emma smiles with watery eyes and squeezes back.

They are almost to shore, and the sun is breaking when they hear shouts and turn to see Blackbeard’s ship gaining on them. They are just scrambling out of the dingy when the crew comes racing down the docks towards them. They duck into the busy streets of Misthaven, dodging the crowds just like at that carnival when they were kids. Killian’s heart is pounding, knowing they are out-numbered with only a cutlass a piece to defend themselves. They run as fast as they can, never letting go of one another’s hands.

“A free balloon for the pretty lass?”

The old, wrinkled woman appears out of nowhere, the black balloon pinched between two fingers. They both glance at one another, blinking in shock. Yet the shouts that come from the other end of the street makes the decision for them. They reach for the string at the same moment and almost instantly, they are sailing far above the town, then over the trees.

The cabin that the balloon deposits them in front of has been abandoned for quite some time, judging by the layer dust on the furniture, the weeds overtaking the gardens, and the loose hinges on the front door. But perhaps it could be a home . . .

A thousand boys could never reach you

How could I have been the one?

They manage to carve out a life for themselves in the simple cottage, even coaxing a meager crop from the rocky soil. They sell what they can at market, but never in Misthaven for fear that Blackbeard is still searching for them. There’s another village, smaller and more rustic, farther inland, but the people accept them. At least enough to buy their fruits and vegetables. Their potato crop does well enough to purchase them a goat for milk and a couple of chickens for eggs.

They tell people they are brother and sister, since they live alone together in the one room cabin. They share the one bed without ever really having a discussion about the arrangement. They’ve been together now since she was seven and he was eight. It’s only a sleeping arrangement, nothing more.

Although Killian doubts Emma knows the torture he has endured for the past year sleeping by her side. She’s sixteen now and only grows more beautiful with each passing day. There’s no denying to himself now how deeply he loves her, but he’s unsure. Unsure of her feelings, unsure of how it might change things if he speaks up. So he says nothing; does nothing.

Until one night he hears her sniffling beside him. He rolls over to see her shaking slightly. “Are you okay?” he whispers.

She rolls over, and the moonlight shining through the window illuminates the streaks of tears on her cheeks. “Why won’t you kiss me?”

He swallows, blinks, and words fail him.

“Do you not want to?”

“Oh, Emma,” he breathes, and all he can do is trace her soft cheek, wiping away her tears.

“Never mind,” she mutters, but before she can roll back over, he pulls her close and presses his lips to hers.

Except for occasional knowing smiles and heated glances, nothing much changes during the day after that. But every night, their intimacy grows. Their bed is now filled with passionate kisses, heated touches, gasps, and sighs. But Killian is hesitant to let things go too far, not when Emma is so young, when they’re both so young. He doesn’t want Emma to regret anything.

But one night, he turns from the fire to find Emma standing there nervously, her shift pooled on the floor at her feet. He’s rooted to the spot, too in awe of her body, soft in the light of the moon, the candlelight playing with her hair. She reaches her hand out to him, trembling as she lowers herself to the bed. He thinks he should probably say something as he comes closer, shedding his own clothes as he goes, but he’s left speechless. He lowers himself on top of her, relishing the way she sighs as their skin presses together. He kisses her, slowly at first because he keeps thinking that surely this is a dream, but then she responds eagerly, her fingers tracing down his spine, and the kisses become deeper, hungrier.

Later, he holds her in his arms, both of them damp with sweat, the sheets tangled up around them. She says nothing as he combs the tangles out of her hair with his fingers.

“Did I hurt you?” he finally whispers hoarsely.

Emma tilts her head up to look at him, a shy smile upon her face. “You could never hurt me.”

“But when I . . . ,“ he swallows hard as he trails off, “you cried out.”

She laughs as she scoots up so she can look him better in the face. “And you almost stopped until I told you it was okay.” She runs her fingers through his hair. “And I meant it. It was wonderful.”

Emma leans down, taking his face in her hands, and kisses him softly. He relaxes into the bed, wrapping his arms around her.

“I love you,” he tells her.

“I love you, too.”

