#Another dumb wide awake at 3 post

[teaboot]

You ever catch a normcore conservative traditional family values type person frothing at the mouth at something benign but like. So obviously personally affected by whatever xyz thing *is* that you just. Know. That they'd be so much healthier if they just handled their repressed fetish like an adult

[sexlapis]

✧. ┊  5 TIMES YOU SAT ON NANAMI’S LAP

── .✦ nanami kento x gn!reader

s4w, fluff, cuddling, teasing, petnames, hand feeding, ooc nanami, sitting on nanami’s lap

⤷ nanami’s lap is your favourite seat. luckily for you, he is fine with being your…chair.

based off this post

a/n: #needthat #wantthat #sexyman #hotguy

[_____] = your name

masterlists

*

1 - NAP TIME

The rain droplets pelleting on the living room windows is what wakes you up, along with the deep chuckle of thunder that follows shortly afterwards.

One second it was all sunny with bright skies and now, it is dim and dark, and the only light in the room emanates from the television.

You do not remember putting this show on. You don’t remember falling asleep on the couch, either.

“Oh, look who’s awake.”

You sit up and there Nanami is, sitting opposite you on the couch, in his comfortable loungewear.

“Hey, I was watching that…” You mumble tiredly. A yawn escapes you. You rub your eyes.

“You were asleep when I came back, you know.”

“Yeah but…” you trail off. “When did you even come back?”

“An hour ago. I was excited to get my ‘welcome home’ kiss but instead, here you were; fast asleep and snoring like a bear.”

“I do not snore like a bear!”

Nanami grins and rests his back on the couch. “Don’t I get my kiss now?”

“…You called me a bear.”

“No, I said you sounded-“”

“Yeah, whatever, that’s the same thing.”

“Well, not r-“”

He’s interrupted by your unexpected crawl across the couch and sitting in his lap, covering the both of you with a blanket.

You rest your head on his shoulder.

“Do i still get my kiss-“”

“Oh shut up.”

2 - OFFICE HOURS

A knock on his door shocks Nanami out of his focus. “Come in.”

His office door opens and you appear, wearing your baggy pyjamas and dragging a blanket across the floor.

“_____…I’ve told you that you don’t need to knock. You’re the only other person who lives here.”

“Yeah, but it seems rude to just barge in so…” you waddle towards his desk where he sits, papers scattered all over his desk, “What are you doing?”

“Just some paperwork. Nothing interesting.”

“Yes, I know that part.” You respond to his last two words. “There’s a calculator…”

He lets out an amused huff. “What brings you here then?”

You shrug. “‘M bored…wanted to see what you were doing.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think my paperwork will entertain you very much, baby.”

“Well…” You start. “I’m not exactly here for the paperwork…”

You’re now stood right beside Nanami and you peek at his empty lap.

Nanami notices. Nanami sighs.

He tucks out of his desk, just enough for his lap to be shown, and he only has to pat his thighs twice before your hopping right into it.

“Comfortable?” You shuffle in his lap, looking for the right position. It’s found, and you lean back to rest your back against his wide chest, blanket covering you legs.

“Yeah, I’m comfy.”

Nanami kisses your temple, and goes back to completing his work, which lulls you to sleep due to how absolutely boring it is.

3 - OVERTIME

Nanami heard keys fiddling with the door while he is on his laptop in the kitchen. He hears a loud, annoyed groan.

Must have been a long day for you.

Shoes are thrown onto the floor, along with your bag and your coat is flung onto the rack.

You trod to the doorway of the living room and Nanami’s sees how tired and disheveled you look.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You only respond with a grumble.

“Hard day?”

Another grumble from you.

“Do you want to tell me all about it?”

A jumpy grumble clambers out of your mouth as you dash over to him and plop down on his inviting lap.

“Ugh, Kenny…these people…”

He rubs circles on you back, gently coaxing the complaints out of you.

“They’re so…they’re just so stupid.”

Nanami can’t help but chuckle at your bluntness and your genuine sadness at your coworkers’s stupidity.

��Seriously, they are! And don’t even get me started on that damn boss.”

So Nanami listens to you rant about your dumb coworkers while he just relishes in having you sit in his lap.

4 - GATHERINGS

On the rare occasion that you and Nanami organise a friend and family gathering, this time in the form of a barbecue, it is a success.

More people than you were both expecting showed up and your backyard was filled with music, friends, family members, chatter, kids running around and the smell of mouth-watering, flavourful meat.

The gathering lasts from noon until late evening, at which most people have left and the only ones who still lingered were close friends.

“Kento.” You walked up to where he sat on the outdoor couch, speaking to one of his work colleagues whose name you have forgotten. Something beginning with a ‘H’, you think?

“Hey, sweetheart.” He pauses his conversation to talk to you. “Are you tired?”

You were tired. You had been preparing the food, offering the food, playing with the kids, speaking to guests and now you feel the weight of all your hard work.

“I did not expect that many people to show up…”

“No, me neither. You did a great job, baby.” He huffs with a shake of his head. He then spreads his legs, more than they already are. “Do you want to rest?”

You are in in lap before he even finishes his sentence. Seriously, he does not finish his sentence.

He smiles at your urgency, admiring how cute you look curled up in his lap, your cheek squished up against his chest.

He takes a knitted blanket and throws it over your body, protecting you from the slight chill in the night air.

Nanami continues to speak to his friend, quieter now that you’re here, and caresses the back of your neck.

5 - BREAKFAST

“Kento, I’m- what’s all this?”

After spending a short time searching for Nanami, you find him outside in your colourful, shared garden. He sits on the garden chair, and on the medium-sized round table is a well prepared, delectable breakfast.

“Hm? Oh. This is breakfast.”

“Breakfast? But Kenny, I-“” You look down at your phone, checking the time, “I have to get to work-“”

“Call in late.”

You frown. “But-“”

“It’s such a nice morning, isn’t it?” He looks to the sky, taking a sip of his tea before looking at you. “Spend it with me.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

It was warm outside with beams of sunlight peaking through the gaps of the blooming blossom tree Nanami is stationed under. A gentle breeze curled through the air, the harmonic birdsong twinkled in your ears and the aroma of sweet-scented pastries wafted under your nose.

It did not take much to convince you.

“Okay. I’ll stay, but remind me to leave in thirty minutes.”

Nanami exhales and smiles, all soft and tender. “I’m glad. Come here, take a seat.”

Your stomach rumbles as you walk to sit in the garden chair opposite Nanami. He stops you.

“Where are you going?”

“Uhm…to sit down?”

“Oh, no, no…come sit on Kento’s lap, sweetheart. I want you to try this danish pastry,” he breaks off a piece so you can have some, “it’s my mother’s recipe.”

Ignoring your heart skipping a beat at how he referred to himself, you sit on his thigh, and he wraps an arm around your hip. He holds the piece of pastry to your mouth.

“Try a piece.”

You open your mouth and allow him to place it on you tongue, you lips briefly touching his fingertips. You laugh a little, flustered as you chew on the sweet treat. He licks his fingertip, the same one your lips touched.

“Do you like it?”

“Hmm! It’s very sweet!” You are glad you said yes to this. Work could handle you being a little late.

“Good.” Nanami shuffles forward in his chair, bringing you closer to the table of food. He kisses your shoulder and runs his hands up and down your waist. “Come on, eat up. You have a long day ahead of you.”

Nanami did not remind you to leave in those thirty minutes.

*

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

[mcsacaria-blog]

Sorrow P3

Authors note: idk where this is going btw I have not story in mind this is just improvised. Also part 3-4 were supposed to be one big chapter but tumblrs dumb and it won’t let me post it all in one.

Warnings: kidnapping, OC Dabi lol I’m not good at writing for him, Yandere-like content, stalking, blood, dingy warehouse, fire, needles, swearing

The next day I’m walking back to my hotel and I smell cider and ash. I pause and mentally pray, hoping Bakugou hasn’t found me. It’s been 3 months of silence..

I inhale once more and settle down after I realize there’s no lingering scent of burnt sugar and caramel following behind the smoke. However as I continue walking, I now notice the smoke is coming from the hotel I’m staying at.

I rush the rest of the way there until I’m standing in front of the smoking building. I catch a glimpse of black spikey hair and.. a trench coat of sorts the suspect turns around and through the smoke I make out piercing vibrant blue eyes that match the vibrant flames. My eyes widen and my realization of who I’m looking at hits me similar to the metal bat that’s making contact with my head-.

That day when the agency got targeted by the League of villains.. There was smoke everywhere; they had bombed a quarter of the place while Bakugou was on a mission in another state. I was in the control room when it happened. I was working on helping Bakugou detonate a bomb, ironically..I didn’t remember much after that. When I finally came to and the smoke started to clear I caught a glimpse of him exactly like I did at the hotel. He had a wicked grin when he noticed I was awake.. I thought I heard him say “just wait”. It was such a short encounter it slipped my mind so easily I forgot the memory even existed until I saw his face again... I wake up with a sharp migraine as my eyes adjust. I notice blood dripping from somewhere.. I try to move and get this uncomfortable pain under my skin. As my eyes adjust I notice I’m in a dingy warehouse. It smells of mildew and dust. I turn my head and notice needles under my skin and blood dripping from where they are seethed into my skin. There's a single lamp swaying from the ceiling due to the cold draft. I’m bound to a wooden chair. There's a machine next to me huffing out air every few seconds. There are tubes that are connecting the machine to the needles under my skin… it’s pumping my blood.. It's silent otherwise until I hear a dry chuckle come from somewhere in the warehouse. Suddenly the man I saw before appears under the dim lighting. He smiles wickedly and sighs in what seems like satisfaction. “You’re finally awake” he says, still smiling, the strange staples? He has on his face straining to hold together. I don’t speak, instead I continue to stare at him as my forgotten memories come back to me. The patchy man hums as he gets closer to me. “I’ve been waiting for this moment you know.. the very second I would be able to catch you. I’ve been watching you for a while now” He pulls a chair over, placing it close to me he turns it backwards and sits. He just stares at me, the crevices of patchy skin starting to bleed from his wide smile. He sighs “Sorry about the needles, love. But I had to make sure you wouldn’t be going anywhere and Toga went a bit overboard when I said she could help…” He gets up and picks up a set of handcuffs from a tool box. “Ah, these should do the trick” he presses a button and they open, a bright blue light illuminates from them. He strolls over behind me to my rope tied wrist and places them on me. I can feel his breath against my neck. “These are quirk canceling cuffs… they also double as debinators so I suggest you try not to struggle too much or you’ll die.” He says ending the sentence with a chronically deceitful laugh. He starts to pull the needles from my skin and turns the machine off. “Why am I here?” I ask him calmly “Oh! She does speak!” He says sarcastically. “To be honest I was expecting you to be shitting your pants by now but I guess you’re a lot more level headed than you seem..” He says finally pulling the last needle from under my skin and sitting back in his chair “Well in any case I’ll tell you why I took you since there’s no sense in hiding it. I've been.. waiting for you. Ever since we first met..” He smiles darkly again and sighs. “What a glorious moment it was, don’t you agree?” “Do you remember what I told you that day? He asks rhetorically. When I noticed you leaving town I got a bit worried..but I was relieved to find you and even more relieved to see it seems like you’ve dumped that boom boom prick when I caught sight of you over here.. I was curious so I took you to ask, why?” He just looks at me like he just asked me what my favorite color is. “Oh c’mon.. you can tell me, sweets. Did that asshole hurt you?” “That’s not your business” I respond shortly. “So he did then?” He sucks his teeth. “Douche” he says looking off to the side at nothing in particular with an angry expression. His face shifts to a blank look and he sighs. “Well.. you’re with me now so we don’t have to worry about that shithead getting in our way anymore right, doll?”

[kira-fluff]

please please PLEASE may we have a part two to the 'only one bed' piece you posted 🥺🥺 your writing is INCREDIBLE and I loved it so much 🥺🥺🥺 if u decide to do a part two then thank u so much in advance,, hope u have a good day 🥺

a/n: you asked for it (some others did too but this anon was so adorable so I’m replying to this one) so I’m gon’ give it to u <3 also, THANK YOU I am being 1000% honest that your comments seriously brought me to tears I was SO happy you all loved it. when I say pt.2, I kind of assume that it’s with the same characters (since no one specified others) so that’s what I’m gonna do! 

Context provided, don’t worry babes 

WARNINGS: sexual harassment, intoxication, extremely heavily suggestive (it gets pretty spicy)

Also contains spoilers from part 1 but like why would you even read part 2 if you haven’t read part 1? Get outta here and read it!! (Why is this even a warning? I don’t know don’t question my methods) 

- 

“There’s only one bed” [PT.2] PT.1

Saeyoung 

You awoke to a sleeping Saeyoung, his toned arms enveloping your small body in a hug. Shamelessly, you laid still for a few moments longer.

When you’d noticed him stirring awake, you quickly shut your eyes once more, trying to conceal your growing smile 

Saeyoung blinked a few times before registering at last where he was 

He needed a little more time to register why you are in his arms 

Pretending to be asleep again, you nuzzled further into his chest, letting out a soft groan 

Saeyoung’s mind flew to DANGER MODE 

He felt kinda guilty holding you in his arms because let’s face it there’s no way he isn’t enjoying this 

He was so stunned that, for once, he was at a loss for words (shocking, I know) 

Blinking out of his stupor, he murmured, “Y/N?” 

His morning voice was... nice. 

You pretended to “wake up”, fake yawning before saying, “Yes, Saeyoung?”, subtly batting your eyes a little 

(It wasn’t subtle) 

But since Saeyoung is an actual fucking moron, he can’t tell the difference 

Play it cool, Seven. She can’t know that you know she was doing this all night and you didn’t do anything. 

“Wow”, Saeyoung choked out a laugh, “I didn’t know you liked me this much.” 

You look down, in between the two of you before slowly making eye contact with him again, smirking in disbelief, “I could say the same to you.” 

A slow blush crept up his face at the innuendo 

But he was NOT about to lose 

Saeyoung Choi is NOT a loser 

“Oh, yeah? Well, I wasn’t the one screaming my name last night.” 

You gasped, “Screaming?! I didn’t scream -- I would’ve remembered a dream like tha-- Oh!” You quickly covered your mouth, already feeling regret seeping into every bone of your body.

Saeyoung openly chuckled, looking at you with a sort of darkness in his eyes 

“You’re more dangerous than this whole mission.”

You were still out of sorts, failing to come up with a comeback besides a quiet, “I wasn’t screaming.”

A shit eating grin replaced the cool smirk on Saeyoung’s face 

“I win.” 

“Eat a dick, Seven.” 

“Sorry, I think I’m more attracted to the one who was moaning out, ‘Oooh, Saeyoung~~~’“ 

You threw a pillow straight in his face, muttering a “shut up”, blushing profusely 

Ever the competitive fucker, Saeyoung proclaims an all out pillow fight

It is WAR 

Throwing pillow after pillow at each other in between giggles and taunts and jeers 

“Take no prisoners!” you shouted, feeling unbeatable

Until Saeyoung grabbed your ass, pulling you down with him, earning a yelp from you 

“What the fuck, Sev’?! You cheater!!” 

“I don’t know, my hand’s a lot more comfortable here!” 

You scoffed, “Oh, YOU! YOU are gonna GET IT!” 

Saeyoung threw back his head in laughter but abruptly stopped when you grabbed his face with both your hands, and forcefully kissed him 

He let out a “MMPH!”, eyes wide 

Before, of course, kissing you back with equal force 

Gasping for air at last, you spoke in between breaths, “I......win..”

“Actually, darling, I think I just did.”

Noticing your loss for words, he smirked before asking, “So.... what’s my prize?” 

You didn’t have to be asked twice, “I think I have something in mind...”

His eyes met your own before slowly scanning your body, then snapping back to your eyes once more 

You bit your lip 

“I know you’ll lose at least one thing tonight.” 

“Bold of you to assume--” 

“Just shut up and kiss me again.” 

Wish granted ;) 

Yoosung 

Yoosung glanced away, taking a deep breath before saying, “Yeah, yeah I did. I really like you.” You couldn’t hold back the big ol’ smile that took over your face as you proudly declared, “Me too!!” Right when Yoosung was going to go in for a kiss, he saw his auntie suddenly right next to the both of you

“Oh my GOD when did you get here?!”

She smirked, “My question first, dearie, what did you two like?” Neither of you answered, your cheeks growing red

“You know, the first time your uncle did it with me I felt the same way. Like, what a man! Must run in the fam--” 

“OKAY! THANK YOU FOR THAT AUNTIE BUT BREAKFAST IS CALLING MY NAME MM SMELLS GOOD SEE YOU LATER.” 

Your blush didn’t leave you as you smeared strawberry cream cheese on your toasted bagel. This trip was going to be very VERY difficult. Thank God there was alcohol. And Yoosung. And probably dogs. And Yoosung. Yeah. Gotta love relatives.

Following this stunning confession, you felt dumb because, well, you still didn’t know where you really stood with Yoosung 

So when night came, you were ready to go to a party 

Putting on your earrings and making sure your clothes were laid properly in place, you stepped out of the resort room to a waiting Yoosung 

“H-hey, thanks for waiting for me,” You nervously tucked a stray hair behind your ear. 

Yoosung avoided eye contact, opting for a stiff nod 

You gazed deeper into the side of his head, feeling hurt. 

But... you decided not to say anything. 

Walking together to the reserved room the resort had made in preparation for Yoosung’s uncle was awkward, not a single word spoken between the two of you 

When you arrived, Yoosung’s eccentric uncle immediately shouted, “’Sung ‘Sung! Get over ‘ere! We’re gonna have a part-ay!!” 

You suddenly understood why Chaewon was the way he was 

and why Yoosung’s parents forced him to go on this trip instead of themselves 

Since you didn’t know his name, you opted for your nickname -- Uncle Alcohol 

Cuz he had a LOT of it 

In number, and in the amount he shoved down his throat at any given time

Seriously, how is this guy already drunk?!

You watched as Uncle Alcohol shoved a sloppy arm around Yoosung, not so quietly shouting something in his ear above the blaring music 

You were too far away to hear, thank goodness, but you took note of the way Yoosung immediately blushed and shook his head fervently, his hands held in front of his chest 

Before you could take in the atmosphere further, you felt a shiver down your back

Immediately turning around you saw the oh-so-famous Chaewon 

“Heeeyyyyyyy babbeeheehe...... Wannnaaa..... sliiidee in my room tonighhht?” Laughing in a way what made you cringe and your ears numb, you replied, “No thanks, bud. You should probably get some water.” 

“Nooo I want youuuu” Grabbing your boob in his hand, he laughed again, saying, “Nice” 

Oh my god.. where the fuck is Yoosung?? 

You quickly slapped away his hand, shouting, “Stay the hell away from me asshole! Try anything else again, and I won’t give a shit that you’re drunk or Yoosung’s family, I will call the cops on you!” 

He acted as if he didn’t hear you, but must’ve gotten the message because he sauntered over to another group of girls 

Aren’t those his cousins? What the fuck is WRONG with that guy?! 

The loud smack and curses answered the question. You didn’t attempt to help when you saw them proceed to beat the absolute shit out of him, blood and all. 

What you needed was a drink. Something really, really strong. 

You walked over to the resort bar tender

Something about your face must’ve given it all away because he began with a “Rough night, huh?” 

“Do not even fucking ask me about it. God, please, I’m sorry that was rude. I just need something strong... just give me three fingers of rye.” You waved your hand nonchalantly, sitting at a bar stool. 

“Are you sure, lady? You don’t look the type to handle that kinda liquor..”

“That’s kind of the point.”

He sighed, “Look... I’m not supposed to condone you getting completely shit-faced.. but you look like you need it tonight. I’ll make something a little easier down the throat, okay?” 

You nodded, exasperated. 

You didn’t know what it was, but it did the trick. It’s fruity taste easily passed down your throat, leaving you feeling lighter and more at peace. 

“’nother one.” 

He obliged, pouring another glass for you. 

Four drinks in and your world was already unbelievably wobbly. 

You were seeing double, looking at the bartender’s second form 

You laughed, it all seemed to funny 

Standing up, you stumbled over to the dance floor, grabbing one of Uncle A’s craft beers. 

Dancing was fun for a few minutes, grateful no one had bothered you. 

But you sat down, tears suddenly welling in your eyes 

You were alone. 

Yoosung. 

Your mood brightened just by remembering his name

Giggling, you called out, “Yoosuuungg~~~” repeatedly around the room 

One of the cousins heard your call, laughing because everything was funny, before grabbing Yoosung’s arm and shouting what they’d just heard 

Yoosung quickly glanced over at you, brows furrowed. They softened a little upon seeing your drunken state 

He’d had a beer or two, but the good feeling got old quickly and he sobered up by the time he’d noticed his cousins acting like complete fools 

Upon seeing him, your smile grew to a big, childish grin 

“Hiiii Yoosuuunggg...” 

“Jeez, Y/n, how much did you drink?” 

You giggled, playfully sticking out your tongue, “not sure~ a few.. probably..?” you laughed again, winking at him 

“Hey, let’s get you some water, yeah? On second thought.. we gotta get outta here. I’ll carry you to our room.” 

Your eyes shamelessly stared at his lips, not listening to a word he was saying 

“Yoosunngg~~ I want you to fuck meeee” 

Yoosung held the bridge of his nose in between his fingers, “L-let’s just go.” 

Putting your arm over his shoulder, he carried most of your weight. 

“Yoosuuung I want to have your babiess~~” 

Yoosung blushed and looked down, continuing to walk, “You’re way too drunk.” 

“Yoosunggieee I want to know what it feels like to have your d--” 

He quickly shushed you, looking around for other observers

He basically ran to your resort room from there

Taking a long sigh as he finally had got you in the room, he wiped some sweat off his face 

Just when he’d gotten up to get a water bottle for you, he heard retching noises

Before he could stop you, you upchucked all over yourself and some of the cheap resort carpeting 

Groaning in physical and emotional pain, Yoosung muttered a quiet, “why me” 

Before putting his arms under your arm pits and dragging you to the bathroom 

He spent a good 10 minutes just trying to get the stupid shower to turn on because of course at any other place than your own house it’s never easy 

Then, after getting the temperature just right, he forced you to down at least half of the water bottle 

“Are you able to take off your clothes by yourself, Y/n?” 

You giggled back, shaking your head 

“Liar.” 

“Help me take ‘em off pweaseee” 

“No!” 

You started tearing up again, your lip wobbling 

“You know I can’t do that sweetie, you’re drunk.”

“No ‘m not.” 

“Yeah, you are.” 

You looked up at him before sighing and lifting up your shirt, fully exposing half of your naked body to him 

He screamed like a little girl, running and slamming the door behind him 

You pouted, “That’s no fun.” 

After getting out of your clothes, you devised another poorly thought through plan

“Yoosunngggieee I need help washing myselffff” 

“Um.. okay, lemme go see if I can get a hold of someone...”

“I want it to be you. I want it to be you who sees me like this. I want it to be you. Only you.” 

“S-stop..” He said through the door. 

“Please?” 

Sighing, Yoosung knew there was no one who wasn’t drunk or available to help. 

He did what any good guy would do. He proceeded to blind fold himself, opting for reaching his hands out to guess and where things were. 

You laughed, “’Sunggiee you know you’re still gunna be touchin’ me” 

“I’m not going to.”

“You said you’d help me!” 

