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Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 11)
Their background is clear to you—always has been since your social worker told you about them in her car on the way here.
They’re military men. Most of their long lives have been spent in the field. She even mentioned that their first children grew up on base when they were little.
Which sounded cool, you thought. It was so different from the office jobs other foster parents had. A bonus, even—it made you feel safe in their house.
They were bigger than most. If not by height, then by width. They were large. Buff. Even the damn harpy, who was supposed to be lean, had broad shoulders and lots of muscles.
So you felt safe. That was a big bonus. Better than that weird suburban house you stayed in, where the mother often avoided the creepy neighbor who looked predatory. You remember his strange glances and how nervous the mother was when he came knocking one night while her husband was away.
How nervous you were as you watched their interaction a few feet away.
So, you’ve always had a big thing about safety, thanks to the weird places you have stayed.
And they felt so safe. It was comforting, really. After the initial phase of settling into a foster home—when you flinched away from everyone until you got to know them better—you started to relax.
(Unless they were the angry type. Or worse, the type to lay their hands on you.)
So, when Price sat you on his lap, checking your temperature again and combing your hair with his hand and sharp claws, you felt... calm. Eh, not totally, you admit. You still tensed a little when his hand came near your face and stayed quiet because of your shyness.
But it was progress, and you really, really wanted to feel at peace with them.
When night came, after they gave you more medicine, warm tea, and another serving of John's bean and bacon soup, they decided to put you to bed early.
Which... was fine. You were actually very tired. Sickness does that to you.
Price carried you, lifting you easily from the dining room chair with the booster seat they’d gotten from somewhere. He placed you down carefully in the big nest full of heavy blankets and pillows, the others following behind at their own pace.
Being there gave you a chance to watch more of their routine.
Ghost was the last to enter. You could hear him rattling things downstairs and turning off lights as he came. His low voice confirmed that all windows and doors were locked.
Gaz was already in the room, sitting at the nest’s edge as he combed through his wing with a special tool, a weird looking comb thing. Johnny worked on the other wing with a concentration you didn’t know he could manage. Both of them were close to you, their legs nearly bumping your small form in the giant nest.
Price moved calmly around the room, putting things away and finishing his hygiene routine in the attached bathroom.
"Feeling better?" Gaz cooed softly, his leg—talons, talons, such sharp talons—bumping near you to get your attention.
"Y-yeah, better..." you answered quietly, nodding for emphasis.
"Good." He crooned, satisfied, especially when Soap purred right after.
(Is it really a purr if he’s a werewolf?)
"Good pup, such a good pup. Really brave, huh? Dinae complain even once. So strong..." Soap murmured, leaning over Gaz, who relaxed back against him.
"It's just a small fever..." you mumbled, frowning a bit at his exaggeration. You were shy. "It’s nothing..."
"Not nothin’, kid." Simon grumbled, finally climbing into the nest after discarding his mask and gloves. He lay beside you, checking your forehead again. "Sick is sick. A flu is a flu. Still makes you feel like shit."
"Simon..." Price scolded as he emerged from the bathroom, closing the door behind him. "Didn’t hear the hatchling say one bad word ’til now. Don’t influence her."
"To be fair, we barely heard her speak at all until now." Kyle retorted sassily, smiling at Price before glancing down at you. "Small, quiet fledgling."
"Nah, she’ll warm up to us!" Johnny declared confidently, shaking his head. "Right, pup? Wanna play with Papa tomorrow? We can play anything ya want!"
"Tone it down, mutt. It’s snowin’ outside," Ghost grumbled, already wrapping your small body in one of the blankets.
"We can play inside. We’ve got the space," Soap said smugly, finishing Kyle’s wing before slipping into the nest on your other side. "We can play, pup. Promise I’ll be gentle!"
You tensed a little, unsure. Your expression showed your doubt with your little frown. After a few seconds of silence, you managed to murmur.
"....o-okay... I guess..."
"See? Who said peer pressure doesn’t work?" Ghost deadpanned, making Price snort with laughter, faint wisps of smoke escaping his nose.
"You don't have to if you don't want to, hatchling. Soap will understand." Price says with a quiet laugh, approaching the nest as he adjusts some kind of shoulder weight attached over his sleeping shirt where his missing wing used to be.
You stare at him for a moment, frowning slightly in confusion.
"...Soap...?"
Your question seems to stun them for a moment before they all start laughing softly, like it’s some kind of inside joke.
"Tha’ would be me, lassie." Johnny replies with a big smile, flashing all his sharp teeth as he leans closer. "Just a codename. Military, aye?"
"Nickname...?" you mumble, still confused.
"Close, hun. Codename." Gaz explains with a gentle laugh, sliding into the nest now, his wings resting against Soap and Price’s backs.
"It’s like a nickname, but it’s used for secrecy. So bad people don’t know our real names." Ghost adds calmly, his heavy hand giving your back a slight pat.
That makes you scrunch your nose slightly.
"Why Soap...?"
Once again, the others laugh at your question, except Johnny, who just sighs quietly, though his smile remains.
"Doesn’t matter why." The werewolf says with a shrug, still grinning as he gestures at Simon. "This bastard is called ‘Ghost’ in the field, Kyle is ‘Gaz,’ and John just uses his last name, ‘Price.’"
You nod quietly, blinking as you process the information. It’s kinda weird, but it makes sense for their lifestyle. Military men for most of their lives, huh? That actually makes you wonder...
"...Are your kids also military...?" you ask softly, hugging your knees over the thick blanket.
"Thank fucking god, no," Price answers quickly, sounding both relieved and horrified at the thought.
"I thought we weren’t doing bad words?" Ghost asks slowly, his tone sarcastic as he sends Price a bored look.
"Oh, shut it." Price growls softly back, leaning closer to him with a sharp smile.
"But no, none of them are in the military." Kyle chimes in, smiling slightly. "Doesn’t mean they didn’t think about following our footsteps at some point, though."
"Wee lads and lassies always thought the military was cool, wanted to be like their papas." Soap says dreamily, though his smile falters slightly to a more nervous smile. "We would never let them, though."
"Why?" you ask innocently, tilting your head in confusion. "You didn’t like the military?"
"No, no, not that! Ah love the military, wee lass!" Soap defends quickly, waving his hands around. "Can’t imagine doin’ anything else with my life!"
"But no parent wants their kids in such a dangerous job," Price interjects, shaking his head as he mutters under his breath. "Honestly, if I had my way, they’d still be here in the nest with me."
"Ignore ’im. Dragon instincts get the best of ’im sometimes." Ghost mutters, shaking his head before gently nudging you down into the nest. "Come on, kid. We can talk tomorrow. It’s sleep time."
You’re still curious, but you nod, laying back against the nest. Johnny immediately curls around you, his giant body wrapping you up entirely. You even feel his tail loop around your legs. You tense for a moment at the closeness, but soon relax, rolling slightly to burrow your face into the blanket. His much larger body shields you completely.
"Night, kid." Ghost grunts as he settles, his hand resting on top of your wrapped form.
"Sweet dreams, hun." Gaz murmurs softly.
"Sleep well." Price adds last, leaning down slightly as the others settle into their spots in the nest. "Call us if you need anything, alright?"
"Gonna be monitorin’ her. It’s fine..." Johnny mumbles, still draped protectively over you. "Good night, lassie."
You fall asleep as the lights turn off and the others cuddle into the nest. Despite the heavy snowstorm outside, you feel incredibly warm.
Safe.
#poly141#poly!141#cod#foster child!reader#teen!reader#kid!reader#simon ghost riley#john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#wraith!ghost#werewolf!soap#dragon!price#harpy!gaz#monster 141 au#monster au#cod mw2#cod mw3#tf 141#dad!price#dad!ghost#dad!soap#dad!gaz#hybrid 141#human!Reader#platonic!141
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𝒸𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓈'𝓈 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝜗𝜚 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒!
· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── ·
This Christmas special was inspired by Valentine's Special [2nd Love Interest] by @fantasia-kitt (the creator!)
For this Christmas, I decided to write this fanfic while running errands with family for the holidays, so please bear with me if there are any mistakes.
I was thinking about writing something for New Year’s Eve, like a party fic, but I feel like this Christmas special is enough for now while I take a short break and catch up on some upcoming projects (three of them with deep plotlines!). Also, this ties in with Tkatb’s 1st anniversary, which was yesterday, the 23rd! I’m super proud of how far this little game has come.
And yes, I saw the update on the plans and progress. It looks like I might start working on some of my other favorite fandoms since the game will be on hold until the major update! I’ll still be keeping an eye on the progress as a Soulmate on Patreon, and you can always ask for a fanfic if you’d like! I’ll be responding to the messages in my ask box soon!