They are so euphoric after their night’s activities, that they almost don’t notice the subtle shift towards them in town. It isn’t until they've set up their cart of goods that they notice the townspeople looking at them differently. When Rumplestiltskin, the town magistrate, approaches them with fire in his eyes, Killian shifts slightly to put himself between the man and Emma. They are in town so rarely, that they don’t know the man well, but they’ve heard enough from the villagers to know he leads with a heavy fist. Killian glances over the man’s shoulder at his son, Baelfire. Killian has also never liked the way the magistrate’s son looks at Emma.

“Do not do business with these people!” Rumplestiltskin cries, pointing an accusing finger at them. He pauses dramatically to allow a crowd to gather. “They are either liars or are consumed with deviant lust!”

A gasp ripples through the crowd, and Emma inches closer to Killian’s side.

“They claim to be brother and sister,” the magistrate continues, “yet my son saw them through their window last night engaged in either fornication or unnatural relations for a brother and sister!”

Rage wells up inside of Killian fast and hot. He glances at Emma, who has turned pale as a ghost. Baelfire gazes at the two of them with barely concealed lust, and it turns Killian’s stomach to think of what they had shared last night, something so intimate and beautiful, being turned into voyeurism for this debased young man.

“She’s not his sister, she’s his whore!” a male voice from the crowd shouts, and a hand seems to shoot out from nowhere to grab Emma by the hair. She screams as she’s dragged backwards by a burly, middle-aged man. Killian shouts and lunges at her attacker, but he’s pulled back by the other half of the growing mob. He doesn’t see Baelfire pull a dagger from his boot.

But Emma does. She screams Killian’s name, simultaneously shoving off the growing crowd around her and thrusting her arms towards the young man who is her everything: her best friend, her soul mate, her lover. She can’t lose him. And to everyone’s shock, including hers, magic bursts from her palms and hits Baelfire square in the chest. He goes flying backwards, his dagger slipping from his grip and skittering across the packed dirt.

The mob shifts from dragging Emma the whore down to the ground to backing away from her with fear etched upon their faces. “Witch!” someone cries, and soon it becomes a chant. Killian rushes to Emma’s side.

“Do you trust me?” she asks him.

He doesn’t know why she asks, but he doesn’t hesitate. “Always.”

Emma takes his hand, and before he can blink, they’re both enveloped by a cloud of magic. Then he blinks again, and they are safe in their cabin

“How did you know how to do that?”

Emma shakes her head, her eyes wide. “I - I don’t know!”

Her shaking worsens, and Killian cups her face in his hands to steady her. “You didn’t know you had magic, did you?”

She shakes her head again, her eyes growing wet with tears. “No.” She bites her lower lip, her nervous habit. “Are you afraid of me, too?”

He kisses her with all the love he can convey. “Are you kidding?” he laughs, his forehead pressed against hers. “You were bloody brilliant just then, love. Amazing. You saved my life, you know.”

She lets out a little cry and flings her arms around his neck, kissing him sloppily. He smiles against her lips as he kisses her back. But then shouts from the forest send them jumping apart. Killian grabs their only two chairs and shoves them against the front door. Through the branches of the trees, he can see the flicker of torches even though it’s the middle of the day. His heart sinks as he realizes – they intend to burn a witch today. He doesn’t know what to tell Emma, so he says nothing as she helps him shove their bed against the back door.

“They’ll just burn us both,” Emma tells him in a broken voice.

So she knows.

He pulls her close. “We’ll figure something out.”

“If only that balloon -” Emma breaks off abruptly.

“The balloon!” they both gasp.

“If the fairies could -”

“then surely you can, love,” he finishes for her.

It takes her awhile, but just as a torch flies through their front window, Emma has the string of a black balloon gripped in her fist. Just as the angry mob crashes through their back door, Killian trusts Emma completely once again, and they go flying away on their black balloon.

I saw the world spin beneath you

And scatter like ice from the spoon that was your womb

For two years, they travel this way, with Emma’s black balloons. Kingdom to kingdom, realm to realm, never staying in any one place for too long. They have adventures at times, while at others they fall into a routine of mundane domesticity. They make friends at times, while at others they are secluded in their own little bubble. But always suspicion eventually falls upon them, and they take to the skies once again. So long as they have each other, they are home. No clergy will marry the likes of them, but they vow themselves to one another all the same. In every way that counts, they are one. He is her husband, and she is his wife, whether others recognize it or not.