“Yeah, getting shampoo or something like that!” 

“How ya gunna do that with somethin’ over your eyes?” 

“I didn’t think it through that far.” 

You sighed, conceding and attempting to wash yourself (which ended pretty badly) but, keeping his word, he managed to assist you the best he could without touching you. 

He pitied the hangover you’d have... and the regret. 

 At last carrying you to bed after getting you another drink of water, he began cleaning the putrid stain you’d left on the carpet. 

It was about 5AM when he’d finished, finally crawling into bed. 

He thought about the way it felt last night compared to now

and he blamed himself. 

He was the one that made you get so drunk you essentially passed out 

Looking at you again, he sighed. 

Tugging you close into his arms, he whispered a soft, “I’m sorry.” 

Your subconscious must’ve heard him because you said in your sleep, “’s ok.” 

Jumin 

And suddenly your faces weren’t so far apart. And you couldn’t help but slowly close your eyes. Jumin was confused. He can be a bit of a pea brain, so he of course said, “I’m sure you’re very tired.” He shut off the light, reaching over you. You held back the big frown you’d gotten when you realized he’d rejected you. Unbeknownst to you that it took everything in him, from the moment he’d saw you in the jet cabin, not to scoop you up in his arms and make out with you the whole way there.

You were awoken by birds chirping outside the massive estate window

You made eye contact with an already staring, wide-eyed Jumin 

Upon realizing you’d woken up, he averted his gaze saying, “Breakfast -- soon.” 

You missed the crimson color of his face, instead getting up and stretching (like you didn’t learn your lesson last time)

Then, you made your way over to the fresh coffee that had been delivered to your room minutes before

Adding a shit load of cream and a dash of sugar, you turned to see Jumin staring at you. Again. 

You breathed out a laugh, “What are you looking at?” 

Jumin’s brows knit together for a split second before he again looked away, his soft blush never fading, “It’s hard not to.” 

“Look at wha--” Your eyes grew wide in realization, looking down at the lingerie hardly covering your skin, Jumin’s shirt no where to be seen.  

You screamed, making a poor attempt to cover yourself shouting, “Oh my god I’m so sorry I forgot!!” 

Again, Jumin found his gaze resting on your body, stifling a groan. 

He at last spoke, his deep voice reverberating throughout the room, “You... you’re making this all.. so much more ....difficult.” 

You then grew defensive, “Made what difficult? Ogling at me without staying anything?!” 

His eyes glowered with something you couldn’t quite place. “That’s not what I meant” 

He walked slowly toward you, causing you to take steps backward 

He’d backed you up against the wall, letting out a deep breath through his nose

With glittering eyes, he grabbed your chin with his fingers, forcing you to look up at him instead of the ground 

“You’re doing on purpose, aren’t you?” 

You gulped in anticipation, “D-doing what?” 

Jumin raked his eyes down your body then looked back up at you with a sarcastic expression that said, “really?” 

“N-no! I didn’t have a choice!!” 

“Your clothes would’ve been dry hours ago.. if it really bothered you--”

“Well I was really tired from the jet ride and putting up with you!” 

Jumin looked surprised for a moment before grinning sardonically, “Putting up with me? Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to control myself when you’re constantly grabbing me, touching me, everything!” 

“I didn’t do all that on purpose!” Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true, but you weren’t about to admit that to him when he was being such a dick.

He laughed dryly, “Yeah, okay. All I’m saying is that I don’t find it very funny.” 

“You think that you’re just some big joke to me?!” 

“What other explanation is there?” 

You were practically hysterical in your laughter saying, “You’re unbelievable.” 

“Oh yeah?” he challenged. 

“Yeah,” you glared back at him, your faces inches apart. 

Before Jumin could realize what he was doing, he pulled your hips flush against his own, crashing his lips harshly on yours. 

Letting out moans of both desperation and anger, your eyebrows furrowed as you deepened the kiss, gasping when Jumin slid his tongue so far into your mouth you swore you felt it going down your throat. 

After what felt like hours, you parted for oxygen, both breathing heavily, before going in for another long, simmering kiss

You felt Jumin smirk against your mouth causing you to lightly smack his chest, hating that he knew he’d gotten a rise out of you. 

He grabbed your wrist against his chest, slowly guiding it to his first button of his night shirt. 

You made quick work of removing all the fastenings, nodding and obeying him when he commanded, “Jump”

Your legs tied round his waist, you continued to make out, pulling at the waistband of his pants. 

Jumin moaned into your mouth before parting to say, “You will be the death of me, little spitfire.” 

Let’s just say the whole fiance thing might not be a lie anymore. 

Zen 

Zen wanted to say something smooth like “I’ve always wanted to do that.” But instead he said “I’ve always wanted to do you.” He mentally smacked his head, blaming the lack of oxygen for his stupidity. But you smirked up at him coyly, replying, “Then why don’t you?” Um, yeah, rip your hotel neighbor he will literally hate both of you so much.

You awoke you Zen rubbing his thumb on your arm, basking in the morning light 

He groggily said, “’mornin’ babe.” 

“I’m ‘babe’ now?”

“What else am I supposed to call my beautiful girlfriend?” 

You leaned up and kissed him softly, smiling. 

“I love you, Zen. So much.” 

“I love you, too, Y/n. If you didn’t already get that from when we...” 

You laughed shyly, “yeah..” 

“I know I skipped a few steps, but I have never been happier and more sure of anything in my life.” 

You looked up at him, peacefully grinning. 

“Hey, let’s get married.” 

Zen choked on his spit, “R-right now?!” 

You giggled, “Not right now, but soon. I dunno, we’ve been friends for, like, forever. Now that we know we like each other it seems like the next step.” 

Zen looked at you, searching your face to determine whether you were serious or not. 

Detecting that you weren’t joking he laughed airily saying, “Sure. Whatever you want princess.” 

He kissed the top of your head, whispering, “You’re so beautiful, ya know that?” 

Sighing comfortably, you nodded, falling back into sleep. 

“H-hey! Wake up!!” Zen shouted, giving up and just cuddling up to you instead, stroking your hair gently. 

The concert wasn’t until late that night -- he had time to spare. 

....Even if he didn’t, he’d make time for you.  - 3 months later

In classic Zen and Y/n style, you’d eloped shortly after the tour ended. 

“Hey, Y/n? Have you seen my grey t-shirt?” 

You looked up from your laptop, “Mhm, it’s in the dryer.” 

He sighed, “Thanks babe”, before making his way down to the mudroom where your laundry was kept 

He sifted through the hot laundry in the dryer, not seeing his shirt anywhere, when he hard a crash. 

“Y/N?!” 

He rushed out to the living room, glancing from the smashed coffee mug on the ground, to you. 

“Y/N?! Are you okay?!!!” 

You clutched your stomach in anguish, beads of sweat forming at your brow, “Y-yeah.. my stomach hurts so bad ‘s all.”

Zen was having NONE of that

He rushed you to the Emergency Room, holding your hand the entire time. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Princess, I promise.” You nodded, before losing consciousness - 

you awoke to a depressing hospital room, meeting Zen’s worried eyes. 

“How long was I out..?” 

“For a few minutes.” 

You sighed in relief, feeling a lot better than you were when you were rushed to the ER. 

All of a sudden, a doctor entered the room looking stern. 

“I wanted to discuss the diagnosis with the two of you when you were both physically present.” 

You blanched, looking at Zen with fear etched in your eyes. 

Zen held your hand tighter, before saying, “What’s the problem?” 

The doctor looked in between the two of you before letting out a little laugh, “There’s nothing wrong, actually.” 

You both looked confused, Zen proudly saying, “Then why’d you look all doom and gloom when you came in here?!” 

The doctor roared with laughter saying, “Eh, I get a kick out of the faces you guys make. Ah, now to the diagnosis.” 

“There’s still a diagnosis?!” 

You shushed Zen, nodding at the doctor. 

He took a breath before saying, “Miss Y/N Hyeon, you’re pregnant.” 

Both your eyes grew wide, mouths slacked

“O-oh, oh my gosh!!” 

Zen enveloped you in a big hug, congratulating you (and also hiding his tears) 

This man could not hold back the proud grin he sported for MONTHS

-

I simp for this prompt so if someone asked, it’s not like I could say no to writing it for more characters.......right? lol Also, I came to a realization that I made that a fanfic rather than a headcanon.. so oh well, right? 

[mythiccheroacademia]

The whole time traveling children has me feelin some type of way tbh. Imagine Mirio, Kaminari, and Tamaki walking into their respective rooms and there are just small children vibing. Mirio with his daughter, Kaminari with a daughter and Tamaki with a son. 😭

as i said, parent!bnha is SUPERIOR

A/N: So, instead of making these separate asks, I’m just going to make it one giant post. I thought it would be easier that way. Probably the only post that’ll have more than three characters lol

Warnings: none

Kaminari Denki:

when kaminari walked into his room, he didn't expect to see two children on his bed fighting like wild animals

the younger girl was totally beating the boy’s ass tho

kinda embarrassing bc she’s gotta be like, seven, at most

as if it’s not the weirdest thing he’s seen (bc it’s not) he rushes in to break them apart

he manages to separate them with his arms 

the boy with yellow hair snaps his jaws at his sister’s fingers

“hey! bad! no biting!” he scolds

the little girl blows a raspberry and taunts “yeah! papa says no biting!”

the older sibling just rolls his eyes “rat”

meanwhile, denki is literally malfunctioning

papa?

PAPA? HUH???

the only person’s pants (and heart) he’s been trying to get in to for the past three months was y/n’s and he sure as hell would remember if he did

he didn't have kids

especially one that was his age

“sorry! you two are cute, but i’m not your pops”

thus, they begin to tell denki about how they mayhaps followed him and their mother into a dangerous mission and got hit with a time travel quirk

denki just nods his head

tbh, he’s not that weirded out

weirder things have happened

but, he does have one question

“who’s the lucky woman?”

coincidentally, you bust into his dorm room, wet from a recent prank and head steaming with anger

“Kaminari Denki!”

his son juts a thumb over to you

“the woman that’s about to murder you”

“oh say less”

his life literally couldn't get any better

before you get the chance to throttle him, the little girl jumps in your arms and your anger is immediately quelled 

“hey mommy! i just wanna let you know that it was [son’s name]’s fault that we followed you when you told us not to”

“WHAT!?”

you’re to busy trying to get them from killing each other to comprehend anything that’s going on

kaminari is in a love-struck gaze bc hot damn, he won the jackpot, huh?

if he wasn't in love with you before, he’s in love with you now

you and your feral children

it was nice being God’s favorite

Kirishima Eijirou: 

funny thing was

kirishima woke up from his afternoon nap with his mini-me in his arms!

at first, he was really confused as to why there was an 8 yr old boy with spiky teeth and (your hair texture) black hair on his bed

he thought he was dreaming

then the little boy bit his nose and grinned like he had done the funniest thing in the world 

“WAKE UP DADDY! WE GOTTA GET SWOL TODAY”

did he get hit with some duplication quirk?

and what was that he said...daddy?

as in, father?

kirishima is wide awake now, but before he can ask the kid what’s going on, the boy is up and making use of his punching bag

he decides it wouldn't hurt to get a morning work out in, so he decides to humor the kid

after a mini workout, kirishima is in near tears as the boy tries to flex the little muscles he has 

eventually, he gets the kid to tell him what happened and finds out he was hit with a time travel quirk of some sort

instead of being weirded out, kirishima is ESCTATIC 

he has a family in the future 

he’s so excited and proud that he just has to show his son off to his friends!

the first thing he does is go and bother bakusquad in the common room

he’s bragging like shit to them and his ego swells as they all swoon over how cute and handsome the kid is 

you and bakugo come out of the kitchen to see what all the commotion is about and the little boy excitedly runs to you and jumps into your arms 

“momma! you’re here! you’re so pretty! why’d you marry daddy when he looks so unswol?”

it’s silent before bakugo fucking dies of laughter 

“y-you finally let shitty hair hit it? and got knocked up?? LMAO”

everyone’s dying and kirishima wants to die

he can’t believe this was how his long-term crush on you was getting outted

by an 8 yr old boy

so not manly

you look confused before you put the pieces together

the kid did look like you and kirishima

you want to console kirishima about the crush that you lowkey knew he had on you, but your son was one step ahead of you

with a gracious smile, he hits bakugo’s head

hard

“what the fuck kid!?”

“don’t make fun of daddy, uncle bakugo! at least daddy didn’t faint at his wedding″

Bakugo’s contemplating murder and everyone’s rolling on the floor

“WE BEEN KNEW YOU WERE THE BIGGEST SIMP”

even ten years later, bakugo still holds a grudge against your son

Togata Mirio:

i’m about to kill y’all w this one

since year one, mirio has been feigning over you 

but 1) you were too dumb to notice 2) you both were really busy with, y’know, school and 3) he lowkey gave up bc he thought you deserved better

so imagine his surprise when he sees this four year old girl on his bed

and she looks like you with his features

mirio might not be the brightest crayon in the crayon box

but he’s got eyes

and it wasn't like he’s memorized your features to the T

the tiny girl is swinging her legs absent-mindedly before exploding with happiness when he sees him

she runs to mirio and he catches her with open arms 

“daddy! daddy! i got hit with the coolest quirk at school today!”

proceeds to tell him about her best friend discovered her quirk and it was a teleportation quirk 

mirio can’t help but giggle along with her even tho he knew it was a scary situation for the parents

speaking of which...

he innocently asks her who’s the mom

“mommy is the prettiest mommy in the world! she has e/c eyes, hair like me, and the most beautiful s/c skin! her name is togata y/n!”

if he wasn't geeking before, he’s geeking now

not only did he manage to marry you, but you let him be your baby daddy?

him?

big bet

mirio doesn't even care at this point

he’s parading around UA with the fattest smile as he introduces his daughter to damn near everyone 

everyone’s freaking out bc wtf when did mirio get someone pregnant??

maybe he should've explained himself, but he sees you at your locker and makes a b-line for you

“good morning, y/n!”

he doesn't notice that you slam your locker close and hide the confession letter you wrote to him behind your back

you’re a stuttering mess and he’s too busy basking in the fact that he’s holding y’alls child 

y’all look like a mess

but he’s ready to lay it on thick when the little girl kisses your nose and cheers,

“mommy, i missed you”

he explains the situation 

you cant help but smile, “you know this could potentially ruin the timeline?”

and you feel like melting as he gives you the softest smile 

“there’s no way I’m letting that happen. not when i end up with the woman i’m in love with. we’ll just have to twist fate together”

and twist it you did

Tamaki Amajiki:

tamaki wasn't the bravest person ever 

and he knew his crippling anxiety got in the way of a lot

but he had never been more proud of himself for managing to invite you to his room

it was supposed to be a study date

despite how bold you normally were, he took comfort in how nervous you seemed 

now, you two were leaning in, about to kiss

and then a voice from behind interrupts 

“uh, am i interrupting something?”

you two let out the ugliest squeal and jump 50 feet away from each other 

you’re all over the place, trying to explain the situation

tamaki’s heart is barely beating at this point

it takes the kid, who looks about 16, about thirty minutes to calm you down and revive tamaki

explains that he’s from the future and a descendant of tamaki’s family

decides to leave out that you two are his parents so he doesn't risk possibly erasing himself from the space continuum 

that would be bad

despite how surprised you two were, you two take it rather well 

you three spend the day together bc you and tamaki feel this weird sense of responsibility for the guy even though he’s only two years younger

the boy is trying his hardest not to expose himself, but it’s so hard

you two are asking him everything from his favorite food to if he has any siblings

he’s good at pretending that he’s cool, calm, and collected, but he wants nothing more than to jump into his parents’ arms and cry about how scared he is of messing up

but he won’t 

bc he’s a strong boy

but he slips up

“how far are you down the future?” tamaki asks

“uh, about like 100 years or so--”

“you’re lying”

the kid nearly chokes on his food as his father blinks at him

you try and scold tamaki but he continues

“i don’t mean to be mean, but your nose twitches when you lie. y/n does the same thing”

that’s when the jazz record stops and everyone is staring at one another

“....wait”

this time, you nearly pass out

y’all had a kid together???

THE HELL??

the boy, coincidentally, starts fading and he thinks he fucked up

now he’s full out sobbing into the both of your chests, scared that he’s disappearing

despite the news, you and tamaki calm down, look at each other, and hold your son

“don’t you worry, baby” you coo, kissing his fading hair

“i have a feeling we’ll see you quite soon” tamaki comforts, closing his eyes

Bakugo Katsuki:

bakugo finally understood when his mom said

“the meaner you are to your parents, the nastier your kids will be to you”

he regretted being such a demon bc his kid was literally the spawn of satan

katsuki didn’t need an explanation to know that that...thing was his kid

he looked damn near identical to him with features that he couldn't quite place

but anyways, that wasn't the focus rn

rn, he was trying to figure out a way to keep that animal caged

as soon as katsuki took his eyes off him, the six yr old ran out the door as fast as his little legs could carry him

“catch me if you can, you old bastard!”

yup, it was his kid

“GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE FUCKER”

his son is blasting his way through the halls, skillfully evading Katsuki’s grabbing hands 

he’s wildly laughing as he flips and turns through the doors, watching with glee as his father falls on his face

multiple times

the small boy latches on to a cupboard and smirks

“no wonder mom always beats your ass! you weak!”

katsuki nearly looks like the devil, eyes white, and face red with fury

his pride suffering by the second

he’s about to cuss the kids to hell when you come out of the kitchen, confused

you were about to ask why katsuki looked like a rat with rabies before you caught sight of a basket of fruit teetering on the edge of the cabinet, above the little boy’s head

“look out--”

the basket falls on the kid’s head and he’s on the floor, reeling from the hit

katsuki would've normally laughed his ass off, but he felt kind of...concerned?

he watches you run towards the child who’s trying his hardest not to cry

the boy holds his head, fat tears in his eyes as you pick him up and coddle over him 

“i’m sorry, baby. I'm sorry i didnt get there in time” 

cue the waterworks 

the boy is full-on sobbing into your chest about how his head hurts

you bounce him and kiss his forehead as katsuki checks over the red bump 

“you’ll be okay, brat” he comforts, voice softer than usual

in that moment, katsuki can’t help but notice how much a family y’all look like rn

then the dots start connecting and he goes 

oh shit 

so, maybe, he’s had a tiny crush on you

and it didn’t help that you two were friends with benefits bc yall were horny teenagers

but who knew he’d get the balls to ask you out on a proper date one day

he was such a simp for you gosh it was ugly

“you have to be more careful from now on,”  you say to the boy 

the brat suddenly looks innocent and katsuki wants to throw him

“sorry, mommy. i’ll be gooder”

the look on your face is priceless 

bakugo uses it as a chance to kiss you 

“huh?”

“i guess now’s a good time to tell you that i want to be your dick on demand but with feelings and shit, dumbass”

[thelittleplantlover]

Jetlagged buglar - Corpse x reader

Thank you so much @stylistiquements for letting me know about your prompt list. Finally, I am posting my spin on one of your lovely prompts. I really appreciate your patience and support <3

Pronounce: gender neutral

Warnings: none (mention of burglar)

Genre: fluff; platonic

Word count: 1996

Prompt: "I know it's 4 in the morning but ..."

~ A buglar broke into Corpse’s apartment, or at least that’s what he thinks.~

Corpse watches as his beloved green astronaut friend dramatically fell into the pool of lava. He had been, and still is, so sure Sykkuno is not one of the imposters of this round. The boy had also pleaded for his life, claiming his innocence, but to no avail. He had been found standing on top of Emma’s body by Jack. There had been no escape.

The new round began and forced him into action. The last thing he had wanted was to frame Sykkuno for his kill. It did buy him an alibi from Emma, who had met up with him in decontamination. She had not been experienced enough to realise Corpse had come from the direction of the kill to suspect him a little bit. She had quickly covered his ass and now he was free to begin his actual killing spree.

He decided that Emma should be kept alive as she seemed to be trusting him this round. His second kill was Brooke. She had been standing at the tree and it was all too easy to close the doors and hop into the vent. He met up with Emma afterwards again before splitting off to chase Tina into storage for another kill. Just as her little character fell to the floor, another body was reported. Not one he has made.

He listened to Dave describing where he had found the body when loud clattering of metal pulled him out of his concentration. He had heard rumour during this stream before. Soft sounds had distracted him momentarily now and then, making him question whether his neighbours were at it again. They could get pretty loud during arguments or resolving them. This clattering could not have been from his neighbours. It was too loud and not at all a sound he had heard from the other side of the wall before.

His attention was pulled back when someone questioned his location.

“Guys, I think someone is in my apartment.” He cautiously announced. Not wanting to be too loud in case the intruder could hear him.

“Sure! Where were you Corpse?” Rae interrogated him. Her voice strict and accusing. He quickly defended himself. He had not heard anything else, so maybe it did come from the neighbours. His defence, although slightly flawed, was accepted and Leslie was thrown out. The reason unknown to him as he had not listened to their conversation.

One more kill and the game would be won. He did not hesitate to call reactor to avoid one of the crewmates pressing the button. As he walked up to the left reactor, the victory screen played. A choired of no’s filled his ears, while Jack celebrated his win with Corpse. Normally he would join the celebration. This time another loud noise came from his living space.

“Guys. Guys. GUYS.” He whisper-yelled to get everyone’s attention. When only the among us theme came from his headphones he continued. “There is someone in my apartment. If I don’t return in ten minutes presume I am dead.” Without waiting for an answer, Corpse muted himself and took of his headphones. Grabbing a knife just to be sure in case there was indeed an intruder, he quietly stood up from his chair.

He had closed his door as usual. Hopefully, the intruder had not heard him speak. He had not been loud today due to his throat being slightly sore from being on other people’s streams lately. It might have helped him going undetected. Still, he was not fully sure whether or not there was an actual thief in his apartment. In the time he has speculated them being here and Corpse finally getting on the move the unknown presence had not moved from the main space. He was sure it would not take a thief that long to go through all his cabinets and other storage.

Slowly he opened the door to take a peek towards the origin of the loud noises. He could feel his heartbeat. The palm holding the doorknob clam. The lights were on, but he did not remember whether he himself forgot to turn them off or someone else had turned them on.

A thief would not turn the light on if they were on. Or this would have to be a very low experienced burglar.

Hearing no new sounds, he decided it was safe to investigate a little further. Corpse made sure to keep his eyes on the parts of his living room he could see, slowly making his way through the short hallway. When he finally arrived in the largest room, he did not spot anyone. No closets were opened nor was his stuff spread out on the floor. He let out a loud sigh. The loud noise had come from the neighbours after all.

Suddenly a head appeared above the counter, which provoked a loud scream to come out him. His heartbeat sped up again as he held his knife in front of him. He immediately lowered it when he realised who it was that stood in the middle of his kitchen.

The person in question seemed frozen. Eyes wide and arms filled with the snacks that previously housed the cabinets. None of them said anything, just staring at the other. Slowly they unloaded their arms on the counter.

"Look-," they were cut off by Corpse's hysterical laugh. After the initial shock of someone actually being in his house, laughing was all he could do to release the tension that had built inside him. The person behind the counter blinked dumbfounded before starting to whine.

"Corpse! Stop it's not funny!" Corpse on the other hand found the situation hilarious. The state he had found one of his best friends, (y/n), in was not one he would forget soon. It was not often you could find them in a total state of shock. The realisation that they had been busted red handed was imprinted on his retina.