Anyway, happy reading! Wishing you all a wonderful holiday season!
The crisp, cool December air wrapped around you like a familiar embrace, the kind that reminded you of winter's quiet power. You stepped out of the lecture hall, your final class a fading echo behind you.
The world, for a moment, felt as if it had been held in stasis: college was finally behind you, and relief surged through your veins like a slow, satisfying exhale.
You almost burst out laughing at the thought. Thank God that's fucking over. It totally drained you, and ate away at your insides until you felt there was nothing left but pure exhaustion. But then, as it all started to sink in, this weird emptiness crept up, like that quiet moment right before a storm hit.
The goodbyes, those last waves, and parting words were still stuck in your chest, kinda just out of reach, weighing on you like you were still tied to something that wasn’t done.
Then your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked down at the screen and spotted Brittney’s name.
— Brittney: REMINDER! Gift exchange on Christmas Eve, my place at 7! Don’t be late, or you’ll owe me extra cookies.
You scoffed and let out a soft chuckle. Brittney had this incredible thing for making demands with a level of authority that was, somehow, oddly charming. As much as you rolled your eyes at her, you couldn’t deny that her quirks always brought a smile to your face. Still, as your gaze flicked back to the message, a groan bubbled up in your chest. You scrolled back through her earlier messages to confirm what you already knew.
"Great," you muttered under your breath. Brittney had really gone all out this year, assigning everyone a specific person to shop for, and, of course, you ended up with Crowe.
You exhaled, frustration bubbling up. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him—he was one of your closest friends—but trying to find a gift for someone who had everything felt like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. You could almost hear his voice in your head, teasing, cutting through whatever you picked out: “Really? This is what you think of me?” Of course, he’d never say anything like that—but what if he didn’t like it? What if he hated whatever you got him? The thought twisted uncomfortably in your chest.
You shook your head and continued walking toward the bus stop, the weight of the decision hanging over you. Simple wouldn’t cut it, but anything too over the top would make him throw a sarcastic comment at it. You had to find something that hit that sweet spot—the kind of gift that felt thoughtful without making him retreat into one of his jokes.
As if your thoughts weren’t already tangled enough, your phone buzzed again. You hesitated, almost instinctively glancing down.
— Hyugo: Hey, what are you doing Christmas Eve? Sol and I are planning to check out the lights walk at the park. You should come!
A smile tugged at your lips. Typical Hyugo—direct, unfiltered, full of energy. His message was as breezy as his personality. And then there was Sol’s name, and that grin only deepened. The two of them together were a comedy show on legs—Sol’s quiet balance countering Hyugo’s endless whirlwind of ideas and antics.
You stood still, fingers hovering over the screen. Christmas Eve.
Oh no… For a moment, the thought of walking through the park with them, bathed in twinkling lights, was tempting. It would be the perfect kind of distraction, a night filled with laughter, just as you’d imagine. You pictured Hyugo pulling you and Sol into whatever wild antics he’d planned, Sol trying (and failing) to keep everything in check with his usual, resigned eye rolls.
But then, as your thumb hovered over the screen, your thoughts drifted back to Crowe.
Last week, in the group chat, Crowe had mentioned something cryptic about "making big plans" for the holiday. He’d shrugged it off when Brittney pressed for details, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he had something in mind that involved the whole group. You felt the weight of his words in your mind. Would it be weird to bail on him now?
You sighed, tucking your phone into your pocket as the bus stop loomed closer.
"Why is it never simple with these friend groups?" you muttered under your breath.
Now, you had two conflicting decisions on your hands: find the perfect gift for Crowe, and decide whether you were spending Christmas Eve with him and his friends or tagging along with Hyugo and Sol on their sparkling adventure.
Your mind raced with the uncertainty, and the thought of making the "right" choice felt more elusive than ever.
The mall was buzzing with the kind of chaotic energy only the holiday season could bring—families weaving in and out of stores, the sound of Christmas music drifting from every corner, and glittering displays of tinsel and fairy lights winking at you from every window.
You hadn’t stepped foot in a mall in ages—mostly sticking to the convenience of online shopping and the hunts of thrift stores—but here you were, begrudgingly dragging Brittney along in your quest for the perfect gift for Crowe.
“I still don’t get why you’re this stressed about it,” Brittney said, effortlessly balancing a caramel macchiato in one hand while gesturing with the other as she walked beside you. “It’s Jericho. He’ll probably be smiling no matter what you give him. Honestly, wrap up a rock, and he’ll love it anyway.”
You let out a long, drawn-out groan, clutching your coat tighter as you passed yet another store that screamed not Crowe enough. “That’s exactly why it’s stressful! If I give him something random, he’ll think I didn’t put any thought into it. And if it’s too thoughtful—well, you know how he gets.”
Brittney raised an eyebrow, her heels clicking against the tile floor like the beat of a very judgmental drum. “You’re overthinking it, as usual. But fine, we’ll find him something perfect.” She paused dramatically, then grinned like the cat who’d just caught the canary. “Right after we fix this.”
She motioned toward you like you were a mannequin in need of serious intervention.
“What are you talking about?” you asked, narrowing your eyes, already dreading whatever plan she was about to hatch.
“Oh, come on,” she said, practically yanking your arm as she steered you toward a clothing store. “You cannot show up to my place tomorrow night wearing your same old flare jeans-and-sweater combo in dull colors. It’s festive! It’s Christmas! You need to bring your A-game.”
“I thought this was supposed to be a small get-together,” you protested, resisting her tug.
“It is. Small but fabulous. Which is why I, as your friend, am going to make sure you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed.” She pulled a sequined dress from a nearby rack with the kind of flourish reserved for Broadway stars. “What do we think? Too much?”
You stared at the dress in horror. It was so sparkly it could probably be seen from space. You shot her a flat look. “If I wear that, Crowe will definitely never let me live it down.”
“Fine, fine,” Brittney said, laughing and tossing the dress back on the rack with the grace of a fashionista throwing a tantrum. “But you’ve got to admit, you’d turn heads.”
“You’re impossible,” you muttered, though a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as she tossed another, more reasonable outfit your way.
After what felt like an eternity—and after Brittney vetoed every “boring” outfit you tried to pick—finally, you emerged from the dressing room with a pretty outfit, you both agreed with.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Brittney said, clapping her hands in approval. “Chic, confident, and just a little bit mysterious. You’re welcome.”
You glanced at yourself in the mirror, tilting your head. “I guess it’s not bad.”
“Not bad?” she repeated, feigning offense. “Please, you look amazing. Crowe is going to have his jaw on the floor.”
You shot her a look, trying to hide the heat creeping up your neck. “Why are you bringing him into this?”
Brittney smirked knowingly. “Oh, please. Like you don’t know.”
You rolled your eyes, but her grin was infectious, and you couldn’t suppress the smallest of smiles.
After leaving the clothing store—with Brittney carrying your new outfit like it was her triumph—you wandered into a cozy little shop filled with knick-knacks and handcrafted items. It had that eclectic, artsy vibe that immediately made you think of Crowe.
Brittney was busy examining a shelf of scented candles when she asked casually, “So, do you ever think about dating?” You froze, nearly dropping the ceramic figurine you were holding. “Excuse me? Where did that come from?”
“I mean, it’s the holidays,” she said, shrugging as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Romance is in the air. And you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with a certain pair of guys.”
Your stomach flipped. “Brittney...”
“Come on,” she pressed, leaning against the shelf with a teasing grin. “It’s Jericho, isn’t it? Or wait—maybe that dude with the green streaks in his hair?” She paused, thinking, “What’s his name again…?” She asked. You rolled your eyes, “Sol.”
“Right, the quiet one that likes to draw…” She mentioned, “So? The prince or the artist?”
You hesitated, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
Sol, with his warm, easy-going nature, always made you feel like you could be yourself. But Crowe... Crowe had a way of drawing you in, his sharp wit and creativity sparking something you couldn’t quite name.
“I... I don’t know,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.
Brittney’s expression softened, her teasing giving way to genuine curiosity. “Hey, no pressure. I just think... whoever you pick, they’re lucky to have you.”
As you walked through the mall, still thinking about her words, you stumbled upon something that made you stop in your tracks.
It was a gorgeous, handcrafted music box, intricately carved with a winter scene. You’d seen it before on display, months ago, and fallen in love with it. But the price tag had always kept it just out of reach. You’d told yourself it wasn’t practical—your money had to go toward rent, groceries, and textbooks, not something so frivolous.
Yet here it was, glimmering in the soft light as if waiting for you.
“What’s that?” Brittney asked, peeking over your shoulder.
