#That and everything else that just seems to be going wrong is just so so much for me right now. I don't know how long I can do this anymore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

m0nnypie · 3 days ago

Text

02. [IZUKU MIDORIYA]

✿ warnings. To all the boys I've loved before!Au, quirkless!reader, teacher!reader, aged up characters, all the boys are pro-hero (including Deku).

✿ synopsis. Your childhood letters, the ones in which you declare your love for every crush you had, ended up being sent without your permission. What could come of that?

✿ words account. 2.5k

"Argh! Shit..." You thought it was extremely unfair that on your day off, everything went wrong. Starting with the fact that you were supposed to meet up with some friends, but ALL of them canceled. Even though you knew them well enough to know that they just didn't want to go out with you, since going out with everyone but you is normal.

You even thought you could enjoy the night out on your own, but then they spilled drinks on you, your heels broke (you had to break the other one to keep wearing them) and of course you saw your "friends"

But just as you left the club to finally get home and forget everything that had happened today. It started to rain. And obviously you didn't bring an umbrella. How cliché. But honestly, it couldn't get any worse.

You were hurrying to find shelter so you wouldn't get so wet. Although when you arrived, you were drenched. As soon as you picked up your cell phone to check the time, it had died. You took a deep breath to stop yourself from freaking out.

Not in a million years would you have called a cab on your own, with a dead cell phone, in the middle of the night. You could be anything, but crazy and stupid you weren't.

"Do you need help?"

A hoarse, warm voice spoke from beside you. You were ready to scream, but as soon as you turned to look at the owner of the voice, you shut up. Your eyes widened, it was Midoriya. He was smiling sweetly at you, and it made you want to eat. You quickly pulled yourself together.

"No. I don't need it." You turned to walk away through the rain, anything was better than staying there. But you felt him grab you by the wrist. As soon as you turned to him, he had that cynical look on his face, as if he really cared.

"Please (name)- sorry, (L/N)..." You wish you could hit him in the face right now, but you know you'd come off as crazy. "I don't want to leave you alone here, it's late and dangerous..."

"And why do you care?!" You said harshly, if you were a snake right now you could probably be spewing venom out of your mouth.

"Because I care about you!" He said with conviction, and that irritated you. You started to laugh, and you could see out of the corner of your eye that he was a little embarrassed by your reaction, what an idiot.

"Really? You? You care? With me?" You kept laughing, as if it was all just a good joke. It was, but the joke was actually on you. "Are you serious, Midoriya? The last time I remember, you didn't even want to look me in the face."

He looked away from you, swallowing hard and clearly uncomfortable. Not that you minded, he didn't deserve any sympathy from you.

Flashback on -

You remember it all to this day, for many it was just another stupid day at school. But not for you, it was the day you were finally going to propose to Midoriya. A little 9 year old declaring herself, cute isn't it?

You met when you were only 4 years old, which led you to meet Bakugou. But you didn't give a damn about him, not then. You only cared about the boy with the wide green eyes.

Nothing else mattered, even though Bakugou always pestered you, even though your parents fought often, even though sometimes you just wanted to cry, whenever you looked into those eyes, all you felt was peace. Until that ended.

The first person you met (unfortunately) was Bakugou, he was fighting with his friends for some reason you didn't really give a damn about.

"Have you seen Izuku?" You unfortunately had the idea of asking the stupid blond. As soon as he heard your question, he gave you his usual scowl, but the mention of the greenish guy's name seemed to make it worse.

"Why would I know about that stupid nerd? And what the fuck do you want with him?" He shouted, as usual. You just rolled your eyes and walked away, ignoring all the shouting coming from him.

You ended up not seeing Izuku for the rest of the class, for some reason he just disappeared from your sight, you couldn't even find him at break! He even seemed to be avoiding you.

You were about to give up and put it off until you finally spotted a green-haired boy. The smile that appeared on your face was capable of infecting anyone who passed by with how happy you looked.

"IZUKU!!!" You shouted, catching the boy's eye. When you finally reached him, you saw that something was strange. He seemed nervous, and wouldn't even look at you. "Are you okay? You look bad..." you said with real concern.

"I don't want to be your friend anymore" he said quickly and quietly, which confused you because you hadn't understood anything.

"What? Speak up izu! You don't have to be shy around me! You know that!" You tried to give him confidence.

"I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND ANYMORE!" Suddenly, all eyes fell on you, and you stared at him in shock.

"W-what?" Hardly anything came out of your mouth, you were so shocked that you couldn't even speak properly. "What do you want to say?" You said it so quietly that if it hadn't been for Izuku being near you, he wouldn't have heard you.

"I-I don't want to be your friend! I'm tired of you!" As soon as the words left his mouth, his eyes filled with tears. Why? What had you done to him? What had you done to him? You always supported him, you were always on his side when Bakugou bullied him. "You're so annoying! I don't know why you're still around me, I just want you to stay away!"

A bubbling anger began to fill you, how dare he talk to you like that? What could be wrong with him? You started to feel an urge when you looked at his face again.

"AS IF I WANTED TO BE YOUR FRIEND! I ONLY TALKED TO YOU OUT OF PITY!" You shouted so loudly that the teachers came out of the school to see what was going on.

"YOU'RE JUST ANOTHER LOSER WITH NO QUIRK!"

You didn't even pay attention when you heard Bakugou laughing in the background, or the teachers trying to calm you down, or even the tears welling up in Midoriya's eyes. You pushed him so hard that he fell to the ground.

"IDIOT! DON'T EVER APPEAR IN FRONT OF ME AGAIN! I HATE YOU!"

You ran off before anyone could take in what had just happened. The first thing you did when you got home was run to your room, completely ignoring your fighting parents.

And for the first time in years, your parents stopped fighting. They knew almost nothing about you, but one thing they always remembered, you were always happy, despite their fights, and despite everything. But not today. That day, and the week that followed, there was complete silence inside your house.

After that day, you never looked Midoriya in the face again. You started hanging around Bakugou, always clinging to him. And whenever Bakugou teased the green-haired boy, you pretended not to see.

And as for the letter, you just couldn't throw it away, so you hid it in a box under your bed, and then everything changed.

Flashback off -

"I-I know... I fucked up... but please... it's late and I don't trust leaving you alone at this hour..." You stared into the immensity of those green eyes, and wanted to vomit. "Please (name)... just let me take you home, just one ride! And I'll never bother you again!"

He looked at you with those lost-dog eyes, the ones that whenever he showed you, you did whatever he wanted. But... now it was different. You looked at the rain, it certainly wasn't going to stop now, it was only going to get worse.

"Okay. Just one ride, and no more." He smiled at you, a smile that although you wouldn't admit it, you missed. He walked you to his car, you practically standing under the umbrella so you wouldn't get wet.

As soon as you reached the car, you were surprised. It was one of those expensive cars that you would never be able to afford, I mean, not that you know that much about cars, but you know what you can and can't afford.

He opened the door for you and waved you in. He waited until you were inside and dry, before closing the door and going to the driver's side. As soon as he got in, he realized that his left side was completely soaked, which shouldn't have happened...

"So... where do you live?..." He said almost hopefully, as if you were going to run away from him and get out of his car screaming.

"Oh... I live near the station..." you said quietly, trying your best not to make eye contact with Midoriya. "You don't have to drive me to my house..."

He gave you a big, warm smile. "No problem! I like to help... and it wouldn't be right to leave you alone late at night either..." he shifted his gaze back to the front.

"Right... thanks then..." you looked away to the window. Midoriya finally got out of his seat and started driving. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see that he looked conflicted, as if he was arguing with himself about whether he should say something to you there.

"Um...so...how's your life as a pro-hero? Are you...um, enjoying it?" You tried to lighten the mood, but soon regretted it.

"Ah! Yes! I love it! It's great to always be able to save people when they need it...although sometimes the work gets really tiring..." And before you could even say anything again, Midoriya was already chattering away.

You thought it was cute that, even after years, he was still the same. The same chatty boy who always perked up when he talked about something he liked.

He must have noticed you staring, because he suddenly stopped talking. And he was looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You looked away, your cheeks heating up.

"And you? You became a teacher, didn't you?" He said, trying to distract from the recent event.

"Um... yes, I did" There was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, and you hoped that you would get home soon. "And Bakugou? I mean..."

"Good! I mean... he's still a bit irritable as usual... but... well" he laughed, and you followed him. It made him smile more. A few minutes later, you finally arrived at his house. "Here we are..."

"Thanks for the ride, I really didn't need it," you said too sweetly, which surprised you, since you did everything you could not to show how you felt beyond your students.

"You're welcome..." he smiled at you. And then everything got weird again, he just started staring at you without saying anything. As if he was hypnotized.

"Um...Midoriya?" He didn't answer. You snapped your fingers in front of him. And then he seemed to come back to life. Instantly, his cheeks turned red, and he looked away.

"I'M SORRY!"

You laughed. "It's okay..." you then smiled at him, and started to get ready to leave.

"Wait!" He quickly got out of the car, running to your side of the door, stumbling halfway. All this to open the door for you. "There!"

He opened the umbrella so you could get out, and you accepted without blinking. You didn't want to get any wetter than you already were. He took you to the door of the building. Then he finally said goodbye.

"Well... thanks again for the ride..." You gave him a small kiss on the cheek as a thank you, it wouldn't be a problem, after all, this would be the last time you'd see each other.

"You're welcome..." he grinned like a fool. You then went inside, leaving him standing there alone. Smiling like a fool who has seen the love of his life for the first time.

Izuku finally got home, and of all the days, today was the worst. Starting with the villains giving him more trouble again, he hadn't had a day off in over three weeks.

But there was one good thing in all this: you. When he met you again for the first time after so long, he didn't even know how to react. Of course, even more so after Kacchan basically shouted at you.

He wished he could have walked you to school, to make sure you got there safely, but you just ignored him, which hurt him a little. But he couldn't blame you, he made a mistake with you when you were younger. He had lost all hope, until he received a letter. A letter from you.

At first, he thought it was a lie, a joke from Denki or Mina, something like that. But as soon as he read the letter, he knew it was from you, the way you spoke matched the letter exactly. And although the letter was apparently a bit old, it still smelled of her peach perfume.

That day, all their hopes came crashing back like a truck. He didn't know how to react. His first instinct was to call Ochako. What he should have known was that it was a bad idea, considering it was midnight and she hated being woken up. At least he got some good advice... which was that he should stop being an idiot and go talk to you. A big help.

But then, one day when he decided to take a walk to cool off, he found you. You were soaking wet, under a store tent. That's when he decided to act. Obviously his first instinct was to offer you a lift. At first, he saw how much you avoided even looking at him.

But in the end, one of his worst days, he got a kiss on the cheek. It sounds silly thinking about it now, but in all honesty he didn't give a damn. Everything that came from you was wonderful, no matter how small. He felt like a teenager at that very moment.

He threw himself down on the sofa, picking up the letter to read again. No matter how many times he read the letter, he would never tire of reading it again. He smiled to himself like an idiot. No matter how long it took, he would make it up to you and he would win you back.

Tag List: @mtsyik @homeless-clown @babylambdietcoke @erisawrites @kryscent @ita606 @aikojwhpa @vanillaicebaby @flilou02 @yuuuumii @angelicpupsblog @ikissfade @mrowwww @tsumuus

81 notes · View notes

val-cansalute · 8 hours ago

Text

𝙱𝙴𝚈𝙾𝙽𝙳 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝟶𝟺

summary: you haven’t spent the night with ellie since she left, and you didn’t think you would ever do so again. but now you’re here. and there’s this random ass dog here too ig.

a/n: LOLLLLL I DID IT!!!!! this is 75% yap but I swear it gets cute at the end plz just read plz istg

tag list: @diddiqueen, @amberputh, @fatbootymuncher, @sapphointhe21stcenturyposts, @jadelovesyou00, @ravyaryn

series masterlist

You turn your phone off, eyes fixed on that same blurry fleck on the ceiling as darkness floods back into the room.

03:17

Unfortunately, those are rookie numbers to you, especially since that little get-together: the night you ended ‘things’ with Alexis over the phone, which somehow went surprisingly smoothly, on your part at least.

Well, you hung up before gauging how she took it. The only implications were the incessant buzzes of your phone against the smooth wooden surface of your nightstand, now cluttered with junk accumulated during the past few days. Over the course of them, the buzzes slowed before dying out completely. Then came the silence, in which you were left to rot in your thoughts.

That day, you came home and embraced the emptiness of your bed after going so long with a stranger lying beside you, and you immediately began abusing the absolute tragedy of it all, using the breakup as an excuse to laze around constantly, take a day or two off work. The reality, quite clearly, try as you might to conceal it (which isn’t much), is that you’re not really at the appropriate level of impacted by the whole ordeal, whatever that would be.

Perhaps the worst part of it all - what you truly feel the most guilty for - is that your thoughts keep taking a turn towards Ellie. It’s like the area of your mind dedicated to her suddenly flourished with greenery and colour following her return like rain crashing down against the dry sands of a desert, and it has only amplified since that night. A constant reminder that the markings she left on the enclosure of your skull will never fade.

Maybe you should be annoyed - mad, even - about the way she acted. But none of the emotions clustered inside you come even remotely close to that. Too far in an unprecedented direction.

But it’s not unprecedented. Not really. You’re acutely self-aware; you’ve always found it difficult to lie to yourself.

You think about her a lot, most of all about how she’s doing all alone in that house. You hope for a lot of things for her too. A lot. Things you shouldn’t hope for people you were supposed to have left in your past.

Ellie felt like dookie, which wasn’t unusual, quite the opposite. However, the reasoning was new. She felt like shit for that ugly thing that came over her, jealousy. She felt like shit because it was wrong to be jealous over the woman she once belonged to, the woman who also belonged to her, who doesn’t look in her eyes the way she used to, who laughs with someone else, holds someone else, loves someone else the way she used to love Ellie. Well, Ellie knows you love her because she knows you, but not the way you used to. There is a sadness there, a sort of pity, which irks her. It made her scared that you’d never see her the same way again.

And she wasn’t sure she’d be able to let the walls between you crumble even now, after everything. Still so on guard.

She wanted to do whatever it took to be part of your life: be respectful, give you space, be a friend, and she fricked up because you were supposed to be hers, and you would be, if she hadn’t lost her mind all that time ago.

She tried to ease the anxiety by texting you after the party, but when she looked down into the glow of the phone screen, rereading the words she’d typed out in apology, they seemed like the most laughable thing on the planet: rambles of incoherent, disconnected foolishness. She almost unsent them. You didn't respond anyway.

Tossing her phone aside, she picked up the guitar tilted against the side of her wardrobe with hesitation, and held it to her body, adjusting to regain fragments of familiarity. It felt a lot heavier than it used to, like the shadow of an old soul lingers around it, shaky fingers, greyed hair, gruff hum.

Her fingers strummed discordantly, in some distracted attempt at stringing together a tune, but no words came to mind when it was rampant with great hurricanes of guilt that dated back to times she didn’t even remember. A problem she couldn’t quite seem to rid herself of.

Now, she squats beside the dog’s makeshift food bowl under the porch light as fireflies flutter between the clusters of cobwebs bound to it, and she inspects the flecks of dust settled over the pet store biscuits when something clicks in her mind. The dog’s been acting weird. The barks have quieted to naught, he hasn’t gone outside to take his daily shit yet, and come to think of it, Ellie’s not sure he went yesterday either, but most importantly, the food has gone untouched.