"I thought you were a burglar!" Not that they were not. Except there is still a large difference between stealing a tv from a stranger or candy from your best friend. It was not unusual for Corpse to find (y/n) in his apartment holding a package of food. Sometimes, even his secret stash was raided. He had long topped from finding other placed to hide his special treats. It had always been to no avail.

The fact that he had not thought about the possibility of (y/n) being the one that broke into his home was due their vacation. Corpse had believed they would not be back in the States until later this week. If he had known they would be back already, he would not have assumed some burglar had though he could get anything valuable from this building.

"What? Why- okay. I know it's 4 in the morning, but I am extremely jetlagged, and I saw you go live so I knew you would be awake!” Corpse’s laughing subdued during the hastily explanation of the situation, leaving (y/n) to fiddle with one of the packed goods.

"I am pretty sure those are all the snack I own.” Corpse pointed to the snacks that now littered his counter. It was not much. A bag of potato chips, some candy bars, a pack of nuts he never ate one the plane and a pack of sour patches. (y/n) simply squinted their eyes at him, making him return the favour.

“They are mine now.” They slowly scooped the snacks off the counter into their arms again. He bursts out in laughter again, almost teared up from the look on their face. Snacks pushed flush to their chest, eyes that were squinted so far by now they had almost closed. Their nose and lips crunched. “Mine.” Was the last they said before making their way towards Corpse’s streaming room.

He had almost forgotten he was live due to the initial shock of someone being in this home. Quickly catching up with (y/n) he glided into his chair. The lobby screen was still on display and his chat flew by. All he could make out that he still had a few minutes before his agreed 10. He quickly unmuted to reassure his friend and chat that he was not harmed in anyway.

“I swear on my life Rae that I am fi-,” He failed to finish the sentence due to (y/n)’s facial expression. Dumb was the best way to describe it. They sat in a comfy chair next to him with their legs pulled up and their eyes were fixed on the screen, looking at some of the characters running circles around his. Their lips in a straight line, somehow still smiling.

Hiss laughter had caught their attention away. In response they grabbed one of his pillows of his bed that was just into reach.

"Stop. making. fun. of me!" Hitting Corpse rhythmically with their words. He tried to shield himself with his arms. Seeing as he could not stop his fit of laughter and his stomach started to hurt slightly, he was dubious whether to protect his head to hold is stomach.

The new voice that arose was recognized by two other people that have met up with Corpse in real life before, Dave and Emma.

"Is that (y/n)?" Dave’s English accent came out strong through Corpse’s headphones. He waved at (y/n) to stop hitting him for a second to catch his breath and answer the question he was asked. Dave, knowing more than enough to know the dynamic of these two, waited patiently on his answer. Rae on the other hand became hearable impatient by the long silence from Corpse’s side.

“Corpse. Answer the question!”

He slowly in and out haled to calm himself. A long loud sigh leaving his lips, before he answered the question. "Yes, yes, that's (y/n). Although I was right about the burglar as well. They are trying to raid my kitchen.”

(y/n) immediately sprang into action to react on that statement. Not wanting to be put in a bad light all by themselves. No, they would always happily share that special spot with a good friend. "Correct, TRYING. You literally do not have any food!"

"You dumped your arms full of MY snacks on MY table. Where I need space to actually play this game.” Corpse retorted.

“I think we established they are MY snacks now. Besides this is all you have. And it is not even touching your keyboard!” That statement was true. (y/n) had made sure to place the snack so that they did not hinder Corpse in their movements during his stream. A second reason for the snack to be not in close reach for Corpse was not named.

“I paid for those snacks.” It was a weak response. Corpse knew. But he rather let the bickering end sooner than later. His fans had been waiting anxiously for him to return and did not come to watch only to hear them bickering. However, looking at his chat they did not seem to mind at all. Still, there were more streamers live which audience might have a different opinion on that matter.

“Well, you did not pay for either Emma or me and we are definitely better snacks than I could ever find here.” They pointed to their friend’s little yellow character.  “So, I think I will take these as payment thank you very much.”

Corpse burst out laughing again a few seconds after, clutching his stomach that could barely take any more damage. (y/n) very well knew that whatever they had said was not funny at all. Or at least not this funny.

"What are they saying? Unplug your headphones!” (y/n) demanded while scooting the chair closer to the monitor.

After unplugging his headphones, Corpse asked Emma to repeat herself to share the comment with their mutual friend. He quickly pressed a button to increase the volume when she spoke up.

“We’re only worth five snacks??”

[bvccy]

Nothing to Despair | Preview 2 / Work In Progress

PAIRING: Soft!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before are asked, because of their language skills, to go undercover as married on a two-week mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, and notices his partner feels similarly isolated. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily persuaded.

WARNINGS: Just nightmares and hurt/comfort, MORE ANGST

WORD COUNT: 2K

A/N: It's been 84 years and the fic is still not done, so have another preview. I didn't wanna post more, and this is a rough version, but then N I G H T M A R E S happened and NEW GIFS I was just bouncing to contribute so here, have this. Ironically, it's not Bucky having the nightmare in my fic, it's the reader/MC having one and being comforted by him, but still gonna take advantage of this lovely gif <3

She was running aimlessly away, but he was always behind her. She could hear him catching up, and if she turned her head she could see him coming closer, and his angry heaving breath was almost right behind her, and then she woke up.

Laying in bed frozen stiff with fear, her eyes took in the darkness of — oh, her hotel room at the Grand Continental in Cer. She stood up in bed and looked around: safe, quiet, and if she tried to remember her dream she already couldn't. She picked up her phone on the bedside table, fiddling with the Stark tech to see the time: 3:36 AM.

The fear was so intense she thought she would die if she didn't hold another person, right now. She had never felt anything like this in her life: not when falling out of a tree, not when flying, not when she got the mission from Steve, not when Bucky cornered her…

Bucky. He was sleeping in the other room. If she could just — No. He would either laugh at her for being silly or resent her for waking him up. She could almost hear him now: "You woke me up, for this? Take it like a big girl and go back to bed."

But there's never been a fear like this… in her blood and her bones, and her mind and underneath it. Through the silence of the room, she could hear her own heart thrumming, and though she knew it was impossible, a part of her mind was certain there was someone there with her, waiting, ready to —

It took three minutes of hugging herself in bed and trying, uselessly, to not be scared to absolute death before her heart won over her head and she stepped lightly to Bucky's room. She didn't even knock, she scratched at the door lightly. If he was awake, he'd hear it; if he wasn't, she won't wake him up.

No response. When she turned the handle slowly and inched the door open enough to poke her head through, only then did Bucky stir in bed. She could just make out the shape of him through the light from the window.

As he groaned sleepily and shifted in his sheets to get up, she wasn't sure if he was upset with her or not, and it didn't escape her notice how his hand went underneath the pillow — a weapon hidden there, most likely — but then he spoke into the dark and sounded gentle, if groggy.

"That you, doll?"

"Yeah… Can I come in?" she whispered, clinging to the door and trembling.

"Something happen?" asked Bucky, practically awake already.

"No, nothing, but — " How to tell him, how to explain a reason as dumb as this?

He was sitting up in bed by now, rubbing his face with his flesh hand, and then he looked right at her. "Come on in."

She stepped through gratefully but still ashamed, holding onto herself in her flimsy nightgown as she padded to his large bed. As she got closer, she could finally see him: soft hair ruffled, a stubble just barely grown, a plain white tank top stretching across his chest and the hint of scarring around the left shoulder.

His eyes looked curiously up at her, even worried. She hated depending on him, or anyone, and he'd noticed it. So when she looked at him pleadingly from beside his bed, he looked ready to listen, and to do almost anything.

"This is so stupid but —"

"Tell me."

"I'm really sorry to bothe—"

"It's ok, just tell me."

"I had a nightmare please don't laugh at me."

He wordlessly lifted the duvet and patted the bed for her to lie down.

She got in quickly and, before she could think of whether it was the smart thing to do, snuggled up into his body, her face at his neck and knees brushing against his stomach. She had enough control to keep her arms folded to her chest and didn't grab onto him, although she wanted to. Her heart was still beating powerfully away, her ribs and neck pulsing with its rhythm, her breath near panting.

"Thank you. I'm so sorry I woke you up."

"It's ok." he shushed her, one heavy arm going up to tuck her in then staying curled around her, braced against her back on top of the covers.

"This never happened before." she whispered apologetically. "I think I'll be fine in… a few minutes."

"Get the adrenaline out of your body, I know."

She paused and wondered if she should ask, then decided. "You get like this too?"

"Night terrors? Yeah, used to have them a while."

"I don't think it's a night terror… Not really."

"Good." he breathed into her hair, a touch away from a kiss.

It made sense why he'd be so sympathetic. He probably understood what she was going through better than she did, and suddenly she was filled with pity at the thought of him going through that alone — that and even worse, which was unimaginable. She snuggled in just slightly closer, but this time it was not for her own sake, and she regretted, with the strength of real guilt, that she did not know him sooner, that she couldn't be there for him when he needed someone —

"H-how did you get over yours?"

— if, in fact, he didn't have someone already.

"Slowly."

She sighed and rubbed her knuckles against his chest, the closest thing to a caress she could manage, and all around her she felt him freeze for a second in an intake of breath.

"M-must've been some nightmare." to get you to cuddle with me, he left unsaid. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." she sighed. "I already forgot it. But this fear, it's not going away…"

"It's quite something, isn't it." Bucky softly said, the arm around her back moving slightly to brush a thumb over her shoulder in slow, caressing motions.

She burrowed deeper into his chest, feeling surrounded by his warmth as his chin rested lightly on top of her head, both of them melting into the pillows. Slowly, her fear left her, and she became aware of the scent of him burning her up from the inside, sharp and spicy and just a bit sweet, and how she could just about hear his heartbeat, and his breathing, and how she had never seen that much of his naked skin before — though she barely could at all in the dark.

His fingers started making circles over her shoulder, lazy and absentminded, and she had to bury the mournful thought that this was the first time she'd ever felt anything like it.

Bucky pulled her imperceptively closer, bit by bit as the tension left her, and soon the back of her curled hands fell to rest against his chest, her knuckles pressed against a naked patch of skin. She felt him inhale sharply at the contact, and underneath his sheets she too trembled at the quiet tenderness.

"Don't worry, doll." he breathed into her hair. "I'll keep you safe."

She must have dozed off at some point. She became aware of Bucky's hand now hung around her hip, her own arm flung around what measure of him she could reach. Her head was resting on his broad chest and one leg was curled on top of his underneath the blankets. He seemed sound asleep, breathing softly beneath her, head tilted toward her as the faintest sliver of morning light shone through the curtains.

Without moving her head much, she looked up at his face. Bucky seemed more grim asleep than he did awake, his delicately drawn mouth resting in a frown, his brows low and with a hint of tension, his unshaven cheeks scruffy and dark. He must've put on a bit of a show to seem cheerful in front of her, when he did…

She let her eyes lick across his figure, down his thick neck, the stretch of tough skin, and the chest with the hint of hair peeking from underneath the tank top. She breathed in the warm scent of him and suddenly the feeling of his arm gripping her waist, even in the gentleness of sleep, was overwhelming.

There was too much of him, too close, too trusting, too intimate, so wide open just for her, and the inescapable hint of his affection distressed her: with how impossible it was, with how demanding it promised to be.

Slowly, she lifted her cheek off his chest and slinked away, his hot hand scraping across her figure as she went and stepped backwards onto the floor, trying to move the bed as little as possible. She looked at the watch on the bedside table: 4:55 AM.

Tip-toeing away, she left his room and closed the door with the faintest click she could manage.

Bucky opened his eyes to find his bed empty, the room quiet and just light enough for shadows to stretch across the length of it. It was just like every other morning but somehow, through her presence the night before, she'd taken something away. It's not like he'd hoped to wake up to her in his arms. Of course not. That would be silly.

His hand moved over the sheets: cold. She probably left as soon as he fell asleep. It was amazing enough that she had come at all, but then again he had an idea of how her nightmare made her feel; if hers were anything like his, she'd have gone to just about anyone. Even… Don't finish that thought.

He turned in bed, his back to where she'd been, facing the windows and the balcony glass doors beyond which the crowns of far trees swung in the morning air, big and beflowered and brimming with birds. It was, in every other way, a beautiful morning.

And things were so close to being perfect. He had her there, he'd held her in his arms, he'd been given the chance to be good to her, and wanted, and there when she needed him, and over it all hung the cloud of wonder at what a rare person he had found in her. Yes, she was a bit sullen sometimes and unassuming, but he realised those things were what he liked so much about her, that opening to being cared for so precisely shaped for what he had to give.

She wasn’t like the women he remembered from before; she didn’t try to make herself seem softer or sharper or more cheerful than she was, with a carefully curled mane of hair or an impossibly fertile figure, nor was her every gesture an invitation to flirt. She was dull and tender by comparison, a little sensitive and a bit sad, like a girl that never grew up but who, with so small a twist, might suddenly become beautiful.

When he pushed aside his guilts and longings, Bucky was grateful for all those little faults she had. He knew that if she poured her energies into seduction, she could be terrifying and irresistible. So he decided that he liked her distant and sullen and shy, even if it kept her from him. If anything, it only made him like her more, long for her more, want her for his own flawed self; take his pity, that her pride couldn't stand, and turn it into the most dedicated caring.

But he wondered was was wrong with her — what was wrong with him for her. She could hardly stand more than a few seconds' touch from him, like a raw nerve. Did she just not like the way he looked, or walked? Or the things he said, or how he treated her, or talked? Was it the arm? Was it his age? Was it who he was?

All of these were plausible, but somehow it felt like he was missing something. She wasn't just indifferent, she was so deliberately distant it almost seemed calculated. And she didn't just decide to avoid him, he realised: she did it instinctively. Her body reacted first, and she followed. At the periphery of these unhappy thoughts was the pitying realisation that she'd had practice.

Bucky wasn't heartbroken by her tacit rejections, of course not, he wasn't that far gone yet (but there was no way his was the first heart she'd broken).

He thought back to how she was around other men. Charming, more cheerful, joking and flirty but still, in the end, distant. All the teasing jokes distracted from her, all deep conversations distracted from her, all heartfelt consolations distracted from her, every incline of her body faced away.

After only a few minutes, Bucky relented and turned, burying his face into the pillow she'd slept on. It actually still smelled faintly of her hair. It was so specific to her and so comforting, her perfume mixed with something sweet and cloying and just a touch salty, it made his mouth water and his loins burn.

He rolled onto his back, lifted the sheets off his body, and looking down he noticed the state of himself.

"Down, boy." he sighed. "She's not here anymore."

Bucky rolled out of bed and got ready for his morning push-ups. They always made him feel better… Maybe he could add another couple hundred today.

[keichanz]

Neighbors | ch. 2

hey guys. remember this fic? i finally wrote finished the second chapter two years later lajefilauhefajf whoops ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

AO3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Kagome jolted awake with a startled gasp, shooting upright in bed as her arm, on its own accord, swung out in front of her as if to catch something – or maybe catch herself from falling. For a solid minute Kagome did nothing but drag in ragged breaths, eyes wide, her arm trembling slightly from holding it aloft. Finally the glaze over her eyes seemed to clear and she blinked her vision back into focus, into reality as her consciousness slowly registered the nightmare had ended.

A flash of white caught her attention. Dazedly Kagome stared at the white gauze wrapped around her hand, uncomprehending what exactly it was for several seconds as her sluggish mind struggled into full wakefulness. Snippets of memory slipped through the haze that clouded her mind; the sound of glass shattering, a brief weightless feeling, red smeared across her hand...heavy pounding on her door, a flash of silver, of deep, burnished amber—

“Ya alright?”

“Grease dog.”

“Inuyasha.”

“Inuya—ah.”

Without any warning the pain finally registered in her hand and Kagome sucked in a sharp breath as the recollection of last night’s events came rushing to the fore. Putting away dishes, cutting her hand, falling…Inuyasha coming to see if she was all right. Her ankle developed a dull throb, reminding her of how he’d carried her out of her apartment, drove her to the hospital, and carried her inside. She remembered the needles, the fear it instilled in her, how she’d hid in Inuyasha’s shoulder. How he’d talked the entire time, distracting her so she was able to relax and forget about what the doctor was doing.

Blushing as she recalled the low timbre of his voice and the solid strength of his arms beneath her, Kagome winced as the pain in her hand turned into a burning throb that was getting increasingly difficult to ignore. She bought the appendage into her lap and inspected the white bandage, trying to recall the doctor’s instructions concerning the injury. Truthfully she couldn’t remember much after Inuyasha had announced the treatment was finished so she must have been on auto pilot up until Inuyasha carrying her back out to his truck. Then she remembered nothing so she must have dozed off on the way back home.

Her blush darkened at the implication that her handsome neighbor had carried her to bed, however it was impossible to stop the pleased smile from curling her lips. She already owed him so much for coming to her rescue and seeing to her care. But knowing that he hadn’t stopped there, taking her to her room and putting her to bed? It astounded Kagome, how someone she barely knew could be so thoughtful, and Kagome hoped she’d be able to make it up to him. She was grateful for all he’d done, and she wanted to make sure he knew it.

Kagome’s smile widened and she nodded determinedly to herself. “Right. First things—ow.”

Hissing as her right ankle twinged, Kagome moved more slowly as she swung her legs off the bed and carefully placed her foot on the floor. It still hurt like hell but she was pretty sure she could still walk. The ace bandage prevented her from seeing if there was bruising or swelling, although she didn’t think it was sprained, just a bad twist, which she was thankful for. She still had a lot of unpacking to do and having a sprained ankle would put a damper on her plans.

Wrinkling her nose as she contemplated on what to do next – she knew walking on it would slow the healing but she didn’t exactly have a choice, nor did she own any crutches – something on her nightstand caught her attention. Turning her head, she found what looked to be a wrinkled receipt sitting on the table with a scrawled message. Instantly Kagome’s heart quickened and she snatched it up, unable to stop another smile from blossoming as she read the short note.

Text me in the morning # in your phone

- I

God, how stupid was it that such a simple, completely generic and normal message left her heart pounding and her stomach fluttering?

Oh my god, Kagome, get a grip! It’s just a dumb note! You barely even know the guy; it’s completely ridiculous to fawn over a stupid wrinkled receipt!

Kagome read the message again and butterflies took flight in her belly.

Oh, god. She had it bad.

Kagome moaned and let her head roll forward on her shoulders, lifting a hand and racking fingers through her hair. She let the paper fall to the floor, stared at it for a minute, cursed, then stooped down to pick it up and place it back on the nightstand. Scowling at how ridiculous she was being now, Kagome shook her head and resolved to push those thoughts to the back of her mind to dwell on at a later time.

A much later time.

Sucking in a breath, Kagome braced her hands on the bed and slowly pushed to her feet, baring her weight on her left leg and using the nightstand to keep her balance. Biting her lip, she carefully let her right foot rest on the floor before slowly shifting to bear her weight on it a little at a time. As expected her ankle protested but she grit her teeth through the pain and forced herself to take a tiny, shuffling step. To her surprise and utter relief her ankle didn’t give and she breathed through the pain as she took another one, slowly limping her way toward the door, trying very hard to ignore the pain that ricocheted up her leg as the idle thought of what the time was floated across her mind.

Somehow she managed to make it to the bathroom without incident and shuffled out only a short time later. As much as she wanted one, Kagome didn’t think she could handle a shower right now, not with her ankle as it was. And with her hand the way it was, it was probably best she avoided getting it wet, at least for now. She’d do a Google search later on how to properly clean and treat a post-stitched wound, or something.

She gimped her way to the kitchen, finding it was getting slightly easier to walk even if the pain didn’t exactly lessen. It was halfway down the hallway that she remembered about the shattered glass she’d have to clean up and she gave an involuntary pitiful whimper. Man, she really didn’t think she’d be able to sweep it all up, not when she could barely—

Kagome stood in the doorway to her kitchen and gaped at her clean floor. Seconds later a warm, not at all unpleasant feeling blossomed in her chest and spread outward. The corners of her lips flickered into a smile as a soft blush colored her cheeks, those damn butterflies once more taking flight in her belly.

“Inuyasha,” Kagome murmured and leaned against the jamb with a soft sigh. So not only had the man taken her to the hospital, carried her to bed, and practically tucked her in, he’d also had the consideration to sweep up the shattered glass that had littered her kitchen floor.

Damn, Kagome mused, biting her lip as she carefully shuffled over to the car counter that bisected her living room and kitchen. Just sweep me off my feet while you’re at it.

Feeling a mite flushed and resisting the ridiculous urge to giggle like a schoolgirl with a crush, Kagome hopped up onto one of the bar stools with more difficulty than usual and swiped up her phone. It had been sitting there since last night while she was putting away dishes and she wasn’t surprised to find it was only at 10% charge.

Still enough to send a quick message, though, she mused with a little smile and checked the time—just after 9 AM. It was a reasonable enough time; he should be awake, right? Granted, they did get back fairly late and though she couldn’t remember the exact time, she knew it’d been closing in on midnight when the doctor finally finished stitching up her hand.

It's just a text, Kagome reasoned and opened up her contacts, ignoring the way her stomach did that weird swooping thing again. Even if he is still sleeping, he’ll see it when he wakes up.

Opening her messages, she immediately zeroed in on the latest one sent and the smile that split her face was embarrassingly giddy. Inuyasha had sent himself a text, just a simple and short “hi,” but it had her heart pounding nonetheless as a squeal bubbled up her throat and good god she was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush now, for heaven’s sake!

Shaking her head and telling herself to get a damn grip, Kagome fired off a simple “Good morning! :)” before deliberately setting the mobile onto the counter and carefully climbing down from the stool. She knew that if she just continued to sit there waiting for him to reply, she’d drive herself crazy wondering if he’d received it or not and she’d constantly check her messages to see if she had one back yet. She might as well pass the time by doing something productive and not acting like a teenaged girl with her first crush, so with a grunt Kagome hobbled her way back to her bedroom.

After brushing her teeth, taming the unruly waves of her hair into some semblance of order before promptly putting it into a messy ponytail, and changing into some clean clothes, she was feeling a little more human than before. Donned in a simple t-shirt and black capri leggings, Kagome deemed herself ready to face the day’s challenges and shuffled back out into the kitchen, using the walls and pieces of furniture to help kept most of her weight off her ankle.

Amazing what a little bit of deodorant and a fresh pair of panties could do to a woman’s confidence, Kagome idly mused and started up her Keurig before hopping over to the counter. The hope was evident in her eyes as she woke up the screen to her cell and then her entire face lit up with a smile.

2 new messages

So he was awake. Leaning against the counter, Kagome eagerly opened it up, telling herself that she wasn’t being ridiculous. She wasn’t.

morning

how you feelin?

Resisting the urge to immediately start firing off text after text, reassuring him that she was fine and then expressing her endless gratitude with even more messages, Kagome bit her bottom lip and flicked her gaze to the door. It just felt too…impersonal, thanking him via text message, especially after all that he’d done for her. She thought it would have better impact to tell him face to face, to let him know just how much she appreciated his help and how grateful she was to him. It was hard to express that kind of thing through text, after all, and Kagome was nothing if not thorough when it came to something like this.

So, considering all of that…perhaps her attractive downstairs neighbor wouldn’t mind a brief morning visit?