You swallowed hard. “It’s... something I’ve wanted for a while. But it’s too expensive.”
She raised an eyebrow, glancing at you, then back at the music box. “Maybe it’s time to treat yourself for once. It’s Christmas, after all.”
You shook your head, stepping away reluctantly. “I can’t. I need to stick to my budget.”
Brittney frowned but didn’t push. Instead, she linked her arm with yours and said, “All right, let’s go. We’ve still got to find gifts.”
By the time you left the mall, you were exhausted but triumphant. You’d found the perfect gifts—Brittney had, of course, insisted on adding a bow to each package.
With the gifts secured, you headed home, your thoughts kept drifting back to the music box—and to the question, you couldn’t quite answer. Crowe or Sol?
Standing in front of your mirror, you smoothed the soft fabric of the outfit Brittney had picked out for you—a cozy yet stylish off-shoulder sweater black sweater dress paired with maroon tights, and a matching bow that sits on your nightstand.
It fit perfectly, hitting all the curves, and you had to admit, Brittney had an annoyingly good eye. When she handed you the bag earlier, she had waved away your protests with a grin.
“Think of it as a gift,” she’d said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I had no clue what to get you anyway, so this counts. You’re welcome.”
You laughed at the memory as you reached for the maroon bow. It was a small, thoughtful gesture from her, but it carried more weight than she probably realized. Brittney always had a way of showing her care through actions, even if she hid it behind sarcasm.
Your gaze shifted to your phone on the dresser, the screen still lit up with Hyugo’s text. You tapped your nails on the dresser, reading the message again and again. The idea of strolling under the glowing canopy of Christmas lights was tempting. Hyugo’s steady, dependable presence had always been a source of comfort, and Sol...
Your chest tightened slightly at the thought of Sol. He wasn’t the loudest or the most expressive, but he had a quiet way of showing he cared. Whether it was walking on the side of the road closest to traffic or remembering your favorite snacks when you studied late, Sol went out of his way to protect you in the subtlest ways.
But then there was Crowe.
You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, sighing softly as you adjusted the collar of your sweater dress. Crowe was the opposite of Sol in many ways—charismatic, quick-witted, and always so present. He had a way of being there when you needed him most, whether it was cracking a joke to pull you out of a bad mood or reminding you to take care of yourself when you pushed too hard. Crowe didn’t just care about you; he saw you.
Your brush stilled in your hand as your thoughts tangled. Sol, with his quiet strength and unspoken devotion, versus Crowe, whose vibrant energy and unwavering support had become a constant in your life. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt torn like this, but tonight, with everything hanging in the air, the question loomed larger than ever.
You placed the brush down and reached for your phone. Your thumb hovered over the screen, Hyugo’s text still unanswered.
The truth was, both options held their kind of magic. You could picture yourself with Sol and Hyugo, laughing as Sol attempted to grab a runaway balloon from a vendor at the Christmas lights. But you could also imagine spending the night with Crowe and the rest of the group, his familiar presence anchoring you as the chaos of the party swirled around you, perhaps playing games and catching up.
Would Crowe be disappointed if you didn’t go?
You bit your lip, closing your eyes for a moment as you let out a long breath. There wasn’t a perfect answer, and no amount of overthinking would make the choice any easier. Finally, you set the phone down with a soft thud and looked back at your reflection.
“Just go with your gut,” you murmured to yourself.
As you adjusted your clothes in the minor one last time, you headed to your living room. You put on your leather boots, then grabbed your coat, and you made your way toward the door. No matter what decision you made tonight, you knew one thing for certain: the holidays weren’t about the lights, the gifts, or even the plans—they were about the people who mattered most to you.
And whether that person was Crowe or Sol... maybe the night would help you figure that out.
If you picked Crowe!
You stood in front of your front door, staring at your phone screen as your thumb hovered over the keyboard. Hyugo’s invitation sat open on your messaging app, the words staring back at you like a challenge.
Spending Christmas Eve with him and Sol sounded wonderful. The idea of walking under glowing lights, sharing laughter and stories, and basking in the quiet warmth of their presence was so tempting. You could already picture Sol’s quiet, steady energy and Hyugo’s easygoing humor, balancing each other out like always.
But then there was Brittney’s party. She had been planning it for weeks, texting in all caps about the details and how “NO ONE was allowed to skip out unless they wanted to face my WRATH.” And Crowe… well, Crowe had been unusually involved in the group chat about the exchange. You could sense his subtle excitement, even though he’d never admit it outright.
Your heartfelt caught between two equally important choices. One evening with Hyugo and Sol would mean stepping away from the rest of your friends, missing out on the little traditions that had brought you all closer. And yet, declining Hyugo’s invitation felt like a lost chance to make a special memory with him and Sol.
Biting your lip, you finally typed out a reply, your fingers moving hesitantly:
— You: I’d love to, but my friends already planned something. Maybe next time?
You stared at the message for another moment before pressing send, a pang of guilt twisting in your chest.
It wasn’t long before your phone buzzed with Hyugo’s response:
— Hyugo: Got it. Have fun!
You smiled softly at the screen, some of the tension in your chest easing. Hyugo was always so understanding—steady and reliable, no matter the situation. But before you could set your phone down, it buzzed again.
The name flashing on the screen made your stomach flip.
Sol.
You hesitated for a beat before answering. “Hey,” you said, keeping your tone light despite the sudden tightness in your throat.
“Hey,” he replied, his voice calm but noticeably quieter than usual. “I just wanted to check... So, you’re not coming tonight?”
Your chest tightened further at the faint thread of disappointment in his tone. “I’m really sorry, Sol,” you said, sighing softly. “I already have plans with others friends. I don’t want to bail on them.”
There was a pause, long enough for your heart to sink. When Sol spoke again, his words were careful, and understanding, but there was no hiding the sadness that laced his tone. “It’s okay. I get it. Maybe we can hang out another time.”
The lump in your throat grew heavier. “We definitely will,” you promised quickly, wishing you could say something to lighten the weight you could feel in his words.
In the background, you heard Hyugo’s voice. “Is that them? Gimme the phone.”
There was a rustling sound before Hyugo’s familiar warmth came through the line. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said with an easy chuckle. “We’ll survive without you. But next time, no excuses, okay?”
The lightheartedness in his tone made your shoulders relax slightly. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, relieved by his usual charm. “Thanks, Hyugo. Have fun tonight, okay?”
“You too!” he teased before adding, “And try not to let your friends drag you into too much chaos. See you soon.”
The line clicked, leaving you standing in the quiet entryway of your apartment. You lowered the phone slowly, staring at it for a moment longer as an ache settled in your chest. Sol’s voice lingered in your mind, soft and careful, and you couldn’t help but wish things could have been different.
But tonight, you reminded yourself, was about being with the others, about keeping the traditions you’d built with them alive. With a deep breath, you slipped your phone into your pocket and grabbed your coat, stepping into the night air with a mixture of anticipation and bittersweet longing swirling in your heart.
The evening of the party arrived, and as you approached Brittney’s house, the warmth and energy of the gathering spilled out onto the deck porch. Golden light glowed from the windows, the cheerful hum of music and laughter drifting into the chilly December air. You paused for a moment at the door, pulling your coat tighter around yourself as you gathered your thoughts.
With a steadying breath, you knocked. A moment later, the door swung open, and there was Brittney, her face lighting up with her signature, effervescent grin.
“Finally! I thought you’d never get here,” she said, already reaching to help you with your coat.
“Sorry, I was—”
“Fashionably late,” she interrupted, her eyes scanning your outfit. A satisfied hum escaped her lips as she appraised you. “Now this is what I’m talking about. You’re stunning.”
You laughed softly, slipping out of your coat to reveal the gorgeous outfit Brittney had insisted on picking for you—a soft black off the shoulder dressed, paired with maroon tights with an matching bow that made you feel both elegant and confident. She handed you a pair of house shoes, the ones you knew she kept around for occasions like this.
“I feel like I’m overdressed,” you said lightly, but Brittney shook her head, waving a dismissive hand.
“Overdressed? Please. It’s Christmas. You’re perfect.”
Before you could respond, a familiar voice cut through the cheerful din behind her.
“Hey, you made it.”
Your gaze shifted, and there stood Crowe. For a moment, you simply stared, taking him in. He wore an azure button-up shirt, paired with a black vest that complemented his rich brown skin, the deep hue drawing out the warm tones of his deep blue eyes. A sapphire brooch glinted at the center of a meticulously tied black bow around his collar, and his long hair was pulled into a low ponytail, tied back with a matching azure ribbon.
In his hands, he held a small bouquet of blue irises.