Today, however, there can be no black balloon. Even if Emma had the strength to conjure one, she couldn’t make it far enough way. They can hear the sounds of the mob surrounding them in the forest, but time is up. Their baby is coming.

Killian puts his arms around her, helping her walk even as she doubles over with her next contraction. He presses his lips together, willing himself to be strong for her. He’s only 19, and he’s already scared enough about being a proper father, and now he can’t even find a safe place for the child’s birth.

“I can’t go on, Killian.”

And suddenly, it appears. Through the mist, as if Killian had wished it there, stands a humble cabin. The sounds of the mob seem louder, closer, so he hurries them to the door.

“We don’t know if we can trust these people,” Emma gasps out.

“We don’t have much of a choice, love.” He prays to every deity he can think of for compassion.

The door opens before they have even reached it, and a grandfatherly looking man with a gray beard is standing in the entryway. He smiles and gestures them forward.

“Come, come, I’ve been waiting for you all day.”

Killian glances curiously at Emma, but she’s in no shape to question this sudden turn of fortune. The man ushers them in, and immediately helps Emma to the cabin’s only bed.

“You should know,” Emma pants between contractions, “that a mob’s after us. I’m a witch. Apparently.”

“First of all, the mob won’t find you here,” the man tells her calmly. “My master, when he left me to watch over this place, ensured that only those who needed assistance could find it.”

Killian idly wonders what he means by that, but he’s far more concerned with the way Emma has pulled up her knees and how hard she’s squeezing his hand.

“And you are not a witch,” the man continues as he fills a basin with boiling water from the fire, “you are filled with the strongest kind of light magic. The kind that only comes when one is the product of true love.”

Even in the midst of her labor, Emma scoffs. “My parents dropped me off at an orphanage. They had no love in them.”

“If there is one thing I recognize, it’s magic. Trust in what I say.”

“You’re a sorcerer,” Killian exclaims.

“No, but my master was.”

He washes his hands and then gathers a knife, salt, and some blankets which he sets near the bed next to the basin of water. He seems to know what he’s doing as he calmly instructs Emma through the rest of her labor. Soon, after one last push and a tremendous cry from Emma, a baby’s wail fills the air. Killian is overwhelmed as the squirming bundle is placed in his arms.

“It’s a boy,” he tells Emma as he hands their child over to her. His heart swells in his chest as he watches Emma – his wife, his love – hold their son close, tenderly stroking his tiny cheek.

“And this one will have strong light magic too,” the man tells them, “a product of your true love.”

Emma looks into Killian’s face with awe as he bends to kiss her. “I love you.”

“What will you name him?” their rescuer asks.

“What about Henry?” Emma suggests.

Killian reaches out to touch his son, and the baby clasps his finger tightly. “I think he likes it.”

The man, they come to find out, goes simply by Wart. With him, they find the steadiest home they’ve had since their youth. Henry speaks his first word, takes his first step, learns to read all in Wart’s small cabin. Emma and Killian make their home with their son in the cabin’s loft. It may not be much, but it is filled with love.

Wart, as he had once told them, had been the apprentice of a sorcerer. What became of his master he would never say, but his cabin was filled with scrolls containing the sorcerer’s prophecies. People would come to the cabin, sometimes even from far away realms, to receive guidance from these prophecies. Sometimes they would pay coin, sometimes they would pay in produce or livestock, but somehow there was always enough provision without any of them having to leave their safe haven.

One day, desperate parents knocked on the door seeking not prophecy, but a magical cure. Their daughter had been bitten by a poisonous spider. Wart, having no magic himself, was about to sadly turn them away, when Emma rushed forward,

“I may be able to help.”

Killian could tell she was nervous, but she reached her palms out towards the child anyway, her magic coming out in that bright, warm light. The black veins of poison marring the girl’s skin slowly disappeared, and color returned to her cheeks. She took a deep breath, then opened her eyes.

Killian had never been so proud. The parents were overcome with relief and gratitude. It turned out they lived not far away, and that the little girl, Violet, was about Henry’s age. After that, life in the cabin was filled with even more life, love, and happiness. And many others came to Emma for miracles.

They honestly saw no need for anything more.

And I’ll go on and I’ll lead you home

And all because I’ll become what you became to me

Everything changes on Emma’s 28th birthday. They celebrate simply, as they always do, with singing and a cake. But after Emma blows out her candle, Wart sets a scroll down before her.