Mind made up, and stubbornly ignoring that damn giddy feeling again as it welled up in her chest, Kagome left her phone sitting on the counter and slipped her feet into a pair of hard-soled slippers before heading toward the door. Her ankle and hand were both throbbing and she told herself she’d take some painkillers after she probably conveyed her thanks to Inuyasha. No doubt she’d probably already overdone it from all the moving around she’d already done that morning and she resolved to a day of rest on the couch, some Uber Eats, and Netflix.

After she got back, of course. First there was a certain golden-eyed, devilishly handsome grease dog she had to talk to and profusely thank for his thoughtfulness.

Exiting her apartment and letting the door swing shut behind her, Kagome made it to the top of the stairs before realizing she had a bit of a problem and she pouted in frustration. Dammit, how was she going to get down the stairs with a bum ankle? She eyed the railing and winced; while wholly intact, it didn’t look very sturdy and Kagome didn’t trust it to hold her weight if she leaned too much into it. So she supposed that left one other option left because she was getting own those stairs, goddammit.

Heaving a sigh of resignation, Kagome rolled her eyes and knelt down before falling back onto her butt with a grunt. Then, lifting her foot to keep her weight off of it, Kagome scooted on down the stairs one by one, feeling a bit like a child, but knowing it was the only way without possibly losing her balance and falling down the stairs.

Several minutes later and with a slightly sore butt, Kagome used the railing to heave herself to her feet. She deliberately didn’t think about how she’d get back up the stairs as she hobbled the few feet to Inuyasha’s door. Sucking in a bracing breath, and trying to control the wild fluttering of her heart rate, Kagome lifted a hand to knock gently—

The door swung open before her knuckles could make contact and she was left blinking up into the scowling visage of her downstairs neighbor.

Kagome blinked. Smiled. “Hi.”

Inuyasha crossed his arms and glowered down at her. Wearing a tight black t-shirt and dark-washed jeans, he looked rather intimidating with those stern golden eyes glaring at her with clear disapproval and his mouth turned down into an annoyed frown.

Kagome’s smile faded a little at his less than receptive greeting and she felt a flush coloring her cheeks. She shifted her weight and didn’t miss the way his eyes flashed down to her ankle. His scowl deepened and she suspected she knew the reason for his apparent irritation.

“Um…how did you—”

“I heard you on the stairs,” he cut her off before promptly bending down and sweeping her up into his arms.

Gasping sharply, Kagome could feel her face growing very warm as Inuyasha effortlessly carried her into his home and then set her down onto his two-seater couch, being careful not to jostle her ankle. Wide-eyed and face very red, Kagome watched as he sat on the coffee table before her and wordlessly held out his hand.

She blinked at him. He wiggled his fingers, clearly impatient, and when all she did was stare at him, Inuyasha sighed, reached down, and lifted her foot to prop against his knee. Tugging the slipper off, he carefully began unraveling the bandage around her ankle, needing to see if it had gotten better or worst since last night. He could feel the weight of her slightly stunned gaze on him as he worked but he ignored it, trying valiantly to keep a tight rein on the anger simmering just below the surface.

“Idiot,” he snapped as the bandage fell to the floor and lifted angry amber eyes to lock with sheepish caramel-colored depths. “What the hell were you thinking going down those stairs by yourself? You could have fallen and ended up with something far worse than just a sprained ankle! What part of ‘stay off of it as much as you can’ didn’t you understand, stupid girl?”

Indignant that he would immediately assume she walked down the stairs, Kagome leveled him with a mulish glare and pursed her lips. Color filtered into her cheeks at the obvious reprimand and she huffed, crossing her arms.

“First of all, I didn’t walk down the stairs, I scooted, and second, how else am I supposed to get around when I don’t own any crutches? Oh wait, just let me go fetch the bloody wheelchair I keep stashed in my closet for a random twisted ankle!”

Inuyasha snorted at her “scooted” comment and tried very hard not to grin at that highly amusing mental image his brain supplied as he gently prodded at the swollen flesh of her ankle. Kagome hissed and flinched. His ears pinned against his head and his frown deepened as he carefully turned her ankle over in his hand.

“Sprained,” he repeated, studying the light bruising that was starting to come in. “Not twisted. It’s mild, though, so should heal within a few days. Provided you stay off it like you should have been doing.”

Kagome frowned. “But the doctor—”

“Is an idiot,” he finished and gently let her foot back on the floor. “And it was probably the end of his shift, you were no doubt his last patient, and was probably too tired to give a rat’s ass if it was twisted or sprained, so he didn’t and just said to stay off it. Which you didn’t.”

“Well, unless you expected me to fly to the bathroom—”

He gave her a look and she rolled her eyes.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Jeez, I’ll stay off the damn foot.”

Satisfied, Inuyasha grunted and stood up. “You want anything to drink? Coffee?”

Kagome perked up at the prospect of hot coffee. She’d meant to make herself a cup but then promptly forgot about it when she decided to come down here instead.

“Coffee would be great,” she said but then faltered when Inuyasha walked toward the kitchen without another word. “Wait, Inuyasha! Ah…damn.”

Huffing, Kagome deliberated for about half a second before getting to her feet and limping her way after him. She was determined to thank him, dammit, if it was the last thing she did!

When her ankle started protesting too much, she hopped the rest of the way and managed to reach the doorway before having to stop to rest, leaning against the doorjamb. Standing in front of his coffee machine, Inuyasha’s ear flicked behind him before he looked over his shoulder at her and then promptly muttered a curse, rolling his eyes.

“Inuyasha,” Kagome said and tipped him a smile as he started toward her. But before she could continue, the half-demon bent down, wrapped his arm around her thighs, and promptly hoisted her over his shoulder.

Kagome squeaked in surprise, the blood rushing to her face to paint it a lovely scarlet color as Inuyasha stalked back into his living room and dumped her back onto the couch.

“Stay,” he told her, jabbed a finger at her face with a pointed look, then disappeared into the kitchen again, grumbling under his breath.

Kagome pouted and sunk back into the couch, glaring mulishly at the dark flat screen television across from her. For lack of anything better to do since she was evidently sequestered to the couch while Mr. Moody made her coffee, Kagome took in her surroundings.

She suspected that at one point in time, the entire apartment house had been one unit before it was split in two and what she was staring at now was the original décor. Inuyasha’s walls were covered with that fake wood paneling and the carpet, while clean, was faded red shag. A huge, old brick fireplace took up one corner of the room and she had to wonder if some of the shelving on the walls was original, too.

Honestly, Kagome liked it. It was charming, cozy with a rustic feel to it, and for some reason it suited the half-demon in the kitchen. Despite just having met him last night, she got the sense that he liked to live simply, without all the bells and whistles that her own upgraded apartment had.

The upstairs must have been a more recent addition, Kagome surmised. Or at the very least had a recent renovation to attract more tenant applicants. If she had to guess, the oldest thing in her own apartment was probably the furnace. She didn’t mind, though; why fix what ain’t broke, right?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Inuyasha walked in from the kitchen holding a streaming mug of delicious java and a plate of what looked to be toast. Kagome blinked in surprise as her mouth twitched upward. He’d made her breakfast, too?

He set both items on the coffee table in front of her and Kagome saw that the toast was in actuality a toasted sandwich with a fried egg and tomato. Her stomach rumbled in appreciation as her heart warmed even further at her neighbor’s seemingly endless consideration. Goodness, at this rate, she was going to fall—

“Wait,” Kagome said when Inuyasha once again started to leave. Thankfully this time he stopped, half-turning toward her and cocking a single brow in silent inquiry.

“Thank you,” she blurted.

Inuyasha shrugged. “It’s just coffee and the sandwich was easy—”

“That’s not what I meant,” Kagome gently cut him off and then gave him a warm, genuine smile. “I mean, thank you for everything, Inuyasha. For coming to see if I was okay last night after I fell, for taking me to the hospital, for…”

She blushed. “For putting me to bed. And yes, for this, too.”

Kagome gestured to the coffee and food and leveled him with another soft smile, her eyes glittering with unconcealed appreciation and warmth.

“Just…thank you,” she said sincerely. “I came down here because I wanted to tell you that in person, not through a text. Sorry for making you worry.”

Inuyasha stared at her and could feel his cheeks warming with a slight flush because yeah, she had worried him when she’d come down those stairs by herself. Wench was clearly more perceptive than he’d anticipated and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of that yet. One thing he was certain of, however, was that when she smiled at him like that his stomach did this weird swooping thing and something warm blossomed in his chest. His mouth suddenly felt dry and he had to swallow once, twice before he felt like he could speak again.

Ah…shit.

Not trusting his voice to not crack and hoping his face wasn’t as red as he feared, Inuyasha merely nodded before disappearing down the hall.

Pleased her gratitude had been adequately conveyed and recalling how cute he’d looked while blushing, Kagome finally allowed herself to enjoy the breakfast Inuyasha had so generously provided. The sandwich was delicious, the coffee was the perfect temperature, and she didn’t know how he’d done it, but her attractive silver-haired neighbor had added the perfect amount of cream to sweeten it just how she liked it. The man was a Godsend and hell yes she was grateful that he was her neighbor and not someone else’s.

She’d just polished off the sandwich and was settling back into the cushions with her coffee cradled in her hands when Inuyasha reappeared and her eyebrows rose in pleasant surprise. He’d put all that glorious silver hair up into a haphazard bun and was in the process of jamming a black ball cap onto his head as he headed for the door. Kagome blinked. Was he leaving?

“Are you going somewhere?” she asked, watching as he shrugged on a leather jacket and grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter that divided the two rooms, similar to her own.

“Just gonna run a few errands,” he rumbled and double checked to make sure he had his wallet and phone. “Stay put. I’ll be back soon.”

Kagome frowned. “But—”

Before Kagome could even draw in the breath to gasp, Inuyasha was suddenly right in front of her and leaning down with his arms caging her on either side. Her eyes widened and her face erupted in color, butterflies taking flight in her belly as her heart skipped a beat.

Staring directly into her eyes and trying very hard to ignore how fucking wonderful she smelled, Inuyasha narrowed his eyes and growled, “Do. Not. Move. From his couch. I’ll know if you did. Capisce?”

Eyes side, Kagome swallowed thickly, licked her lips, and nodded.

Inuyasha’s gaze flicked to her mouth then back to her eyes too fast for her to process before he emitted a low grunt and pushed away. Kagome released a breath she didn’t even know she was holding and silently watched as he headed toward the door.

She bit her lip. “Inu—”

He stopped, jabbed at finger at her, and Kagome’s jaw clicked shut. Satisfied, Inuyasha opened the door and exited his apartment, closing the door behind him.

Kagome stared at the door and stayed put…for five seconds. Quickly, in case he came back for whatever reason, Kagome got to her feet and hobbled as fast as she could down the hall toward the bathroom.

Hey, it wasn’t her fault her bladder decided to tell her she had to pee right before he walked out the door!

[goodomensblog]

Afterward - Part 15

A Good Omens Choose Your Own Adventure Fic

Here’s how it works:

I’ll write a scene.

At the end of each scene, you’ll be presented with 2-3 options for what the characters will choose to do next.

Comment or reblog to vote for your choice. I’ll count all votes after the first 24 hours after each update is posted.

Read: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14

(#3 wins because y’all love chaos, don’t you? Totally understandable. I love it too.)

Afterward - - - Part 15

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

Beelzebub, lord of flies, master of tyrants, patron of demon worship, and prince of Hell, is having, by their own estimation, a pretty shit day.

“I think I’d honestly rather die,” Beelzebub groans, as Crowley hauls them impudently up onto his skinny back. 

“I’m saving you, you ungrateful lump of flies, whether you like it or not.”

And Beelzebub, who is having the unfortunate realization that they are too weak to so much as wriggle their way out of this humiliating position, settles for flopping over the demon Crowley’s shoulder in such a way that the black, clotted blood dribbling out of their mouth splats grotesquely down the front of Crowley’s shirt.

“Thank you. Thanks for that,” Crowley says, grabbing underneath Beelzebub's legs to hike the demon a little higher on his back.

“Welcome,” Beelzebub replies, and more blood dribbles out.

Snatching the jar of Hellfire from the table, Crowley clutches it to his chest. With his other hand scooped behind Beelzebub’s leg to keep them in place, he kicks the door open and prowls, piggy-backing Beelzebub, prince of Hell, into the halls of Heaven.

Beelzebub, bouncing with Crowley’s every loping step, has closed their eyes. Head lolling forward, they’ve half given into the encroaching darkness, when Crowley’s annoying, incessant mutterings drag them back into full consciousness. 

“-now for this to work, I’ll just have to-”

The jar lid pops open. Hellfire leaps up, red flames lapping at the edges of the jar and the nearby grasping fingers. Beelzebub can feel it - the rich, tantalizing heat, and slumps forward, breathing in the fire’s acrid scent.

Crowley carelessly drops the jar, and it clatters across the floor as eager flames wrap around the demon’s wrists; they twist, winding up and around his forearms. It’s at that point that Crowley resumes walking. He does nearly trip over the dropped jar, but manages to stay on his feet with a skip and a hop. 

With each step, Crowley mutters sibilant syllables beneath his breath. They are rich as velvet, coaxing the fire with ancient, saccharine promises.

Beelzebub is generally repulsed by Crowley, but not enough to resist perching their chin on Crowley’s shoulder when the first flickers of flames slide over Beelzebub’s dangling arms. They sigh, going limp with relief as revitalizing flames sink into their skin.

Crowley continues walking and chanting and only stumbling occasionally. And Beelzebub hates Crowley, they really do, but they have to admit - he’s not bad at coaxing Hellfire. Beelzebub can feel the healing warmth of the flames sinking into the marrow of their very being. 

“You awake, Lord Buzziest?” Crowley asks, hiking up Beelzebub from their slowly sliding descent down his back.

When Beelzebub opens their eyes to a completely unfamiliar hall, they have the abrupt and horrifying realization that they had indeed drifted briefly to sleep. While being piggy-backed, no less. Would the humiliations never cease?

“Of course I’m awake,” Beelzebub grouses, digging a bony knee into Crowley’s side. “And no nicknames.”

“Alright, alright,” Crowley says, hands up. “I’ve given you all the Hellfire, by the way. Is it working?”

Beelzebub straightens up, pressing a hand against their chest. Eyes closed, they draw a long breath in. Breathing out, they tip their head from side to side, cracking their neck.

“Yeah,” Beelzebub answers, fingers splayed across dry, cracking blood. “Starting to.” 

They hadn’t expected the Hellfire to make them good as new, but it has at least kick-started the process. Beelzebub can feel the infernal energy within themself stirring, slowly mending what had very nearly been irreparably broken.

“I’m looking for Aziraphale, or Gabriel - or I guess, really anyone,” Crowley says, the tension in his voice embarrassingly undisguised. “They’re not where I expected them to be. At least based on the earlier racket.”

Beelzebub’s lip curls in disgust at the emotional display, but nonetheless closes their eyes, spreading their awareness wide. 

Heaven is... not exactly what Beelzebub remembers. Not that they remember much. But somehow, in those blotchy, indistinct recollections, it is brighter, louder, warmer. Safe. 

And there definitely wasn’t a malignant, pulsing thing in the central courtyard. 

“The thing is in the innermost courtyard,” Beelzebub says, opening their eyes. “Don’t know if your stupid angel’s with it.”

“Alright then,” Crowley replies, and promptly sets off in that direction.

He’s halfway down the corridor before Beelzebub fully processes the significance of Crowley’s unilateral decision.

“Hey! Hey! Hold up!” Beelzebub says, weakly digging their heels underneath Crowley’s ribs. “I don’t want to go near that thing. Put me down!”

Crowley doesn’t slow. “Can you walk on your own yet?” he asks, yellow eyes rolling up behind his dumb glasses.

The tingling ache in Beelzebub’s extremities suggests they probably cannot. It’s infuriating and humiliating and Beelzebub wants to die.

Crowley takes their silence as an answer. “Guess you’re tagging along, then,” he says with a grim smile.

“I hate you. With the entirety of my being.”

Whistling, Crowley walks faster.

As they approach the courtyard, the air begins to feel heavy, and it tastes - tart, cloying, rotten. Beelzebub’s lips curl back, and they warily suck the air between sharpening teeth.

“Demon Crowley,” Beelzebub orders, fingers curling over his shoulders as their sharp gaze scans from left to right. “Go slowly.”

Crowley, for once in his miserable existence, listens. Rolling through his steps, he prowls cautiously into the courtyard.

It’s exquisite - if you’re into uninspired pale flagstone and modern, geometric looking decorative fountains. The bodies on the ground don’t at all fit with the aesthetic.

The Archangel Gabriel is slumped over the edge of the fountain, golden blood sliding down his arm, dripping into cloudy water. The second figure is crumpled closer to the center of the courtyard - as though they’d put themselves between the archangel and whatever had been attacking him. The second one, though further away and also face down, is obviously Crowley’s angel - Aziraphale.

Crowley makes a pitiable, strangled sound, and Beelzebub just knows he’s going to charge out into the courtyard. Nails shifting to claws, Beelzebub digs them into Crowley’s shoulder.

“He lives, Crowley, I can feel the flicker of life from all the way over here,” Beelzebub hisses at his ear. 

Beelzebub can feel Gabriel’s life as well, a bright flare of energy at the fountain’s edge.

“Do not rush in,” Beelzebub continues, clenching at cloth and skin, “Something watches from the shadows.”

Crowley stiffens at that. Head tilted, he slowly, carefully, pulls down his glasses. 

“Who’s there?” he calls out.

Beelzebub shivers, the hairs on the back of their neck rising, one by one. Not daring to breathe, not daring to move, Beelzebub watches the space they know a creature waits.

At the courtyard’s edge, a figure unfolds itself from the shadows.

It is...an angel. The short, balding one. Sandalphon, if Beelzebub recalls correctly. 

Beelzebub and Crowley watch as the angel Sandalphon strolls out of darkness. His pale, pudgy hands are folded in front of his stomach, and he narrows his eyes, chin tilting inquisitively up as he inspects them.

Crowley looks from that angel to his angel, and Beelzebub digs their nails deeper into his flesh. Do not move. Do not move, Beelzebub thinks, squeezing.

Sandalphon tilts his head and speaks. “The angels fought me. And then they ran from me. At least, they tried to.” 

The voice that emerges from his throat is layered and ringing and it leaves Beelzebub with more than a passing inclination to shove their claws deep into their own ears, if only to make it stop.

“I thought I’d conquered all of Hell,” Sandalphon continues, lips quirking in puzzlement, “and yet here, in Heaven of all places, I find two unconquered demons wandering about.”

“Conquered?” Beelzebub growls, mind racing. 

They’d fled Hell after Satan had gone mad and started attacking his Princes. At the time, everything had been a giant fucking mess, and Beelzebub had made a tactical retreat to recover. Hell had been chaotic, sure - but conquered? 

Crowley cuts in before Beelzebub can say another word. “You’re not Sandalphon, are you?”

The thing smiles wide, revealing the angel’s ostentatious gold capped teeth. “I’m wearing Sandalphon. Just like I’m wearing Satan. And the demons and angels who weren’t quite quick enough.”

“Satan-” Beelzebub breathes, trembling. They’d thought he’d been bespelled. or some level of possessed, but this was - unforgivable.

“And God?” Crowley cuts in, voice sharp.

The thing tilts its head in a jagged, unnatural jerk. “She disappeared before I could get my hands on her, I’m afraid. Awfully cruel of her, I say, abandoning all of you like that. Though I suppose you two are rather used to it.”

“What the fuck are you?” Beelzebub snaps.

“Oh!” And the thing wearing Sandalphon like a second skin gives a start, “I didn’t introduce myself, did I?”

Sandalphon’s head dips forward. From the back of his neck, pale, twisting limbs unfold. Like spider’s legs, bent and folded back over themselves, they jerkily unfurl. There must be at least eight, and at the end of each limb, bony, clawed hands splay - reaching. The pale, sickly limbs spread out, lifting a creature which emerges from the back of Sandalphon with a frankly horrifying squelch. The thing is limpid and waifish, and watches them with black, eternity old eyes.

“Dear creatures of this poor, dying universe, you may call me Entropy.”

“Entropy?” Beelzebub hisses.

As Crowley says, “This universe?”

The thing smiles, and it’s mouth is a void. “Everything ends, honey. I hop from place to place, returning universes to the nothing from which they came.”

“Why?” Crowley asks.

“Why not?” the thing answers, void smile spreading across the lower half of it’s narrow face.

And then Crowley is unhooking Beelzebub’s arms. When he lowers them down, Beelzebub hates how their legs, still embarrassingly weak, give out beneath them. Teeth gritted, Beelzebub kneels on cold flagstone.

Crowley steps away, turning toward the abomination of limbs and hands.

“Demon Crowley?” Beelzebub calls when he takes a careful step forward.

“Gonna get Aziraphale,” Crowley says, soft.

The thing - Entropy - looks down. Round eyes unblinkingly survey the courtyard. 

“Aziraphale,” it says, singing the name in that horrifying voice. “Is he the soft looking one? He did put up a formidable fight.”

“I’m taking him with me,” Crowley says, low and dangerous.

The thing laughs and it’s so awful Beelzebub has to physically refrain from flinching back. “No. No you’re not,” it says, and laughs again. “He’s strong. And I need the strong ones. I like wearing them best. And if I’m not careful, even the strong ones-”

The clawed hands encircling Sandalphon squeeze. Within moments, black cracks are crawling ominously over the angel’s form. The air begins to whine. Then, with a pop the angel’s form folds in. He shatters into a cloud of black and gold dust that falls silently to the floor.

“Oops,” the thing exclaims.

Beelzebub and Crowley stare, mouths open and the pile of angel at the creature’s feet.

That kind of power is...Beelzebub can’t conceive of it. Not that they have time to try. Before the last Sandalphon dust speck has fallen, Crowley launches into motion.

“Shit,” Beelzebub breathes, because this is not a fight any angel or demon can win.

Crowley gets to Aziraphale before the creature does, but he only just has time to drag Aziraphale aside before a clawed hand spears down, piercing clear through the stone tile. Crowley, scrambling, drags Aziraphale back, avoiding a second stabbing hand.

“Move faster you idiot,” Beelzebub shouts.

“Trying to,” Crowley yelps, yanking his angel another several feet back, barely avoiding the third strike.

He’s not going to make it, Beelzebub realizes with a sinking certainty. Crowley has always been a slippery one, but this thing - this Entropy - is like nothing Beelzebub has ever encountered. It has the strength to casually turn an angel to dust, and Crowley was half-exhausted when they entered the courtyard. 

Beelzebub should get the hell out of here - while the Entropy creature is preoccupied with Crowley. 

Bracing their hands on cold stone, Beelzebub, rises on shaking legs. Their legs burn - and not in the good way. Clenching their jaw, Beelzebub sways, remaining determinedly upright. They take an unsteady step back, away from the chaos in the courtyard.

Behind them, Crowley screams.

Beelzebub, shaking with effort, looks back.

Crowley is on the ground, one leg speared by the creature’s clawed fingers. He’s pushed Aziraphale behind him as the creature, balanced on pale, spindly legs, rises above them both. It’s speaking, void-black mouth stretched in that wide, unsettling grin.

“Poor, poor demon,” it croons, and presses the claw deeper. “Abandoned by God. Left to rot in Hell. And then you didn’t even fit in there did you? What kind of outcast doesn’t even fit in with the outcasts?”