Your breath caught, and as he stepped closer, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his outfit . “Wow,” you murmured. “You look... princely.”
Crowe raised an eyebrow, his usual smirk faltering as a flicker of warmth crossed his expression. “And you look...” He paused, his gaze lingering on you before softening. “Really beautiful.”
“Only tonight?” you teased, raising an eyebrow and tilting your head.
His eyes widened, and he stumbled over his words, flustered in a way you didn’t see often. “No, I mean—you look beautiful every day, but tonight you just—” He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck as a sheepish laugh escaped him.
You both burst into laughter, the tension easing in an instant. Brittney rolled her eyes dramatically, patting Crowe’s shoulder as she passed. “Well, my work here is done,” she said, her tone dripping with mock exasperation. “Don’t mess this up, princeling.”
As Brittney disappeared back to the living room, leaving you and Crowe in the hallway. He turned his attention back to you, holding out the bouquet. “These are for you,” he said simply.
You took the flowers carefully, the soft petals brushing your fingertips. Your eyes widened slightly as you studied the blooms. “Blue irises,” you said, your voice thoughtful. “They’re beautiful.”
He tilted his head, his smirk returning. “I thought you’d like them. They’re supposed to mean hope and trust—or something like that.”
“And wisdom,” you added, looking up at him with a smile. “The iris has been associated with wisdom and truth because of the Greek goddess Iris, who was a messenger for Zeus and Hera. And nobility, too—it’s been connected to royalty throughout history.”
Crowe’s brow lifted, clearly impressed. “Well, aren’t you just a walking encyclopedia?”
You grinned. “Maybe. But you picked well. Thank you.”
The warmth in his gaze deepened, and for a moment, it felt like the noise of the party faded away.
“You’re welcome,” he said softly.
Soon the room was buzzing with anticipation as the gift exchange began. Brittney, playing hostess to perfection, had everyone seated in a loose circle, with the mountain of brightly wrapped presents taking center stage. You were perched on the edge of a couch, trying to calm the slight flutter in your chest as the turn order worked its way closer to Crowe.
When his name was finally called, he shot to his feet with his usual flair, bowing dramatically as the room cheered. “Thank you, thank you,” he said, waving his hand like a performer accepting applause. “But this isn’t about me—it’s about you all witnessing the unveiling of my superior gift-giving skills.”
Brittney rolled her eyes. “Just get on with it, princeling.”
Crowe smirked at her before his gaze flicked to you. A mischievous glint lit his deep blue eyes as he strode toward you, a carefully curated basket in his hands. He stopped in front of you, his grin softening into something a little more sincere.
“This one’s for you,” he said, holding the basket out with a slight flourish.
You blinked, surprised as you took the basket from him. “For me?”
He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “Well, yeah. You’re hard to shop for, so don’t judge me too harshly, okay?”
You set the basket on your lap and began pulling back the tissue paper, and your eyes widened as you took in the contents. Inside were all your favorite things—snacks you couldn’t resist, small trinkets in your favorite color, and even a notebook that perfectly matched your aesthetic.
“Crowe...” you murmured, already feeling a warmth spreading in your chest. But as you moved the tissue paper aside further, your gaze landed on something at the center that made your breath hitch—a beautifully crafted music box.
“You...” You looked up at him, your voice barely above a whisper.
Crowe shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of nervousness. “I wasn’t sure what to get you,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re always saying you have everything you need, and every time I offer to get you something, you turn me down like I’m trying to buy your soul or something.”
A ripple of laughter spread through the room, and you couldn’t help but smile. “So, I figured I’d just... cover all my bases. You know, a little bit of everything. And, uh... I remembered how much you like little tunes and stuff, so...” He motioned awkwardly to the music box, looking anywhere but directly at you.
Your chest tightened as a wave of emotion swept over you. The thoughtfulness behind the gift—the way he’d paid attention to all the little details about you—left you speechless. Without thinking, you stood up, leaned toward him, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you, Crowe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
For a moment, Crowe froze, his eyes wide as the room erupted into a chorus of whistles and teasing laughter. His hand flew to his cheek, and the tips of his ears turned a faint shade of red.
“Well, well, well,” Brittney said loudly, holding up her phone and snapping a picture. “Looks like Crowe’s the real winner tonight.”
Crowe groaned, glaring playfully at her. “Don’t you have a party to host or something?”
Brittney smirked. “This is hosting. Carry on, lovebirds.”
The teasing didn’t stop there. Someone shouted, “How about a speech, Crowe?!” and someone else chimed in with, “Yeah, tell us how it feels to win Christmas!”
Crowe sighed dramatically, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed how much he appreciated the attention. “It feels like... a conspiracy,” he quipped, shooting you a quick, fond glance.
As the laughter died down and the gift exchange continued, you found yourself clutching the basket tightly. You caught Crowe looking at you a few times, and each time, he offered a soft, almost shy smile.
As the night wore on, the room buzzed with laughter and excitement. You sat quietly, watching the group banter back and forth, their camaraderie filling the space with a warmth that rivaled the glow of the twinkling fairy lights strung across the walls. Brittney flitted from group to group, her laughter ringing out as she teased someone about their gift-wrapping skills. Crowe’s voice cut through the chatter every so often, his witty remarks earning groans and snickers alike.
You smiled at their antics, but the warmth in your chest was tinged with a bittersweet ache. The ease with which they all interacted—the history they shared—sometimes made you feel like an outsider, no matter how much they cared for you. You still felt new. You blinked quickly, willing away the sting in your eyes, but the knot in your throat tightened, looking down at your hands.
A quiet voice broke through your thoughts.
“Hey.”
You looked up to find Crowe standing beside you, his brow furrowed, concern softening his usually playful expression. He crouched slightly to meet your gaze, his hand brushing lightly against your arm.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice low so only you could hear.
You nodded quickly, forcing a smile as you wiped at your eyes. “Yeah,” you said, though your voice wavered. “I just need some fresh air.”
He didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, he held out a hand, helping you up. “Come on,” he said softly, guiding you toward the door.
Outside, the crisp night air greeted you, sharp and refreshing against your skin. The muffled sounds of music and laughter from inside felt distant now, replaced by the soft rustling of trees and the faint twinkle of stars overhead.
You leaned against the railing of the porch, closing your eyes for a moment as you took a deep breath. When you opened them again, Crowe was watching you, his expression unreadable.
A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. Crowe noticed immediately, his brow knitting in concern. Without hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue handkerchief.
He stepped closer, his movements gentle as he raised the handkerchief to your cheek, wiping the tear away. His touch was warm and deliberate, his fingertips barely grazing your skin.
The tenderness of the gesture caught you off guard, and when he realized how close he was, his hand faltered. “Sorry, I—”
You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as a small, shaky breath escaped you. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.
His hand lingered for a moment longer before he pulled back, his lips curving into a small, lopsided smile. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly.
The two of you stood there in comfortable silence for a while, the cool night air brushing against your faces. Eventually, Crowe leaned against the railing beside you, his arm brushing yours as he tilted his head back to look at the sky.
“Do you know much about constellations?” he asked, his tone lighter now.
You glanced at him, grateful for the change in mood. “A little. Why?”
He pointed upward, his hand tracing the shape of a cluster of stars. “That one right there—that’s Cassiopeia. The queen who bragged about how beautiful she was and got herself in trouble with the gods.”
You laughed softly. “Sounds like someone I know.”
Crowe gasped in mock offense, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’ll have you know, I am humble to a fault.”
“Sure, princeling,” you teased, nudging him gently with your shoulder.
He grinned, his gaze drifting back to the stars. “Anyway, you’re more like Andromeda. You know, the princess who was chained to a rock but ended up becoming a constellation. Quiet strength, endless beauty... and the kind of person you can’t help but notice.”
Your breath hitched slightly at his words, and when you turned to look at him, his eyes were already on you, warm and sincere.
“I...” You hesitated, your emotions threatening to spill over again. But instead of speaking, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small box.
“I almost forgot,” you said, your voice steadying. “This is for you.”
Crowe blinked, surprised, as he took the box from your hands. When he opened it, his expression softened even further. Inside were two matching necklaces, one in gold and one in silver, with interlocking stars at the center.
“They fit together,” you explained, taking the gold one and clipping it around his neck. “Yours is gold and mine’s silver. I thought...” You hesitated again, suddenly shy. “I thought it’d be a nice reminder.”
Crowe’s fingers brushed the charm, his gaze flicking between the necklace and you. “It’s perfect,” he said, his voice low. “Thank you.”
The two of you stood close, the distance between you barely enough to breathe, yet it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. Your hands brushed as you admired the matching necklaces, an unspoken connection flickering between the two of you. Crowe’s lips parted, as if he was about to say something, but then he suddenly laughed, his eyes catching something in the distance.