After a Google search, Ellie bounds up the stairs, scouring the rooms for him, and stopping with a thumping heart when she spots his dark coat flopped atop a rug dejectedly. She kneels beside him and runs her fingers through the tufts of fur, muttering,

“You not feelin’ too good, goober?”

A wheezy sigh fills the silence, almost as if in response, and Ellie’s brows furrow in worry.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner. C’mon, let’s get you to the vet.”

10 minutes later, she’s in Tommy’s truck, the engine growls but she realises she doesn’t think she can do this alone. She’s formed a weird bond with the dog, greyed coat and warm eyes. They feel homely in a way that makes her stomach churn and her throat tighten. There’s a slight squeak of the leather steering wheel in her grip as she tenses.

Tommy’s out, Ellie’s not quite ready to see Maria, Jesse’s working nights, and a quick text exchange reveals Dina’s currently being knocked out by cramps.

She holds her phone in a shaky hand, glancing back at the dog who’s laying quiet on the floor and then looks back at the screen. It often hits her how small the number of people she can turn to is. Well, the list isn’t quite empty now. She’s yet to ask you.

So, with a thumb hovering over your number, twitching in hesitance for a few moments, she decides to bite the bullet and hits call. A few rings pass, each saturated with the increasing intensity of her heartbeat, and then you answer.

“Ellie?”

Your mind is foggy with sleep but you find yourself sitting beside her once again. The journey is quiet; you don’t feel the tension you thought you would. Maybe it's the fatigue obscuring your observation skills.

She steers the truck into the car park and gets out, jogging over to your side to open your door and help you down. She grunts as she urges the dog out of the van and they scuttle along down to the entrance side by side. You smile to yourself at the sight a couple of steps behind.

Not many questions were asked during the short phone call.

“I uh- Are… Are you free - right now?”

“Um, yeah, I’m free, why? Is everything okay?”

“My dog’s not looking too great and I gotta take him to the vet, I guess… I don’t really know… what I’m doing.”

She has a dog?

“Okay… Do you… Do you want me to come with you?”

The receptionist tells Ellie the dog needs to be on a leash and she apologises before taking a seat.

The waiting room’s quiet and Ellie looks a mess. Her hair is shorter, choppier, just barely hanging over the curves of her ear. You remember it looking longer in the pictures of her while she was back in LA. She needs help fixing it up. You can picture her craning her neck in the mirror to snip at stray locks. Cute. She bounces her foot incessantly and the fidgeting doesn’t hide the shaking of her hands. Her eyes tell you she’s somewhere else - a place you think you recognise from all those years ago.

You know what she needs, watch her distant eyes flit down to the sight of your hand over hers, bringing her back to the surface. Baby steps.

When the vet gives the verdict, that the issue shouldn’t last longer than a week, injects antibiotics into the scruff of the dog’s neck, Ellie’s shoulders seem less tense and you set off home.

There are thoughts that sometimes should stay internal, impulses you probably shouldn’t act upon.

But you love her. And you’re older. Less kind feelings about the concept of regret.

“Are you okay?”

She sighs, a slight croak in her voice but she smiles,

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. You-uh still living with Dina?”

“Mhm, but don’t drop me off there.”

Ellie turns to face you, eyes glancing back at the road repetitively,

“What? You don’t- You don’t have to do that-”

“Obviously I don’t. I want to.”

There’s a slight pause as she looks over your features and then shifts her focus back to the road, whispering,

“Okay.”

Then, Ellie looks up at the dog through the rearview mirror.

“You scared me there, old man, thought you were gonna throw up on my bed or something. Shit in the bathtub or something.”

You chuckle and she grins in that adorable way that drew you to her in the first place,

“I don’t know, dog’s are dumb. They do dumb shit.”

She tells you she just calls him Buddy and Buddy seems better already. He sleeps soundly in the backseat as Ellie’s fingers tap idly against the steering wheel. She glances over at you now and then, like she’s trying to make sense of the thoughts in your head through the expression on your face.

The door to the old house is like a portal to the old world, and when it’s open, you’re stepping into a memory. You can’t figure out if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. Ellie drops her keys onto the counter and moves to let Buddy settle in the corner of the couch, running her hand over his fur with veiny hands and tender movements, you almost feel a phantom touch down your spine. What it elicits in you seems a little dangerous.

A worn pair of sneakers is sprawled out by the door. How the fuck does she still have those?

You take a seat by the dog and try not to sound too tense,

“How have you been? I mean… with everything?”

It’s a loaded question, and she knows it, maybe too much so. Her jaw tightens for a moment, but she exhales slowly and settles beside you, her knee brushing yours, and, even though she’s very aware of it, she doesn’t move it away.

“Sobriety?” she asks, her voice careful. You nod.

Ellie leans back, resting her head against the couch. She stares at the ceiling, her fingers drumming against her thigh before curling into fists and imprinting crescent moons on her palm. Is she fighting the urge to pull away? She was always retreating when things got too close, too real. Your stomach is sinking.

“It’s… hard,” she admits, taking you by surprise though her voice is barely above a whisper.

“Some days are better than others. I haven’t…”

She pauses, taking in air like it’s suffocating to think about.

“I haven’t used anything in a while. Not since LA.”

“Good. I’m glad, Ellie. That’s good.” you say softly, knots loosening in your heart, but you keep your eyes trained on her, analysing every little expression, every little movement. Her lips twitch into a faint, almost bitter smile.

“Yeah. But it’s not just about not using, you know? It’s… so much… Everything else. Dealing with everything else… It’s so hard not to keep… chasing something, distracting myself, running away instead of facing it…

I fell into it so quickly before… I shouldn’t have… I should’ve tried to let you in.”

Swallow, the memories are filling your mouth, and they sting your insides as they move through you, still sharp as ever. Peace is all you need for her. Peace is all you need for her.

You don’t really go to her gigs anymore. It’s a wonder she still does them, comes home drunk out of her mind every time.

It’s haunting her every day.

The door opens, not surprising. You could hear her fuck around with the keys outside the door for a while before a gust of wind washes over you. She rushes to the bathroom and throws up again, dry heaving because there’s nothing to come out but alcohol.

It’s almost 4 AM. You rise to your feet and crouch down beside her, rubbing small circles over her back and feeling the nubs of her spine and the ripples of her ribcage beneath her thin T-shirt.

“Stop,” she spits out with a scratchy throat and through a choked sob.

You sit with her for a while, until she gets up and walks to her office.

The door closes behind her, leaving loud nothingness in her workroom.

As you lay in bed, gasps carry through the air. You wish, with everything in you, there was a way to heal these wounds, but you can feel it sinking, crashing.

“We can’t change the past, Ellie. And even if it hurt, I don’t blame you for what you did. You needed to leave. And… I just wasn’t what you needed at the time… You weren’t ready for a relationship. Running was all you could do.”

“I don’t want to run anymore,” she whispers, her voice firm despite the tremble in it,

“It’s weird… You’re right. I think I needed to get away from this place… Being here… The posters, the books, the desk, it’s like I kept finding little pieces of… kid me. And Joel.”

Her voice almost catches on his name but she looks at her hands and navigates the minefield of memories, so much better than she used to be able to.

“But looking at them now… I just… I feel like I can face it.”

Laced through her words, images of his face. Grief which rushed through her, mind, heart and soul. The guilt - the longing, that burdens her spirit, little by little, pieces dissipate into fireflies and fly away. Fragile steps towards being able to look him in the eye - the essence of him left behind in her life.

250,000 Miles is whirring through an old CD player, there’s a box of stir-fry on the table by Ellie. You’re sitting before her, laughing at her for pretending to know how to use chopsticks, and at the fact that she’s absolutely tanked at this game of Catan. But she’s grinning at you, and her chest feels warm.

“Alright, it’s literally 1 AM, we need to pack this up. I’m becoming delirious.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You scoff, your lips still curved into a smile, getting up to carry your dishes to the sink, “Shut up.”

She scoops the empty cans of cola vanilla scattered around the table into her arms and drops them by the sink to rinse them out beside you as you dry your hands. You catch her smirking and nudge her, watching her scoff and whisper,

“What?”

Ellie turns to you and her cheeks are tinged pink. You're grinning at her and she's smiling at you and it feels so natural, the soft curve of your back, the chub of your cheek, natural to fall back into that old rhythm; it’s so easy to forget that she isn't years back in the past, to just lean in so you can feel the warmth of her breath fan your lips.

An exhale catches in your throat, a sharp thrum in your chest as your eyes flit down to her lips. You begin to close the distance, but hesitation is inevitable. The fear of hurting, of falling into the ravenous love you felt before it's ripped away from you again.

Ellie doesn’t push, her eyes dropping to the space you give. She knows she fucked up. You have a girlfriend, and you want to be nothing more than friends.

“Sorry,” she mutters, her voice thick with regret.

But you need her to know now, that you want this as much as she does, that you need her as much as she needs you. That you miss her so much.

“I broke up with Alexis.”

Ellie looks up at you with those wide eyes.

“Let’s take our time, Ellie. We don’t have to rush into anything.”

She can’t help the way her eyelashes flutter, lips curve down into a reverse smile.

The couch is a tight squeeze with Buddy still asleep at the end of it.

You told her you were okay with sharing the bed, but she insisted, not wanting to push any further after what transpired earlier. The living room is cold - must be a draught coming in from somewhere. She knows she won’t be able to fall asleep here.

Hesitant again, she sits up, and then makes her way to the bedroom, taking her place on the left side of the bed, facing you. And when you open your eyes, she doesn’t turn away.

“Night, El.”

“Goodnight.”

61 notes · View notes

midnightwritingsessions · 3 days ago

Text

Cigarettes and conversations

Summary: After having a bad day a stranger comforts you at the bar. This stranger somehow becomes a big part of your life.

Requested

Masterlist

A/n: working the 6 days before Christmas in retail is not for the weak I swear 🥲 I’m sorry for not being active but I should be back now my hours at work are going back down

Sorry it’s quite short!

The pub was buzzing with life, laughter, and music spilling out through the slightly cracked door. Inside, your friends were chatting away, entirely immersed in their conversation. But you couldn’t focus tonight, not with the weight of the day sitting squarely on your shoulders. So here you were, standing just outside in the crisp evening air, your coat pulled tight against the chill. A cigarette dangled from your fingers, glowing faintly in the dim light of the streetlamp. You took a slow drag, trying to let the nicotine calm the storm brewing in your head.

“You alright there, love?” The voice came from a few feet away, startling you slightly. You turned your head and immediately froze. It was him. Louis Tomlinson, standing casually with his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. His blue eyes held a hint of concern, his head tilted just enough to make it clear he was genuinely asking. You blinked, unsure what to say. “Uh… yeah, I’m fine. Just needed a breather” you said while pointing to behind you to the pub. He nodded slowly, his gaze flickering to your cigarette. “Mind if I join you?”. “Sure” you said, your voice coming out more casual than you felt.

Louis stepped closer, pulling out his own pack and lighting up with practiced ease. He leaned against the wall beside you, his movements relaxed but deliberate. For a moment, the two of you smoked in silence, the sound of distant chatter filling the space between. “Long day?” he asked finally, breaking the quiet. You exhaled a puff of smoke, glancing sideways at him. “You could say that”. He chuckled softly. “I could tell. You’ve got that look about you”. “What look?”. “You know” he said, gesturing vaguely with his cigarette. “The ‘I’d rather be anywhere else right now’ look”.

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it, and Louis’s lips curved into a small smile. “Am I wrong?” he asked. “No” you admitted, shaking your head. “You’ve got me there”. He gave a small hum of acknowledgment, taking another drag. “Well, at least you’re out here. Better than bottling it all up, yeah?” You nodded, glancing down at your shoes. “What about you? Why are you out here instead of inside with your mates?”

Louis grinned. “Maybe I just had a feeling someone out here could use some company”. The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and for the first time that evening, you felt the tension in your chest ease ever so slightly.

Over the next half hour, the two of you chatted about everything and nothing. Louis had a way of drawing you out, his playful banter balancing perfectly with his moments of genuine interest. You found yourself laughing at his quick wit, forgetting for a while why you’d even needed to escape in the first place. When you finally stubbed out your long gone cigarette, Louis did the same, turning to you with a curious look. “So” he said, “you heading back inside?” You hesitated, unsure if you were ready to dive back into the noise and energy of the pub. Louis seemed to pick up on your hesitation, because he added, “Or we could stay out here a bit longer. No pressure”. You smiled, grateful for his understanding. “Let’s stay. It’s quieter”. “Good choice” he said, his eyes twinkling.

That night turned out to be the beginning of something neither of you could have predicted. Over the weeks that followed, you and Louis kept in touch. He started texting you casually little jokes, updates about his day, or random thoughts that made you laugh out loud. Before you knew it, those texts turned into phone calls, and those phone calls turned into plans to meet up. At first, it was just friendly, grabbing coffee, taking a walk in the park, sharing another cigarette outside a different pub. But with each meeting, you couldn’t help but notice the way Louis looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, or the way his voice softened just slightly when he said your name. You hoped that you weren’t imagining these things and that maybe in the not so distant future he might act on whatever it is he’s feeling. Looking back you were now more grateful for the bad day you had, never imagining that it could have lead you to something so special in the future.

#fandom #x reader #x y/n #fluff #louis tomlinson #one direction #x you #midnightwritingsessions #louis tomlinson x reader #one direction x reader #louis tomlinson fluff #louis tomlinson x you #louis tomlinson imagine #louis tomlinson fic #louis tomlinson fanfiction #louis #x y/n fluff #x you fluff

54 notes · View notes

scumashling · 3 days ago

Text

Caretaker and Whumpee's First Meal Together

Past non con drugging, former Whumpee Caretaker

Caretaker has gone to painstaking lengths to make sure every aspect of the dinner is perfect, from the meat to the crispy potatoes to the dinner cocktail. It is, after all, Whumpee's first real dinner since they got away from Whumper, and after everything they'd been put through, and how skittish Whumpee still is, Caretaker wants more then anything for it to be a good one. The dinner is going well. Whumpee talks with their hands a lot, bright eyed and friendly, if a little nervous, a tight smile across their face. All seems well, except as Caretaker digs in they notice Whumpee isn't. They seem distracted, less interested in eating the meal and more into cutting it up into bite sized pieces and shuffling them around the plate. Whumpee is also spending an unusual amount of time observing the glass that holds their drink, holding the beverage up to the light, only taking scant, small sips, as if trying to taste for something.

"Is there something wrong with the food?" Caretaker asks, crestfallen at the idea that the first meal they prepared had failed to impress. Whumpee's eyes dart up, the forced grin they'd been wearing all night stretching further.

"Oh no! You did such a good job, Caretaker! I'm very grateful." They reassure caretaker. Their voice does not sound genuine, words coming out in rapid fire as if they'd rehearsed them in their head. God damnit.

"If you don't like it, I can make-" Caretaker sighed. Whumpee's left hand slams downs on the table before Caretaker can finish, the right still clutching the glass in their hand tight. The way they slightly tremble shakes the table and sloshes their drink, voice quickening to a high pitch. Caretaker detects a strained note of panic, despite Whumpee's efforts to mask it.