The claw twists and Crowley gasps.

Beelzebub closes their eyes, clenching aching muscles in an effort to remain upright. If they are going to escape, it’s now or never.

“I do want the angel,” the creature says, it’s porcelain face looming over Crowley, “but don’t you worry demon - I’ll mercifully end your miserable existence.”

Beelzebub moves.

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

A creature calling itself Entropy is revealed! It seems to have plans to end this universe, and has already single handedly conquered both Heaven and Hell (yikes). Entropy intends to use Aziraphale and to kill Crowley, and Beelzebub is left with a choice. Beelzebub will…

Fight. Mustering their remaining strength, Beelzebub will show this Entropy abomination the hell a real demon is capable of raising. It’s not that they care about Crowley (or his stupidly nice angel)….they just don’t want to feel like they owe him.

Flee. Beelzebub is a survivor. They are injured and weak and they are not about to enter into a fight they have little hope of surviving. Sorry Crowley….it’s nothing personal. (Note: this will result in an immediate POV shift)

Please comment or reblog to vote! :) 

(also, I absolutely love all of you who have been taking the time to explain the reasoning behind your votes. It’s always interesting to see where you all are coming from!)

Part 16

[cas-kingdom]

A Very Peaky Christmas

A/N: Not altogether too pleased with this, but there’s no harm in posting it nonetheless. Reader is 10- enjoy! <3

Find the OC version of this fic here.

Title: A Very Peaky Christmas

Summary: What’s worse than being sick? Being sick on Christmas Day. Fortunately, the Shelbys are renowned for cheering up the baby of their family.

Words: 2381

Tommy had an internal alarm clock on Christmas morning. He didn’t even think it was purposeful, but years of being jumped on and startled awake as soon as the sun began to rise, with screams of “it’s Christmas! It’s Christmas!” ringing in his ears must have had something to do with it. 

Now, he always managed to wake up approximately ten minutes before he was ambushed, just so he was able to mentally prepare himself for what was inevitably going to come. 

And this Christmas was no different. Nineteen-twenty. A house with two children aged eleven and ten. Not ideal for a man who’d barely returned from the war and hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in over four years. Thankfully, the eleven-year-old had enough sense to jump on Arthur instead, who didn’t seem to mind as he was always just as excited for the holiday as the kids. The ten-year-old, however... well. Tommy was most definitely the��favourite sibling, there. 

Despite his mental preparing, he was quite surprised when the pitter-patter of little feet entering his room and readying to leap weren’t heard, even after fifteen minutes of lying awake, staring up at the ceiling, willing his eyes not to close from utter exhaustion. Of course, he wouldn’t be so puzzled if it were any other instance, but this was his sister. And it was Christmas morning. And he was worried. 

So, with a groan as his tired limbs protested to the movement, he slowly sat up and swung his legs around, flinching when the coldness of the wooden floor seeped through his socks. He heaved himself up to his feet and grabbed the woollen blanket at the end of his bed, uncharacteristically sniffing and wrapping it around himself. It was way too early for him, but for his sister, he was quite sure it was way too late. 

Thankfully, the intended room was only next door, so it didn’t take him long to walk out of his own room and shuffle towards the other. He could see the flickering candlelight under Arthur’s door, and the hushed talk his ears picked up signified that Finn had already made his attack and the two brothers were waiting for everyone else to wake up so they could all trek down to the living room together to meet with the rest of the family and open the presents.

Quietly, he pulled the handle down and gently pushed the door open, peeking his head in just enough to see a small dark lump under the bed. He rose an eyebrow. So… the monster still slept.

He walked into the room, clutching the blanket around his shoulders, and softly walked towards the bed. Once he was close enough, he reached out and leaned over a little to peer further. A frown creased his forehead and his eyes narrowed the moment they caught sight of the look on your face. It was scrunched terribly together, and your hands were tightly clutching the blankets, so, with a little flutter of concern in his heart, he sat himself down on the side of the bed and placed a hand on your shoulder, shaking it a little. “Y/N? Sweetheart?” he gently called out. A second later he was greeted by an exhausted face with drooping eyes and a forehead sheening with sweat. Concern immediately filled him and he shifted, dropping his hands and consequently the blanket in favour of leaning over to look closer at you. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said quietly. “Are you okay?”

You groaned pitifully. “Feel sick,” you mumbled, lifting your arms in clear askance. He had no trouble complying and swiftly set about picking you up and cradling you on his lap. His hand rested on your forehead as you snuggled up against his chest, and he frowned at the heat radiating from your skin.

“You’ve got a little fever,” he told you.

You whined. “But it’s Christmas, Tommy.”

Tommy smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of your tousled hair. “I know,” he said, “but that’s fine. We can still have a good day, alright? At least it saves me from being jumped on at a godawful hour of the morning.” His smile grew as a little knowing smirk appeared on your lips, and you sniffed, blinking tiredly. Of all the days to be sick, he couldn’t help but think, it had to be Christmas day, didn’t it? As much as he dreaded being woken up in the manner specific to the day, there was always an ounce of happiness that accompanied it. Having two little children in the house – though he was sure it was probably dwindling down to one, now – who believed in Santa Clause and his reindeer and anticipated each day as any little child did was absolutely magical, especially to a family affected by the hardships of the war and all the destruction it had brought along with it, both mental and physical.

The door creaking as it opened caused the both of you to turn your heads towards it. Finn immediately leaped into the room while Arthur merely peeked his head through the crack. “What’s this then, eh? Almost seven in the morning and you’re still in bed?”

Tommy grimaced when Finn jumped onto the bed, nattering on excitedly about the presents he was hoping to receive once they all trooped downstairs. Tommy glanced over his shoulder and removed a hand from around you to gently grasp his younger brother’s bouncing form. “Oi,” he said, “oi! Calm down, Finn. Your sister’s sick.”

He stopped jumping immediately and a look of genuine concern crossed his little face. “But- but it’s Christmas! She can’t be sick on Christmas!”

“I can’t help it, dumb dumb,” you grumbled, leaning over Tommy’s arm and pushing at Finn’s shoulder. The man rolled his eyes before standing to his feet, taking you with him and perching you on his hip the moment Finn made to shove back.

“She okay?” Arthur asked as he walked towards him. “You okay, sweet girl?” He reached a hand over to brush a few straggles of hair from your hot forehead and stroked a thumb across your cheek. You nodded with a yawn before resting back against your brother, who waited for Finn and Arthur to join him before moving to walk down the stairs.

As expected, Polly was curled up in her night robe on the couch in the living room, sipping daintily on a cup of hot coffee, one of John’s children cuddled up next to her. The other three were sat around the Christmas tree in the corner of the room, bouncing on their knees and getting curious hands batted away by John from the presents underneath the greenery. As Tommy reached the bottom of the stairs, Ada was just walking out of the kitchen with her own mug, and she smiled widely when she saw both her younger siblings, reaching a hand out for Finn and rushing with him into the living room as Arthur and Tommy followed slowly behind, you in the latter’s arms.

“Merry fucking Christmas!” Arthur laughed while he walked into the room, throwing his arms out and immediately becoming assaulted by John’s kids. Tommy followed in a little quieter, keeping his arms locked around you and making his way immediately over to Polly.

“Hey, Katie,” he said softly, nudging his niece next to Polly, “why don’t you start setting out the presents in piles for your siblings and Finn and Y/N, eh?” Thankfully, she nodded happily, leaping off the seat and giving him room to sit down and arrange you comfortably on his lap. Polly kept watchful eyes on the both of you.

“Y/N, darling,” she said after a while of looking thoughtfully at you, “you do know it’s Christmas, yes?”

She smiled softly at your little nod and Tommy bent his head to press a kiss to your hot cheek. “She’s not feeling it this morning. Just a little fever, I think,” he told her, and she rose both eyebrows.

“Yeah, I could’ve told you that. First time in ten years I haven’t seen you bouncing around the place come Christmas morning. If I’d have known you weren’t well, I wouldn’t have gotten up so early.” A teasing glint sparkled in her eye as she reached over to gently tickle you under your chin, and you smiled, cuddling closer into your brother’s chest. She took another drink from her mug before calling out to silence the loud and excited chatter which had begun to echo around the room. “Alright, children! I’m talking to you, too, John!” Tommy chuckled at the small giggle that produced from you, leaning back in the chair. Your little arms entwined around his torso and he placed one hand on the back of your head while the other went to rub between your shoulders.

“Here, Y/N.” He looked up at his niece, who was holding out a brown parcel. “It’s from my dad.”

“There we go, little one,” Tommy said, “first present of Christmas. Thank you, Katie.” He took the parcel from the little girl and rearranged you on his lap so you were able to open it while still leaning against his chest. He glanced over at John, who was busy helping the youngest of his children not wreck the room with wrapping paper. He and his brothers typically shared with each other what they were buying for their youngest two, but now that he thought about it, John had kept his secret this year. Frowning, yet not in concern – at least he hoped. You could never be too sure with John Shelby – he craned his head a little to watch you open the box.

“Oi,” he heard John from across the room, “fucking sit down and let’s watch Y/N open her present, yeah? Come on, kids. Sit.”

You reached up to rub your eyes and unconsciously fell back against Tommy’s chest, who had since slumped down in his chair. He let out a little noise as you did so, but quickly adjusted to the new seating arrangement, tucking your head under his chin and loosely wrapping his arms around you. “What-” He glanced down as the tiny exclamation left your lips. “John,” you said confusedly, “I’m not a dog!”

John laughed and stood to his feet. “You sure, pup?” He ruffled your hair and you pushed his hand away before sneezing.

Ada craned her neck to see. “Seriously?” she asked with a frown. “You bought her a dog collar for Christmas? I mean, Finn would’ve been fine with one of those, but- hey! Don’t fucking push your sister, you little shit!” She shoved her younger brother over in irritation, despite the grin on her face.

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed together and he took the small black collar out of your hands. A sick sort of feeling settled in his stomach and he turned – now concerned – blue eyes up at his brother. He wouldn’t… would he? “John,” he started, in the firmest tone possible.

John nodded, a toothy grin gracing his lips. “Yeah?”

His stare darkened. “You do know you don’t live in this house anymore, right?”

“’Course.”

“And that this house, that you don’t live in, belongs to me? And your aunt?” He nodded towards Polly, who was sipping her tea quietly on her side of the couch. A double-take was needed entirely when he noticed she was smiling, and he realised with a flutter of butterflies in his chest that she was in on it. He rolled his eyes and tossed the collar across the couch with a huff before dragging both hands down his face. “We’re not having a fucking dog in this house.”

Your eyes lit up like the lights on the Christmas tree. “A dog? We’re getting a dog?”

“Hell yeah, we are!” John said, clapping his hands and immediately setting his children off into excited giggles. “Curly knows a man whose dog had pups a few weeks ago, and he’s bringing them ‘round later today for you to pick one out.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Merry Christmas, baby girl.”

Head in his hands, Tommy groaned.

“Never had a dog in my life!” Arthur said with a grin before swinging one of his nieces up and onto his shoulders. He chuckled at Tommy’s utterly depleted look. “Oh, come off it, Tom. Look! Look at our little sister! She’s got a fever yet she’s still all smiles!”

You giggled at his words. True, you still felt hot and completely tired, but the prospect of introducing a puppy into the family was absolutely amazing for any child. You were, of course, no different. The only reason you’d never had a dog before could be thinned down to one word: Tommy.

You turned around in said man’s lap, giggling madly. “It’s just a puppy, Tom.”

He peeked at you through the small gap between two of his fingers. “A puppy I’m gonna end up looking after.”

“Oh, shut it, you,” Polly said, kicking his leg. “I live here, too, you know, and I agreed to it. I told John not to tell you because I knew you’d say no.”

“And what’s to stop me from saying no now?” Tommy asked, dropping his hands and raising an eyebrow at his aunt.

Polly tutted. She leaned forward, pressed a kiss to her nephew’s forehead, and then stood up to pour herself another drink. “That little girl’s face,” she told him simply.

Tommy turned his attention to you, and the moment he saw you, teary-eyed and snotty-nosed but still wearing a toothy smile and chatting excitedly to John’s kids and Finn, he sighed in defeat and gently grabbed you, pulling you towards him in a hug. “You’re picking up its shit and giving it its baths and taking it for its walks, alright? I don’t want a thing to do with it, Y/N.”

You nodded against his chest. “Promise.”

“I give him two days,” Ada whispered to Polly as she passed, “and he’ll be all over that puppy like it’s his baby.”

Of course, Tommy would never admit that, two days later, his sister’s words had come to pass, but… well. The puppy was pretty adorable.

Peaky Masterpost

[darling-drag-brainrot]

Oh golly gee, did I finish my first proper fanfic? Yes!!! Maybe you should read it 😳😳😳

It’s Lemonyanka/Lemyanka of course because I will look for any excuse to think about and talk about both Lemon and Priyanka because I adore them 💖

Also I’ll just post the whole thing here on Tumblr as well <3

“You know my name?” The girl at the counter said, expression awestruck, all wide eyes and raised brows, “How? Are you a mind reader or something? A psychic? Oh my god- you’re like Miss Cleo! Here tell me- what’s my favourite color? Oh wait no- what was the name of my first dog? Wait no- nevermind- how about- when am I gonna die?”

“Uhhh I don’t think I can answer any of those questions. But you seem healthy… so I’d say you’re not gonna die for another like fifty years. I’m not a psychic or anything though so don’t take my word on that. Your name is literally just written on your shirt.” Lemon said, motioning to the nametag with Priyanka scrawled messily on it that the other girl wore on her cream colored apron, “Nice name though. I’m Lemon. Now about that latte...”

Priyanka seemed to ignore Lemon’s comment on the latte, snickering to herself before she asked, “Lemon? Like the fruit? Are you sour too Lemon? You seem sour today. What’s the matter Lemon? Need some sugar to make you into lemonade?” Priyanka winked flirtatiously before continuing with, “Cause I can give you some sugar if you want. Wink wink.”

“Oh my god can you please just hand me my drink now?” Lemon demanded, pressing a hand to her temple in exasperation, “I can’t keep playing twenty questions with you, I actually have places to be.”

Lemon should have simply kept her mouth shut, because Priyanka seemed even more excited now, bombarding Lemon with way too many questions, “Oh? Where do you have to be? You busy? Why? Where? For how long? What’s keeping my Lemondra occupied today?”

“I have dance class.” Lemon said with a sigh, realizing that she probably wasn’t going to get her drink until she dealt with the other woman’s interrogation, “And I didn’t sleep much last night so I need a coffee to wake me up.”

“Oh you didn’t sleep?” Priyanka began to wiggle her eyebrows, “You a busy bitch? Spent time with your boyfriend all night or something?”

Lemon scrunched up her nose at the concept, “Ewww no.”

“Ah, so you were spending your evening with a lovely lady then? I get that, you have fun?”

“What? No- I’m single. I was up all night doing an essay for one of my classes.”

“Single?”

Priyanka leaned closer at this, practically climbing over the counter between them. She really wasn’t subtle at all, was she?

“Yeah, single. Now if you’d actually listen to me, I’d love a single cup of coffee.”

“Maybe. Eventually… But Lemondra, when you say you’re single are you like- looking for a man or more like- a fun super cool barista chick to spend time with?”

Lemon didn’t respond, rolling her eyes before she lifted her wrist to display a small bracelet in the colors of the lesbian flag.

“Oh? So darling Lemon does like women? I guessed correctly after all! Maybe I’m the mind reader then!” She covered her mouth, “Maybe I’m Miss Cleo! But you like women? I’m women! Do you like meeeee?”

Dear lord, Lemon just wanted her coffee.

“Yeah, sure, I like you. Can I have my coffee now? And a slice of cake as well?”

Priyanka opened her mouth to say something and Lemon quickly pressed a finger to her lips.

“I don’t need to hear it. Cake please?”

Priyanka nodded, rolling her eyes as she silently went and grabbed a piece of cake, putting it in a to-go container before handing it to Lemon.

“So,” She said, a dumb smirk crawling onto her face, “You like cake huh? I could go for some lemon cake myself actually.” Then she finger gunned in Lemon’s direction.

Why had God forsaken her? All Lemon wanted was some coffee and a snack, not whatever the hell this was...

“Hahaha funny funny joke Priyanka, please, I am begging for my coffee at this point.”

Priyanka finally seemed to relent, sighing dramatically before she asked, “What did you want again?”

“Latte please, two shots of espresso.”

“Got it.” And then Priyanka turned around and got started, and in less than a minute Lemon was standing there with a steaming cup of coffee being pressed into her hands.

“That’s it?” She said, voice a little too loud for so early in the morning, “All your interrogating for a coffee that took you less than a minute to make?”

“Yep.” Priyanka said, eyes bright and mischievous, “That’ll be five dollars please.”

Lemon handed Priyanka a ten dollar bill, grabbing her slice of cake as well before she made her way to the door, calling behind her, “Keep the change.”

As she entered her dance studio minutes later, coffee nearly finished, she moved to sit down and wait for her teacher to arrive. Now a little more awake, she was able to process the events of the morning with a bit more clarity. And as she looked at her cup, she noticed a string of numbers in surprisingly neat handwriting near the bottom alongside the message: Come again doll~

When had Priyanka done that?

Lemon decided not to think about the logistics of it all- instead opting to finish her cake as she sat- before she pulled out her phone and put the number into her contacts. She’d text Priyanka later she supposed. The girl had been beyond annoying, but in a surprisingly cute, endearing way. And Lemon was never one to turn down phone numbers from beautiful girls anyway.

After class Lemon made her way back towards her dorm, deciding on a whim, to stop by the cafe. She could use a snack, and maybe- just maybe- she wanted to see Priyanka again.

“Lemondra! You came back to see me!” Priyanka squealed the second she spotted Lemon, apparently choosing to ignore the fact that it was two in the afternoon and there were several people in line who needed their drinks.

As Lemon waited for her turn she noticed how efficient and quick Priyanka was. She could get someone’s order, make it, and have them out the door in what seemed like seconds- though was honestly closer to a minute or two each. It was impressive.

Though of course Priyanka seemed to quickly forget her own barista version of superspeed, as the second Lemon came up to the register she was grinning like the Cheshire Cat, clearly in no rush to take Lemon’s order.

“You look ravishing Lemondra, here for more coffee? Or more cake? I mean, I have plenty of cake to serve you- if you catch my drift.”

“Drift caught.” Lemon deadpanned, before breaking into a small smile, “But I’ll just have a poppy seed muffin. I mainly came by to chat.”

“Awww so you saw my message? You liked it? You wanted you some more Priyanka?”

“Admittedly yes, though I was curious what your backup plan was supposed to be if I just ignored your message. Or what if I hadn’t even noticed it?”

Priyanka shrugged, “Didn’t have a backup plan. I knew it would work, everyone wants a piece of this cake.” she laughed, pointing towards the display case of cakes, “Both what I got, and what we sell.”

“I see.” Lemon said, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation, “Well I guess you weren’t wrong. Your cake is exceedingly nice… and what you sell ain’t half bad either.”

Priyanka let out a loud cackle, bending over at the waist to pound her fist into the countertop, “Yes! Fuck yes! You’re my kinda girl Lemondra, I fucking love you.”

Lemon raised an eyebrow, smirking as she said, “Aren’t you supposed to say that a little later down the line? Come on bitch, we haven’t even had our first date yet.”

“Oh god! You’re right,” Priyanka said with an over dramatic gasp, “Here- we can go on a date the second my shift is up, then I can confess my undying immortal love to you. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.” Lemon said, “When’s your shift done?”

Priyanka didn’t answer immediately, turning to grab a poppy seed muffin from beside her before she was handing it to Lemon with a wink.

“Gimme two dollars and fifty cents, then I can clock out. I’ve served my time in this coffee scented hellhole, time to blow your mind by taking you on the best date in the whole goddamn world.”

Lemon handed Priyanka another five dollar bill, “Well then keep the change and let’s go bitch, I wanna get this date started! I’m ready to have my mind absolutely blown.”

“Oh trust me,” Priyanka said with a cocky grin, taking off her apron and name tag before she was hopping over the counter, “You’ll never be able to look at dates the same after this. It’ll be life changing bitch.”

Lemon couldn’t help but laugh, “Sure, I can’t wait then- I’m assuming you’ll be leading the way?”

“Of course babe, trust me.” Priyanka suddenly turned around to face the counter, yelling with far too much enthusiasm, “Ilona get out here and do your fucking job, I’m clocking out!” She didn’t wait for a response, moving towards the exit before bowing low in front of Lemon, “Now, after you m’lady… or should I say… m’lemon?”

Lemon swatted at Priyanka playfully, taking her hand before she pushed the door open, “Don’t you ever say that again you bitch.”

Priyanka giggled, “What- m’lemon doesn’t like the pet name? I don’t see the problem.”

Lemon was about to respond, ready to explain to Priyanka why m’lemon as a nickname was absolutely awful- but before she could she was cut off by a sarcastic, “Thanks for the heads up Priyanka, I love the last minute notice- ya know I’m not being paid to step in and handle the place myself whenever you wanna go on dates or whatever?”

Lemon blushed as she turned to see another woman behind the counter, an annoyed look on her face as she stared Priyanka down.

“You aren’t being paid to sit in the backroom on your phone either Ilona, but you don’t hear me complaining about it.” Priyanka said, more smugly playful than accusatory, “And we were just leaving. I’m taking m’lovely m’lemon out on a date. Don’t wait up.”

“It’s just Lemon.” Lemon supplied, though neither woman seemed to listen to her.

“Well take your m’lemon out the door and go make out or whatever somewhere else- somewhere far, far away from here.”

Lemon quickly grabbed Priyanka’s hand, pulling her through the door and to the street, calling out an apologetic, “We’re leaving, don’t worry!” over her shoulder.

Priyanka stayed silent for a moment, deliberating it seemed before she began to lead them down the street- a comfortable silence between them as they walked. It was nice… especially with Priyanka seemingly lost in her own thoughts… not speaking at all. Lovely.

“Wow,” Priyanka finally said, voice full of shock, which made Lemon look up at her curiously, “I can’t believe this.”

Priyanka lifted up their intertwined hands, shaking her head solemnly before she said, “Already holding hands with me. Jesus Christ Lemondra, what kind of hussy do you think I am? At least put on some protection before we do this next time- I don’t wanna get your cooties.”

Lemon snorted out a laugh, goddamn Priyanka and her ability to make anything funny, “You’d love to get my cooties.”

“Mmmm maybe I would Lemondra,” she said, stopping in her tracks to bring the back of Lemon’s hand up to her lips, kissing her skin softly.

It was kind of romantic if you asked Lemon, and she felt her heart melt a bit in her chest at the gesture, though the moment was quickly disrupted by Priyanka saying, “Hmmm… not as sour as I was expecting.”

This caused Lemon to raise an eyebrow, “Why would my skin be sour-?” Then it hit her. Another stupid joke about her name.

“Alright fuck you,” Lemon said as Priyanka broke out into cackling hyena laughter, “I swear to god if you make anymore jokes about me being named Lemon I will actually end you.”

Priyanka nodded, making a very serious, solemn face as she crossed her heart, “No more lemon jokes. Understood.”

“Thank you.” Lemon murmured, pressing a kiss to Priyanka’s cheek, “If you actually manage to keep your mouth shut maybe I’ll…” She tapped a finger against her chin in mock thought before she smirked, saying in a saccharine sweet faux innocent tone, “Maybe I’ll give you a treat after our date.”