“What’s so funny?” you asked, your head tilting curiously, the soft flicker of the holiday lights casting a warm glow on your face.
He pointed upward, his eyes mischievous. “You didn’t notice?”
Following his gaze, your eyes landed on a sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above you, its green leaves almost glowing under the lights. The realization hit you, and heat surged to your cheeks, a soft flush spreading across your skin. You looked back at him, your heart suddenly racing, and found him raising his hands in mock surrender, his lips curling into that knowing smile of his.
“You don’t have to,” he said, his tone playful but edged with something deeper, like he was daring you to take the plunge. “It’s just a belief, you know—.”
But you didn’t let him finish. Without a second thought, you stepped closer, closing the gap between you until you were mere inches apart. Your fingers gently cupped his cheek, and as his breath hitched, you pressed your lips to his.
The kiss was electric. Crowe froze for the briefest of seconds, as if surprised by your sudden boldness, but then he melted into it, his hands settling onto your waist, his touch firm yet careful. The world around you seemed to vanish, the only thing that existed was the sensation of his lips against yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. It was soft, tender, but there was an intensity to it—like a fire that had been smoldering, just waiting for the right moment to ignite.
His lips moved against yours, slow at first, savoring the closeness. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through the way his chest pressed gently against yours. You pulled him in closer, your hands tangling in the fabric of his jacket, as though afraid that if you let go, the moment would slip away. His body was pressed against yours now, his chest flush against yours, his strong arms securing you in place, as if to make sure you didn’t fall.
When you finally pulled back, the air between you seemed charged, crackling with unspoken words. His eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them, deeply in love and warm with something that made your heart race. He smiled, a slow, genuine curve of his lips, his voice low and tender when he finally spoke.
“I’ve been waiting for that,” he whispered, his words almost lost in the space between your lips. His hand remained at the small of your back, holding you close, his fingers warm against your skin.
Before you could even process the weight of his words, a loud voice broke through the fragile moment.
“Got it!” Brittney crowed from the window, waving her phone triumphantly as if she had just captured a moment of great importance.
You groaned, your face immediately hiding in your hands, embarrassed, but Crowe just laughed, the sound warm and carefree, his arm effortlessly wrapping around your shoulders.
“Let them watch,” he said with a grin, pulling you closer, his breath tickling your ear. “I don’t care.”
And for the first time that night, as his arm pulled you tighter against him, you didn’t care either.
If you picked Sol!
You stood motionless, phone resting in your hand, as you stared at the glowing screen.
— You: I’d love to come. When should I meet you?
Hyugo’s response came almost immediately.
— Hyugo: 6:30 at the park entrance. Can’t wait!
A small smile tugged at your lips, the kind that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You knew tonight would be special; Hyugo and Sol had a way of making even the simplest outings unforgettable. But as your gaze drifted to Crowe’s name in your contacts, the smile faded.
Crowe.
He deserved to know you wouldn’t be there. You owed him that much.
Your thumb hovered over the call button, hesitating as a pang of guilt settled in your chest. This wasn’t an easy decision, but you couldn’t be everywhere at once. Taking a steadying breath, you pressed the button and lifted the phone to your ear.
The line rang twice before Crowe answered, his familiar voice as warm and teasing as ever. “Hey, what’s up? Please don’t tell me you’re chickening out on me for tonight.”
A soft laugh escaped you, but the guilt in your tone was unmistakable. “Not exactly chickening out, but... I can’t make it. I have other plans.”
The silence that followed stretched long enough to make your chest tighten. You checked the screen to make sure the call hadn’t dropped, but then Crowe’s voice returned, quieter now.
“Oh. I see. Well, that’s okay. I mean, we’ll miss you, but it’s not Christmas without options, right?”
His attempt at lightness only deepened the ache in your heart. You could hear the subtle disappointment beneath his words, even if he was trying to hide it.
“I’m sorry, Crowe,” you said softly. “I really hope you have a great time. Merry Christmas.”
He chuckled lightly, though the usual energy in his laugh wasn’t there. “Yeah, you too. Take care, okay?”
When the call ended, you stared at the blank screen for a moment, the weight of your choice pressing on you. Crowe’s voice lingered in your mind, and for a fleeting second, you almost reconsidered. But tonight was about something different—something you couldn’t quite name yet.
Later that evening, you arrived at the park entrance, the crisp night air nipping at your cheeks as the scent of pine and roasted chestnuts filled the air. Strings of twinkling lights turned the trees into glowing sculptures, and the cheerful hum of holiday music mingled with the sound of children laughing and families chatting.
Your breath puffed in the cold air as you scanned the crowd. It didn’t take long to spot Hyugo leaning against a lamppost, his tall frame relaxed and his hands tucked casually into his coat pockets. He gave you a small wave, but it wasn’t Hyugo who drew your attention.
A few steps away stood Sol.
He was dressed impeccably, his white button-up shirt and green suit jacket tailored perfectly to his lean frame. The deep green of the jacket brought out the striking shade of his eyes, and his neatly styled ponytail only emphasized the sharp lines of his face. His bangs framed his expression, highlighting the glint of the piercings lining his ears.
But it was the bouquet in his hands that truly caught your attention. A cluster of green roses, delicate and vibrant against the cold winter backdrop.
Your heart skipped a beat as you walked toward him, your eyes widening. “Green roses,” you said softly, taking the bouquet from his hands with care. “They’re about life and growth. Hope, too.”
Sol blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise before his expression softened. A faint blush crept up his neck as he scratched the back of his head. “Yeah... I thought you’d like them.”
You couldn’t help yourself. Without thinking, you leaned forward and hugged him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
Sol froze, his body going stiff as his blush deepened to an almost crimson hue. He stammered incoherently for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as if to ground himself.
“Well, this is already adorable,” Hyugo said, his calm voice laced with amusement as he walked up. “Thanks for officially making me the third wheel tonight.”
You laughed, clutching the roses to your chest as you turned to Hyugo. “Don’t be so dramatic. Here, I have something for you.”
Reaching into the small gift bag in your hand, you pulled out a silver katana necklace. Hyugo’s brows lifted as he took it, his fingers brushing the delicate chain.
“Wow,” he said, holding it up to catch the light. “This is... really nice. Thanks!”
“Only the best for you,” you teased, grinning as he slipped it on. The chain glinted under the lights, and he adjusted it with a satisfied nod.
“Looks good on me, doesn’t it?” he said, striking a mock-serious pose.
You rolled your eyes, laughing. “It does. But let’s not let it go to your head, okay?”
As the three of you began walking into the park, the weight of the earlier phone call began to ease. The twinkling lights, the crisp air, and the warmth of your friends’ presence all blended into a moment you wouldn’t forget.
The world around you transformed into a glowing wonderland of twinkling lights. Strings of bulbs wound through the trees like cascading stars, and lanterns in festive shapes lined the paths. The air was filled with the sounds of cheerful laughter, holiday music, and the occasional jingling bell from a passing sleigh ride.
Hyugo walked ahead, his easy stride and relaxed demeanor making him seem like he belonged in this magical setting. Occasionally, he pointed out displays, his commentary a mix of genuine appreciation and sarcastic humor.
“See that?” he said, gesturing to a particularly gaudy reindeer display. “That’s exactly what my family’s yard looks like. Overachieving neighbors are a real thing.”
You laughed, falling into step with Sol, who had remained quieter than usual. He walked beside you, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets now that the bouquet was safely cradled in your arms. His reddish-orange eyes flitted between the lights and you, his expression thoughtful.
“You okay back there, Sol?” Hyugo called over his shoulder, smirking. “You’re way too quiet. I’m starting to think the roses did all the talking for you.”
Sol’s cheeks flushed again, but he managed a small smile. “I’m fine. Just... enjoying the view.” Hyugo snorted. “Yeah, sure you are.”
You glanced up at Sol, catching the way his gaze lingered on you before darting away. Your heart skipped slightly, and you decided to give him a reprieve from Hyugo’s teasing. “The lights are beautiful,” you said softly, gesturing toward the canopy of stars above the path.
Sol nodded, his voice equally quiet. “Yeah, they are.”
The three of you continued along the winding path, pausing occasionally to take in the more elaborate displays—a massive tree covered in golden lights, an archway adorned with glittering ornaments, and a whimsical snowman family that had children running circles around it.
Hyugo excused himself after spotting a nearby food stall. “I’m getting hot cocoa. Anyone want some?”
You shook your head, and Sol muttered a soft, “No, thanks.”
“Suit yourselves. I’ll be back in a bit,” Hyugo said with a casual wave, leaving you and Sol alone under the shimmering lights.