"No, no no no, please don't bother yourself with that, you must've worked so hard and I'm so thankful for everything you've done-its just-I just-" Whumpee's eyes zip back to the glass in their right hand, studying the liquid inside.

It has been a long time since Caretaker had been with Whumper. Sometimes, the memories seem so far away that Caretaker wondered if the whole ordeal had happened to someone else, or if Caretaker had simply made the whole thing up. It didn't help that Caretaker had spent most of that horrible time drugged out of their mind, courtesy of Whumper, unable to move, barely conscious yet all to aware of what was happening at the same time as Whumper hurt them.

It suddenly dawns on Caretaker that Whumpee fascination with the glass might not be out of politeness in the face of an inedible meal. They were looking for signs, strange taste, a strange fizz, if the liquid was cloudy, searching for bits of pills or oil floating on the surface. Caretaker remembers doing the same.

Caretaker knows what they have to do. They stand up, striding to the other side of the table.

"Can I see your drink?"

Caretaker doesn't wait for Whumpee's permission before taking the glass from their hand, downing about half of the glass of the dark red liquid, and promptly plucking a bite sized piece of meat off their plate and eating it up. When Caretaker sat back down, they could see Whumpee's eyes had gone wide, their shoulders bunched in anticipation as if they expected Caretaker to explode. They both waited in silence for a minute, until Caretaker offered them a small smile.

"You should try some. It's really good. And you're so skinny."

When Caretaker failed to explode or collapse on the floor and Whumpee was sure it was safe, they exhaled, their shoulders relaxing, and they tentatively took piece of meat from the plate and began to chew. Their eyes immediately lit up in delight and they had another, and another, and another, washing each bite down with the drink until the whole meal was gone.

#whump #recovery whump #caretaker #whump snippet #whump prompt #past whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump blog #might repurpose this for my redo of healer rewrite #caretaking #noncon drugging #past noncon drugging

36 notes · View notes

crazywolf828 · 1 day ago

Text

Hey there friends

I wanted to hold off making any donation posts until I knew how much it would cost but the situation got a lot more dire.

Mom's had a heart attack, my grandpa died, and my uncles are coming after our house.

My grandfather died just before Christmas, it was a shock to all of us as he seemed to be doing fine. His final wishes were to be cremated and spread over the beaches with my grandma, everyone has known this, but because he didn't write a will before getting sick with Alzheimer's and dementia all of his children have to agree on what to do with his body. If they don't he gets turned over to the state and disposed of, and we never get him back.

Yesterday my mom had a mild heart attack, she's still in the hospital now (though she seems to be doing better) because we found out my uncles are refusing to cooperate. I'll explain the full story under the cut but they haven't been around for over twelve years and are now coming after our house.

The funeral is at minimum going to be 4k not including any lawyers we need to get to get control of his body and fight my uncles. If you can spare anything at all, please I'm begging more now than ever before, donate if you can or just reblog.

Thank you all, so much, for everything you do and have done.

My uncles have never been around, the last time was after a settlement from my grandmothers wrongful death where they took almost all the money. We got enough to buy our current house and that was it. My mom and grandpa specifically put on the deed that they both owned it so my uncles couldn't steal it once my grandpa passed away.

Well, we found out it is considered an asset, until we are able to get a death certificate to get his name off the house and give my mom full ownership, my uncles can technically try and get a part of his assets (even though we have no other money).

We haven't seen them in 15 years. They weren't around when we had to take care of my grandpa after his surgery in 2016 and his decline in mental health after. We couldn't afford to put him in a home so we did what we could.

They weren't there during the outbursts and anger of my grandpa not knowing who we were, having to give him baths, change his diapers, taking him to the hospital, making sure his food was soft enough he could eat it. But now they think there's money on the line and they want to bleed us dry when all we have is our house.

We were told all of this yesterday at the funeral home, told that if we don't go to court or they don't all agree on what to do with his body then he gets turned over to the state and disposed of. We would never get him back.

The stress caused my mom to have a minor heart attack, she was transferred to a bigger hospital and is currently having a cath test done because she already has an autoimmune disease.

I can't do much else to help other than come on here and ask for help, I have so many of my own illnesses that prevent me from working and the government is giving me a tough time trying to get on disability.

It's a lot and I'm just so lost and I'm sorry to ask again, I'm sorry to make another donation post, but please, we need this so much, every bit helps.

#im notgood at it but maybe if you donate i could draw your pet if thats any incentive?#i feel bad asking so much of everyone #its just been such a year and im just so tired #i just want to make everything okay again #but i feel so helpless #donate #donations #donate if you can #kofi #ko fi support #please help #bills #signal boost #boost #don't mind me

37 notes · View notes

caramelpenguin · 3 days ago

Text

"What do I need to do again?" Simon’s voice is low, careful.

Wilhelm gulps. "Just, like, be yourself. How you were. Around me." Saying it feels like digging his own grave. His stomach is tight, his breath shallow, as if the air is too thick to pull in. Everything around him—the polished marble floors, the grand chandeliers, the echoes of distant voices—is too pristine, too suffocating.

He glances at Simon, his hand brushing against Wilhelm’s for just a moment before retreating. The brief touch stings like a burn.

Two months. They haven't seen each other in two months. Not since it was decided that perhaps this relationship wouldn't work out, that their love wouldn't be able to weather the storm of the Royal Court, of the whirlwind that Wilhelm has been brought up in. He convinced himself that it was the right thing to do. He'd rather remember Simon and his happiest moments with soft glow. Not a harsh ending where it would inevitably culminate in a fiery eruption.

It seemed to be an invisible agreement that neither would manage being 'friends'. Maybe one day, but not yet. Not when everything was a bit too raw. The past two months were like concrete hardening in his chest, only reminding him of how deeply he had loved and how devastatingly he had been loved in return.

"Take a deep breath, yeah?" Simon turns so that he's facing Wilhelm directly, blocking them from the rest of the empty sterile corridor. "In and out with me, Wille."

Wilhelm’s breath stutters, but he tries. He inhales shakily, and then exhales, eyes darting up to meet Simon’s. His curls are the same, his gaze just as warm, just as deep. Wilhelm’s heart is an old wound tearing open. He wonders why they let it end, why they broke up. He asks himself why he lost the battle, why his sword couldn't be sharper and his shield steadier.

Two months ago, he had promised himself that this was the right choice. A break-up included not initiating unnecessary contact, it meant burying their love, locking it in a box that only he would open in private. Wilhelm didn't tell his family about the break-up. He couldn't. Because he knew his mother would only say she saw this coming. She'd raise her nose and her chin would be sharp and she'd speak as if she held all the secrets to the universe - 'people like Simon aren't right for you, Wilhelm."

That’s why Simon is here now, standing in this empty corridor before they step into the lion’s den. Wilhelm invited him to this royal event to prove her wrong—to prove to her that their love wasn’t some fleeting, silly thing. Even if it’s all fake now. Even if this is the last shred of Simon he’ll ever hold onto.

"We don't have to, you know." Simon shuffles even closer. His fingers brush Wilhelm’s again, and this time they linger. Wilhelm wants to kiss him. He aches. He wants to go back in time and rewrite history. "We don't have to show our faces."

"She'll only use that against me later." Wilhelm replies, voice tight. His hand clenches in Simon’s, and he forces himself to loosen it. He can’t seem too desperate, even if he feels like he’s drowning.

"Alright then," he says. Simon’s eyes are so dark, so familiar. He’s seen those eyes full of love, fury, joy—he’s seen everything Simon has to give. All Wilhelm feels is the unbearable weight of what he’s lost. "If you're comfortable."

I'm always comfortable with you, Wilhelm almost says. Simon's presence unravels him, makes him weak, makes him smile in that unguarded way where his teeth show. He can't imagine anybody else by his side.

#theyre so in love #young royals #wilmon #young royals fanfiction #yr drabble #yr ficlet #merry christmas #if u celebrate

40 notes · View notes

lavenderchqn · 1 day ago

Note

Hello!! If reqs are still open may I ask for an enamel cup of rooibos tea :'). If you're taking fic suggestions too, I've been thinking about office workers au.. or where you're both forced to go to an office party and wind up drunk!!

"AIRÉN"

synopsis — after finishing your first big project at your current workplace, you as well as your secret partner are forced to attend a party full of alcohol... and well, chaos ensues pairing — alhaitham x gn!reader warnings — mentions of alcohol, being drunk, people forcing others to drink for their own amusement notes — thank you for the request! I really enjoyed adding a secretive

Keeping a secret can be gruelling, not to mention keeping a relationship undercover when it is clearly against the rules of the workplace.

You sigh, dotting the last sentence of the report you had been writing to finish the biggest project you’d ever taken since starting to work at this job. You can barely keep your eyes open, having spent over four hours just on the damned thing.

Your fingers ache from typing, and your brain feels like mush, but at least it’s done. You lean back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head as you glance at the clock on your desk — 1:47 p.m. Everyone else had long gone to have lunch, leaving the office in eerie silence, save for the faint hum of the fluorescent lights.

You’re muttering to yourself, trying to figure out what’s the next thing you ought to do. Well, sending the report would be the wisest thing to do, followed by having some food. And yet, despite having opened the platform, for some reason you seem to hesitate to forward the files.

This project had been something of a breakthrough of yours. You’ve grown quite attached to the idea of it, as well as to all the people involved with it. Letting it go like that… makes you feel like you’ve lost a part of yourself.

“Done.” Out of nowhere, Alhaitham comes over to send the report to your place, causing you quite the scare. The bloody man, who not only was the one you’ve been in a relationship with for the past few months but also the complete opposite in terms of work ethics.

Ever since you could remember, you had always put so much effort into everything you did — school, work, hobbies… Staying to work overtime was basically second nature to you by this point. How on earth did you end up with a guy who’s out of the office the second clock strikes 5 o’clock.

A notification ping is what gets your focus back in order, your partner still hunched over your chair. Everyone in the office has now been notified of your accomplishment.

“Good job on that, [Y/N],” Alhaitham says, putting your laptop in sleep mode. “Time for lunch.” He says, straightening his back and offering his hand to help you stand.

You blink up at him, still a little stunned by his sudden appearance and the swiftness with which he took over. He has a knack for stepping in at the most unexpected times, and his calm, composed demeanour always leaves you slightly off balance.

“Could you not sneak up on me like that?” You say, placing a hand on your chest to steady your racing heart. Oh how glad you are, that the office takes the small gestures the two of you share as just being friends. You have been keeping it very lowkey, but with a person of Alhaitham’s personality, any sudden behaviour change would be noticeable.

He raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable but with a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips. “You were so deep in thought I figured knocking would be redundant.”

“You figured wrong,” you mutter, but a small smile betrays your annoyance. Despite yourself, you’re grateful for his presence. Even if his approach is less conventional than yours, he has a way of lightening your workload — and your mood.

When you hesitate to take his hand, still thinking about the report and the massive effort behind it, he leans down slightly, his voice growing softer. “You’ve done enough for today. Give yourself a break. You deserve it.”

His words strike like a chord. You exhale a deep breath, finally taking his hand. As he helps you to your feet, you can’t help but notice how effortlessly he anchors you, both physically and emotionally.

“I can’t believe you sent it without giving me a chance to go over it one last time,” you grumble as the two of you walk towards the elevator.

Alhaitham gives you a nonchalant shrug. “If you went over it, we’d miss lunch. Besides, I know how thorough you are. There’s no way that report has a single flaw.”

You glance at him, half-suspecting him of sarcasm, but his tone is genuine. A faint warmth spreads through your chest at the single inkling of a compliment from him, and you finally allow yourself to relax for the first time in hours.

As the elevator doors slide open, you glance around to make sure no one’s nearby before stepping inside together. Although there’s not much risk in being caught at a place like this, having the security of nobody joining you is lovely.

“We ought to be back at 3 p.m.,” Alhaitham says, picking the ground floor and casually leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. “Silence your phone.”

“Where are we going?” You ask as the elevator begins its descent.

“There’s a café down the street I’ve been meaning to try. Quiet, good food, not too crowded. Since we’re thirty minutes late to lunch there’s going to be even fewer people.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Since when do you scout out lunch spots?”

His lips quick into a faint smirk. “Since I started dating someone who forgets to eat whenever working on a big project.”

Your cheeks warm at his remark, but you roll your eyes to cover it. “Well, I hope it’s as good as you say.”

After a short while, you’ve reached your destination — the ground floor. The elevator dings and the doors open.

The two of you barely leave the elevator when all you can hear is the hurried steps of somebody getting close to you.

“[Y/N],” Your manager comes up to you, a cheerful smile across his face. “Congratulations on finishing the project!”

Your heart skips a beat, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. Out of instinct, you step slightly away from Alhaitham, creating a safe distance between the two of you. It’s a subtle movement, but you know your partner doesn’t miss it. It’s almost as if his perception of your behaviour doubles in power whenever at work.

“Thank you,” You reply, managing a polite despite the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. “It was a team effort.”

“Nonsense!” Your manager exclaims, clapping you lightly on the shoulder. “You’d led this project beautifully. I’ve already forwarded your report to the higher-ups. They are going to be very impressed with your work.”

“That’s great to hear.” You say though you feel like you’re barely holding onto your professional facade. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Alhaitham’s lips twitch, as though he’s holding back a smirk at your discomfort.

Your manager continues, oblivious to the underlying tension. “From what I’ve heard, a party is going to be held to celebrate the accomplishment. Be sure to attend it, you had played the first fiddle, after all.”

At the single mention of a work event, your chest tightens. You’re probably the second to last person who would show up to one of those — only being after Alhaitham.

“It’s going to be mandatory.” The manager says, already predicting your decline of the offer. “The official note will probably be sent out by the end of the day. The same goes for you, Alhaitham.” The male looks at your partner with a sharp eye. Alhaitham, on the other hand, only rolls his eyes already tired at what’s about to come.

With that, you’re left to your devices. Food first, complaining about a mandatory “team-bonding” party second… After all, you both know it’s only a means for the higher-ups to gather costs for tax returns and get drunk, nothing more, nothing less.

You haven’t even entered the venue yet and you already feel lightheaded at the overwhelming stench of alcohol in the air. It’s far too for your liking, and you barely got here.

“The lady of the hour!~” Nilou, the only sane human resources lady as well as the person you would’ve considered your second work bestie at the company, greets you the second you enter the room with a cheerful smile on her face. “Congratulations on your project, dearie.”

She envelops you in a warm hug, her genuine excitement so infectious that it momentarily dissipates your dread about the evening. Despite the suffocating air of the venue, her cheerful presence feels like a breath of fresh air.

“Thanks, Nilou,” You say, managing a small smile. “I didn’t really have a choice but to show up, though.”

She chuckles, pulling back to look at you. “I figured as much. But hey, at least there’s free food and a chance to celebrate your hard work. You deserve it.”

You glance over her shoulder, scanning the room for familiar faces. Sure enough, there’s your manager already drunk off his mind and in a discussion with some other department head, as well as a few clusters of employees milling about, drinks in hand. Thankfully, there’s no sign of Alhaitham just yet. He’ll likely be just on time because he doesn’t get paid to show up earlier.