Priyanka nodded even more enthusiastically than she had before, a bit red in the face, clearly picking up on Lemon’s thinly veiled innuendo.

Then, once more, she had to open her mouth, “Will the treat be lemon cake?”

[quarantinebreakup412081121]

Day 1: Long Story Short It Was The Wrong Guy (AGAIN)

After nearly a year of being miserable after my ex and I broke up, and about 8  overlapping months of attempting to date, I finally met someone.

He seemed genuinely nice.  He met me at my neighborhood park and we walked his dog, around and around and around for probably a couple hours.  We talked nonstop- about 90% of the conversation was about our dogs.  We left and he hugged me goodbye (I turned to the side because- COVID- and I wasn’t expecting it... but it turns out he was vaccinated already) and said we’d do it again.

The next time he came to my house, met my dogs, and we walked his dog around my neighborhood. My dogs aren’t up for more than about a half a mile walk, so they stayed at home.  We talked and talked, we ended up back at the house before we were finished, so we re-walked half of the route, then walked part of the neighborhood beside mine.  By the time we got back, we still weren’t finished talking, but it was getting late.  We attempted the hug again.  He was vaccinated, I was going to be vaccinated the next month.  His dog lunged when we were going in for the hug and it ended up being kind of a 101 Dalmatians, tangled hug moment.  It was funny and a but awkward, but definitely memorable.

He said we’d do it again.

Then he asked me to go to his apartment so he could cook for me; he called it a date.  It was a little fast, but I made the hour long drive and went over for shrimp and fake meat tacos.  We also watched a movie.  It was nice.  He kissed me on the way out.  It was sweet.  I wasn’t sure that I wanted it to happen so soon, but I left with butterflies.

The next few dates alternated between him coming here to do outdoorsy things and me going to his apartment for a meal and a movie.  It was beginning to feel like a real relationship.

Over the next 5 months, he introduced me to all of his friends and we went to game nights together, coordinated to play video games with his friends when I went over, attended his friend’s post elopement wedding party, and he had me sign the photo matte that they had in place of a guest book.  It felt real, it felt solid, it felt like it would be long term and like he really cared about me.  It felt like the opposite of what I had with my ex.

He had me meet his dad.  He came over and met my family.  He said he’d go to Disney with me and he asked me to go skiing with him and his family.  He said he loved the beach and that it was his favorite place to go- so I anticipated multiple beach trips over the summer.  He listened to Taylor Swift with me, we watched dumb movies together, went grocery shopping and made Target runs together- aka “couple shit” as he called it.  I loved it.  I never got to do everyday couple activities with my ex.  He’d cook for me, I’d cook for him, he’d make random Taco Bell stops for me and he knew my order.

A few weeks ago, I finally decided to open up to him about some of my anxiety and worries.  I thought that the person I’d gotten to know over the last few months would be a person I could talk to and be real with- something I could never do with my ex unless I wanted to be judged and then ignored about it.  He listened, and attempted to offer a helpful response- which wasn’t really helpful, but he TRIED.  That was much more than I’d ever gotten from my ex.  A few days later, I went over to his apartment for the night.  We had dinner, it was off.  The conversation was off.  The movie was uncomfortable- like we were just sitting through it to get it over with.  He went to bed early but I was so wide awake that I sat in the living room playing on my phone and watching the storm outside for another 3 or 4 hours so I wouldn’t toss and turn in bed and keep him up sine he had to work in the morning.  In the morning, I had to drive home at 7am on only a few hours of sleep. I was cranky from that and the way the previous evening had panned out.

I laid in bed for a bit and snuggled his dog.  She’s so sweet.  She loves me and I love her-- so do my boys.  I laid there thinking “this feels like it might be the last time I ever see her...  so I just scratched her head and took a photo to remember the moment.

The goodbye was awkward, and I texted him when I got home and apologized for acting weird the night before and that morning.  I told him things felt off for some reason and laid out some things that were on my mind.  I thought open communication would be a good thing and that it would help him to understand my headspace and show him that I felt comfortable enough with him to talk to him  about these things.

The next week, he avoided hanging out with me.  The week after that, same story.  I asked him to come to a concert with me on a Sunday night- he said he’d love to if it wasn’t on a Sunday.  Then I asked him about another concert on the following Tuesday night- I jokingly asked him to play hooky from work and come with me.  He said he couldn’t- but I understood that; it made sense. I went out of town for the weekend to visit my brother and he said that we’d plan time to get together once I returned.  I returned and he mentioned nothing about getting together.  I brought it up once and he didn’t acknowledge it, but he still talked to me, just a lot less than usual.

The conversations we were having sounded like repeats of previous conversations- and I honestly don’t know if he didn’t remember telling me some of those things, but he liked to partake in a beer or two or three... pretty frequently- so I’m not certain that some of the time he talked to me, he wasn’t 100% there.  But that wasn’t the point- he was just sending me pleasantries and fillers as texts. No real conversation.

I started getting worried because my mind went to the worst possibility.  He was checking out.  We were done- or almost done.  I asked him if we were good because it seemed like we weren’t.  He said he was good and that work was just really rough lately and he was basically working and sleeping all the time.  All of my worries melted away and I instantly felt a sense of relief-- I had been worrying for nothing!  So I asked him if he had time for an evening hangout on Friday or Saturday or a different night if those didn’t work.  I’d come to him and bring food and we could watch a movie and veg out for a bit.

That was last night.

This morning I woke up early to go to a sunflower field to take some fun summer photos.  With covid apparently flaring up again, I was trying to find safe summer activities to do before the season’s over.  Since I couldn’t get my guy to go with me to basically anything, I decided I’d do the things he didn’t want to do with me on my own and do the other things with him.  It wasn’t so much a compromise as it was me just learning to be okay with having someone who didn’t want to take part in activities with me.  My mom went with me an we got some gorgeous photos.  I kept an eye on my phone expecting him to reply to my hangout request, because once he said yes- I’d also ask him to go with me to visit my brother in a couple weeks an have a fun beach weekend.

On the way home, I went through the drive thru at the bank and while I was waiting, I noticed my phone blinking.

It was a text.  From him.

I don’t think we’re a good match for each other.  There has been numerous occasions where you’ve said or done something (even in the name of “joking”) that hasn’t sat right with me.  I’m sure there have been times you felt the same about me as well.  I don’t want to waste any more of your time either.  I hope you find a man who is a better match for you.

First of all, what the actual fuck.  Secondly, there *have* been numerous occasions.  Third- I have no idea what I said or did...  Best I can muster is that since I’m pro equal rights and pretty liberal, maybe it came across as offensive because I think he has family members who are... trump-esque.  I barely brought up politics because I didn’t want to make things weird.  He is a cop and I never made jokes unless he did first (he’d regularly joke about cop stuff and talk about how he isn’t a typical cop and how he doesn’t like hanging out with other cops or doing cop stuff or even talking about cop stuff outside of work.)  He gave me a whole spiel about he’s not a “cop cop” when we first met, like he was trying to sell himself to me-- which  he didn’t need to do, but I thought it was cute.

I asked him if we could talk for a few minutes later in the day because I wasn’t understanding what was happening.  I told him that I wasn’t trying to change his feelings about anything, but I wanted to talk.  He totally blindsided me.

He never responded.

It’s basically midnight and he’s had most of the day to respond.  Five months and he can’t even give me an explanation.

This is what I get for trying to trust people.

Tomorrow- or later tonight- I’m sending one last text and blocking him.  He knew that’s how my ex ended things and how insensitive it was and how wrong it was.  We had this conversation.  And after five months, he just strings me along for the last few months and then ends things with a text.  So goddamn insensitive.

I know I’m better off without someone like him in my life, but this hurts so much more than the last time because at least my first ex was a jerk and it was on brand for him.  This one... my second ex... he was supposed to be better than this.  He was supposed to be nice.  He wasn’t supposed to hurt me, not like this.

[lovelymaybankk]

soulmate - kiara carrera

synopsis - ‘string of fate’, where in which everybody has a red string wrapped around their pinky, only you and your soulmate can see it. if your close, its loose, and if your far away its tight

8. ‘i think you might be my soulmate’ 

a/n - mm i love kie. and reader is a pogue in this :p. also ik this is bad but i wanted to post <3

t/w - smoking

w/c - 1,544 

as long as y/n can remember, the string around her pinky has been somewhat loose. her friends always spoke about how tight their string was, or how incredibly loose it was. while hers was average. unnoticeable most of the time, in fact some days she almost forgot that it was there. y/n never worried about finding her soulmate, i mean, if it was loose she was bound to find them some day.

kiara, on the other hard, hated that it was loose. when she could start remembering things, she had begun her search. obviously they were close enough, why weren’t they looking for her?! the pogues constantly teased her for getting so flustered about not being able to find her soulmate, even though neither jj or pope had found theirs either.

-

sunday afternoon was when everything started again. y/n woke up, sprawled across the bed she had slept in many times. closing her eyes again, she groaned at a sudden tug on her finger. she sat up slowly, rubbing her head before she got another tug. her string was where it normally was, feeling a bit more tight than usual. sliding off of the purple bed sheets, y/n made her way through the large house, bounding down the stairs. 

“good morning,” y/n yawned, opening the fridge as she spoke to her mother who sat at the table.

“good morning, my love.” y/n’s mom sipped the hot coffee. “today, why don’t you go down to the beach? i think sarah will be there.” 

y/n nodded at the mention of the blonde, grabbing an apple from one of the fridge drawers. she made her way back upstairs, eating the apple. looking at the red string on her pinky, her eyebrows furrowed. she decided to give a slight tug on her pinky, getting one back almost immediately. a slight grin on her face, she changed from the pajamas she wore into a more beach-ready outfit.

-

kiara was already wide awake before she got the tug. jj and pope were fighting about who knows what, the group sitting inside the chateau. 

“pope, listen.” jj hushed, “we all know that tigers literally are not real. have you seen one in the wild?”

kie scoffed, rolling her eyes. she held jj’s juul between her fingers, holding it up to her lips. she inhaled the vapor, blowing out smoothly. she dropped the dainty box as her hand got tugged, making her gasp. 

“what happened?” sarah sat up from her position of laying on john b’s chest. 

“i got a tug,” kiara muttered, tugging back quickly. no response. “fuck.” she huffed, falling backwards onto the couch. 

“hey, its fine. you’ll find him,” pope patted kiara’s shoulder, smiling gently at her. “or her, not saying anything.” he put his hands up after he spoke, noticing the face kiara made.

“no offence, but i don’t think i could handle another boy in this group.” kiara joked, sitting up and grinning jokingly at everybody around her.

“wow, rude.” john b mocked being offended, hand over his chest. sarah slapped him with an eye roll, laying back down.

“none of us could.” the blonde girl sided with kiara, who had a smug look on her face. “anyway, before this becomes a fight. who want’s to go to the beach today? i’m supposed to be meeting one of my really old friends there.” 

jj perked up at the sound of there being another person there, grinning. “is she hot?” 

sarah gagged, rolling her eyes. “drop dead, maybank.”

pope rolled his eyes, looking at his pinky as kiara had done and running his fingers over the string. kiara glanced at him, picking up the juul she had previously dropped and bringing it to her lips as she watched him. “whats on your mind, hun?” she directed the question to the boy, who looked at her and shrugged.

“ah, nothing.” pope covered his uneasy face with a grin. “beach? sarah, does your friend surf?” 

sarah thought for a moment before nodding, pulling her phone out of her back pocket. “yeah. i’ll tell her to bring her board, even though i don’t really surf myself.” she snorted, unlocking the phone and texting the girl.

-

the pogues piled into the van, starting their drive towards the public beach. not to kiara’s notice, the string begun to get increasingly more loose as she neared the sandy safe-haven. they all joked around, music blasting out of the windows. it was a typical summer day, surfboards piled onto the roof of the van being held down by a poor bungee wire.

the twinkie rolled to a slow stop outside of the beach, music turning down. jj wrapped his arm around kiara’s shoulders, out stretching his hand as he explained the positives of smoking weed.

“listen, kie.” jj started, making the girl roll her eyes. “im just saying, if you smoke more weed, you won’t worry about your dumb soulmate anymore. you jus’ forget.” he nodded his head as he spoke, flinging the door open and sliding out. he drug kie behind him, who groaned in pain at the uncomfortable position. 

reminding kiara of her soulmate, she glanced down at her pinky. loose. she stopped moving and responding to the boy, her other hand going to touch the string. she rolled it between her fingers, a soft smile on her face. “they’re close.” she muttered, catching sarah’s attention.

sarah squealed at her friend, grabbing her hand and hugging her. “we’ll find them today. okay? me and, even y/n can help! holy shit, it’s perfect. we’ll have six people looking.” she reassured kiara, who held a goofy grin on her face.

as if on time, a black jeep rolled in behind the group. sarah pulled out of the hug with kiara, smiling at her one more time before leaving the embrace fully. she turned and faced the car, watching the door swing open before running over. 

y/n slid out of the car, immediately getting pulled into a tight hug. “jeez, sarah okay.” she laughed, wrapping her arms around her. “i get it’s been a while, but jeez.” pulling out of the hug, the two girls smiled at each other. clearing her throat, y/n motioned to the group behind sarah.

as if a light bulb turned on in sarah’s head, she yelled an “oh yeah!”

y/n grinned at her, shaking her head softly. “ok y/n, these are the pogues. thats jj, pope, kiara, and my boyfriend john b.” sarah pointed to everyone of them, y/n nodding and waving to each.

y/n and kiara held eye contact for a while, getting a slight cough from sarah. “guys?” sarah tried to get their attention, but they seemed to be in a trance.

y/n’s fist went into a ball, feeling the string in her fingers slide up and down her pinky. kiara’s eyes filled up with tears, rubbing them before any could fall. they took a step towards each other at a slow pace before kiara moved closer. 

“i think you might be my soulmate.” kiara spoke softly, grinning ear to ear. it was as if nobody else was around them in that moment, their only focus being on each other. y/n said nothing in response except pull kiara into a tight hug, letting out a breath she didn’t know what was holding.

kiara’s eyes again filled with tears, shutting them quickly with a soft smile. the air surrounding the two was warm, filled with love. 

jj took them out of their moment, clearing his throat softly. “so? soulmates?” he asked softly, for once, smiling softly. 

y/n and kiara pulled out of the hug after a few minutes, y/n holding her at arms length. they ignored jj’s question for the moment, just looking at each other and examining the others features.

“yeah.” y/n spoke up, squeezing kiara’s shoulder before letting go of her. “wow. i wasn’t ready for that..” she joked, getting a giggle from kiara who silently agreed. pulling kiara under her arm, y/n grinned at the rest of the group. “so, anyway. hi. im y/n.”

john b smiled, pulling sarah close in a similar way. “hey y/n. welcome to the pogues.” he looked down at sarah, who was staring at kiara and y/n with pure love.

“oh my god, my two best friend’s are soulmates. i canttt!!” sarah jumped up and down out of pure excitement, looking at john b with a huge smile. 

pope watched the exchange in silence, a small smile on his face. jj walked close to him, wrapping his arm around the boy. “now we,” jj motioned to the two of them, “gotta find our soulmates.” pope rolled his eyes, shaking jj off of him.

“oh yeah.” pope did the handshake with jj, who grinned. “ok, can we surf now?” pope questioned, making the pogues laugh softly.

kiara and y/n looked at each other at the same time, the same small smile on both of their faces. y/n’s eyes went from kiara’s lips back to her eyes, smile turning into a cheeky grin. kiara quietly chuckled at the grin, closing the small gap between them with a light kiss. 

-

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@jjtheangel​ @thatsonobx​ (if you want to be added to my taglist for anything message me :) )

[softlighter]

The Roommate

written for @sparrowhawk-station‘s shapeshifter Blake prompt!  Hope you enjoy.  <3

Also posted as “The Roommate” on ao3.

“Yeah, I just found her,” Yang said into her Scroll.  

“Where?” Weiss asked, distaste clear in her voice.  “Off the street?”

“She was on my front porch!”

“That cannot be sanitary.”

“We gave her a bath at the vet’s,” Yang huffed.  The female cat she had dumbed Bumblebee for her dark black fur and bright gold eyes was currently napping on the arm of her couch.  Yang ran her fingers through her hair.  “And she got all her shots, and she’s not chipped, and if I didn’t take her in, she was getting sent to the kill shelter.  The kill shelter, Weiss!”

Weiss sighed through the phone.  “You’ve never even had a cat before!”

“There’s a first time for everything!” she chirped.  “I already got her food and a collar and a leash-”

“Yang.  She’s a cat.  You cannot walk a cat.”

“Watch me.”

Another sigh.  “You’re exhausting.”

“You’re not wrong,” she laughed.

A tight sigh.  “You know, when I said you needed a roommate, I didn’t mean the fluffy and furry kind.  I meant the people kind.”

“I don’t need a roommate,” she said automatically.  “It’s my house, Weiss, and it’s my life.  I’m fine.”

“You’re lonely.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated.  “And I’m not lonely!  I’m talking to you!”

“Yes, but you only talk to me, Ruby, and Penny-”

“And Jaune, and Pyrrha, and Ren, and Nora-”

“You need to get out more,” Weiss interrupted.  “We need to get you back on the dating scene.”  

It was Yang’s turn to sigh, and she curled a lock of her hair around her finger.  “No, we do not,” she said as calmly as she could manage.  “I’m happy, and I’m fine.  Just because you’re happy in a relationship doesn’t mean I would be happy in a relationship.”  Her heart ached, but she ignored it.  She didn’t have time for a relationship, and that was that.  “Also, aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“I’m the CEO, I do what I want,” Weiss sniffed.  Yang rolled her eyes, reclining deeper into her couch.  “But I do have a meeting in five minutes, so we’re going to have to make this quick.”  Weiss’s voice softened.  “I’m happy for you, Yang.”

Yang blew out a breath.  “Thanks, Weiss.”  She scratched Bumblebee’s furry head, who purred in her sleep.  It made Yang’s heart clench in the most pleasant way.  “And if I ever want to get back out there, you’re the first person I’d call, you know that.”

“I’m happily taken, thank you very much,” Weiss snarked.

“Don’t remind me,” Yang said, closing her eyes.  “I have no idea how those two sweethearts put up with you.”

“Because I’m a wonderful and very generous lover-”

“Gross, Weiss.  That’s my sister.”

She could hear Weiss cackling.  “Look, I have to go.  But I’ll be by later for dinner with Ruby and Penny.  We still good for six thirty?”

“Oh fuck, that’s tonight?”

“See you tonight, Yang.”  Weiss hung up before Yang could curse again.  She dropped her Scroll on the couch beside her and tilted her head back into the couch.  She eyed up Bumblebee, who was now awake and staring at her.  “We got a lot of work to do, Bee,” she said.  

Bumblebee meowed, and Yang sighed.  She held out her arm, and Bumblebee gracefully walked up her arm to place herself around Yang’s neck.  Yang stood up, her cat-scarf clinging to her as she moved.  “Wanna help me make dinner?” she asked.  Bumblebee meowed again, and Yang could feel the vibrations moving out from the feline and into Yang’s skin.  

They walked into the kitchen, and Bumblebee promptly leaped off of Yang to sit on the chair she had claimed earlier.  Miraculously, Yang hadn’t had to tell her to stay off the counters or the table.  Whoever had Bumblebee before her had trained her well.

Guilt twisted in her stomach as she studied her new cat.  Bumblebee was still malnourished and bruised from her last owner’s treatment.  Yang patted her cat’s head and gave her a smile as a silent apology.  Bumblebee purred, her head bopping against Yang’s hand.  She was soft, impossibly so.  Despite everything the cat had gone through, her fur hadn’t been matted, and Bumblebee was delightfully fuzzy.  

Yang nervously checked the clock and debated what to do for dinner.  Worst came to worst, she could order pizza for the four of them.  No one would complain about pizza, especially about the local pizzeria she ordered from at least once a month.  She checked her fridge and decided pizza was the way to go, even if Weiss would smirk about it.  

“Pizza it is, BeeBee,” she said.  Bumblebee meowed, daintily licking her paw.  She held herself impossibly regally, even though she was still injured.  

Yang had been surprised at how quickly the feline had warmed to her.  When Yang had first found her three days ago, she had been hissing and yowling.  Getting her to the vet had been a journey and a half and gotten her nothing but claw marks that still burned.  But she had looked into those golden eyes and known she couldn’t let the beautiful feline go to the kill shelter.  After that, it was almost like Bumblebee had known that Yang had saved her.  She wasn’t affectionate per se, but she wasn’t fighting her anymore and even let Yang pick her up.

In the past three days, Yang had taken to the cat like a moth to flame.  Bumblebee was a sweetheart when she wasn’t fighting Yang, and she loved it best when Bumblebee came to her and demanded pets, even if she asked for said pets at inopportune times.  Yang didn’t mind.  She needed a friend, even if she had told Weiss she didn’t.  

Weiss, Ruby, and Penny arrived just after pizza had been delivered.  “Kitty!” Penny cried out as greeting, immediately handing the wine she was holding off to Ruby before flapping her hands.  “Where’s the kitty?” 

Yang grinned.  “Come here, Bumblebee,” she said, crouching down to beckon the cat from underneath the table.  Bumblebee shrank away.  Yang cocked her head.  “Are you shy?” she asked.  “It’s okay, they’re just friends.”  Her voice was soft, and Bumblebee nervously stepped forward.  “Penny, come here, and hold your hand out.”

The redhead obliged, bending down beside Yang and tentatively holding her hand out with wide eyes.  Bumblebee looked to Yang, who nodded, before gently pressing her head to Penny’s hand.  Penny squealed, and Bumblebee shrunk back.  “No, I’m sorry!” Penny exclaimed softly.  “I just got excited!”

“She’s a little shy,” Yang said.  “She was hurt real bad before I got her.  I think she’s a little nervous around people.”  She started petting Bumblebee once more and smiled at her responding purr.  “But she’s a sweetheart.  Just be careful.”

Penny held out her hand once more, and Bumblebee bopped her hand.  “She’s so soft,” Penny marveled.  “I wish we could get a cat, but I don’t think Weiss could take all the fur getting everywhere.”  

Ruby giggled behind them, and Yang bit back a snort.  “We’re barely home, Penny,” Weiss said, clearly exhausted from already having this conversation.  “We don’t have the time to take care of a cat.”  

“You could get a fish?” Yang suggested.

Ruby clapped, and Weiss groaned.  “A fish would be delightful!” Penny declared, standing up and brushing her hands off on her skirt.  “We should get a fish.”

Weiss shot daggers at Yang, but Ruby just asked, “Where’s the food?”

“Let’s wash our hands and head into the kitchen,” she said, dragging Penny away from Bumblebee.  

“I thought you said she was clean,” Weiss asked warily.

“You should always wash your hands before dinner,” Yang said, rubbing her hands together underneath the faucet.  Weiss wrinkled her nose, and Yang stuck her tongue out at her.  “Lighten up, Weiss.  Bumblebee’s a good cat.”

“You’ve had her for three days,” Weiss said curtly.  

“Best three days of my life!” she shot back as she sat down and helped herself to a slice of pizza.  She moaned around the cheesy bread, suddenly aware of how hungry she was.  She swallowed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.  “How was everyone’s day?” she asked, taking a sip of her water.