“It is time for you to leave. You have a destiny to fulfill.”

“But this is our home!” Emma protests.

“Do you not want us here anymore?” ten-year-old Henry asks, sounding hurt.

“Of course I want you here,” Wart assures, embracing the boy, “if I had my way you would live here always. But . . . read the scroll, Emma.”

“The Savior’s name shall be Emma. In her 28th year, she will find her parents, Snow White and Prince Charming, and break the Dark Curse.”

Killian can tell by the way Emma furrows her brow that she doesn’t believe that the prophecy is about her. But his heart sinks as he turns to the window.

“It’s you, Emma,” Wart insists, “I’ve known since the day you first arrived. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want it hanging over you for ten years. I wanted you to have a home for once, a safe haven. I hope you aren’t angry with me.”

“It’s true, Mom,” Henry says with conviction. “Somehow I just know.”

“Killian?”

He turns from the window at the sound of Emma’s voice. She’s only grown more beautiful as the years have rushed by, more precious to him. Every day he thinks he couldn’t love her more, and then tomorrow comes. He remembers the little girl he first saw with the golden hair and he knows now why he chased after her. He was chasing her light.

“Yes, Emma, it’s true. It has to be.”

She rises from the table and goes to him. “What’s wrong?” she asks gently, cupping his face in her hands.

“I always knew, deep down, that I wasn’t worthy of you,” he whispers hoarsely. “That day, at the carnival? The black balloon was mine. It chose me, Emma. Darkness chose me, but you . . . “

Emma presses her forehead to his, her thumbs making circles on his cheeks. “I choose you, Killian. Every day. Doesn’t that matter more?”

“Emma,” Wart says from his place at the table, “conjure one of those black balloons for me.”

It’s been years since she’s done it, but after a decade of honing her magic in many other ways, she does as he asks with ease.

“Now a yellow one.”

Emma tilts her head in confusion, but humors Wart anyway. The two balloons float up to the ceiling, bouncing and spinning until their strings become entwined. Then an amazing thing happens, the two balloons meld into one; a gray balloon. It floats down, bouncing upon first Killian’s shoulder, then Emma’s. Wart reaches out and grabs its string.

“That day at the carnival, you had just lost your brother, Killian. The enchanted balloons picked up on your pain, your grief, your anger. So the black balloon chose you. They picked up on Emma’s light magic, not yet realized, but just under the surface. So the yellow balloon chose her.” Wart extends the gray balloon to both of them. “But we all have both within us. Each choice we make, we have the opportunity for good or for evil. I see before me two people who have over and over again chosen love.”

Emma reaches out and takes Killian’s hand. He smiles at her, then she reaches out for the string of the balloon.

“Does this mean we’re going on an adventure?” Henry asks, and they chuckle at his eagerness.

So they take one last trip with their black balloon. Gray this time, actually. As the three of them land gracefullly in the middle of a paved street on a dark October night, they look around in awe at this very peculiar realm. They see a man in a brown suit walking a spotted dog on a leash.

“Excuse me, sir,” Killian says, “but what’s the name of this town?”

The man smiles. “Welcome to Storybrooke.”

#cs ff #enchanted forest au #childhood friends #teen romance #angst #angst with a happy ending #fandom birthday playlist #artistic-writer #on her birthday #black balloon #goo goo dolls

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fiovske · 3 years

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I'm always baffled by the way you analyze CR episodes even though you haven't watched them. You're basing your opinions completely on hearsay? You're totally free to dunk on CR, but you could at least form your own opinions after watching it. Or, just step away? Let it go, since it brings you so much anger and resentment.

i love how you assume that my information is not from clips & reliable sources when none of my opinions have been wrong so far, for i do get context of things before i speak (you should try it sometime). you think i'm going to waste four hours of my week every week watching this white liberal show? I wasted seven hours watching the finale and it really told me all i needed to know about the terrible closure to what has been a terrible hotchpotch post-hiatus. nothing is going to change that. trying to invalidate my rightful criticism with "form ur own opinion by watching it" when these literally are. my own opinions. is not the checkmate u think it is.

if defending cr is really the hill u wanna die on, thats ur choice. i'm not gonna ask you to step away from that.