Unfortunately, you manage to lock eyes with somebody near the bar and they’re already headed your way to offer you a welcome drink.

“Bottoms up, [Y/N].” The person says, showing a glass into your palm and getting everyone present to look at you. Speak about being put on the spot… and a health code violation. You just hope Nilou has taken note of the person who offered you the drink.

There’s a slight hesitation in your hand. From what you can gauge, what you’ve been given is an entire glass of rectified spirit — arguably the strongest alcoholic beverage out there. You just hope they won’t be idiotic enough to force-feed you these after this one.

With some drunkards posing as your coworkers egging you on, you drown the glass in one go, feeling nauseous as it goes down your throat. You will absolutely be regretting that the second you get home. You almost take a stumble, but Nilou is right there to help you steady your body and lead you to have a seat.

“Please—“ You hiccup, getting tipsy off the singular glass already. “Give that person a stern talk…”

Nilou’s face twists into a mix of concern and irritation. She helps you settle onto a nearby chair, patting your back gently. “I’ve got you covered.” She says, her voice firm. “Don’t worry about them. That was unacceptable and completely uncalled for.”

Your head feels like it’s spinning, the potent alcohol hitting your system much faster than you anticipated. You try to focus on breathing, hoping to steady yourself before things get worse. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Nilou storming off toward the offender, steps strict and purposeful and her expression unreadable.

A few moments later, a familiar voice breaks through the haze. “It’s only six p.m. and you’re already drunk?”

You glance to see Alhaitham standing over you, his hands crossed and an almost imperceptible crease of concern on his otherwise stoic face. For once in his life, he decided to push his hair back and dress in a grey suit. Oh fuck, he’s hot.

“You’re late.” You mumble, your words slurring slightly as you rest your head on your hand. “Wasn’t there to save me…”

He quirks an eyebrow, crouching down to your level. “What happened?” He says, his tone unexpectedly soft. You just hope your tipsy state is not misreading his actions.

“Someone thought it’d be hilarious to offer her a glass of a strong spirit,” Nilou interjects as she returns, her irritation still simmering. She gestures towards the culprit, who now looks sheepish under the sharp glare of Nilou’s superiors. “Is there any possibility you’d be able to look after [Y/N] tonight, Alhaitham?” Nilou asks, taking a pause before adding. “I’m going to be on the lookout for that comedian in specific.”

Alhaitham sighs, nodding. “Leave it to me, I suppose.” He says curtly.

“Thank you so much!” Nilou smiles at his sacrifice, promising in her mind to stand behind the male tremendously in case HR is ever on his case.

Not leaving immediately after finding out you were drunk was the biggest mistake Alhaitham had made today. Somewhere along the way he also got tipsy… despite being the designated driver of tonight’s escapade, resulting in him having to witness your drunken antics with a mild headache. The way he had to stoop that low as to message Kaveh to get over to pick the two of you up, was unbelievable.

“You knoww…” You start, leaning against him. “You’re so mean to everyone but me…” Archons above, you are going at this again? It was around the third time you decided to take pride in being the sole worker who Alhaitham didn’t actively despise.

Alhaitham groans inwardly, his tipsy state making your slurred words seem both endearing and annoying. He supports you as you cling to his arm, your weight pressing against him, making it impossible to avoid your proximity.

“You’re exaggerating,” he mutters, his voice low and almost monotone despite the slight flush on his cheeks. “I’m mean to you too, silly.”

“You aren’t!” You insist, poking his chest weakly. “You’re all stoic and scary… but with me, you’re… kinda sweet. Not to mention… you look fucking hot in grey.”

His lips twitch, almost forming a smirk, but he quickly composes himself. “Maybe you’re half annoying, ever thought about that?”

You gasp, your drunken eyes widening as if he’d just confessed the world’s greatest secret. “Oh my god, you do like me more than anyone else!”

The volume of your declaration turns a few heads, and Alhaitham instinctively glances around, his hand gently gripping your waist to steady you and keep you from attracting further attention. “Lower your voice,” He says, his tone firm despite being full of worry.

By some sheer miracle, he makes eye contact with Nilou, who smiles awkwardly. She is fully aware you’re less than in your fullest brain space. Although, from Alhaitham’s point of view, she is not aware of your relationship… he trusts her in not reporting whatever you’re doing to the higher-ups.

Tilting her head in confusion, the redhead joins the two of you, worried for your state.

“Maybe it’s best you take her home now?” She asks, crouching slightly to check your face. “I’m worried she’ll get even more unhinged.”

Alhaitham nods, his hand steady on your waist. “That’s the wisest decision. I appreciate the help, Nilou.” He shifts his weight, ready to guide you out of the venue.

“Good luck,” Nilou says with a knowing smile. “If you need any help, just call me.”

Once outside, the crisp night air hits you like a splash of cold water, slightly sobering you up but not enough to stop your drunken musings. Alhaitham leads you to the car he definitely shouldn’t be driving tonight, opening the passenger door for you.

“Get in,” He orders gently.

You hesitate, squinting up at him. “But you drank too. Who’s driving? You can’t drive. That’s dangerous.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Give it a minute. Just get in the car, alright?”

Satisfied with his answer, you slump into the seat, leaning your head back and mumbling something unintelligible about being betrayed by other coworkers. You barely even notice when your words begin to slur together, not due to alcohol in your body, but from sheer exhaustion.

“—cking hell,” A curse is what ultimately wakes you up from the lovely nap you were having. “This is the last time that group of pillocks gets me out to go anywhere.”

“Pillock?” A higher voice questions. “Can’t believe some alcohol turns you into an old man!… Well, you do have the hair for it.”

“Kaveh.”

“So-Sorry!”

Ah. So the driver must’ve been Kaveh — Alhaitham’s unrecognised best friend as well as an architect you’ve grown to become friends yourself. You decide against saying anything, your brain is far too foggy to even make coherent sentences. You’re pretty certain you’re already having the first symptoms of a hangover.

And tomorrow? Well, you will be joined by your partner in groaning about a massive headache, luckily aided by Kaveh’s good heart… and multiple glasses of water.

date of posting — december 27th 2024

#lavv.writes #lavv.teaparty #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin oneshots #genshin fanfic #kinich x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you

32 notes · View notes

xomakara · 1 day ago

Text

After Midnight

SUMMARY | You are on a blind date, and the guy turns out to be a total jerk. Increasingly uncomfortable, but too polite to get up and leave, you are grateful to be rescued by Yangyang, the cute college frat boy in your class and the object of your affections, who comes over and gives you an out.

PAIRINGS | Yangyang x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked

GENRE | smut, college au, non-idol au, blind date gone wrong

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, slight dirty talk, praising, vaginal penetration

LENGTH | 8,887 words

TAGLIST | ---

NETWORKS | @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Finally managed to get something written for Yangyang! Finally! Thank you @shadowkoo for the beautiful banner! I hope you all like it and enjoy it 💚

The dimly lit bar feels like a scene out of someone else’s life. The hum of conversation buzzes around you, but it feels distant, muffled by the tightening knot in your stomach. You shift uncomfortably on the barstool, your fingers tracing the condensation on your glass. Across from you sits Wooseok—your blind date. A guy who seemed charming over texts but now drips with an arrogance so thick it could coat the walls.

“So,” he says, leaning back arrogantly, his smirk as cocky as his tone. “You into sports? Or are you one of those artsy types?”

You force a smile, trying to mask the irritation clawing at you. “A little of both, I guess.”

His laugh is sharp, dismissive. “Yeah, I heard that one before. Bet you love yoga or something, right? All that ‘namaste’ crap.”

Oh god. You glance at your half-empty drink, wishing it were stronger, faster. Anything to numb this awkwardness. Why did you agree to this? Why didn’t you just ghost him when his condescension became clear over text? But no, you’d been raised too well for that. Too polite. Too much of a people-pleaser. And now here you are, stuck.

He picks up the thread again, his voice rising above the ambient noise. “Anyway, I’m more of a gym guy. You know, real fitness. Not that flaky stuff. Gotta stay in shape, especially if you want to keep up with me.”

You nod absently, your eyes darting across the room. Relief floods through you as you spot Yangyang, the cute frat boy from your class. He’s sitting with a group of friends a few tables over, laughing and sipping beers. His smile lights up the room, and you feel a pang of longing.

If only this were a date with him.

As if sensing your gaze, Yangyang glances over. Their eyes meet, and for a moment, everything else fades away. His lips curl into a reassuring half-smile, and you feel a flutter of hope. Maybe—just maybe—he’ll save you from this nightmare.

But then your date leans closer, his cologne overpowering even the faint smell of beer and smoke. “So, what do you say we get out of here? Maybe grab some dessert? My treat, of course.”

His tone is smooth, almost too smooth, and there’s something in his eyes that makes your skin crawl. You open your mouth to decline, but the words catch in your throat. Before you can muster a response, Yangyang stands up, his attention shifting fully to you.

“Y/N!” he calls out, his voice warm and playful. “How’s it going?”

Your date frowns, his annoyance obvious. “Who’s this guy?”

You feel a surge of gratitude as Yangyang approaches, his presence radiating confidence.

“I’m Yangyang,” he says, extending his hand to your date. “A friend of hers. Classmate, actually.”

Your date shakes his hand reluctantly, his jaw tight. “Nice to meet you.”

Yangyang’s grin widens, and he turns to you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You weren’t answering my texts earlier, so I figured I’d come find you. What’s the deal? Having fun?”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift. But then you realize—he’s giving you an out. A way to escape this unbearable situation. “Oh, uh… yeah, sure. It’s been… interesting.”

Yangyang chuckles, his gaze flicking between you and your date. “Well, I hate to interrupt, but we’ve got that group project meeting tomorrow, and I need to go over some notes with you. You free to head out now?”

There’s a pause, and you can practically see the gears turning in your date’s head. Finally, he straightens up, his pride clearly wounded. “Sounds like you’ve got plans. Guess I’ll let you go.”

You stand quickly, relief washing over you. “Thanks for… uh, dinner? Drinks? This.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “Yeah, no problem. Have fun with your… homework.”

Yangyang steps closer, his arm brushing yours as he guides you toward the exit. “Don’t be rude, man. Have a good night.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, once you’re out of earshot.

Yangyang grins, his dimples deepening. “No problem. Couldn’t let you suffer through that alone. You looked like you needed rescuing.”

You laugh softly, the tension easing slightly. “You have no idea. How did you even know it was me?”

“Oh, I saw you walk in earlier,” he admits, his voice lowering. “Figured I’d wait a bit, see how things went. When things got weird, I knew I had to intervene.”

You glance at him, your cheeks heating. “That’s… kind of amazing, actually.”

He shrugs, looking away briefly. “Happens to the best of us. Anyway, you okay? Want to grab some coffee or something? My treat.”

Your heart skips a beat. Coffee? With him?

“I’d like that,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

You both step outside, the cool night air hitting your faces. Yangyang walks close enough that both of your arms brush occasionally, sending shivers down your spine.

“So,” he says, his tone light but teasing. “What’s next?”

You turn to him, your pulse quickening. “Depends,” you reply, feeling bold suddenly. “What do you want to do?”

“Funny you should ask,” he whispers, his voice low and husky. He meets your gaze, his eyes dark and intense. “Because I’ve been thinking about this all night.”

Before you can respond, he steps closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “Do you trust me?” he asks, his voice barely audible.

You swallow hard, your heart racing. “Yes.”

He smiles faintly, his hand reaching out to lightly touch your waist. “Good. Because I don’t wanna take this slow.”

And then, without waiting for an answer, he presses his lips to yours. His kiss lingers on your lips, a sweet, dizzying sensation that makes your knees weak. You glance up at him, his dark hair catching the faint glow of the streetlights, and he grins, a playful glint in his eyes.

“So,” he says, his voice light but teasing, “coffee? Or do you want to see if I can make this even more interesting?”

You laugh softly, feeling a strange mix of nerves and excitement. The date with Wooseok feels like a distant nightmare now, washed away by Yangyang’s effortless charm.

“Coffee sounds good,” you reply, tilting your head slightly. “But if you’re trying to impress me, you might have to work harder than that.”

He chuckles, the sound low and warm, and nudges you playfully. “Challenge accepted.”

The two of you walk side by side down the dimly lit sidewalk, the quiet hum of the city surrounding you. Yangyang leads you to a small, cozy café tucked away from the main street, its windows glowing warmly. Inside, the air smells of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries, and the soft murmur of conversation fills the space. A young barista behind the counter glances up with a bright smile as you approach.

“Hey, Yangyang,” the barista says, their tone friendly but subtly flirtatious. “Long time no see. What can I get for you tonight?”

Yangyang smiles back, leaning casually on the counter. “Hey, Ruby. Two coffees, please—something strong. And maybe a slice of that chocolate cake.”

“Coming right up,” Ruby replies, their fingers already moving deftly over the espresso machine.

As Ruby works, Yangyang turns to you, his expression shifting to one of curiosity.

“So,” he begins, his voice dropping just enough to feel intimate in the bustling café, “what made you agree to a blind date with him? He seemed… not your type.”

You sigh, shaking your head as you think back to Jake’s arrogance. “I don’t know. I guess I thought it was worth giving it a shot? But yeah, he was… not my type. At all.”

Yangyang nods, his gaze lingering on you as if he’s trying to read something deeper. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. Not when you’ve got me around.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you meet his gaze, feeling a sudden intensity in the air between you. Before you can respond, Ruby sets down two steaming mugs on the counter, each topped with a swirl of foam.

“Here you go,” Ruby says, sliding the plate with the chocolate cake toward you. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks,” Yangyang says, taking the mugs and handing one to you. “Let’s grab a table.”

You follow him to a small corner booth, the dim lighting casting shadows that make the space feel private. As you sit across from him, the warmth of the mug in your hands contrasts with the coolness of the night outside. Yangyang takes a slow sip of his coffee, watching you over the rim of his cup.

“So,” he says again, setting his mug down carefully, “tell me something about yourself. Something real.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling both amused and intrigued by his directness. “Something real? What kind of question is that?”

He shrugs, leaning back in his seat, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “You seem like someone who doesn’t open up easily. So, I’m curious. What’s something most people wouldn’t know about you?”

Your heart skips a beat at the question, and you shift uncomfortably, unsure how much you want to reveal. But there’s something about the way Yangyang looks at you—calm, attentive, and genuine—that makes it hard to resist.

“Okay,” you say slowly, picking at the edge of the cake with your fork. “I… write poetry. Like, really bad stuff, mostly. But it helps me process things.”

Yangyang’s lips curl into a slow, appreciative smile. “That’s pretty cool. Do you ever show it to anyone?”

You shake your head, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks. “No. It’s just… for me. Private.”

He nods thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving yours. “Fair enough. Maybe one day, though, you’ll let me read some. If you want to.”

The suggestion hangs in the air, heavy with possibility, and you find yourself wondering what it would be like to share that part of yourself with him. Before you can dwell on it too much, Yangyang reaches across the table, his fingers brushing lightly against yours.

“You don’t have to answer that,” he says softly, his touch sending tingles up your arm. “But I hope you know I’d listen. To anything you wanted to say.”

You swallow hard, feeling the heat of his words settle deep in your chest.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Yangyang’s expression shifts, a flicker of something raw crossing his face before it settles into a gentle smile.