“It was a pretty slow day today,” Penny said.  “No calls for me, thankfully!”  Penny may be small, but she was the strongest firefighter in all of Vale.  There had been a competition, and Penny had blown her competitors out of the water.  

“That’s good that it was a quiet day.  My meetings went well,” Weiss said.  “They were a complete headache, but they went well at least.  We’re moving ahead on some new technology, which should be a real asset.  What about you, Ruby?”

“I’m heading to the restaurant later, but I spent most of the day working on new recipes,” her sister said.  “I can’t quite get the spices right, but I’m getting close.”  Ruby’s eyes flicked to her.  “What about you, Yang?  What did you do today?”

“Hung with BeeBee,” she said casually.  “Nothing much.”

Penny, Weiss, and Ruby managed to exchange a look, which Yang still marveled at their ability to do so, even when it grated on her.  “Did you go to physical therapy today?” Penny asked gently, but that wasn’t enough to soften the blow of her words.

“Nope,” she said too casually.  “I didn’t have an appointment today.  I usually go on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

“So did you go yesterday?” Weiss asked, raising an arched brow.

“Yes,” she gritted.  

“Good!” Ruby said, clapping.  “That’s really good, Yang.  How are you doing?”

She felt all of their gazes pointedly ignoring the elephant in the room and refusing to look at her right arm.  She clenched her fist as she folded her pizza in half and brought it to her mouth to buy herself time.  The metal of her hand creaked quietly, and she brought her arm back down to her lap to avoid dealing with their acute avoidance.  

“I’m doing good,” she said.  “Making progress.”  She hesitated, but added, “They think I’ll be good to go back to work in the fall.”  

“And do you want to go back to work?” Weiss asked.  

“I need to do something productive with my life,” she said tightly.  She gestured around.  “I’m going nuts doing nothing.”  She had spent far too many days lounging on the couch and moping about.  At least she was moving again, leaving the house again.  

“What’re you gonna do about Bumblebee when you go back to work?” Penny asked.  

Yang shrugged.  “She’s pretty self-sufficient.  She just needs me to feed her.”  Bumblebee was inclined to roam the house, but she did usually stay in the same room as Yang.  “I think she would be all too happy to get me out of the house and have it all to herself for a couple hours.”

“This is why you should have gotten a dog!” Ruby said.  “No offense to Bumblebee, but dogs are way more loyal!  They wait for you to come home!  They’re total sweethearts!”

“Yeah, but Bumblebee is cuter than any dog,” she pointed out.

Ruby gasped, holding a hand to her forehead and sagging against Penny, who merely giggled at her girlfriend.  “Don’t let Zwei hear you say that!” her sister warned.  “He’ll never forgive you.”

Yang rolled her eyes, but she was glad the conversation had drifted from her to a safer topic.  Bumblebee curled around her ankles, purring.  Yang smiled and leaned down to scratch the top of her head.  “Zwei loves me, and so does Bumblebee,” she said.  “All animals love me.”

Weiss snorted.  “I haven’t forgotten about that bird that pooped on you,” she said.

“That was six years ago!” she said.  Bumblebee pulled closer to her ankle, and Yang lowered her voice.  “And that was one bird, ages ago.”  Bumblebee purred again, nuzzling her ankle once more.  Her cat still wasn’t used to loud noises, she had noticed, and it was hard to remember to keep her usually loud voice quieter, but she was trying.  

“It shat in your hair.  I’m never letting you live that down,” Weiss smirked.

Yang groaned.  “Six.  Years.  Ago.  And don’t remind me,” she said, pulling her hair over her shoulder in a comforting motion.  “My hair didn’t deserve that.”

The table broke out in laughter, and a smile tugged at her lips.  Life was good.  Life was really good.  

~~~

She woke up to tiny cries.  Yang sat up, instantly moving for Bumblebee who was yowling at the edge of her bed.  Yang scooped her up in her arms and began shushing her, gently stroking her fuzzy head.  “It’s okay,” she breathed.  “It’s all okay.”

Bumblebee was shaking in her hands and still yowling at the top of her tiny lungs.  She was trying to scratch Yang, but it was more out of panic than out of malice.  “It’s okay,” she said.  “I got you now.  No one’s gonna hurt you now.  I promise.”  She kept stroking her head until her cries died down and Bumblebee’s tiny body wasn’t shaking half so badly.  Yang gently laid Bumblebee in her lap and watched as she curled up.

Her throat was thick, and she whispered, “It’s okay.  I get nightmares too,” she whispered.  Bumblebee meowed, as if she was trying to respond.  Yang chuckled.  “They’re the worst, aren’t that?” 

Bright wide gold eyes looked up at her, catching the moonlight.  A small nod of that fuzzy head.  Yang gave her cat a half-smile.  “I’m sorry someone hurt you,” she said.  Bumblebee nuzzled her hand, but Yang continued.  “Someone hurt me, too.”  Her throat thickened, and she was acutely aware of the absent weight of her metal arm.  

Bumblebee stood on her hind legs to look Yang in the eyes.  “But we’re together now, and we’re not gonna let anyone hurt us ever again.  Aren’t we?”  Bumblebee nodded, as if she could understand.  Yang smiled.  “I’ll protect you, BeeBee.”  She held her cat tight to her chest and closed her eyes.  “I’ll protect you.  You don’t need to be afraid anymore.”  Bumblebee purred, and she gave Yang’s cheek a quick lick.  Yang laughed, wiping her cheek.  

“We should get some sleep,” she said.  “The nightmares can’t last forever.”  She hoped.  

But Bumblebee purred and nuzzled her cheek.  Yang let herself fall back against the mattress, still holding the dark cat.  “I’m a cuddler,” she warned.  Bumblebee simply purred again, settling down on the space of mattress in front of Yang’s chest.  “You can wake me up, though.  If you have nightmares.”  She yawned.  “I might wake you up with mine.”

Bumblebee cocked her head.  Yang just smiled tightly.  “But don’t worry, BeeBee.  I’ll take care of you.”  Gold eyes blinked at her, and that was the last thing Yang saw before she closed her eyes.  “I promise.  I’ll take care of you.”  She would protect Bumblebee.  She could do that much.  Even if she had lost her arm.  Even if she had lost herself for a while.

She could do that much.

~~~

Yang let out a grunt of frustration as she held the plank, sucking in her breath.  Thirty more seconds, according to her timer.  She could do another thirty seconds.  She gritted her teeth and forced herself to take a deep breath of air as she felt her shaking worsen.  Twenty seconds.  Fifteen.  Ten.

She collapsed to the ground with a groan.  “Fuck!” she spat, flopping onto her side.  Yang grabbed her Scroll and ended the timer with a sigh before placing it back on the floor beside her.  She would try again in a few minutes, but, for now, her core ached, and she needed a breather.  She needed a break.  

No, what she needed was her fucking body back.  What she needed was her strength back.  What she needed was herself back.

A fuzzy tail brushed her ankle, and Yang let out a sharp breath as Bumblebee came up to snuggle.  “You still like me, at least,” she muttered.  Bumblebee meowed, and a smile tugged at the corners of Yang’s mouth.  She sat up and started scratching behind her ears, just where she knew BeeBee liked it best.  

Bumblebee gave her wide eyes, as if asking Why wouldn’t I like you?  You feed me and blinked at her slowly.  Yang sighed, running a hand through her own hair.  “I’m not as strong as I used to be,” she explained.  Her chin wobbled.  “I’m weak.  And I need to get strong again.”

BeeBee meowed, her cute face scrunching up to bare her teeth.  Yang rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, Weiss says the same thing,” she said.  “But I want to feel comfortable in my skin again.  If that���s possible.”  She sighed, shoulders slumping.  Bumblebee pawed her arm and climbed up onto her shoulders.  Yang smiled as the feline nuzzled her neck.  “Thanks, BeeBee.”

She bent forward and stretched out her legs and back, Bumblebee still curled around her neck like a scarf as she moved.  Her lower back crackled and popped, but it felt better as she straightened up.  Her Scroll buzzed, and she carefully grabbed it as to not disturb Bumblebee too much as she answered the call.  “Hey, what’s up?”

“We got a fish!” Ruby announced.

Yang smiled, letting out a breath.  “Only took four months of arguing,” she teased.

“Shut it, Xiao Long!” Weiss called in the background.  

“His name is Barry the Beta Fish, and I love him very much,” Penny added.

“I can’t wait to meet him,” she said as BeeBee purred around her neck.  

“Do you want to come over later for dinner?” Ruby asked.  

Yang pretended to think for a moment.  “Are you cooking?”

“I will!” Ruby said.

“Then I’ll be there.  What time works?”

“How about five?”

“Sounds good to me.  I’ll see you then!”  Yang hung up and nuzzled Bumblebee as she pulled up her timer once more.  “Alright, BeeBee, let me get back to work,” she said, taking Bumblebee from around her neck and placing her on the floor.  Bumblebee hissed, but she strode off, tail waving in the air before settling down in front of Yang’s yoga mat.  Yang resumed her position and started the timer once more.

She forced a grin at BeeBee, who meowed in response.  Almost as if she was cheering her on.  It made Yang’s grin grow.  She adjusted her position and held her core tight, taking deep breaths.  She could do this.  She could definitely do this.

~~~

Yang unlocked her door, humming as she did.  She turned and closed it behind her as she took her shoes off and set them by the door.  She had left Ruby’s, Weiss’s, and Penny’s early because she had forgotten that she had to get up early for physical therapy.  Normally, she stayed until late, but the sun was still out, although it was setting.

She dropped her keys in the dish and strode into the kitchen.  Yang froze.  “Who the fuck are you?” she asked, voice shaking.  The dark hair woman digging in her fridge stilled at Yang’s voice.  “How did you get in here?”

The woman turned around, gold eyes wide.  “You’re not supposed to be home for at least another hour,” she said.  Her voice was a throaty rasp, as if she hadn’t spoken in ages.  

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” she demanded, ignoring how the woman knew her well enough to know her schedule.  “How did you get in here?”

The woman audibly swallowed.  She was shaking, Yang realized.  “I’m sorry,” she said.

Yang’s heart softened at her broken tone, but that didn’t stop the fear sparking through her.  She looked her up and down and checking for any weapons.  She was unarmed and, oddly, pantless.  Yang’s stomach clenched.  The woman was wearing her shirt.  “What the fuck?” she heard herself say.  

The woman’s throat bobbed.  There was a flash of light, and the woman was gone.  In her place sat Bumblebee, who was shaking.  Yang blinked, eyes burning from the light, but before she could get accustomed to it, the woman was back with another flash of light.  “I’m so sorry, Yang,” the woman croaked.

“What the actual fuck?”

The woman was shaking harder.  “I didn’t want you to find out like this,” she said.  Yang’s mouth was dry.  “I thought you wouldn’t be home for a while longer, and I was just so sick of having to drink out of a bowl, and I just wanted a cup of tea.  I’m sorry.”

Yang blinked.  “Are you my cat?”

The woman, or Bumblebee, tentatively nodded.  

“What the fuck?”  Bumblebee flinched, and Yang became distinctly aware of how loud she was speaking.  “I’m sorry, but what the fuck is going on?” she asked, lowering her voice slightly.  She was still angry, still confused, but she couldn’t unsee the woman’s winces in contrast with the way Bumblebee had shook whenever it got too loud.

“Maybe we should sit down,” Bumblebee said.

Yang silently took a seat at her kitchen table, never taking her eyes off of Bumblebee.  Bumblebee took a seat across from her.  “What the fuck is going on?” she asked again.  Her own voice was shaking, and she wasn’t quite sure why.  “What is happening?”

The woman took a deep breath.  “My name is Blake,” she said.  “I’m a shapeshifter.”

Yang’s mouth dried up.  “Alright.”  She nodded.  “Shapeshifters are real.  Alright.  That’s fine.  And apparently my cat is one.  This is totally fine.”  Panic edged her voice, but she nodded at the woman, Blake, to continue.

“I never meant to- I didn’t want to hurt you.”  

“Why the fuck were you pretending to be a cat?” she demanded.  “My cat?”

Blake took a deep breath.  “You saw how badly I was hurt,” she said.  Yang stilled as Blake continued.  “My ex-boyfriend beat me.  I had to get away from him, and I did the only thing I could.  So I shifted and ran away, and I ended up here.  I didn’t have a plan, I just needed to get away from him.  But I was in so much pain, and I wound up on your porch barely able to move.  And you took me in.”  Blake’s throat bobbed.

“You took me in, and you protected me, and you took care of me.”  Blake’s golden eyes flickered, so similar to Bumblebee’s and yet so different.  “I had planned on leaving once I was better, but you seemed to need a friend.”  Yang’s cheeks heated, although she wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or anger.  “And I wanted to repay you as best I could.”

“So you pretended to be my pet?”  Her stomach tightened.  “Did you understand me when I was speaking to you?”

Blake nodded, biting her lip.  “I did,” she said quietly.  

“And what?  Did you- Do you pity me?” she asked.

“I wanted to repay you!”  Blake rubbed her brow.  “You helped me, and I wanted to help you, and being Bumblebee seemed to help you.”

“What was your long term plan here?” she demanded.  “Just pretend to be a cat until you died?”

“Obviously, I didn’t have a long term plan!” Blake said.  “I just- You helped me  And I wanted to help you.”  

“I didn’t ask for your help,” she snarled.

Blake winced.  “I know.  And I never wanted to hurt you, Yang, I just- I didn’t know what to do.”  Her voice was pleading.  “I was scared.”

Yang faltered.  She took a deep breath and leaned back against her chair with a sigh.  “What do you want to do now?” she asked wearily.  “Because you don’t owe me anything, Blake.”

“But I do,” she said softly.  “You saved my life, Yang.  In ways more than one.”  Blake’s throat bobbed.  “And I’ll leave if you want me to.”

Yang looked up at her.  “You don’t have anywhere to go.”  It wasn’t a question, but Blake nodded.  Yang sighed.  “You can stay here,” she said.  “

Blake froze.  “What?”

She shrugged.  “You don’t have anywhere to go,” she repeated.  “And I have a guest room.  You can stay here and get back on your feet.”  Her throat thickened.  “You can be whatever you want.  Bumblebee, or you, or whatever, you can be a human or cat.  But you can stay here.”

“I can leave,” Blake said, but she was biting her lip.

“I’m not letting you go back on the street again,” she said.  “And you’ve already been living here for six months.”  She flexed her fingers.  “I can help you get back on your feet, and then you can do whatever you want.”

Blake nodded, but she looked ashamed.  “I’m sorry, Yang.”

Yang just shrugged.  “I’m going to bed,” she said flatly.  “I have physical therapy early tomorrow.”  She hesitated.  “Do me a favor?”

“Anything,” Blake said instantly.

“Don’t leave the house.  I don’t have a spare key to give you, and the locks are automatic.  If you get locked out, you’re locked out until I get back.”  She rubbed her temples.  “And I have some pjs for you.”

“Sorry about the shirt,” Blake said.  “I just didn’t want to walk around naked.”

“I get that,” she said awkwardly.  She stood up.  “I’ll put your stuff in the guest room.”

“Thank you, Yang.”

Yang just pursed her lips and nodded, all too aware of the awkwardness.  “Yup.  No problem,” she said.  She awkwardly walked out of the kitchen and closed the door to her room.

What the fuck was she going to do?

~~~

She woke up to the smell of bacon.  Her stomach grumbled, and she practically ran out of bed into the kitchen to see Blake cooking.  Somewhere, she had found an apron, and she was standing over a spitting pan and flipping pancakes.  “Oh, you’re awake,” Blake said, turning to face her.  “I wanted to surprise you.”

Yang blinked at her.  “You’re making me breakfast?” she asked slowly.  “You didn’t have to do that.”  Even if her stomach was grumbling and she was ravenous and it was nice to wake up to someone cooking her breakfast.  It was weird, it was so damn weird.  

Blake just shrugged.  “It was the least I could do,” she said.  Blake bit her lip.  “You’ve made me breakfast for the past few months.  I wanted to repay the favor.”

“You really didn’t have to,” she said.  

“I wanted to.”  Blake gave her a tentative smile, and Yang’s stomach flipped.  Brothers, she was beautiful.  She gave a tiny shake of her head, as if to chase the thoughts away.  Blake had been her cat for six months.  She should not be thinking about how stunning she was, even if she was in human form.  But Yang couldn’t deny Blake’s beauty.

She swallowed hard and poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot Blake had made.  “Thank you,” she said quietly, awkwardly.  “I appreciate it.”

Blake just nodded and gave her a small smile.  

~~~

“So how did you meet Yang?” Weiss asked, eyes cutting between them.

Yang’s eyes flicked to Blake, who nodded.  They had gone over this.  “We met in physical therapy,” Blake said easily.  

“Funny, Yang never mentioned you.”  Weiss’s icy eyes narrowed to slits.  “And you just moved in because?”

“Yang is doing me a solid,” Blake said.  “I- My ex kicked me out of our apartment.”  Another lie, one they hadn’t discussed.  “I needed a place to stay, and Yang was kind enough to offer up her guest room.  She’s a really great person, and she’s really helping me out.”

“Yang is a really great person!” Penny agreed brightly.  

Yang took a deep drink of her wine.  This had been a horrible idea, but she had no way of hiding that she suddenly had a roommate, and she wasn’t going to force Blake to stay in cat form when Weiss, Ruby, and Penny came over.  A dinner with the five of them had been a horrible idea, but they were getting through it.  Even if Weiss was suspicious as all hell and grilling Blake within an inch of her life.

“This salmon is really good,” she said, shoveling another bite into her mouth.

Ruby beamed.  “Thank you!”

“And how long do you think you’ll be staying here?” Weiss asked.

Yang shot her a pointed look, but Blake just straightened her shoulders and said, “I’m working on getting an apartment already.”

Weiss nodded and took a drink of water.  

“Alright, enough of the interrogation,” Yang said, only half-joking.  “How was your guys’ day?  What did you all do today?”

“We rescued a cat from a tree today!” Penny said with a smile.  “She was so cute, and she was so scared!  I felt so bad.  But we managed to get her down and back to her family.”  Penny’s braid flipped over her shoulder as she turned towards Yang with a tilted head.  “Any word on BeeBee?”

Yang shook her head.  “No word.”  She had told them that BeeBee had run out the door and disappeared.  They had put signs up over town with pictures of Bumblebee.  It was Blake’s secret to tell, and either way, she wasn’t sure how her sister and her girlfriends would take the news that shapeshifters existed and that magic was real.  It was the safer option, for both of their sakes, to not tell them.  Still, it felt wrong to lie to them, and Yang took another sip of her wine.

Penny’s face faltered.  “I’m sorry, Yang,” she said gently.  “I know you really loved her.”

“I do,” she said.  She felt Blake’s gaze on her.  “But I have no doubt that, wherever she ends up, she’ll be okay.  BeeBee is a fighter.”  Blake smiled tightly at her, and Yang nodded back.  “She’ll be okay.”

Weiss cleared her throat.  “On a lighter note,” she said, “I’m glad you two are living together.”

“Really?” Yang, Ruby, Blake, and Penny all said in unison.  

“I am!”  Weiss’s eyes narrowed before softening.  “You’re taking care of her?” she asked Blake.

“I don’t need to be taken care of!” she snapped.

“Yes,” Blake said with a wry smile.  “I’m doing my best.”

Yang glared at Blake and Weiss, but there was no venom in it.  In truth, Blake had been taking care of her.  She made them breakfast and dinner every day, even though Yang had told her countless times over the past few weeks that she didn’t have to.  In truth, it was nice.  

“Good,” Weiss said, apparently satisfied.  

Yang looked over at Blake and gave her a tight smile, and Blake smiled back.

~~~

“Hey, hey!”  

Yang’s eyes snapped open, and she was all too aware of the hands on her shoulders.  She jerked out of her grasp and sat up, pulling the covers to her chest.  “What’s wrong?” she asked, taking deep breaths.

Blake’s gold eyes glinted in the moonlight.  “You were screaming, Yang.”  

“Oh.”  Her throat thickened.  She brushed her off.  “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit, you’re fine.”  Blake sighed.  “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but don’t lie to me, Yang.”

“I just had a nightmare,” she mumbled.  “It’s fine.  I’m fine.”

Blake ran a hand through her hair, and then there was a flash of light that briefly blinded Yang.  Bumblebee was staring up at her and headbutted Yang’s hand.  

“What?”

But Blake pushed her down to the bed, and Yang groaned.  “I am not cuddling you,” she said.  Blake rubbed her head underneath Yang’s neck, almost as if to say Then I’ll cuddle you.  Yang sighed, and she begrudgingly accepted Blake into her arms.

“This is so damn weird, you know that?” she said before closing her eyes.  Blake just purred, settling on the mattress.  She rolled her eyes, but before she knew it, she was asleep.

~~~

Yang woke up with Blake in her arms.  It was how she had woken up every morning for the past two weeks, ever since she had had that nightmare and Blake had transformed back into a cat to cuddle.  During the night, Blake often wound up transforming back into a human, and at this point they got ready for bed together, and Blake just slept in her bed in her human form.  It was weird, it was so damn weird, but it worked.

“You know, you can stay here,” she said one morning over breakfast.  She swallowed the bite of pancakes, ignoring Blake’s stillness.  “If you want.  You can stay here.”

“Yang, I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” she said gently.  “You help me, and you’re kind, and sweet, and maybe I want you here.”  She gave Blake a weak smile.  “I want you here, if you want to be here.”

Blake’s throat bobbed.  “I’d like that,” she said quietly.

~~~

“Hey, Blake?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I take you out?”  Yang swallowed hard.  “You know, like on a date?”  Her palm was sweating, and she wasn’t looking at Blake.  

Blake laughed softly.  “I thought you’d never ask.”

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

Flu Season

Here it is! Inspired by another prompt for Cute Girls and Hot Androids. This one features ConnorxReaderxSixty! I've written about them a few times on my Ao3 account (this one would only be the second one that ISN'T nsfw.) I like sadistic Sixty, but with my dom personality, I just adore softboi Sixty. Anyway, I don't think it's really necessary to read the others, though I guess if you want more of a background into Sixty's issues, I could post the non-nsfw one here if anybody wants.

Warning: description of sickness I guess.

You weren't even awake when Sixty noticed your body was warmer than usual. Sitting up, he carefully nudged Connor, trying not to wake you.

'Connor, I think somethings wrong with Y/n. She's warmer than usual.'

Connor tried not to rouse you, but with your arm and leg over him, he couldn't help but jostle you slightly in his bid to get a better look at you. You started to curl into yourself, a sad whine leaving your throat. His scans showed your temperature was higher than it should be, and your cheeks were flushed.

"Heart, Are you alright?" Connor murmured against your ear, earning another pitiful whine. You didn't answer. Instead, you clambered out from between your two lovers, your steps unsteady as you made your way to the bathroom.

Connor and Sixty looked to each other before both climbed out of bed. They moved to stand outside the bathroom door, but neither knew how to proceed.

"Y/n?" Sixty called hesitantly. Only a moment later, they could hear you getting violently sick. "Y/n!" Sixty tried the door handle, but it was locked. You never lock the door. "Y/n, open the door!" Your only reply was more of that horrendous retching. Just as Connor moved to break open the door, the two could hear the sound of the toilet flushing, along with the sound of you sniffling.