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged with something unspoken. Sol glanced at you, his hands fidgeting slightly in his pockets.
“You look really nice tonight,” he said suddenly, his voice shy but earnest.
You turned to him, surprised. “Thank you. You do, too.”
He smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he wasn’t sure how far to let it go. “I mean it,” he added, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. “You always look nice, but tonight... I don’t know. You’re so pretty.”
Your breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. “Thank you,” you said again, your voice softer this time.
The lights overhead cast a soft glow on both of you, the world feeling smaller and quieter. Your thoughts began to wander, and a faint ache tugged at your chest.
You’d spent so many Christmases surrounded by family, their familiar warmth and chaos filling every corner of your childhood home. This year was different. You’d made a life for yourself in the city and built relationships and traditions with your friends, but the distance from your family suddenly felt heavier than ever.
Sol noticed the shift in your expression immediately. His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly, stepping closer. “Hey,” he said gently. “You okay?”
You blinked quickly, realizing tears had started to well in your eyes. “Yeah,” you said, wiping at them with a quick smile. “I’m fine. Just... thinking about home.”
His concern deepened, and for a moment, he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should say anything. Finally, he reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay to miss them,” he said softly. “You don’t have to hide it.”
The warmth in his voice unraveled something inside you, and you nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you, Sol,” you murmured.
A small smile returned to his face, and he pulled his hand back, letting the moment settle. After a few moments, you reached into your bag, a spark of excitement cutting through the heaviness in your chest. “Actually, I have something for you,” you said, pulling out a small box.
Sol blinked in surprise, watching as you handed it to him. “What’s this?”
“Open it,” you said with a grin.
He carefully lifted the lid to reveal a miniature horse keychain, painted green and black to match his colors. Sol’s eyes widened, and a small, genuine smile spread across his face.
“For me?” he asked, his voice almost disbelieving.
You nodded. “And this one’s for me,” you added, pulling out a matching keychain—a small cat painted in your favorite colors. “Now we’ve got matching keychains. To think of each other, you know.”
Sol stared at the tiny horse in his hands, his fingers brushing the smooth surface. “I love it,” he said finally, his voice quiet but full of emotion. “Thank you.”
Before you could respond, Sol reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a neatly wrapped box. “I, uh... have something for you too,” he said, handing it over.
You unwrapped it carefully, and your breath caught as the lid lifted to reveal the music box you’d been dreaming about for months.
Tears sprang to your eyes again, but this time they were filled with pure joy. You couldn’t quite believe what you were seeing. “Sol… how did you…?”
He stood there, his hands twitching nervously at his sides, the usual confidence he carried nowhere to be found. He took a tentative step closer, and the vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. “I remembered you talking about it once,” he said, his voice faltering, tinged with uncertainty. “I just thought you should have it.”
His words, the meaning behind them, hit you all at once. He was so thoughtful, so careful. But it was his panicked expression that really caught you off guard. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air, unsure whether to comfort you or retreat, his reddish orange eyes wide with worry, silently questioning if he had done too much. “I—was this too much? I just thought you’d—”
You couldn’t bear to see him like that, unsure and vulnerable, so you stepped forward, closing the distance between you. Slowly, you rose up onto your toes, your hands wrapping around his broad shoulders, grounding yourself in his presence.
Before he could finish his thought, you pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, letting your emotions guide you. His breath hitched, and for a long moment, everything seemed to pause. The twinkling lights that decorated the trees, the distant laughter of other parkgoers, even the crisp winter air—all of it faded away, leaving only the heat of his skin and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat that somehow synced with yours.
Sol froze at first, his lips still under yours, as if his mind hadn’t caught up with what was happening. But slowly, you felt him relax into the kiss. His hands, unsure at first, settled lightly on your arms, and then, as if he was grounding himself in the moment, they tightened just slightly, pulling you in closer.
His touch was little rough, but you could feel the depth of his feelings in the way his fingers brushed against your skin—like he was afraid to let go, as if the moment might slip away if he did.
When you finally pulled back, the air around you felt charged, alive with the emotion you both had been holding back. Sol stood there, his wide eyes locked on you, his cheeks flushed so deeply that even the tips of his ears had turned a deep shade of red. His chest rose and fell quickly, like he couldn’t quite process what had just happened.
“I… uh…” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper, as if words had momentarily escaped him.
A soft laugh escaped you, breaking the intensity of the moment. You wiped away the lingering tears from your cheeks, trying to steady yourself. “Thank you, Sol,” you said, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling in your chest. “For everything. For the music box, for being here… for being you.”
Sol’s lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to respond, but instead, all he managed was a shy, lopsided smile. The kind that made your heart flutter, as if his very soul was laid bare in that simple gesture.
You smiled back, your cheeks still flushed with warmth despite the winter chill, and there was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that made everything feel right, in a way you never expected.
“And for the record,” you added softly, your tone more serious now, “I care about you. So much.”
Sol’s smile deepened, and his eyes seemed to glow with a mixture of disbelief and quiet happiness. His voice, when it came, was so soft, so full of emotion, it felt like a secret meant just for you. “I’m just glad you’re here,” he murmured, his hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch warm and tender. “You’re the best muse I’ll ever have.”
His words hung in the air between you, and it felt like time itself had slowed down, each second stretching into eternity as you stood there, lost in the quiet connection you shared. The world, the winter, the chaos of everything else—it all melted away in that one moment, leaving only the feeling of his hands, his heart, and the soft glow of your shared affection.
Before either of you could say more, Hyugo’s suddenly voice cut through the tender moment, laced with amusement.
“Well, I feel like I should leave you two lovebirds alone, but... I also don’t want to walk home alone, so…”
The interruption made you laugh, the sound light and genuine as the heaviness in your chest fully lifted. Sol’s blush only deepened, and he looked down, scratching the back of his neck in his usual awkward fashion.
Your hand found his instinctively, your fingers lacing together as you turned to face Hyugo. “You’re hopeless,” you called teasingly.
“Yeah, yeah,” Hyugo said with a mock sigh. “Glad you’ve finally figured that out.”
As the three of you continued along the path, Sol’s grip on your hand remained firm, his thumb brushing lightly against yours as though to reassure himself this wasn’t a dream. The lights above reflected in his eyes, making them shine like rubies against the backdrop of the winter evening.
After a few moments of quiet, Sol glanced at you, his gaze steady but laced with a familiar shyness. “Thanks for being here,” he said, his voice low but full of meaning.
You looked up at him, warmth blooming in your chest. “Of course. Where else would I be?”
He hesitated for just a second, and then, with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, he added, “…And I’m glad I didn’t have to shed any blood to win you over.”
You stopped in your tracks, staring at him in mock disbelief before bursting into laughter. “What a charmer,” you said, shaking your head.
Sol chuckled softly, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “What can I say? …I aim to impress you alone.”
The teasing gave way to a comfortable silence as the two of you continued walking, your hands still intertwined. The world around you felt warmer, and brighter, like the holiday lights above had found a way to settle into your chest and glow from the inside out.
For the first time that night, you felt completely at peace, the bittersweet ache of the season replaced by something sweeter: the quiet, steadfast warmth of someone who cared for you deeply.
You two reached Hyugo, who was waiting by another set of light displays, waving his hand over to call you and Sol to have a closer look.
You couldn’t help but think that this chilly winter night had turned into something magical.
The soft hum of your phone was the only sound in the stillness of your room, the faint light casting long shadows across the walls as you lay there, scrolling through the pictures from the night of Christmas Eve. Each image flickered before your eyes like a fragment of time—memories that felt both distant and vivid, frozen in the glow of your screen.
The liveliness of Crowe and his friends, the way their energy seemed to fill the room and make the night brighter. Or the warmth of the park, the laughter of Hyugo and Sol, their voices mingling with the cold December air.
You felt an unexpected peace settle deep in your chest, a quiet kind of comfort.
College may have been over, for now, but something else had started to take root—connections that would stretch far beyond the walls of classrooms and lectures. Friendships that felt solid, steady, like something that might stand the test of time.
Just as you set the phone aside, your eyes began to flutter shut, your body sinking into the softness of the bed, drifting completely off to sleep.
Afterward, the soft sound at the window—a quiet rustle of fabric, the faintest click of the latch being undone. Then, a shadow moved across the room, sleek and fluid, dressed entirely in black. The figure moved with practiced ease, slipping silently through your window as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Sol.
His silhouette was barely visible against the darkness, but you could feel the presence of his mischievous grin even before he stepped into the soft pool of light in your room. He was quick, and efficient as if he had done this a hundred times before, and yet there was something undeniably thoughtful in the way he moved—careful not to disturb anything, as if he didn’t want to interrupt the calm of the night.