“Maybe because I like you,” he admits, his voice low and sincere. “And maybe because I saw the way he was treating you, and I couldn’t stand it. I wanted to fix it. For you.”

The honesty in his words leaves you breathless, and you realize, with a jolt, that you’ve been holding onto so much tension since the start of the night. With him, though, it’s different. Easier. Like you can finally exhale.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly.

“Yeah, I did,” he replies, his voice firm but warm. “Because you deserve better than that. And if you’ll let me, I’d like to show you how much better.”

The sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and you find yourself nodding slowly, a knot of emotion tightening in your throat.

“Okay,” you manage to say, your voice shaky.

Yangyang’s smile returns, brighter this time, and he leans forward, his hand slipping beneath the table to rest on your thigh. The contact sends a spark through you, and you bite your lip, glancing up at him with uncertainty.

“I really like you, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice filled with promise. "Tell me if I’m moving too fast.”

Your pulse quickens, and you feel the weight of his hand on your leg, warm and deliberate. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

He laughs softly, his breath feathering against your cheek as he closes the distance between you. “Like I said before, I don’t wanna take this slow.”

And then his lips are on yours again, soft and insistent, pulling a quiet gasp from deep within you. His hand tightens slightly on your thigh, drawing you even closer, and you melt into the kiss, your fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie.

The world seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the electric hum of connection. His tongue traces the curve of your bottom lip, and you part your mouth willingly, deepening the kiss until you’re both breathless. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire, and he presses his forehead against yours, his breath hot and uneven.

“God, you’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice ragged. You don’t have the chance to respond before he speaks again, his voice thick with urgency. “We should go somewhere quieter. Somewhere we can focus on each other.”

Yangyang’s hand slips into yours, his fingers interlacing with yours as he leads you out of the café. The cool night air nips at your skin, but his touch is warm and grounding, a steady anchor in the otherwise chaotic evening. His hoodie swishes against his jeans as he walks, and you can feel the faint hum of excitement radiating off him.

“Where are we going?” you ask, your voice just above a whisper, curious and a little nervous.

He glances at you, his smile soft and mischievous. “Trust me?”

You hesitate for only a moment before nodding. “Yeah.”

He squeezes your hand tighter, like he’s trying to reassure you without saying it aloud. And then he breaks into a light jog, tugging you along with him. You don’t question it, following his lead with a laugh bubbling up in your chest. There’s something freeing about running through the streets with him, letting go of all the awkwardness and tension from earlier tonight.

The park comes into view after a few minutes, its gates already closed for the night. But Yangyang doesn’t seem fazed. He pulls you along the iron fence until he finds a small gap where a section of bars has rusted and bent outward.

“Shortcut,” he says with a wink, crouching down to slip through first. You hesitate again, looking around nervously. The park is eerily quiet, the shadows of trees stretching across the ground like skeletal hands. But Yangyang sticks his head back through the gap, his eyes bright and encouraging. “Come on, I promise it’s worth it.”

Swallowing your doubts, you duck through the gap after him, brushing dirt off your jeans as you straighten up. Yangyang takes your hand again, guiding you deeper into the park, away from the well-lit paths and toward the darker, more secluded areas. The crunch of leaves underfoot grows louder, and the scent of damp earth fills the air.

Finally, he stops near a large oak tree, its branches twisted and gnarled, reaching out like they’re trying to embrace the sky. The moonlight filters through the gaps in the canopy above, casting dappled patterns on the ground. It’s quiet here—peaceful, almost magical.

"Here?" You asked.

"Yeah," Yangyang nods. "Look up."

You tilt your head back, feeling a rush of awe as you take in the view. The stars glitter against a dark blue background, like tiny pinpricks of light in an infinite canvas. The air feels clear and fresh here, free from the noise of the city, and the wind rustles softly through the trees, adding to the serenity.

"I wanted to bring you to my spot," Yangyang murmurs. "Where I go when everything gets too much. When the world feels overwhelming."

You looked at him. "I'm sure you bring other girls here."

"Nah," he replies, a flicker of regret crossing his eyes. "I came here before I even joined the frat. Back when it was just me, getting by on scholarships and part-time jobs."

You reach for his hand, running your thumb along his knuckles gently. "You had a tough time?"

He smiles sadly. "Yeah. And even now, when I've got help with tuition and the whole student life deal... the pressures are still there, you know?"

It's strange to hear him talking like this, opening himself up to you. It feels vulnerable and intimate. You take a tentative step towards him. "I think I can relate. Even though I have a scholarship and good parents, I still have to balance work, studying and finding time for social life, and it can be a lot."

Yangyang nods, and you can tell he understands. He tilts his head, searching your face as he searches his next words. "What would help you deal with all that?"

The question takes you by surprise. You think it over carefully. "Spending time with friends. Releasing emotions through writing. Watching tv." You look back up at the stars and try again. "But the thing that helps most, the most soothing thing for me, is just going somewhere alone, listening to nature or the city. Finding somewhere peaceful and calming."

"Somewhere like here?" He asks.

"Yeah," you sigh contentedly. "I haven't found somewhere quite like it, though."

His hands settle on your hips as he pulls you in for a sweet, lingering kiss, his teeth lightly grazing your lower lip. You smile against his lips, and the butterflies in your stomach turn into something wild. He backs you up against the trunk of the tree, his body flush with yours, and you can't help but run your hands up his neck and into his soft, dark curls. The moonlight illuminates his face, revealing the hunger in his gaze. You close your eyes as he trails kisses down your neck, sending a thrill up your spine. He lifts his head and searches your gaze again.

God, he tastes so good, you think, your mind hazy with desire. His flavor is sweet, like the coffee you shared earlier, but there’s an undercurrent of something wild and untamed, something that sets your pulse racing even faster.

When he pulls back, his breath comes out in uneven puffs, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first day I saw you in class.”

Your lips curve into a smile, giddy and breathless. “Really?”

He nods, his curls bouncing slightly. “Every time you walked into the room, I couldn’t focus on anything else. You have no idea how many times I almost asked you out, but I kept chickening out.”

You laugh softly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Well, I’m glad you finally did.”

“Me too,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. Then his lips are on yours again, softer this time, more deliberate. His hands roam down your sides, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to rest on the bare skin of your lower back. The coolness of the night air contrasts sharply with the warmth of his palms, sending a shiver up your spine.

You press closer to him, your own hands fumbling with the zipper of his hoodie. When you pull it down, he shrugs it off his shoulders, tossing it aside without a second thought. Underneath, he’s wearing a plain white T-shirt that clings to his torso, outlining the muscles you only catch glimpses of during class. Your fingers dip beneath the fabric, skimming across his skin, feeling the tautness of his stomach beneath your touch.

He groans into your mouth, his body tensing under your exploration. “Jesus,” he breathes, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “You’re killing me.”

You smirk against his lips, feeling a surge of confidence. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” he growls, pulling you even closer. “Not even close.”

His hands move higher, sliding up your ribcage until they’re cupping your breasts over your bra. You arch into his touch, a needy sound escaping your throat. His thumb brushes across your nipple, teasing it into a hard peak, and you gasp, your head tilting back as pleasure shoots through you.

“Yangyang…” you murmur, half-pleading, half-whining.

He presses a quick series of kisses along your jawline, his breath hot against your skin. “Tell me what you want,” he says, his voice thick with hunger.

You bite your lip, suddenly shy. “I…”

He grins, his teeth flashing in the dim light. “That’s okay. Let me guess.”

And without waiting for your answer, his hands shift again, one sliding down to palm your ass while the other slips beneath your waistband, his fingertips trailing dangerously close to where you need him most.

Your breath hitches, your whole body trembling with anticipation. “Yangyang…” you say again, this time more urgently.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes gleaming with desire. “Yeah?”

“Please,” you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible.

His answering smile is slow and triumphant. “Anything for you.”

Your breath catches in your throat as Yangyang’s lips press against yours again, this time with a hunger that sends shivers down your spine. His hands move to your hips, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. You melt into him, your fingers threading through his dark curls as the world around you fades away. The cool night air is no match for the heat building between you, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest.

Just as you’re about to deepen the kiss, a sharp voice cuts through the silence. “Hey! You two! What do you think you’re doing?”

You freeze, your body stiffening as you recognize the authoritative tone. Slowly, you pull away from Yangyang, your eyes widening as you turn toward the source of the noise. A tall, broad-shouldered park ranger stands a few feet away, his arms crossed and his jaw set in disapproval. His uniform fits him like a glove, emphasizing his muscular build, and his sharp, observant gaze locks onto you both.

Yangyang curses under his breath, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Crap,” he mutters, tugging at your hand. “Let’s go. Now.”

Before you can respond, he’s already pulling you deeper into the shadows beneath the tree. Your pulse races as you follow him, the thrill of being caught making your stomach twist in knots. You glance back over your shoulder, your heart pounding as the ranger takes a step closer, his flashlight sweeping across the ground.

“I said stop!” the ranger calls out, his voice echoing through the park.

You press yourself closer to Yangyang, your breaths coming in short bursts. “What do we do?” you whisper, your voice trembling.

Yangyang glances around frantically, his mind working quickly. “We need to lose him,” he says, his eyes darting toward a small trail leading deeper into the park. “Come on, let’s go this way.”

Without waiting for your response, he drags you along the path, his grip firm but reassuring. The trees close in around you, their branches creating a natural barrier from the ranger’s view. You stumble slightly, the uneven ground making it difficult to keep up, but Yangyang’s hand stays locked around yours, guiding you forward.

The sound of heavy footsteps grows louder behind you, and you can hear the ranger muttering under his breath. “Kids these days… always causing trouble,” he grumbles, his frustration evident.

Yangyang smirks despite the situation, his playful nature peeking through. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, squeezing your hand. “We’ll give him the slip.”

You can’t help but laugh nervously, the tension between you and Yangyang growing stronger with every step. As you round a corner, Yangyang pulls you into a dense bush, muffling your laughter with his hand. You hold your breath as the ranger’s flashlight beam passes by, illuminating the leaves around you momentarily.

When the light disappears, Yangyang releases a shaky laugh. “That was close,” he says, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

You nod, your heart still racing from the adrenaline. “Too close,” you agree, your voice barely above a whisper.

Yangyang’s gaze softens as he looks at you, his playful demeanor melting into something more serious. “You okay?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You nod again, feeling a warmth spread through you at his concern. “Yeah,” you say, smiling faintly. “Just… a little shaken.”

He chuckles, his confidence returning. “Well, I guess we showed him, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face doesn’t fade. “I wouldn’t exactly call that showing him.”

Yangyang shrugs, his dimples deepening as he grins. “Close enough. Now…” He pauses, his expression turning mischievous once more. “How about we get out of here before he comes back?”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his suggestion. “And go where?”

His grin widens, and he steps closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “My place,” he murmurs, his voice low and inviting. “It’s not far. We can be there in ten minutes.”

Your pulse quickens at the thought, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest. Part of you wants to playfully protest, to tease him about his boldness, but the other part—the part that’s been drawn to him since the moment he walked into your life—is already saying yes.

Yangyang must sense your hesitation, because he adds, “I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

You look into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you find is sincerity and a flicker of desire. And maybe, just maybe, a touch of vulnerability. It’s that last part that seals the deal, pushing aside any lingering doubts.

“Okay,” you say softly, your voice barely audible.

His answering smile lights up his entire face, and without another word, he takes your hand and leads you out of the bush, navigating the dimly lit paths of the park with ease. The cool night air brushes against your skin, sending goosebumps down your arms, but Yangyang’s touch keeps you grounded, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos.

As you leave the park behind, the streetlights guide your way, casting long shadows that stretch and shrink with each step. Yangyang’s pace quickens, his excitement palpable, and you can’t help but match it, your own anticipation building with every passing second.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity but is probably only a few minutes, Yangyang stops in front of a modest apartment building. His free hand reaches into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys as he unlocks the door. He ushers you inside, his movements almost frantic with eagerness.

The apartment is cozy, with simple furnishings and a faint scent of laundry detergent and fresh air—just like him. Yangyang leads you to the living room, where he finally lets go of your hand, turning to face you. His chest rises and falls slightly, his breathing still a little uneven from the rush of the escape.

“So,” he says, his voice low and teasing, “what do you think?”

You take a moment to survey the room, your eyes lingering on the small details—the bookshelf filled with textbooks and novels, the worn couch draped with a blanket, the faint hum of a refrigerator in the background. It’s nothing fancy, but it feels lived-in, comfortable. And somehow, that makes it even more appealing.

“It’s nice,” you admit, your voice soft.

Yangyang’s smile returns, warmer now, less playful and more genuine. “Good,” he says simply, stepping closer. “Because I didn’t bring you here just to show you my apartment.”

Your breath hitches as he closes the distance between you, his hands reaching up to cradle your face. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, and you can feel the sincerity in every brush of his fingertips. When his lips meet yours, it’s slow and deliberate, a marked contrast to the urgency of earlier.

This time, there’s no rush, no fear of being interrupted. Just the two of you, lost in the embrace that neither of you seems willing to break.

Yangyang breaks the kiss, his eyes locking with yours. His hands slide down to your shoulders, then lower, tracing the curve of your back until they settle on your hips. The heat between you is palpable, a tangible force that seems to push and pull at the edges of your restraint.

“Do you trust me?” he asks quietly, his voice low and steady.

You nod, though the question sends a shiver through you. Trust. It’s such a simple word, yet it feels so heavy in this moment. You realize, almost suddenly, that you do trust him—completely. There’s something about the way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the world who matters, that makes it impossible not to.

“Good,” he says, his lips curving into a sly smile. “Because I want to show you something.”

Without waiting for a response, he takes your hand and leads you deeper into his apartment. The hallway is dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting long shadows across the floor. The air is quiet, save for the faint sound of your footsteps and the occasional creak of the wooden floorboards beneath you.

Yangyang guides you to a door at the end of the hall, one you hadn’t noticed before. He pauses for a moment, glancing over his shoulder at you before reaching out to turn the handle. The door swings open with a soft click, revealing a cozy bedroom bathed in the warm light of a bedside lamp.

His bedroom. The thought flutters in your mind, sending a fresh wave of excitement coursing through you. Yangyang steps inside first, pulling you in after him. The door closes softly behind you, sealing the space as your own private world.

The room is simple but inviting, with a large bed taking up most of the space. A pile of pillows rests against the headboard, and a few books are scattered haphazardly on the nightstand. A faint scent of cedar lingers in the air, mingling with the familiar smell of laundry detergent that seems to follow Yangyang everywhere.

He turns to face you, his eyes dark with intent. “I wanted to bring you somewhere… quieter,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Somewhere we could be alone.”

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the rhythm accelerating as his words sink in. Alone. The word carries a weight that’s both thrilling and terrifying. You glance around the room, taking in the details—the softness of the carpet underfoot, the warmth of thelighting, the way the shadows seem to dance along the walls. It’s intimate, cocooning, and somehow perfectly fitting for what you know is about to happen.

Yangyang steps closer, his hands settling on your waist again. This time, there’s no hesitation in his touch—just confidence, laced with a tenderness that makes your knees weak. He leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “Just let me take care of you.”