#love also how you all pretend ur on the higher ground #as if criticism of ur white faves is somehow 'anger and resentment'#I am free to dunk on cr and i will #ur tone policing will not stop me babe <3 #'step away then' why thank you i had NOT considered that at all.#as if i and along w so many other ppl who were disappointed w cr #arent allowed to talk about HOW the show disappointed us #none of this is maintagged #if u dont like this. simply leave.#'let it go walk away' yeah bipoc fans of cr have been told this forever <3 look where its led us <3 #spite makes me stronger dont pretend to know what will make me happy #if i want to step away i will. if i want to analyse cr i will as well.#just bc u feel attacked bc of ur weird parasocial relationship w ur white faves #that u want to defend them so bad #doesnt mean im not allowed to critique cr as a show. a piece of media that it is.

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fandomimaginesftw · 6 years

Text

An Old Flame (Part Three)

Summary: Y/N is a hunter. She always has been, and she knows that she always will be. Headstrong, fierce, and takes no bullshit is the best way to describe her. A case in Ohio leads her to a nest of vampires, but that’s not all. As she’s investigating, she runs into a pain from her past, the one and only Dean Winchester. The man that ruined her, left her to trust no one ever again. When Dean sees her again, he feels like he’s alive again, and he’ll do anything to get her back. Will she fall back into old habits or will she stand her ground?

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven

Pairing: SLOW BURN! Dean x Reader

Warnings: Eventual smut and violence, swearing

Word Count: 1,850

A/N: Sorry for the wait guys! I’ve been working hard on those Christmas Prompts :) Things are finally starting to pick up, so I really hope you’ll enjoy. I love writing this, honestly^-^

Forever Tags: @reigns420 @onemorefanblog @carryonmyswansong

SPN Tags: @tacklesackles @iam-a-cutiepie @mogaruke

Old Flame Tag List: @p3nny4urth0ught5 @jenspadwincest @shut-ur-face-and-get-in-the-car @emilypkuzu @happygirl62304

@impala-dreamer this is where it picks up, really. Still a little nervous to tag you ha ^^’

Your night had been filled with endless tossing and turning, your mind only one one thing. You tried your best to think about literally anything other than Dean, but your brain apparently hated you. You rolled over onto your back, looking up at the ceiling. The off white color was starting to bother you, but everything seemed to be bothering you. You really needed to focus on the nest of vampires, not someone from your past.

As you pulled yourself out of the mattress, you tried to stretch out the crick in your back. That mattress was harder than any bed you’ve ever laid on. You sighed, looking around for something to drink. There was no way you’d get water from the bathroom sink, you saw the mold that grew on the side of the faucet. You eyed the mini fridge, deciding in that split second that you could afford the $3.95 extra charge. You needed a beer anyway, you hadn’t indulged in a while.

Popping off the bottle cap brought back some memories as you walked over to the rickety table where your laptop rested. You sat in the oak chair, your foot lifting to rest up on the table. You took a swig, grimacing slightly at the taste. It wasn’t a good beer, and it definitely wasn’t worth four of your dollars. You sighed, opening up your laptop up so you could start on your research early. You just needed to get into the police files to check on the other victims.

A few minutes in to the research, you decided a little music might make it a bit more bearable. You logged in to your favorite music streamer, going to the Classic Rock station. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes slightly and let out a huff of unamusement when Led Zeppelin started to play. You shook your head, cursing any higher power that was out there for torturing you. You went back to research, starting to hum along to the song. Your mind started to wander, however, as you continued to sing and tap your foot along to the song.

The night had been filled with nothing but silence, aside from the occasional clear of the throat and beer splashing against the glass bottle. You glanced up, watching as both of the Winchester brothers fell further into the world of the internet. The case you three had been working on was just a simple Djinn, but Dean wanted to do everything possible to figure out every detail since you and Sam had decided to use you as bait. Dean was obviously against the idea, but you had made up your mind, and Dean knew better than to argue with you when you made up your mind.

Before you could look away and pretend you weren’t looking at him, Dean’s emerald eyes locked with your E/C colored ones. You blushed, smiling sheepishly at him. He hummed, leaning over to grab the bottom of your chair. He pulled you towards him, making a squeal leave your lips. You giggled as he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. You smiled down at him, starting to run your fingers through his chestnut locks. You saw Sam’s head move, most likely to see what’s going on. You looked over at the younger sibling, and he shot you a tired smile. You kissed the top of Dean’s head, then looked at Sam again.