He stood there for a moment, just watching your sleeping figure, his eyes heart-shaped, glinting with quiet amusement. You could feel something warm in his gaze. Then, he crossed the room, slow enough not to startle you, and crouched down at the edge of your bed. His black clothing blended into the shadows, the outline of his lean figure and the small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
You were deep in sleep, the world around you a blur of comforting darkness. And yet, in that dreamlike space, you could feel his presence, like a whisper threading through the silence.
"You made it through the year," his voice murmured, a soft, velvety tone that carried a weight of something unspoken—something meaningful. His words were like a gentle caress, and though you could barely register them in your dream state, they stirred something inside you, something warm, something that made you feel understood.
A movement—delicate, almost reverent—pulled you from the haze of sleep. His hand, steady and sure, reached out to you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His touch was feather-light, as though he was afraid to disturb the fragile peace of the moment. You could feel the warmth of his fingertips lingering on your skin, a soft, lingering touch that made you feel protected, and cared for, even in your slumber.
"Wishing you the best in the new year," he whispered, his voice barely audible but thick with intent.
You didn’t stir, caught in the embrace of sleep, but somehow, his words echoed through your mind like a distant lullaby. His hand dropped, and then there was a shift, the movement of him leaning forward, his presence closer now, filling the space between you.
His lips brushed against your lip, the kiss so gentle it felt like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. It was brief, fleeting, but tender—an unspoken promise, woven into the light touch, something that lingered on your skin even after he pulled away. His warmth stayed with you for a heartbeat, then another, the feeling of him still hanging in the air like a quiet echo.
For a moment, everything was still. His expression remained unreadable, as it often did, but there was something else there—something deeper, more sincere than you were used to seeing. He didn’t need to say more; his presence was enough.
"Happy New Year~” he said, his voice soft but carrying a quiet smile, one that tugged at the corners of his lips as though he knew something you didn’t. And then, as swiftly as he had come, he was gone—leaving behind only the lingering warmth of his touch and the faintest trace of his words, woven into the fabric of your dreams. Still, a smile tugged at your lips as you thought about the promise of the new year—of fresh starts and endless possibilities.
Whatever moments the future held, you knew they'd be all the more meaningful depending on who you chose to share them with.
· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── ·
#the kid at the back x reader#the kid at the back crowe#the kid at the back sol#tkatb#tkatb crowe#crowe ichabod#crowe x reader#tkatb sol#solivan brugmansia#jericho crowe ichabod#jericho ichabod#the kid at the back jericho#sol brugmansia#sol x reader#the kid at the back vn
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ALL I WANT 4 CHRISTMAS .ᐟ
What are the jjk & aot boys doing this Christmas season?
Somehow, mistletoe is left in his wake like a trail of breadcrumbs. Nobody knows exactly how he acquired all of this, but as he continues to swerve the advances of anyone else he meets under the green and red decoration, his intent grows more clear. There's also a mysterious bundle of it in his pocket, which he explains as his "just in case" backup. Before you knew it he was taking you by the hand and leading you through the house, much less subtle at scanning the doorways above than he thinks. At first you're oblivious, wondering if someone had spiked his eggnog or something of the sort, but no. When he halts abruptly and you follow his gaze upwards, every oddity of his behaviour makes much more sense.
"Would you look at that? Mistletoe. Wonder how that got there."
You can still feel his proud grin against your lips, even after he kisses you.
⤷ Satoru, Jean
He’s lounging on the sidelines, eyeing you over the rim of his mug as you enjoy the winter day, unaware of his lingering eyes. The hot chocolate sears his tongue, but he can't find it in himself to react. How could he care, when you're laughing across the room? What was so funny? What was so special about those people that prevented you from talking to him? He's got plenty of other people gabbing in his ear, they always end up flocking to him, as odd as it seems. He only feigns interest in their words, but if it were you, he'd hold on to every syllable like they were life's greatest treasure. he'd take note of every shift, of every breath you took. But for now you were across the room and all he could do was stare, frozen in place.
⤷ Suguru, Eren, Toji
Ah, yes. The personification of Christmas, your very own worker elf at your side. Clad in a ridiculously festive sweater and some reindeer antlers, Santa Claus might as well have thrown up on him. You're sure that if it weren't for you, he'd be wrapped in Christmas lights and singing carols on doorsteps. "It's holiday spirit! Don't you like Christmas?" he'd say. He makes you out to be some sort of grump, but you know deep down that he's just a total dork.
⤷ Toge, Yuji, Connie
Your boy isn't one for grand gestures, he never has been. Even around the holiday season, his love is quiet; soft. His chunky sweater wrapped around your shoulders, a steaming mug in your hands because he noticed you were chilly. A batch of sugar cookies made just for you, icing of your favourite colour decorating the tops. A pretty little box with a ribbon tied into a bow (or at least it was supposed to be) atop it, even though you made him promise not to go out of his way more than he already has. He just can't help himself. A photo snapped of you when you're looking particularly docile, just for safe keeping. He looks at his little album of you when you're apart, but he doesn't tell you that part. His affection is a collection of small sweetness, like a box of trinkets filled with the little things you hold dearest to your heart.
⤷ Yuta, Armin
He’s doing all of the sappiest things without even realizing it. Who would expect this big, beefy oaf of a man to be so whipped? “Yeah, those decorations are really pretty. I’d rather look at you, though.” “Sorry for staring, baby. You just look so pretty. If you were the only present under the tree I wouldn’t mind.” He’s buying you reindeer plushies just because they’re cute, and when he gives them to you his eyes shine with something so sweet it’s hard to believe it’s him. So you take them, you accept all of it, every little thing teetering on the fence of cute and corny, because maybe that’s what love does to you.
⤷ Reiner, Choso
You know how I said Toge, Connie, and Yuji are the personification of Christmas? Yeah, he’s the grinch. No, he doesn’t need another candy cane. No, please don’t turn up the radio, if he hears another Mariah Carey song he might implode. It would be easier to hide his disdain if you weren’t so adamant, so pushy for him to “get in the spirits.” Get that damn hat away from him, he tells you he won’t allow himself to be subjected to your childish antics. But when the festive shine in your eyes dulls ever so slightly, when you retreat with a defeated huff, he doesn’t know what changes. He doesn’t understand why, but he knows he doesn’t like it. So he tugs you back with an annoyed huff, grumbling under his breath as he falls victim to your will. He always ends up doing that, somehow. Always ends up at your mercy, even though if it were anyone else he’d have blocked them out long ago.
⤷ Megumi, Levi, Sukuna
He seems like something straight out of a hallmark movie. Okay, maybe he isn’t as cheerful as your picture perfect husband, waltzing around like Buddy the Elf. Maybe he’s got that passive expression on his face, the one that’s just barely grown easier to read over the years you’ve grown to know him. But he’s cooking you meals and massaging your back, he’s sliding you his card over the kitchen counter before he leaves for work and telling you to do something nice for yourself. He doesn’t care, as long as he gets to see the results; see how happy they make you. He trusts you, he trusts that you’re just as his as he is yours, and that means all of his work benefits him just as much as you. Because he gets to see your face light up, see the subtle curl of your lips with every act of service, and knowing he’s the only one is well enough for him.
⤷ Kento, Erwin
a/n — I wrote this randomly at 4am because one of my mutuals asked if I was doing a Christmas special. Yes apparently I am. Also Gojo fit a few of these but I decided on that one :3 I was thinking about doing more fandoms but I’m not 100% confident in my characterizations for hq, hxh (been a HOT minute since I’ve watched), etc. so aot and jjk it is <3 most people are only here for jjk anyway so
#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#megumi fushiguro x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#nanami kento x reader#kento nanami x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#inumaki toge x reader#toge inumaki x reader#yuji itadori x reader#itadori yuji x reader#yuta okkotsu x reader#okkotsu Yuta X reader#choso kamo x reader#kamo choso x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryoumen x reader#attack on titan#attack on titan x reader#eren jeager x reader#armin arlert x reader#jean kirschtein x reader#connie springer x reader#reiner braun x reader#levi ackerman x reader#erwin smith x reader
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Barlen
Summary: The reader is visiting Beau's family for Christmas for the first time...
Pairing: Beau x reader
Word Count: 2,200ish
Warnings: language
A/N: This is a little continuation of Bad Day but it's not necessary to have read that prior to understand this fic. Happy Holidays everyone!
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Beau tugged nervously at the collar of his thick burgundy cable knit sweater across the room. Even from a distance, you could see the flush of his cheeks as he was spoken at by his uncle.