The request hangs in the air, a silent promise that sends a jolt of electricity through your veins. You nod again, unable to find the words to respond. Yangyang smiles, a slow, knowing grin that makes your stomach flutter.

With one hand still resting on your waist, he reaches up with the other, sliding his fingers through the loose strands of your hair. The gesture is gentle, almost reverent, as if he’s savoring the texture and weight of it. You close your eyes, tilting your head slightly to give him better access, and feel a soft hum of pleasure ripple through you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted to tell you that since the first day I saw you.”

The confession catches you off guard, sending a rush of warmth flooding through your chest. You open your eyes, meeting his gaze, and see nothing but honesty reflected there. It’s overwhelming, the depth of feeling in his expression, and it leaves you momentarily speechless.

Before you can respond, Yangyang shifts his grip, guiding you toward the bed. His movements are deliberate, each step calculated to draw you further into the moment. When you reach the edge of the mattress, he stops, his hands sliding from your waist to rest on your hips.

“Sit,” he commands softly, his voice a velvety rasp that sends shivers dancing down your spine.

You obey without hesitation, lowering yourself onto the plush comforter. The fabric is soft beneath you, and the faint scent of linen fills your nostrils, adding another layer of sensory overload to the mix. As you settle in, Yangyang kneels beside the bed, his eyes never leaving yours.

For a moment, there’s silence—a charged, electric kind of stillness that seems to hold the weight of everything unsaid between you. Then, slowly, deliberately, Yangyang reaches out, his fingers brushing against the buttons of your shirt.

“May I?” he asks, his voice a teasing half-whisper.

You nod again, your throat too tight to speak. Yangyang grins, his eyes gleaming with mischief, and begins working on the buttons with expert precision. Each pop of the closure seems to echo in the quiet room, a symphony of anticipation that heightens the tension between you.

When the last button slides free, he tugs the fabric apart, revealing the thin layer of lace beneath. Your breath hitches as his eyes flick downward, briefly scanning the sight before returning to your face. “So pretty,” he murmurs, his tone a mix of awe and desire.

Without warning, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the hollow of your throat. The sensation is fleeting but insistent, a tease that leaves you yearning for more. You instinctively tilt your head back, giving him better access, and feel a surge of satisfaction when he obliges by trailing kisses along your collarbone.

“Yangyang...” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling with a combination of need and uncertainty.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips curved into a wicked smile. “Shh,” he says gently. “Just let me love you.”

And with that, he resumes his exploration, his hands and mouth working in tandem to unravel every thread of resistance within you.

Yangyang’s hands move with an almost reverent grace as he undresses you, his touch light but deliberate. Each piece of clothing he removes feels like a revelation, not just to him but to you as well. You feel suddenly exposed, yet entirely safe in his presence.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and gravelly with emotion. His fingers brush against the edge of your bra, hesitating for a moment before carefully unclasping it. The fabric slips away, revealing you to his gaze, and you catch a flicker of awe in his dark eyes.

“You don’t have to say that,” you whisper, your cheeks heating under his intense scrutiny.

Yangyang shakes his head, his smile soft and genuine. “I know what I see,” he says simply. His hands cup your shoulders, thumbs brushing lightly over your collarbones, and you shiver at the tenderness of his touch. “And what I feel… it’s overwhelming.”

He leans in then, his lips finding the sensitive skin just below your ear. A sound escapes you, half-laugh, half-groan, as his teeth graze the lobe gently. His hand trails down your arm, fingertips leaving a trail of fire in their wake before wrapping around your wrist. He guides your hand to his chest, pressing your palm flat against the rapid thudding of his heart.

“Feel that?” he asks, his voice thick with desire. “That’s all you.”

You nod, unable to speak, your own heart pounding in response. Yangyang’s free hand snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The solid warmth of his body against yours is intoxicating, and you cling to him instinctively.

His lips find yours again, this time with a hunger that leaves no room for hesitation. The kiss is deep, consuming, every stroke of his tongue igniting a blaze within you. His hand slides lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, and you gasp into his mouth as his fingers tease the soft curve of your hipbone.

“Yangyang,” you breathe, clutching at his shoulders for balance.

“Tell me what you want,” he rasps, his breath hot against your cheek. His fingers dip lower, brushing against the wetness between your legs, and you clench your thighs together, both resisting and inviting his touch.

“I—” Your voice falters, uncertain, as his fingers ghost over your most sensitive spot. You arch into the sensation, your hips tilting involuntarily.

Yangyang chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your body. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his tone reassuring. “Take your time. We have all night.”

His words send a shudder through you, a mix of relief and anticipation. You relax slightly, letting go of some of the tension that had been coiled tightly within you. Yangyang takes advantage of your momentary surrender, his fingers sliding back between your legs, this time with purpose.

The first tentative touch makes you jerk, a sharp intake of breath escaping your lips. Yangyang holds still, watching you intently, his expression a blend of concern and arousal. “Too much?” he asks, clearly trying to read your reaction.

You shake your head quickly, your cheeks burning. “No,” you manage to whisper. “Just… unexpected.”

A slow grin spreads across his face, and he resumes his exploration, his fingers tracing delicate patterns against your folds. You bite your lip to stifle a moan, your body responding eagerly to his ministrations.

“So responsive,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with admiration. “You’re incredible.”

His fingers press harder, delving deeper, and you gasp, your back arching off the bed. Yangyang shifts his position slightly, angling his fingers to hit that perfect spot inside you, and you feel yourself spiraling closer to the edge.

“Yangyang,” you choke out, your voice trembling with need. “Please…”

“Please what?” he teases, his voice low and husky. His free hand cups your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple in rhythm with his finger movements.

You whimper, torn between the dueling sensations of his touch. “I… I don’t know,” you admit, frustrated by your inability to articulate the raging storm within you.

Yangyang chuckles again, the sound dark and intimate. “That’s okay,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss you deeply. His fingers quicken their pace, stroking in and out of you with increasing urgency. “Let yourself go. Let me take care of you.”

The combination of his words and actions is too much, and you feel the wave building inside you, cresting higher and higher with every thrust of his fingers. Your breath comes in shallow pants, your body tensing as you approach the precipice.

“Yangyang, I—”

He doesn’t let you finish. Instead, he presses a hard kiss to your lips, swallowing your cry of release as you come apart in his arms. Your body shudders, waves of pleasure rolling through you, leaving you boneless and gasping for air.

Yangyang pulls his fingers from you slowly, watching your face with rapt attention. His eyes are dark, filled with a mixture of awe and possessiveness. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his voice raw with emotion. “You’re amazing.”

You blink up at him, still dazed from the intensity of your orgasm. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you manage to joke weakly.

Yangyang laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “Oh, we’re just getting started,” he says, his voice dropping to a teasing purr.

Yangyang’s hands trail down your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His touch is deliberate, almost reverent, as if he’s memorizing every curve and dip of you. When his fingers brush against the side of your thigh, you shiver, the sensation sending a spark of electricity through your veins.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. His eyes never leave yours, their intensity making your breath hitch. “I want to see you touch me.”

His words send a jolt of arousal through you, but there’s also a flicker of uncertainty. You’ve never been this intimate with anyone before, not like this. The thought of exploring his body feels thrilling and terrifying all at once. But when he guides your hand to his chest, the moment becomes too electric to resist.

Your fingers curl around the soft fabric of his hoodie, hesitating for just a second before you tug it up and over his head. The movement exposes the warm skin beneath, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You can feel the heat radiating from him, the thrum of his heartbeat underneath your palm. It’s intoxicating.

“Go on,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “Touch me.”

You do. Your fingertips trace the ridges of his collarbone, the muscles of his shoulders, the faint dusting of hair that trails down his sternum. Each touch sends a shiver through him, his breath hitching as your exploration grows bolder. When your hand skims lower, brushing against the waistband of his jeans, he groans, the sound raw and needy.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice breaking. “Don’t stop.”

His reaction emboldens you, fueling the fire that’s already burning between you. You let your fingers dip beneath the hem of his shirt, sliding along the taut planes of his abdomen. His skin is warm and smooth, the muscles beneath tense with anticipation. You can feel the way his body responds to your touch, the way he shifts closer, his breath fanning across your cheek.

“So good,” he rasps, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

His praise sends a thrill of pleasure through you, your confidence growing with each passing second. You slide your hand higher, brushing against the edge of his nipple, feeling it pebble beneath your touch. He gasps, arching into your hand as a low moan escapes his lips.

“Turn around,” he says suddenly, his voice commanding yet laced with urgency. “I want to touch you.”

You obey without hesitation, turning to face the bed and leaning forward slightly. The position puts you on display, your back arched and your ass lifted slightly. Yangyang’s breath hitches as he takes in the view, his gaze darkening with hunger.

“Jesus,” he mutters, his hands coming to rest on your hips. “You’re perfect.”

He strokes your sides, his fingers trailing up to your ribcage before dipping lower, pushing the material of your dress aside to expose the lace of your panties. The sight of them makes his grip tighten, his fingers pressing into your skin as he pulls them down slowly, revealing the curve of your ass and the delicate skin beneath.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he breathes, his voice rough with need. “I want to taste you.”

Before you can respond, he drops to his knees behind you, his hands cupping your ass as he presses a series of light kisses along the crease of your thigh. The sensation is electrifying, sending shivers of anticipation rippling through you. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, the promise of what’s to come making your core throb with need.

When his tongue finally makes contact, you cry out, your hands clutching the sheets as waves of pleasure crash over you. He licks a slow, deliberate path up your folds, his tongue darting inside you with relentless precision. The sensation is overwhelming, your body trembling as he works you with expert skill.

“Yangyang,” you gasp, your voice breaking as he grazes his teeth along your clit. “Please—”

He doesn’t let you finish. Instead, he bites down gently, the sharp sting followed by a rush of warmth that sends you spiraling. Your thighs tremble, your body tightening as he continues to stroke and tease, his tongue flicking faster and harder until you can’t take it anymore.

“I’m close,” you manage to whisper, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, his hands gripping your hips as he redoubles his efforts. The sudden surge of pressure builds rapidly, your body tensing as you teeter on the edge. And then, with one final thrust of his tongue, you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of pure bliss.

Your legs give out, but Yangyang catches you, guiding you gently to the bed. You collapse onto your back, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. He climbs onto the bed, hovering over you with a predatory smile.

“That was incredible,” he murmurs, his voice filled with admiration. “But we’re not done yet.”

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he positions himself between your legs. You can feel the thick ridge of his cock pressing against your entrance, the heat of him making you ache with need.

“Are you ready?” he asks, his voice low and strained.

You nod, unable to form words as your desire consumes you. With one swift movement, he pushes inside you, filling you completely. The sensation is intense, your bodies perfectly aligned as he begins to move.

Yangyang’s breath hitches as he slides into you, the heat of his body pressing against yours. You feel every inch of him, thick and demanding, filling you completely. His hips move with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His lips find yours again, kissing you deeply as he sets a steady pace, drawing out the moment.

“You feel so good,” he whispers against your lips, his voice low and trembling. “So tight… so perfect.”

His hands grip your hips, holding you firmly as he continues to thrust into you. You can feel the way he’s holding back, wanting to savor this moment, but the strain in his voice tells you just how much he wants to let go. Your own desire is building, spiraling higher with every movement of his hips. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him on, desperate for more.

Just as the tension between you reaches its peak, a loud POP echoes through the apartment, followed by the sudden absence of light. The room plunges into darkness, the only sound now the heavy breathing of the two of you.

“What… what was that?” you ask, your voice shaky and breathless.

“Power outage,” Yangyang replies, his tone amused but still strained. “Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves for a while.”

The darkness seems to heighten everything. Without the distraction of sight, your other senses become sharper. You can feel the warmth of Yangyang’s body pressed against yours, the weight of him grounding you. His breath tickles your neck as he kisses your collarbone, his movements growing more insistent as the adrenaline of the unexpected outage pushes him closer to the edge.

“Let’s not waste it,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with desire. He shifts slightly, adjusting his angle, and you gasp as a new wave of sensation hits you. His thrusts become deeper, harder, each one bringing you closer to the edge.

“Yangyang…” you moan, clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

“Tell me what you want,” he demands, his voice rough with need. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

“I want you… I need you,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “Don’t stop.”

He growls in response, his hips snapping forward with renewed urgency. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the silence, mingling with your ragged breaths. You feel yourself teetering on the brink, the pressure building inside you with every thrust. Yangyang’s hand moves between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit and stroking it with expert precision.

“Almost there,” he promises, his voice a harsh whisper. “Come for me. Let go.”

The darkness feels like a cocoon, wrapping around you both as you fall apart. Your body shudders, your muscles tightening around him as you reach your climax. Yangyang follows soon after, his movements becoming erratic as he buries himself deep inside you, letting out a deep groan as he spills inside you.

For a moment, all you can do is cling to each other, the weight of your bodies the only anchor you have in the dark. Yangyang rests his forehead against yours, his breathing slowly returning to normal.

“That was…” he starts, but trails off, his voice soft and vulnerable.

“Perfect,” you finish for him, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckles softly, kissing your forehead before pulling out of you and lying down beside you. You roll onto your side, facing him in the dark, your fingers tracing the contours of his face.

“What now?” you ask, your voice curious.

“Now…” he pauses, his hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now we wait. See how long this lasts.”

The thought sends a shiver of excitement down your spine. There’s something thrilling about the uncertainty, about being forced to slow down and enjoy the moment. You nestle closer to Yangyang, feeling his arm wrap around your waist as you rest your head on his chest.

“I could get used to this,” you murmur, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Yangyang’s chest rises and falls with a soft chuckle, his voice warm against your ear. “I could too,” he admits, his tone laced with contentment. “There’s something about the dark that makes everything feel… simpler. No distractions, just us.”

You smile into the darkness, feeling the weight of his words settle between you. His fingers trace lazy circles on your back, the gentle rhythm soothing yet electrifying all at once. The power outage has stripped away the usual comforts of light and sound, leaving only the raw connection between you two. It’s intimate in a way you hadn’t anticipated, but now that it’s here, you realize how much you crave it.

“Do you think we’ll be stuck like this for long?” you ask, your voice soft as you nuzzle closer to him.

“Who knows?” he replies, his lips brushing against your temple. “Maybe it’s a sign. A chance to slow down, to really feel each other without anything else getting in the way.”

His words send a flutter through your chest. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, the way he’s embracing the moment rather than letting it frustrate him. It’s one of the things you love most about him—his ability to find beauty in the unexpected.

“You’re right,” you murmur, tilting your head to press a kiss to his collarbone. “This is kind of nice. Just… being together like this.”

Yangyang hums in agreement, his arm tightening around you. “Yeah,” he says after a pause, his voice low and thoughtful. “It’s perfect.”

The silence stretches between you, broken only by the occasional rustle of sheets or the soft whisper of his breath. You trace the lines of his chest with your fingertips, marveling at how familiar yet endlessly fascinating his body feels. Each curve and plane feels like home, like something you never knew you needed until now.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks suddenly, his voice curious.

“I was thinking about how glad I am that you were there to bail me out of that bad date,” you admit, your voice soft but laced with gratitude. “If it wasn’t for you… I don’t even want to imagine how that night would’ve ended.”