“How about we call it a night guys? We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow and we need all the rest we can get.” Dean lifted his head, looking up at you. His eyes were glazed over with sleep deprivation and dark circles were starting to form under his eyes. You nodded, standing up and offering your hand to him. He was gonna get some sleep, whether he liked it or not. He pouted ever so slightly, and his pink lips starting to distract you. Sam nodded, also standing up. Dean the stood as well, and suddenly lifted you into his arms. A small yelp came from your throat as you held on to him. He chuckled, taking you to his room, which you two shared. Sam waved at you as you two disappeared, and you returned it before Dean walked into the room.

He let you fall onto the bed, and a giggle escaped your throat. He smiled down at you, crawling over your body. He hovered over you, his eyes scanning your face. You smiled softly, your hands lifting to caress his jawline. He leaned into your palm, his eyes closing and his body physically relaxing. You ran the pad of your thumb over the line of his cheekbone, and he opened his eyes to look at you again.

“Y/N, I really don’t like using you as bait. What if something goes wrong and I lose you? I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you…” He frowned, and so did you. He seemed so vulnerable in this moment, you didn’t really see this side of him much. You could tell he was legitimately worried, and you tried not to let it make you feel good inside. It was hard though, since he was showing how much he really cared.

“Dean, I promise that you won’t lose me, okay? You have me and my heart forever, no matter what.” You lifted your head to kiss him, but he pulled away slightly to look at you. He raised a brow, and so did you.

“Promise?” His voice was so soft, so gentle. You nodded, and he met your lips with his. You had meant it, and you knew that kiss you two just shared meant that he felt the same. It was a promise between you two, and you could feel in your heart that it would always be kept.

Your reminiscing had been cut short by a knock sounding at the door. You frowned, taking your foot off of the table and setting the beer down where your foot had been. You didn’t tell anyone where you would be, not that you had anyone to tell anyway. You went over to the bed, reaching underneath your pillow to grab your knife. You checked your back pocket for your holy water, and you could feel your pistol in your boot. You stalked towards the door, looking through the peep hole.

In that moment, you genuinely wanted to throw a tantrum like a child. Why was he here? How did he even find you? You sighed, starting to unlock the door. You weren’t exactly sure what you were gonna say, or if you would even be able to look at him, but you tried to prepare yourself anyway. As the door swung open, his eyes met yours. He was leaning against the frame of the door, and you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. You reached into your back pocket, pulling out your flask filled with holy water. You unscrewed the cap, tossing the holy water into his face, and he closed with eyes with a sigh. A very slight smile pulled at your lips as you enjoyed the annoyed look on his face.

“Nice to see you too, Y/N,” he grumbled. Hearing his deep and raspy voice after so long really messed with your brain even more. You put the flask back in your pocket, then looked up at him again.

“Can’t be too careful, you know that. You’re the one that taught me that…” You sighed, putting your hand on your hip. “What in the hell could you possibly want, Dean Winchester?” You didn’t move from in front of him, not wanting him inside whatsoever. He looked over you, marvelling at how you hadn’t changed in the slightest. He grinned to himself, looking off before locking eyes with you again.

“Sam told me not to come, but, you know me.” He cleared his throat, putting his hand in his pockets. “I actually wanted to come and talk to you about...possibly working this case with us.” You blinked, contemplating on if you should close the door in his face now or in a few seconds. You decided now would be a good time, so you swung the door. You turned back to face the table, but you heard the door hit against something. You turned and saw that Dean was now inside of your motel room. You sighed, watching as he closed the door behind him.

Now it was just the two of you, another Led Zeppelin song playing softly behind you. He didn’t dare take another step, knowing you weren’t afraid to get violent. He just held up a hand, and you stayed still. He obviously wanted to get something out, and you didn’t feel like fighting him. You crossed your arms, waiting for him to speak. He cleared his throat again, running his fingers through his hair before speaking.