The door opened, and you looked positively miserable. Your face was completely flushed, with tears streaking down your cheeks. You kept gulping, fighting off another round of vomiting. Your eyes were glazed, as if you were out of it.

"I don't feel good." Your voice was so small, almost childlike.

Connor pulled you close, and you practically fell against him. Your temperature had spiked during your episode, sitting too high for comfort. He stood there, holding you, unsure what to do.

"Have you ever dealt with her being sick before?" Sixty asked. During his time in the trios unconventional relationship, you had never fallen ill before. With Sixty's damaged systems, you and Connor had helped him more times than he was comfortable with, but he has never known you to be sick. Apparently, neither has Connor, shaking his head.

"I've only known her to be sick once before, when she called out from work for a few days. She kept assuring me that she was fine, but she wanted to be left alone, so I didn't help." Even though he really wanted to. He wasn't even in a romantic relationship with you at the time, but all his thoughts were on you, worrying about your welfare. Hank could hardly get his attention for five minutes during those three days, both at work and at home. It wasn't until you returned to the office on the forth day, a little pale but otherwise alright, that he could relax.

Now he stood, in the middle of the night, more bracing you up than holding you, without a single idea of what to do.

"Do you want to go back to bed?" Sixty leaned forward, speaking softly to you. After a moment, you hummed a negative. Your head was swimming and you were certain that this was only the first round of bathroom trips, with many to come. By the time you get comfortable in bed, you would just have to jump up again.

"How about the couch?" Connor suggested. It was closer, and if you couldn't make it, there was a trash bin tucked in one of the cabinets against the arms. You hummed again, though he wasn't certain if it was actually a positive. Since it was different from the first hum, he assumed so, leading you to the couch. You kept tripping over your own feet, and all he wanted in that moment was to carry you, but the jostling might agitate your stomach. He finally was able to sit you down, but right then, you jumped back up, heading to the bathroom and shutting the door quickly.

"I believe she might have gastroenteritis, or rather, the stomach flu." Sixty moved towards his predecessor, showing a web page on his palm. It matched your symptoms. He could do a blood analysis to be sure, but it seemed extreme to prick your finger when you already felt so terrible. It made sense. Many people at the department were coming down with it. It was making Hank even less sociable than he already is.

"What are the treatment plans?" Sixty scrolled down.

"Keep her hydrated is the most important. It says to use something with electrolytes to replenish the salts she's losing as well. Over the counter medications can be effective with her fever and some of her symptoms if she can keep them down. Light, easy to digest meals. Cold compresses to lower her temperature. Keep sounds, smells, and lights to a minimum to avoid agitating her symptoms. If she doesn't improve, we might have to take her to the hospital." Connor made a shopping list and mapped out the fastest route to a store that would have all he needs and be open at 3:47 am.

"Alright, I'll go get supplies. Do you think you'll be alright?" Connor asked.

"Yes, I think I can handle it." Connor smiled, giving Sixty a quick peck on the lips, promising to be back as quickly as possible.

With Connor gone, Sixty sat outside of the bathroom, listening to the horrible sounds you were making, each one made him consider breaking the door down. Why did you keep locking it? The toilet would flush a few moments later. He can hear you crying, tearing him apart. He hates that he can't help, that you won't let him help.

After a while, it occurred to him that you had stopped making those sounds, and the toilet hadn't flushed.

"Y/n? Are you alright?" He knew it was a dumb question, of course you weren't.

"Sixty?" You never stopped amazing him when you were able to tell the difference between him and Connor. Their voice was almost the same, but you claimed Sixty's had a different inflection to it. It must be true, as the only time you got their names backwards is when you're rambling, and when you realize it, you were quick to correct it.

"Yes?"

"Could... Could you... grab me a new shirt?" You sounded ashamed, meek compared to your usual upbeat voice. He rushed to grab you a clean, comfortable shirt. Returning to the bathroom, he was pleased to find it unlocked. When he opened the door, you were sitting on the floor by the toilet, resting against it. Your pajama top was missing, tossed to the side, a mess on the front of it. He gave you the shirt, but it wasn't long until he understood that you would be unable to put it on yourself. You just felt too weak. He carefully helped you put it on.

"Usually, I'm taking your clothes off. It's nice to switch it up." He joked, earning a small laugh and a wry smile. "Do you want to try laying down again?"

"Not yet, " you whimpered, returning to laying across the toilet seat. Sixty rubbed your back in a soothing motion. Noticing your hair, he grabbed a hair-tie from the sink and loosely tied it back.

"Thanks."

"Of course."

"Where's Con?" You made a strange sound, scrunching your face up in revulsion.

"He went to buy medicine and supplies. He'll be back soon." You hummed, though it turned into a whine when you felt your stomach churn again.

"You don't need to stay," You mumbled, "I'm pretty gross right now."

It hit Sixty. That's why you've been locking the door. You're self-conscious about your illness.

"You're not gross, you're sick. You're still perfect to me."

"You might think otherwise in about five seconds."

"Not likely. I can't think of anything you could do that would make me, or Connor for that matter, think otherwise." In that moment, you lurched forward, expelling your stomach contents into the toilet. It was even more violent than it sounded, your torso rigid, knuckles white from how hard you were gripping the seat. You coughed and gagged, trying to catch your breath. He had experienced system purges himself, finding them to be extremely unpleasant, but this looked downright painful. He continued to rub your back, wishing for Connor to hurry home.

......

Meanwhile, Connor was standing in front of the medical supplies, completely lost. There were so many different variations of medications, each seeming to treat a wide variety of symptoms. They came in capsules, tablets, liquids... Which one was best? He hasn't been this confused since you sent him to buy pads for the first time. He picked up two different medicines, reading what they alleviated. In his rush to leave the house, he didn't really pay close attention to your specific ailment. You weren't coughing when he left, but you just woke up, so it might have manifested in his absence. Sixty might know.

.......

'Sixty, is Y/n congested?'

At home, Sixty was draping a blanket over your form, still in the bathroom. Despite your fever, you were shivering uncontrollably. Sixty considered the question. You sounded congested, but he wasn't certain if it was from the flu or you crying.

"Y/n, can you describe your symptoms?"

You spat, flushing the toilet, absolutely disgusted with yourself.

"Other... Than the... Obvious... My head hurts... Stomach hurts... Everything hurts... I just... I don't know... I just feel like shit, " you huffed out. You rested your burning forehead against the seat, the cool plastic felt nice, but in no time at all, it was warm and uncomfortable.

'She says everything hurts and she has a headache. Please hurry.' Seeing you so miserable when he could do so little to help made him feel awful.

"Are... Are you messaging Connor? Ahh-Ask him if... If he could pick up crackers and ginger ale."

'She wants crackers and ginger ale.'

'Got it.'

......

Connor grabbed a couple of different ones, deciding that they will figure it out when he gets home. Pulling up the web page, he made a list of what else he would need. Broth, sports drink, cold compress, heating pad; along with your requested items. He swiftly checked out and headed home.

.......

"Are you ready?" Sixty draped your arm over his shoulder.

"Yeah, slowly." Carefully, he hauled you to your feet. He would have rather carried you, but you worried the motion would upset your stomach again. Gradually, he walked you to the couch. He had set up several pillows and another blanket for you, leaving the other one on the bathroom counter for later, pulling it over you as you laid down.

"Do you want anything?"

"Water please." Sixty nodded, moving quickly. He handed you the glass. You thanked him, taking a small sip, the cool water felt good on your sore throat. You held the glass against your forehead. It gave Sixty an idea. He took the glass from you, setting it on a nearby table.

"Would you sit up for a moment?" You complied and he sat behind you, gently pulling you to lie down with him. He lowered his hand's temperature, placing it on your head.

"That feels nice." You sighed, practically melting against him. He smiled, happy to have found some way to ease your suffering, if only a little. "Can you put on a movie? One we've seen a dozen times. I need a distraction."

"Sure." He connected to the tv, turning it on and going to your playlist.

.......

You were dozing off by the time the sound of the front door opened. You opened your eyes, seeing Connor carrying several bags. He set the bags on the coffee table, crouching down in front of you."

"How are you feeling?"

"Like shit. Next question." You gave him a crooked smile. He leaned forward, shifting Sixty's hand for a second and pressing his lips to your forehead.

"Your fever is still far too high, " he riffled through the bags, "because you can't stomach solids, I grabbed this one. It should absorb into your system faster." He produced a bottle of purple cold and flu medicine.

"No."

Your answer baffled both androids.

"What?" They blurted simultaneously.

"I am not drinking that."

"Why not?" Connor regarded the bottle, "You like grapes."

"Try it."

He glanced up at you to see if you were serious. Surely it can't be so bad that you would rather suffer through your symptoms. Apparently, you thought so, as you weren't joking. He opened the bottle and brought it to his nose, taking a whiff. It was quite... Strong. He poured a small amount into the pre-measured cup and put it in his mouth. Instant regret set in. Has the person who created this abomination ever even tasted a grape? He wasn't even sure it would be good for his systems if he swallowed it. You couldn't help but laugh at the faces he was making.

Sixty's curiosity got the better of him. He reached down and took the bottle from Connor, opening it. The older RK choked down his mouthful.

"Don't."

He almost heeded him too, but the fault in deviant detective androids is their burning curiosity. It barely touched his tongue before he spit it back out into the bottle.

"Oh, rA9, toss it. That's horrible." Sixty handed Connor back the bottle, as if it were poisonous. Connor got up and chucked it in the bin, returning to his spot on the floor.

"Stop making... Making me laugh! It hurts!" You giggled. Their reaction was worth the pain. You wished you had recorded it, you doubt that they'd give you their memory file.

"Well, I also grabbed liquid capsules. Hopefully, they'll dissolve quickly." He went through the bags again and pulled out the small box, popping two pills out, and a can of ginger ale. You took them both, sipping on the drink and handing it back, which he put next to your water. You sank back down against Sixty.

"You two are the best." They both swelled with pride at your grumbled words.

Connor stood up, taking another purchase out of the bag and plugging it into a nearby outlet. Ensuring it was at the proper setting, he laid it out over your stomach. The gentle heat from the pad helped ease the ache. Thanks to Sixty, the cold compress wasn't necessary. It was quite a brilliant idea. The older android still put the compress into the freezer, just in case, then joined you and Sixty on the couch, lifting your legs so he could settle under them and the blanket. He kept one hand on your leg, gently rubbing it, or tracing shapes into the skin. His other hand stretched out over the back of the couch, intertwining with the fingers of Sixty's free hand.

They kept vigil over your resting form, ready to assist you the second you ask. Unfortunately, you were only able to doze off for about twenty minutes, though it felt like seconds, before you sprung up.

"Don't follow me." Was all you got out before you dashed to the bathroom. Against their wishes, they obeyed, counting the minutes that passed by. After fourteen, you slowly crept back.

"Are you-" Sixty started.

"I don't wanna talk about it, " was your quick reply. Some things are better left unsaid.

"I got this, though if it's like the other, let me know." Connor grabbed a bottle with pink liquid in it. You took it, considering your options. Eventually, you set it next to your drinks, taking another small sip of the ginger ale before lying back down.

"It's not bad, but its not good either. I might try it later. Right now, my stomach doesn't know what it's doing and I'd rather have as little as possible in it."

"I'm sorry you feel so terrible, " Connor softy spoke. He couldn't help but think that he could have prevented this. As of late, you had been dealing with a lot of work stress, weakening your immune system. Had he calculated that, along with the fact that the flu had been making it's rounds among the other human detectives, he could have altered your meal plan, perhaps started you on vitamins, ensured you only ate what him and Sixty prepared for you, and checked that you were washing your hands after touching anything, maybe then-

"Connor, " you narrowed your eyes at the older RK800. You knew that look, the remorseful sorrow sitting just under the surface of the contemplating android. "It was bound to happen. Humans get sick, and I had been overdue. I might feel like I'm dying, but I know I'm not. It will pass. I'm just happy I can't get the two of you sick." You would have felt even more guilty that they were waiting on your every request if they were also risking their health to do so. Not to mention, when you're ill, you can't help but want to be held and cared for. Misery loves company, you suppose.

Connor smiled and nodded. He still feels it was preventable, but there's no use dwelling on the past. All he can do now is help to care for you.

The sun was starting to rise, signaling it was almost time to start getting ready for work. Sixty connected with the blinds, closing them all so the sun wouldn't bother you. Your temperature was dropping, much to their elation, though it was still in the triple digits. Connor made the decision to call all three of them out of work, claiming you had the flu and Sixty was having an episode, leaving him to care for the two. He didn't like lying, but he knows whether he or Sixty goes to work, both would be unable to focus, thoughts only on you. Fowler was upset, naturally, but agreed.

Your boys took care of you, playing movie after movie that you would just sleep through if you were lucky. They took turns comforting you when you were purging your, already empty, stomach, rubbing your back or getting you water. Later on, Connor ran you a bath while Sixty gathered your dirty clothes, tossing them in the washer and finding you some fresh, dry pajamas. They did everything in their power to help you make a full recovery. With your two doctors on the case, it was only a matter of time before you're back on your feet.

[keatsblue]

Want a Piece of Me?! - a Kiribaku Baking AU fic, pre-slash.

*** 

It was something he’d picked up from his mother, before she’d gotten too sick.

She’d let him roll out flour-dusted dough into thinned sheets, let him taste a batter mix or two on the tip of her spoon. Whenever he was tasked with packing the buttercream, he’d unerringly return to her with a dollop of icing on the end of his nose. She’d let out a laugh like windchimes as she wiped his face off with a multi-stained washcloth, would murmur, warm against the skin of his cheek as she kissed it—did my little dragon get greedy for some sugar again? Well, here’s some sugar!

Kirishima was her little dragon, and she’d made sure his early life was filled with candied nights and warm bellies, gingerbread castles with marshmallow spires.

After she passed, he kept it up to feel close to her.

He was far from an expert baker, but he knew his way around an oven. His hands were large and not the most suited to handling delicate fondant, but he managed. His arms were strong, good for hefting bags of fresh ingredients.

Pineapple upside-down. Triple-tiered, Italian wedding crème. Chocolate lavender truffles, topping his signature cherry cordial mousse. Delicate macaroons and finicky meringues, mirror glazes so seamless he could see his reflection. Kirishima baked his way through the entire grieving process, inviting his closest friends over for tastings, and he won.

I’m okay, mom.

He wasn’t certain when it had really started, this online business. Mina had actually made the first post, snapped the first photo. He hadn’t expected it to get a single comment.

It got hundreds. Then thousands.

People contacted him, wanting to know how they could make their own cakes look like that.

Kirishima obliged, of course. How could he not? He was going to bake anyway. Might as well help a few other amateur chefs while he was at it!

Mina helped him film. “I discovered you, so I’m your manager for life,” she’d say, with a wink. “Don’t forget about me when you make it big and become a world-famous baker, somewhere.”

World-famous, my ass, he always thought, whenever she’d suggest such a thing. He still made far too many mistakes, for that.

It was okay, most of the time. Many of the people who followed his little baking ‘show’ were more than understanding, and incredibly supportive. When he read their kind comments, it gave him a warm, fluttery kind of feeling—almost like one of his mother’s secure hugs.

There were always those few, though.

He was just getting off the rickety bus that stopped near his neighborhood when he saw it. He almost missed the last step on his way down, stumbling for a few paces as the telltale sound of a screen door sliding shut behind him signaled the bus’s departure.

However, Kirishima wasn’t paying attention to any of that. Instead, his eyes were glued to the screen of his phone, where he’d just called up his latest baking stream.

xxxx: ur cakes suck a**

He frowned down at the comment, checking the timestamp. So, it was just posted a few minutes ago.

Huh.

It was obviously a troll, no doubt about it. They didn’t even have a profile picture to go with the nondescript name. And usually, usually, Kirishima would just let comments like that slide right off his shoulders.

But he’d had a bad day. And it was funny, how something so small could pierce his heart sometimes, a sharp spear to the mighty dragon’s soft underbelly.

It was safe to say, making his way up the rusted-out stairwell to his college-budget apartment took a little more energy than usual. He jammed his key into the lock with punishing force, twisted.

The door swung upon under his palms, and the familiar scent of his home wafted toward him, riding along the sudden gust of warm air escaping. Kirishima was careful to shut the door quickly, before too much of the heat was let out. Breathed in the fruit-sweet smell from his kitchen, so if nothing else, the familiarity of it could ease his scattered mind.

His phone chimed, before he could get too relaxed. When he checked the message ID, though, he couldn’t help but smile.

alienqueen: ughhhhh I hate this asshole already

alienqueen: obviously, he’s never tasted 1 of kiri’s cakes

ducktapes: kiri’s cakes <3 ahhhh my heart

sparksmcgee: dude same, want me 2 get sweet vengeance?

As soon as Kirishima’s smile had appeared, it vanished. He frantically opened the chat, his thumbs too large to type with the speed he needed.

There was no way to tell if Denki was serious. And his friend could do it, too—every day, Kirishima thanked his lucky stars he was on the excitable hacker’s good side.

kiricakes: no need!! it’s just a troll, guys

kiricakes: super manly of you to think of me, though

sparksmcgee: ur too nice, fams

sparkmcgee: guess the troll lives… for now

ducktapes: TROLL IN THE DUNGEON! THERE’S A-

alienqueen: aksnfkasnof

kiricakes: lolllllll

Before long, he was able to lose himself in mindless chatter. The antics of his friends never failed to bring his spirits up. He plugged his phone into one of the few outlets in his crummy apartment, embedded into the wall just over the kitchen counter, so he could continue the conversation even as his battery started to wane.

The hours grew long, though, and time was scarce mid-week for exhausted, assignment-laden college kids. It wasn’t a surprise when Denki soon begged off on some coding or another that he had to re-run, or when Sero and Mina similarly slipped away (they were researching something together for Comparative Physiology, it was all very much over Kirishima’s head). In the end, he was left with only his thoughts, and an empty kitchen.

He locked his phone, and the screen went dark. He could see his reflection in it, baggy eyes and downturned lips. A shock of red hair, which had once been midnight-black.

Like his mother’s.

Kirishima turned his head. In the low light, his appliances gleamed from their shelves. Almost mocking, in a way.

“My cakes don’t suck,” he said, to no one. His grin stretched wide, and he could tell from the burn of it that he was showing far too many of his sharpened teeth. “I’ll prove it to you.”

He set his phone to record, and made another cake. It was triple-tiered, funfetti, because that was the batter mix he had on-hand. He watched the batter rise within his dented iron pans with all the patience of a general considering the battlements—or perhaps, a dragon considering its’ hoard.

Any spare buttercream was packed into a dispensary, silken and primed to hold his creation together. He spliced it evenly between his cakes with a practiced ease, layer after layer.

Then, the whipped frosting. It was a simple recipe, one of the first he’d learned. He worked the whipping cream within a chilled bowl, adding scoop upon scoop of powdered sugar until the mixture obediently began to rise, forming soft peaks.

He made several batches, and then added some orange food coloring to each.

Fuck it. I’m in an orange sort of mood.

His second favorite color, after red.

All that remained was assembly.

… throughout the process, he talked.

Kirishima didn’t typically make a habit of speaking while he baked. He certainly didn’t speak while he recorded, but this—this was a special occasion. Soon, he found himself opening up in front of the camera like never before. He spoke of his mother, briefly. Of his love of baking, and how much he didn’t want to lose that little piece of her he had left.

It was all he had left.

The whipped frosting went on like a dream for him, a smooth and even ombre that when he finished, reminded Kirishima just a bit of an orange sunset. It was soothing, and right, and exactly what he needed.

He didn’t think much of posting the video, largely unedited, to his public account. His was still a small corner of the internet, after all—a solitary baking channel in a sea of thousands. Maybe even millions. How many people would even see it, really?

“Oh, and by the way, can you guys stop saying my cakes look like shit?”

It was only one cake.

With great effort, Kirishima stumbled his way to his bedroom. He hadn’t realized how tired he was, how much all that time in the kitchen had taken out of him.

Before his head even hit the pillow, he was out.

He dreamed of his mother’s sweets, and orange.

***

sparksmcgee: dude wake up

sparksmcgee: wake uppppp

sparksmcgee: KIRI

sparksmcgee: KIRI U GOTTA SEE THIS

sparksmcgee: KIRIIIII

sparksmcgee: fine, ignore me, Mr. Internet Sensation

sparksmcgee: wait I was joking, I was joking!

sparksmcgee: I’ll call u! I’ll do it!!

sparksmcgee: damn it kiri

sparksmcgee: just watch the fuckin’ video

sparksmcgee: https://twitter.com/Simplemachines_/status/1297739774795509761

***

Kirishima groaned, slamming a fist down on top of the source of that incessant beeping. It was too early in the morning for such ear-splitting noise.

But what was done couldn’t be undone. He was awake now, for better or worse.

He cracked one eye open, squinting against the bright blue light of his phone screen. Still bleary-eyed, he scrolled through all of Denki’s messages (seriously, man?) and pressed a thumb over the hyperlink his friend sent. It was probably just some dumb meme—

Wait. Wait.

That was his cake video from last night. And… that wasn’t all.

Some blond guy with an angry face took up the other half of the split screen, but he wasn’t doing anything. He seemed to be waiting for something.

Kirishima blinked. A… reaction video…?

He heard himself begin to speak, to layer the buttercream. Internally, he cringed.

Well. In his defense, he had been having one of those days—

He almost dropped his phone when the blond guy yelled at the top of his lungs.

“WHO WAS MEAN TO YOU?!”

Huh? Was this guy speaking… in Kirishima’s defense?

“WHO SAID YOUR CAKES LOOK LIKE SHIT?! POINT ‘EM OUT!”

Slathering on his nice, ombre whipped frosting, now. The blond guy (who was kinda cute, actually, even with his angry face) continued to watch and listen with rapt attention, occasionally letting out another unholy screech.

The video progressed to the part where Kirishima had begun describing his day, and really, he could’ve kicked himself. It’d just been a math test. He’d been excited at the time, because he’d gotten his grade back and hadn’t completely failed it, but now, he wondered. Who would want to listen to such inane, boring—

“YES! I’M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU, SHITTY HAIR!”

Shitty hair? Inadvertently, he felt the hand that wasn’t currently occupied supporting his phone drift up toward his hairline. He knew he applied a lot of gel, spiked it up on purpose. Surely it didn’t look that bad.

But even with that last comment, the guy had said a lot of nice things. And how manly, to post such a wholesome reaction video, where all the world could see?

His phone beeped again as a message banner flashed across the top of the screen. He opened it with a flick of his finger.

It seemed this time, Denki had messaged in the group chat. He didn’t have long to wonder whether his other friends had seen the video, either, messages were fired at rapid speed.

sparksmcgee: did you see it?!?? I found the guy! Your dream man!

sparksmcgee: his name is **drumroll**

kiricakes: denki, no

ducktapes: denki, YES

sparksmcgee: BAKUGOU KATSUKI, HE’S FROM JAPAN

alienqueen: Kiri go get your mans!!

sparksmcgee: if you want I can also get his credit card

kiricakes: DENKI NO

Bakugou Katsuki. Huh.

As his friends continued to bicker amongst themselves, Kirishima stretched out his limbs. He let out a soft sigh when his shoulders popped, already considering what he would bake himself for breakfast.

Maybe he’d have a slice of orange funfetti. And perhaps as he did, his mind would drift to an angry fan.

One he hoped to meet, someday.