Yangyang chuckles, the sound warm and comforting against your ear. “Well, I couldn’t let you suffer through that alone, could I?” he teases, his fingers brushing lightly over your shoulder. “Besides, I think we both know how much better this turned out.”

You smile, feeling a blush creep into your cheeks despite the darkness. “Yeah,” you agree, tilting your head to press a kiss to his chest. “This was definitely better. So much better.”

He hums in agreement, his hand moving to cup the back of your head gently. “I’m just glad I could be there for you,” he says, his tone sincere. “You deserve someone who makes you feel as amazing as you make me feel.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you tighten your hold on him, nuzzling closer. “You do,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “You really do.”

The silence between you is comfortable, filled with unspoken words and lingering touches. You trace the lines of his chest again, your fingers pausing over the faint scar near his ribs. It’s a mark you’ve grown familiar with, one that tells a story of its own.

“Do you ever think about how different things might’ve been?” you ask suddenly, your voice tinged with curiosity. “If you hadn’t shown up when you did.”

Yangyang pauses, his hand stilling on your back. “Honestly?” he says after a moment, his voice thoughtful. “I try not to think about it. Because the way things are now… this… it’s exactly where I want to be. With you.”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “Me too,” you murmur, pressing another kiss to his skin. “Me too.”

The power outage may have thrown you into darkness, but in that moment, you realize it’s brought you closer to something infinitely brighter. The moonlight and the stars seem to be flittering brighter above you and you decide, maybe, for tonight you won't wait for the lights to come back on.

Because this is perfect as it is.

#kvanity #ksmutsociety #nct #wayv #nct scenarios #nct stories #nct fanfics #nct imagines #nct smut #wayv smut #wayv stories #wayv fanfic #wayv yangyang #yangyang #liu yangyang #yangyang x reader #yangyang smut

48 notes · View notes

spellwell · 2 days ago

Text

secrets - dick grayson

dick grayson x reader one shot

fluff; sfw

warnings; none. characters may be out of character, this is my first time writing for them and I haven’t seen young justice in a while. Not edited well lol

universe: young justice

summary; Dick likes you, and you like Dick, it’s obvious. The only people that don’t seem in on it, are the both of you, the rest of young justice seems to have a plan to fix that.

By this point, you and the group of now nearly young adults have gotten quite close, you could even say they are like family. Every member seems to have their own very special relationship with you that has grown over time and nothing has quite as much value as that. Your relationship with Dick how ever, is probably the closest connection you’ve ever had. From the very start you took to him, finding his humor and opinions fit just right with your own, and everyone else has seemed to notice that as well. M’gann has always pushed the idea of you and Dick being more than friends, which you’ve admitted liking the idea of. Alas, your nerves have created a large pool of anxiety to sit at the bottom of your stomach at the simple idea of conveying your feelings to him.

“He obviously likes you back, in love even!”

“You’re nervous for no reason, what if someone else comes along? Don’t you want to secure him?”

“If you don’t tell him me and Conner will!”

“Oh come on y/n, why don’t you believe me?! He totally wants you!”

You’ve heard it all really, her begs and pleads, trying to reason with you to just gain the courage and tell him. Little does she know, it isn’t that easy and over time she’s seemed to give up. You’re not sure why you have such a hard time believing he would feel the same way, Dick is just so special and the chance that he doesn’t feel that way can’t be taken.

Other than that, everyone is very open and honest with each other, maybe even too open some times. That’s why their behavior’s have been… odd the past few days. Whispering, huddling, and glances to the side have made you question if there’s something wrong, but when you’ve asked they all say everything is fine and not to worry. Little did you know, they had a plan to fix this on-going back and forth between you and Dick.

“I actually can’t stand you, quit winning!” Aqua-lads laughing could be heard over Wally’s moaning and groaning. “Maybe if you were better at this game, you’d win.” Mg’ann walks over to you with a sheepish grin, motioning with her head over to the boys arguing on the couch. “How many times have they played this game today?” She asks, causing you to sigh and shrug your shoulders. “Today, you mean in the last week? Kid’s never going to win.” You both laugh and walk over to the couch, standing behind it to watch the boys start their new match. You could care less about the game, but watching Wally squirm always makes you laugh.

Conner makes his way into the room after a while of watching them argue, after Wally of course loses again. “Won’t you go a little easier on me dude, seriously it’s not even fun any more!” Conner throws his arm around the Martian next to you, rolling his eyes at the childish behavior. “You still wouldn’t win, if it’s not fun anymore how could you keep playing it? I could hear you shrieking from my room.” Wally whips around and shoots Conner a deadly look, one that seemed to not phase the super boy. “Oh yeah? You try beating this fish freak then!” Conner gives his girl friend a small peck on the cheek before hopping the back of the couch and taking a seat next to the boys. They began a new game and started at it, tension filling the room. “I don’t wanna be in here when Conner wins.” You said, walking off with a chuckle. Your best friend follows behind you, both of you heading back to the kitchen to snack on the grapes you’ve been picking at for the last hour.

Days like this, no missions, no jobs to do, tend to bore you all but the boys arguing always make the days go by faster.

The base announces that Robin has finally arrived, making you sigh in relief that there’d be someone to break it up when Wally finally loses his mind. “What did I miss?” His voice rings through the kitchen, making you smile. You turn to see him, his usual comfortable get up that he wears when he’s not actively Robin. “A whole lot of nothing.” You sigh out as he walks over and pops a grape in his mouth. You had gotten the green ones because you know they are his favorite, “green, my favorite.” He grins, walking over to the couch after stealing a few more. “Robin!” Wally yells with a grin, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his best friend arriving. “You’re here! They’ve been kicking my ass 1v1, you gotta jump in!” Dick takes no time hopping on the couch and grabbing a controller making you roll your eyes. All these boys do are play games in their free time, or spar with eachother when they are tired of that.

A few hours later, they decided they had enough of the silly games and wanted to eat. Being the good team mate and friend that you are, you decided to cook them something, feeling extra nice. They all sat on the couch, chatting and giggling while you slave away in the kitchen. You were left with your thoughts and the sound of bacon sizzling on the pan until Dick appeared behind you, watching the bacon cook. “Hey.” You nearly jump out of your skin, turning to see a chuckling Robin. “Scare you?” He said with a smirk, a gleam shining from his iconic sunglasses. You roll your eyes and softly smack him across the arm, “no.” He chuckles to himself again, grabbing the tongs from the counter and flipping a few pieces on the pan that needed it. “You can go sit down if you want, y/n.” A small blush threatens to crawl onto your cheeks, but your pride won’t let it. Dick is the only one that ever offers to help you cook, and you’ve always found that so sweet. “No, we can do it together.” You said, smiling up at him which he quickly returns.

As the bacon cooks and you listen to Dick talk about his day before arriving, you notice the racket from earlier had subsided… too much. From the kitchen, you look over to eye your friends on the couch who seem to be whispering like they have been for the last week. What on earth? Why do they keep doing that? Since when do we keep secrets? You decide to ignore it and focus back on what Dick is saying, along with the food that he just finished up. “Come get it!” He yells from beside you, turning off the stove and walking the pan over to the table. You find yourself forgetting the whispering, and instead begin to think about how sweet Dick truly is to you and the rest of the team, but especially you. Wally comes rushing in, everyone else following behind. “Thanks Rob.” He says with a grin before sitting down to munch and crunch. Everyone else takes a seat, including you. “Don’t thank me, thank y/n.” Dick said with a sheepish smile, taking a seat across from you and Wally.

Kid smirks to himself, leaning over and giving you a small peck on the cheek. “Thanks, y/n.” This is the first time he’s ever done something so flirtatious with you, besides his usual boyish humor. A small blush does creep onto your cheeks this time, a gulp attempting to swallow your confusion. “Yeah, no problem.” Dick seems to eye Wally, like he was also confused on why he did that but it was left at that, dinner commencing.

After everyone talked and ate, you decided that sitting and watching a movie would be fun and relaxing. The movie carried on normally, how any watch fest with the team would until Wally’s arm seemed to drape over your shoulder loosely half way through the movie. To be honest, you didn’t even notice it at first, until you felt him scoot a little closer on the couch. That was when you felt the weight of his arm, even a little tug to get you closer. Just like the behavior at the table this confused you, and flustered you at the same time. The feelings you have for Dick have never been something you’ve had for Wally, and you never thought he liked you like that either. You felt a pair of eyes staring into your forehead, which by investigation was Dick, who had a look on his face at what you assumed was the arm around you. No body else looked over or said anything, like this was normal and the movie is just that good, which it’s really not. You also let the arm thing slide, that was until about ten minutes later, you feel Kid’s hand begin to rub circles onto your upper arm. “Wally? What are you doing?” You ask calmly, scooting away a tad and glancing his direction. “Yeah Wally, what are you doing?” Dick’s voice comes from the other side of the couch, laced with irritation. “Oh I’m sorry y/n, am I not allowed to touch you?” Wally asks, softly, ignoring Robin. You go to open your mouth and respond but another voice cuts you off. “No. You’re not.” Dick’s voice sounds even darker than before, a look of disgust on his face. Wally’s lips turn into a smug smirk, his arm leaving your shoulder. “You’re not y/n, why not let her answer?” He says, now turning to you. Everyone’s eyes seem to be on you, some looks of intrigue like they want to know the answer and others just enjoying the show it seems. “Her answer is no.” Dick responds again before you can speak, but it isn’t like you knew what to say. Dick stands up and walks over, taking a quick seat on the other side of you. “What’s your sudden interest in y/n, huh? What makes you think she’d want you?” Wally smirks at him, that usual snarky little face he gets when he knows he has started something. “Why do you care so much, Rob? Jealous?” The idea of him being jealous makes a blush appear on your cheeks for the second time tonight. He tuts his lips at Wally’s question and sits back, arms crossed. “No.” This makes your heart ache a bit, but you decide to sit back and watch the screen again, happy to see everyone else finished with that conversation and do the same.

That night had ended, and the next day comes, starting like most days, until it got later and someone was missing. The night before everyone had decided to sleep there, but you watched as Dick left early, not saying a word to anyone. You know him well and this is very much unlike him, but no body seemed to bring it up.

After worrying about it all day, the base announces that Robin has arrived, making everyone who is currently sitting on the couch, look over in the direction he’s expected from. He comes in, seeming a bit more like himself as he starts talking to everyone about something Bruce was telling him this morning.

Wally had been normal all day, no incidents happening like yesterday, which makes you even more confused about the whole thing.

“Do you want to cook again, or are we ordering food?” M’gann asks, clearly having food on the brain. “Let’s give this babe a break and order something.” Wally says, motioning over to you. Babe? Why is he flirting with you? You go to tell him to knock it off honestly, you don’t get why he’s flirting with you, but M’gann and Conner interrupt, going on about what to order. You notice Dick go quiet after this, as do you. Wally’s hand comes down and rests on your knee, your eyes quickly darting down to it. Another pair of eyes seem to do the same, Dick’s eyes. He gets that same expression as he did last night, but this time he also looks… sad? Before you can move his hand, which you were about to do, Dick quickly stands up, but only you seemed to notice. His fist quickly made contact with Wally’s face, making him fall back into the couch. It was so quick, and it definitely caught everyone’s attention. “Hey!” Wally yells as he presses his hand to his own face, which was probably on fire. “You fucking knew!” Dick yelled, fists clenched. “You’ve always known how I feel about y/n and you have the nerve to go after her- in front of me!” Your face goes into shock, completely taken aback by what he said. “How dare you.” He says very seriously, but sadness laced his words. Before anyone could speak he storms off, in the direction of the room he stays in when he’s here. The room goes silent, eyes all quickly darting away from eachother. “I’m sorry, I set this up, I didn’t know he would get so upset.” M’gann finally spoke, making everyone look in her direction. “He wants to kill me.” Wally sighed, shoulders falling in defeat. You feel very confused and now borderline frustrated, finally you speak. “What’s going on?” You say, tone confused but firm. “What did you do?” You say, looking at M’gann. “It wasn’t just her, we planned it. We wanted one of you to confess your feelings so we set it up to make Rob jealous and confess, we didn’t know he would freak out on him.” Conner said from next to her, a guilty look painting all their faces. This has all been so confusing it just now hits you that, Dick likes you back.

“You have to go talk to him, I’ll take the beating for it later.” Wally says with a small side ways grin, making you sigh, a flustered feeling coating your stomach. “Okay…” You said softly, going to stand and walk in the direction he went.

You took your sweet time, feeling nervous, what do you say? A solid knock on his door is all you have the courage to do, but he doesn’t respond. You stand there for a moment, frozen in fear before you build up the courage to do it again. “What.” Is all you hear, flat and hurt. “Can I come in, Rob?” You say softly, hand on the door. It stays quiet before you hear a shuffle and the door open. You push your way in softly, seeing his figure stand next to the door, closing it behind you. “Do you really want Wally?” He asks, in a point blank tone, an expression you’ve never seen on his face. Your eyes widen in surprise, an answer stuttering out. “What? No.” You could tell from his eyes that he actually cried a bit, making you feel worse. “He- he didn’t mean it! It was just to get one of us to admit we like eachother.” His eyes now widened, picking up on the fact that you just admitted to feeling the same way he did the whole time. “So you don’t want him?” He asks, face softening much more than before. You shake your head, twiddling your fingers down at your waist, “no, I want you.” His eyes seemed to light up instantly, a grin appearing against his will.

“Yeah?” He said, a grin also quickly appearing on you as well. “Yeah.” It seemed like he’d never make a move, nervousness still covering his face so you move in closer and grab his jaw, gently placing a kiss on his lips. It doesn’t take but a second for you both to melt into each other, his hands coming to hold your waist. He pulls at you to come closer, a hum of satisfaction leaving his lips. This led to some more long awaited kissing, both of you clearly relieved to finally have what you’ve always wanted. He pulls away eventually, looking down at you with admiration in his eyes and swollen lips.

“I totally knew you’d want me and not a guy who sucks at video games.”

- end

thanks for reading, if you enjoy this please leave a request for more or any other interaction you’d like.

If you like Dick Grayson as much as me, join my community called ‘Dick Grayson fan club’ and post your own content!!

love, spell.

36 notes · View notes

docholligay · 6 hours ago

Text

Immediately after season one

My brain is a puddle out my ears, but hey! Only 400 more words and I'll have managed the 3000! Wish me luck!

This is about 700 words.

Minako wasn’t stupid. She paid attention to things, even when people thought she didn’t. That was part of the game. She paid attention, and she remembered things. Okay, they weren’t the things people thought she should remember, like the capital of…Greece, or whatever, or who the fuck was emporering when, but they were more important than that.

She didn’t get confused. So why now?

For last three weeks, Minako had felt like she was living in a snowglobe. Tokyo was as it had always been (but it isn’t) and school was boring (I’m forgetting something) and her friends still wrote from London (what was I doing in London?). But just at the edge of her life, she could see a curve, shiny and almost hidden by the falling snow around her. There was something outside, that she could not reach.

It was like losing a limb, except if you lost a limb, you could point to it and go, “Shit, my leg’s gone,” and whoever you’re sitting there with would go, ‘oh! That fucking sucks!” and they would feel bad for you, because your leg is missing, and everyone can tell your leg is missing.

“I feel wrong, and incomplete,” didn’t get the same reaction. Just a chuckle and a shrug that being a teenager was hard.