“Look, I just wanted to ask you if you would be up for it. Not because I want to try and get you back or something, but because I think it would help all of us. You can’t deny that this vampire nest is more powerful than either of us has dealt with, and three is better than one or two.” He spoke, his voice shaking ever so slightly with what you could only guess was nervousness. You listened to his words, even considered them. You sat down at the table, offering him your overpriced beer. He walked over, sitting in the other chair and taking the cool bottle in his hands. He threw it back, taking a long drink. You watched as the muscles in his throat moved, working to get the liquid down his throat. You found yourself mesmerized by his adam’s apple bobbing up and down, but you quickly pulled yourself out of it. His face contorted into an expression of disgust as he set the bottle down. “I can promise you’ll get better beer, too.” A soft laugh bubbled in your throat, and Dean thought he was about to explode. You leaned your arms against the table, looking at him.

“I’ll consider it if you promise me one thing.” He nodded, wondering what it was you would want. He would admit, he was worried you’d make him promise that he would have to do something impossible, like never look at or speak to you the whole time. You looked down, then back up at him. “I need you to promise me you won’t fall in love with me. I need this to be completely professional, okay?” You felt your heart drop as his face fell, a frown on his lips. He hummed, taking another drink from the previously proclaimed disgusting beer. He stood, walking to the door. He opened it, then glanced over at you.

“That shouldn’t be too hard, seeing as how I never fell out of love with you. See you tomorrow.” He left you with that, and you weren’t exactly sure how to react to it.

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juicifeur · 7 years

Text

Paranoia (Dean x reader)

A/N: Angst. Feedback always welcome! @mcdoyle22

also, I am looking for more forever tags, so if you or any of your mutual wants to be tagged, message me :)

Word Count: 1,647

Your time was winding down much too quickly for your liking. And you just got more and more nervous with every passing minute. Your stomach leaped into your throat whenever you heard a dog howling. You shifted your weight, flinched, every time you thought about what Hell had done to your friends. You cried when you showered, because that was usually the only time you had to yourself.

Crying alone could be the worst feeling in the world. The aches in your chest and the overwhelming feeling of weakness, like you couldn’t sink any lower.

Dean and Sam had both commented on you acting as though something was wrong for the past few days but you shook it off, telling them that it was all okay on your end. It definitely wasn’t all okay, but you made it seem that way to the best of your ability.

It had been almost six months since both of the Winchester brothers had been badly injured on a hunt. They walked, more like limped, their way to the car where they both quickly fell unconscious. It was a spell that had been put on them. They were bleeding badly from their stomachs and lungs and eyes and watching them suffer was one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do.

Especially as you watched Dean.

You drove them to the nearest hospital, they went into the ER, then the ICU and were attached to multiple machines and IVs with a low chance of survival as the nurses told you. It was the first time that you actually feared something: living in a world without the Winchesters and you had a rational reason behind it.

When they woke up, you lied right to their faces. Years of hunting and pretending made you believable.

You’d been jittery every since. Flinching at every drop of a tack.

You’d known the boys for eight whole years, at first only by reputation, and been together with Dean for five of those years. He didn’t like you much at first. You poked his ears on long car trips, you sung badly, and loudly, to all his least favourite songs. He’d even once referred to you as ‘the annoying little sister he never wanted’. But after you saved his ass from a werewolf, he started to warm up to the idea of being friends.

Being friends turned into something much more after a year and a half of traveling around with the brothers. He’d realized his feelings first, which surprised him as well as Sam, and he asked you out on a date; which in Dean’s dictionary most likely meant a burger and making out in the back seat of the Impala with his hands roaming your body. How romantic.

It hadn’t turned out like that at all.

Dean Winchester had taken the time to make a reservation at a small restaurant that didn’t smell like grease and high cholesterol and he’d gone out and bought you a single red rose. At that point Sam was worried what had possessed Dean to get him to act this way, but after some convincing (and holy water) you and Dean left that current motel room for a surprisingly sweet evening.

To say that both brothers meant a lot to you was a major understatement. You would do anything for them; including sell your soul.

You knew it was stupid. But you were desperate.

“Hey, babe?” Dean snapped you out of your thoughts.

“You’ve been staring at that book for over an hour, are you okay?” He sat down across from you at one of the tables in the library and rested his hand on yours.

It was true, you were still on the same page as you had been an hour ago, your eyes absently scanning the words without even reading them. Now they looked up to the green eyes of Dean Winchester. He looked worried.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” You said, fake yawning.