Minako Aino wasn’t herself. Or, she wasn’t fully herself. Parts of her had been cut out (like a ransom note) and pasted over (worse, the magazine that wrote the note) and nobody else seemed to be able to see it. There was something (someone? someones?) missing from her. She wandered around Tokyo, trying to find it (the thing that wasn’t real, except it was) but it kept running away from her, like a scared stray cat (a cat. Was there a cat? Blending into the fog, white maybe, but no, cats can’t…)

So Minako Aino rode the subway, and climbed up out of the station, stopping randomly to find the edge of the glass, to find a way to dig under and be free. Sadako from the volleyball team told her she was just being ridiculous and London must have made her weird. (no I’m weirder than London ever dreamed of being) English people are just weird, she said, so it made you weird. (and London was fine Londoners were fine and nothing like Tokyo or Tokyoites but also covered in all the same filter all talking that same mumble) Come to the cafe with us after school, we’re going to get melon parfaits (they don’t sell melon parfaits in London but I remember them anyway because its all the same, because this thing is bad at its job)

Going crazy was more work than Minako had imagined.

She almost found it, once. She felt the glass crack beneath her fingers. It nearly gave way.

As she was walking along some prefecture, by a shrine, she smelled it. The incense. It shouldn’t have meant anything. It’s Japan. It’s lousy with shrines, which she never had an interest in (but you spent so much time here) and the shrines are all lousy with incense (you remember this one, the wood and the slight musk). But she stopped, staring up at it.

There was a world. A world separate from this one. And she was the same person, only different. She knew different people. She did something. She had something. Life was complicated, aand she dreamed about leaving it constantly. She wanted it back, more than ever.

The shrine maiden, long black hair, so black it was almost purple in the sunlight, like a raven’s feathers, turned toward her. Her broom stopped. They stared at each other, saying nothing, and Minako felt it. She felt the glass crack. She stepped closer, just one step. This was it. This was the bend in the sky where the dome rested, and if she could just.

“What?!?!” The shine maiden bellowed, suddenly angry, like she could hear the crack too, like she was trying to hold up that curve of sky Minako desperately wanted to bring down.

“Nothing.” (everything anything come back we’re almost there take my hand break it break it BREAK IT)

Minako headed back into the fog, to catch the train.

#Doc writes #Eight Days 2024

21 notes · View notes

ultimateloserboy · 3 days ago

Text

GIANT FLUFFYBIRD POST

@onlyballs i saw in my phone notifs you sent me an ask but tumblr isnt showing it. HOWEVER. I believe you asked for fluffybird, and of course I will deliver!

i suggest searching the fluffybird tag on my blog if u want more thoughts. because i have said a LOT of stuff. but of course ill always talk about my guys!

BUCKLE UP BROTHER ITS A LONG WAY TO THE BOTTOM!!!!

to kick things off let me explain their characters and relationship. duck sees red as his absolute best friend, the one person in the world he truly gets along with. he loves red very proudly and openly. when it comes to the world and its horrors, duck doesnt much remember but also doesnt quite care. why would he? he has his best friend right there with him! he also loves yellow very blatantly even if he doesnt show it properly. theyre his family, and this is his house, so why would he want to change things or leave? even when hes aware of the pain that he (especially) experiences— he STILL doesnt want to leave— because as his bigger boy self says “this is as good as it gets!”

red sees things completely differently. red obviously does care for duck, but the majority of the time he will deny it. even at ducks FUNERAL red denies caring for him. red is so obsessed with coming off as the calm and collected one he ends up making himself look apathetic to the point of cruelty. duck can also be very cruel, but hes very blatant about the people he loves whereas red will deny ever loving anything. duck isnt afraid of love, but red very much is.

when it comes to the world, red remembers a bit more than duck does. yellow actually seems to remember things too, but his batteries keep his thoughts fogged so he cant properly articulate them. red can remember AND articulate things from past episodes. its not perfect, and he absolutely doesnt understand whats going on— but he DOES remember— and unlike duck, he actually HATES it. theres an argument to be made here that duck doesnt remember because he simply doesnt care to. duck doesnt care so he doesnt remember, while red cares A LOT so he remembers more. but i digress.

red wants to get out of the torture of the house, but truthfully he wants to be a different person altogether. he wants a new life not just because this one sucks— but also because he dislikes himself. he just wants something different. hes restless. even if the house was perfectly safe hed most likely still be running. he’s desperate to find a place that feels like home— but until he accepts his own differences he wont be comfortable anywhere. he refuses love from anyone that isnt his perfect made-up family because duck and yellow are “weird” and if he accepts their love that makes him weird as well, which he fights to not be.

if you really look at red, he doesnt actually want to be loved. he wants to be someone else and have everyone love that guy. but it just doesnt work that way.

duck loves red as he is now. or as he was yesterday, and who he’ll be tomorrow. it comes naturally to duck— he doesnt remember meeting red or developing a relationship with him because he never had to. he was put into the world already prepared to love red. its what he was designed to do. the three of them were designed to be a family, and duck is happy to comply with that script. although he doesnt see it as a script and sees it as his own choice to love them— which isnt technically wrong! i feel the house doesnt give them feelings— only puts them in a situation. so while they have no choice but to live together forever— its their choice to enjoy that life. duck chooses to.

red isnt happy to comply with a script at all, but he was also designed to live with duck and has his entire existence. theres a point at the funeral where red slips up. he refers to the plates on the ground as “our plates” while arguing that he doesnt know duck at all. theres an intimacy in sharing everything down to plates. they also share a room and bathe together (shown MULTIPLE times!) so no matter how much red denies it— he is extremely close to duck. he has no choice but to be. i feel thats one reason why he denies it so much— because he sees it as forced, and he doesnt want that. but i think duck would choose him anyway even if they werent forced to live together and thats why it works.

duck doesnt see it as forced because hed love red no matter the situation. no matter if they were chained to each other or free to go— duck would stay right there. but red wants that freedom. so he presents himself as if he dislikes or doesnt know duck to give himself the illusion of freedom from their shared cage. he doesnt think hed miss duck fully if he was gone. he even gets excited at the idea of living apart in transport.

but its all denial. because he would also choose duck if they werent stuck together! when theyre in the dark and red cant see him— he realizes he WANTS to look at duck. he WANTS to talk to him. he would CHOOSE to do so if he wasnt forced, and he HAS chosen to do so throughout the entire show, whether or not hes realized it. red gets more comfortable at the idea of spending time together because, yes, they are technically forced to share the house. but it doesn’t have to be that way! not in their hearts. not in their minds. thats the way duck sees it, anyway.

they might not always agree on things, but when they do it sometimes devolves into something terrible. There is a point where red guy gives up. he starts to give into the lessons because its easy. because sometimes he DOES enjoy them. sometimes hes just too tired and falls into the pattern he hates because its simple to do so. and maybe after years of being beaten down into submission he starts to agree with duck and see no hope of escape. thats when, at least from how i see it— they evolve into bigger boys.

its not shown how the boys get bigger but its obviously a progression. a slow ascent into madness. i think it starts with them becoming hopeless, and then finding hope in the lessons. theres nothing else to latch on to— so they latch onto them with everything they can. they learn everything they possibly can. they grow and grow and get higher and higher until theyre dangerous. until theyre more self-centered and cruel than theyve ever been. eventually they become too knowledgeable to be taught anything. they become a part of the house rather than occupants of it. soon theyre pulling the strings and torturing smaller creatures for their own enrichment. it gives them a sense of power over themselves knowing once they were in that creatures place. they finally feel in control of their lives but at what cost?

all of this is done with them completely glued to the others hip. despite getting more self-centered they just cant let go of each other. theyre tangled together like weeds. they love each other and they cant let that go— but they cant admit that or indulge in proper companionship because thats vulnerable, and theyre too BIG now to be vulnerable! so they sit across the room. never quite separate but never quite together. its better to be 10 feet apart and never look at each other than to be without each other. loneliness was always their greatest enemy and even while being trapped in close proximity forever they cant seem to escape it.

but there is a smaller version of them, a small moment in time where theyre happy together. where they can sit and have a conversation without fear of judgement. theres no stage-lights on them and the darkness hides their shame. they can actually tell each other how they enjoy the others company. they can be honest and vulnerable.

to duck its normal to tell red he appreciates him (in his own way) but for red to say so is shocking. duck is surprised. but hes happy. and they can spend time together being completely honest and loving each other without it being a big deal at all. without any worry. but those are the moments that always go first. the moments in their memory that deteriorate the quickest. maybe if that moment lasted— maybe if their walls were broken for long enough— they couldve started to get better. they couldve grown to be kinder. they couldve grown to be happy together. but they never have the chance to keep it long enough.

they live everyday as close housemates. they slip into a domestic life that comes naturally to them even when they may not realize. but when they actually start to think. as soon as a song comes on its so much more than that. and neither of them really want it to be— or they do but they dont know in what way or how. they dont know how to explain things to each other. they dont REMEMBER enough to discuss it. so it festers until it ruins them. every single time

tldr fluffybird is like this:

i cant keep reliving the same day every day. I cant bear to forget it all again. even when im too tired to fight ill still have the belief deep inside of me that theres somewhere out there better than this. that theres a version of me out there better than the one i am. i hope to find it some day and i hope to have you with me. i wish i could leave without you but im too much of a coward. This cant be all there is and i will prove it to you someday.

im fine reliving everything as long as its with you, exactly as you are. as long as youre willing to listen when i repeat myself. this IS all there is and im alright with that. an organ or two is a small price to pay to live forever with my family. youre ungrateful for wanting to run, think of all weve done together! but i know you will anyway. so ill be waiting to say “i told you so!” and then we’ll walk home. it might tear us apart but its still our home. this is as good as it gets.

RANDOM FUN FACT AND FAVORITE SCENE TIME!!!!

easy one first— RED is ducks favorite color! which is made even more fruity with the context that duck enjoys specifically LOOKING at red guy!

red and duck have matching pillows! theres two green pillows that you can see in the living room. sometimes theyre together on reds chair and other times theyre split between his and ducks chairs! theyre also in the webseries on their beds— but ONLY on theirs! yellow doesnt have one of these. at least i dont remember so. might be wrong but from what i can tell these pillows are always for duck and red only. at least most of the time if yellow does ever have one!

there are multiple pieces of concept art of 1: them being silly and 2: them being closer than in the final scenes. the original concept for the big boys shows them sitting MUCH closer and their arms intertwined, whereas in the final shot theyre not touching each other at all and duck is moved completely across the room (they are fucking ginormous irl tho to be fair)

some of my favorite pieces of concept art tho are this little selfie of duck and red with his little peace sign and their arms wrapped around each other in front of a mountain <333 AND THEN DUCK DOING REDS HAIR :DD

one of my favorite scenes of them is in jobs when red is rambling about his lanyard and duck says “what have they done to you?” it sounds so genuine and its a really nice line. it really points out that as judgmental as duck is he worries when red isnt acting himself

speaking of jobs theres a running gag of duck disliking when red is clothed starting with this episode (ironically the first episode) when he walks into reds office he asks “what are you wearing?” and laughs at him. its obviously not about the suit itself because duck also wears a suit— so its easy to assume duck is mocking him because he looks silly in any clothes at all. red isnt supposed to wear clothes— and he also feels uncomfortable in them. its not HIM and duck thinks he looks like an idiot for trying to play someone else. he also gags when red wears denim in friendship which is honestly foul of him 😭. no matter the reason tho he canonically prefers red naked.

on a similar topic— there arent many dirty jokes in the show but when there are they almost ALWAYS come from or are about duck. but occasionally red will get caught in the cossfire. the CONSENT teacher shows up after something duck says in the big room. conveniently a room they share without a yellow normally there. thats then followed up by a rock teacher appearing which is a bit awkward considering duck has “private business” with a rock in transport. then to make matters even worse in the bigger room yellow tells them to “experiment on each other”(?!!?) to which duck turns to red and goes “would you be keen?”(😭⁉️)

(the scene where duck looks red up and down in the car is debatable but ill mention it anyway!!)

its hard to ever truly confirm this one because it was never recorded but the reason fluffybird kicked off so hard back in 2022/23 was because a producer on the show during a qna told everyone to continue shipping red and duck! there were multiple people from around different corners of the internet who went to this qna and all had the same story, so i dont think its a lie but i still cant tell you we have full proof. i know becky and joe repost and encourage fanart of them tho, and thats basically the same thing so. anyway

when dhmis won comedy awards they held the trophies together <333

do i even have to mention the fridge scene? well i am!! theres something to be said about how their little confession happens in an episode about and titled “electricity” when electricity and “sparks” between people is a very common trope/phrase in romance. this one is sort of a stretch but i think its neat!

i dont know if becky joe and baker terry had any intentions back in the webseries days for them but the LOVE episode and the way red and duck were left alone at the picnic (mirroring the fridge scene!!!) looks gay as fuck with hindsight bias

when duck comes back from being dead and red is surprised to see him i think the way he says “oh.. hi!” and duck says “helloooo :DD!” is really sweet :(( not to mention the whole argument at the funeral itself. absolute messy ass gay ppl. i dont want YOU i want my BEST FRIEND !!!! and duck was going to leave red his diary… yes it was empty but its still his DIARY!!

the way they email EACHOTHER during computer day is so fucking cute theyre so fucking stupid i love them 💔

the way duck reacts in the food episode isnt talked about enough!! he tears down EVERYTHING to find red. he literally knocks over a camera!! he literally broke reality because he was so desperate to answer the phone. he missed red more than anything and was doing everything he could to find him :(( not to mention how he had to fight his OWN memory in order to remember who red was in the first place! hes always loved him in whatever way :((

the way red laughs when theyre picking on yellow together.. its fucked up and also red is a hypocrite but duck made him laugh and thats something!

the way red tried to comfort duck in the beginning of electricity when he starts to freak out and worry about yellows behavior. he wasnt doing a good job and you could argue he was doing it for selfish reasons and not to actually comfort duck but i really feel it was both. just trying to calm the both of them down.

speaking of electricity again… the way hes washing dishes while duck does a crossword makes me wanna throw up. theyre literally a family. its one of my favorite scenes in the entire series. just in general. i love yellow here too its not abt him rn but i love my son :(((

alright there’s definitely more but im really tired lol so bye fluffybird nation hope this post was fun!!!!!!

EDIT: OH MY GOD I CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT TO MENTION STAIN EDWARDS! In death red molds someone else into being duck, looking like duck, sounding like duck— all because he cant let go of him. yellow goes out to dig him up but red doesnt think its possible so he just makes a new one. and you can hear how desperate he is to make sure hes JUST RIGHT. even stain edwards asks him if he has “issues he needs to work out”… which clearly he does. i cant believe i forgot to mention this cuz this is some insane levels of homosexuality. off the fucking charts

#im sorry if it reads wrong at parts i put in a lot of effort and actually had it a lot longer but tumblr deleted a HUGE chunk of it :((#i exited the app and it didnt save my draft….. sigh but ive rewritten it the best i could #fluffybird #dont hug me im scared #dhmis #dhmis fandom #duck guy #dhmis duck #duck dhmis #red guy #dhmis red guy #dhmis tv show #red guy x duck #dhmis webseries

21 notes · View notes