“Y/N, you’ve been saying that for the past month and a half. Talk to me.”

Oh, god, how you wanted to tell him. So you could work through this together. He was too sweet on you and it made you feel absolutely horrible for lying to him. But it was better this way; it would be painful, but it was better. Your heart beat a little faster and you tried to control your breathing, you would just have to lie. Again.

“Really, Dean. I’m fine.” You smiled softly and stood up from your seat, Walking around the table to place a short kiss to his lips. He nodded, believing you as always, and you walked out of the library.

Sam and Dean were leaving for a hunt the next morning. Your last day, of all days that they could have chosen.

Sam had hugged you and told you not to burn down the bunker. Dean hugged you, kissed you sweetly and told you to be safe.

“I love you, Y/N.” He mumbled when your head was tucked under his chin. His fingers ran through your hair softly.

You didn’t say it back. You knew he loved you and he knew that you loved him; but you couldn’t say it. It would hurt too much.

“Come back in one piece for me, okay Winchester?” You looked up at him, patting his cheek gently. He gave you that adorable, albeit goofy grin of his and he kissed your forehead. It was one of the many things you’d miss.

“Will do, baby.” He smiled and squeezed your hand one last time before getting into the driver’s seat beside Sam and pulling away from the bunker’s front door.

You watched as the Impala rolled away onto the main road and waited until it was out of sight before you went back inside, where you realized you were crying.

You spent a while cleaning your room, making it look like you’d never lived there at all. Some of the things you found under the bed and in small boxes made your head swim in memories, good and bad. One picture of the brothers, Castiel and yourself that Bobby singer had taken, you slid into your pocket.

You wrote a note and left it on Dean’s pillow. You told him how sorry you were, to look out for Sammy, and most importantly not to try and get you out. You knew they would try. You went to his dresser and pulled out one of his flannels, slipping it over your shoulders. It smelled like him.

You found a bottle of whiskey and sat down at one of the tables in the library, pouring yourself a glass; then another, and another, until your mind started to numb, along with your fingers. Drinking had always helped numb the pain for a while, but it always came back in the form of a hangover. Luckily, this time, you wouldn’t be around for that.

The bunker was eerie when you were by yourself. No classic rock playing in the distance, no fingers tapping on a keyboard, just silence and the ticking of the clock that seemed to get louder and louder every breath you took.

It was nearly dark when you weakly climbed the stairs to get to the front door. It was heavy, but you got it open. The cool air that rushed through the archway went straight through you, making you shiver, but it wasn’t going to stop you from getting outside. You weren’t going to make another mess for the boys to clean up, and you weren’t going to use up their goofer dust just to buy yourself more time. If your time was up, then your time was up.

Six months wasn’t a lot of time, considering that ten years was the usual minimum. One year would have been plenty for you, but unfortunately your crossroads dealer hadn’t given you the terms and conditions.

You walked down the road a bit before stopping at the turn around and sitting. The ground was cold, and you felt tears building in your eyes as you looked up at the sky, the clouds passing. You weren’t going to put up a fight. If Dean had been the one in your shoes, he would have told himself to go out guns blazing.

But you? You wanted to leave this earth knowing that you did all you could. Fighting would just make it worse, and this way it would hopefully be quicker. You gripped your gun in your fist and took a deep, shaky breath as more tears started to fall.

The howling started a few minutes later and your heart rate climbed higher and higher as the demonic sounds got closer. The invisible animals snarled and growled behind you and your knuckles went white as you held onto your gun, lifting it slowly to your temple.

Closer and closer the hounds got. The sound of their claws hitting the dirt road as they approached made you tremble with anxiety. Your stomach twisted into painful knots and sweat started gathering in your palms and on the back of your neck.

Tears streamed down your cheeks and finally you felt the warm breath of a Hellhound on your back. Your breath hitched in your throat and you heard two other hounds come up on the flank of the first. They snarled and circled you, closing you in to your impending demise. Crowley clearly didn’t teach them not to play with their food.

The sun had just started setting, sending the most beautiful colours across the clouds. You suddenly remembered coming out here with Dean to watch the sunset and a sad smile parted your lips. Peace surrounded you like a blanket and you only wished you could see Dean one last time.

You pulled the trigger; you heard the bang, but then everything went black.

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