“Uncle Cal was talking shit about you coming, you know.” You turned to the left, Emily standing there in a quiet corner of the kitchen sipping on a small glass of white wine. She must have misunderstood your staring because she was quickly shaking her head. “Dad totally said I could have a little cause it’s Christmas-”
“I don’t care if you have some wine, Emily. What exactly do you mean Cal was talking shit about me?” She faked a wave over to Beau when he tried to urge her over, using exaggerated hand gestures likes she was caught up in a deep conversation with you. “Leaving your father to fend for himself, hm?”
“Yup. Last time I talked to Cal at Thanksgiving he was riding my ass about not having enough extra curiculars for college. Or a boyfriend. And for liking you.”
“Sounds like a dick,” you said, Emily smirking as you took a long drag of your beer. “Beau warned me he’s the family busybody.”
“Yeah but like,” she said, reaching behind you and grabbing a sugar cookie off a tray, “He really doesn’t like you. Rory, that’s my freakishly tall cousin that’s at his girlfriends, well Cal is his dad’s dad and Rory said his grandpa was calling you a slut on Facebook cause he thinks you broke up my mom and dad which is so not true but…yeah, that’s the boomer mentality you’re dealing with. Oh, plus he hates you for being younger than dad so there’s that too.”
“I’m thirty four years old, not a child,” you grumbled, hiding the desire to shoot Cal a dirty look. Emily saw through it though, munching on her cookie with big brown eyes. “Em, you don’t think I’m too young for your father do you? Or-”
“Um, you can stop right there.” She caught your hesitation and rolled her eyes. “You’re both adults and I know you and dad were just friends when my parents were together. Shit, you used to babysit me.”
“I know but I wouldn’t blame you if you thought…” She threw her head back, muttering a curse under her breath. “I’m sure Cal isn’t the only member of your family that’s been hesitant of me.”
“They like you a hell of a lot more than mom.” You blinked, furrowing your brows. “Come on, Y//N. She left dad at his low. No one bats an eye at your age except for the dinosaur over there and trust me, I know dad wasn’t looking at you like that until way after my parents divorced. It wasn’t until after everything with the camp and Avery and you were taking care of me here and you went up to Montana for work that you guys were together.”
You reached back and took your own cookie, chewing on it slowly. “Well…it made your dad feel better to have someone checking in on you and your mom while he was in Montana figuring out what to do.”
“And then he went on leave for three months to move back here for a bit and suddenly you were moving up to work for him when he went back.”
“You moved back there too if I recall,” you said, Emily smiling at you. “What?”
“I’m just saying, dad is…not the most emotionally available man…but he’s getting there and I know it’s because you have that something my mom doesn’t. So if Cal gives you shit, I got your back.”
“Oh, Emily, you’re as protective as your father,” said an older woman with graying hair and a gentle smile. “I already told Cal to leave Beau alone or I’d make good on that promise I made when I was thirteen.”
You looked between them, Emily smirking. “Cal teased Grandma about a boy she was dating, like relentlessly, and one day she said-”
“I’d bust his balls with a bat if he ever spoke that way about someone I cared about again,” she said, giving Cal a look across the room that could kill. “Especially when it comes to one of my boys and their wives.”
You choked on the beer in your mouth, Beau’s mom smacking you on the back as you coughed violently.
“Arms up, dear, there you go,” she said as you raised them, still coughing as she hit you harder than any woman in her seventies had any right to. You took a deep breath and lowered your arms, rubbing your chest as you caught your breath. “Emily, be a dear and go rescue your father from Cal. Tell him I need his help in the kitchen.”
“But then I’ll get stuck talking to him,” she whined.
“Well…call him a boomer and start talking about tik tok and he’ll just get confused and go have a smoke outside.” Emily sighed but went off across to the far side of the house, Beau’s mom wearing that same mischievous grin you caught on his face and Emily’s. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my big brother but he can be a bit of a dickhead. Beau’s too kind of a soul to tell his uncle to go fuck a cactus.”
You smiled, her arm looping through yours. “I hope I didn’t scare you with that wife comment.”
“No, not at all,” you said, his mom eyeing you up and down with a hum. “Beau and I have only been dating-”
“My boy was broken,” she said as you caught Emily reluctantly join her father and Cal over in the corner. You gave Beau’s mother your attention, her face softening. “And then he broke more and when he started to heal, Emily getting hurt broke him even more and you know him, he hides these things so well. Now…that boy over there is forty six years old and he talks about you like he’s fourteen and has his first crush. He healed the right way with you so you two kids, you do whatever you want to and I’ll deal with Cal, got it?”
“Yes, mam,” you said as Beau approached, heaving a sigh of relief.
“Thank you,” he breathed out, his mom slipping away with a smile. “I thought you needed help?”
“Heaven’s knows why’d you’d think that, Beau,” she said, humming as she skirted out of the kitchen and off to the family room. Beau looked back at you, tilting his head with an adorable confused look to his green eyes.
“Your mom simply orchestrated an undercover op to get Emily to rescue you. Apparently I’m not as scary as your mom when I ask her to do such things,” you said, Beau smiling.
“Ah, well, she’s got grandma superpowers. You’re just a little detective. So not scary.”
“So not scary,” you said, Beau taking the beer from your hand and taking a sip, interlacing your fingers in the other. You let him lead you to the front of the house where you slipped on your boots and light jacket, Beau popping his feet into his dark brown leather cowboy ones. He opened the front door with a few fingers, tugging you out to his parent’s front porch on the outskirts of Houston.
“I’m sorry I keep leaving you alone in there to fend for yourself,” he said, leaning against the railing, passing the beer bottle back to you.
“Hey, we live in Montana. Your family misses you. I don’t mind sharing.” He smiled, looking out at the dark field across the street. You ducked under his arm, Beau wrapping his own over your shoulders, briefly kissing your temple. His sweater was soft against your cheek, his sharp inhale of your perfume making you wrap your arms around his waist and turn into his side.
“S’funny. This place doesn’t feel like home anymore.” You glanced up at him, Beau smirking and brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. He’d done that move a hundred times over but your breath was catching in your throat tonight as he grasped your chin, bringing your lips to his. He kissed you slowly, gently, like he had all the time in the world to devour you.
“You can’t just short circuit my brain like that you know,” you mumbled, Beau laughing against the column of your neck.
“But it’s one of my favorite things to do.” He peppered kisses up and down your jaw, playing your like a instrument he knew better than the back of his hand. You bit your bottom lip when he ghosted over your ear, hot breath fanning your skin. “Close your eyes, darlin’.”
“Beau, your parents are literally on the other side of that door,” you said as he chuckled.
“Trust me.” Slowly you lids fluttered shut, Beau’s warmth leaving you. The deck boards creaked although you felt his presence, and smelled his pine and musky cologne, nearby. “Keep em’ closed.”
“Alright, alright,” you murmured before he was kissing you again. “Barlen…”
“I love when you call me that,” he whispered, touching his forehead to yours. There was an undercurrent of tension in his voice, your lips parting. “Did you know I never asked Carla to marry me? She just told me it was happening and I was okay with that because it was all part of her plan and I loved her. And now…I know we’ve talked about the somedays but…”
“Are you scared I’ll hurt you?” you asked quietly, his head nodding once. “Why?”
“You’re so young and beautiful, darlin’. You have no clue. A family with me…you won’t have a normal-”
“Beau. You’re forty six, you’re ripped and so not old. I will never not want you and we could both die tomorrow so do what I always tell you. Relax and trust me.”
“Last chance to change your mind.” You shook your head, tilting your chin up in search of his lips. He met them, cupping your cheek as he took you in. “Open your eyes.”
When you peeled them open, Beau knelt down holding a square black velvet box in his hands.
“Will you-”
“Yes, Barlen,” you grinned, Beau chuckling.
“Not even gonna let me ask?”
“I’m excited, sue me,” you said, Beau raising to his feet and opening the box, shaking his head at you as he slid a ring on your finger.
“Want to get married?” You eagerly nodded your head. “Even if you have to deal with Cal?”
“I’m a detective, babe. I can handle a seventy eight year old stuck in the past,” you said, Beau wrapping you up in his arms and hosting you up. “Careful old man. Wouldn’t want you to throw a hip.”
“Eh, watch it troublemaker,” he teased, nipping at your jaw. Your legs went around his waist, Beau setting you down on top of the railing but not releasing you. “So. How long have you known I was planning to ask?”
“Questioning my investigative skills?” you hummed, Beau eyeing you up and down. “I’ve suspected since the fall when we had that kids talk. But I knew for sure when your mom slipped the beans and called me your wife in the kitchen.”
He muttered a curse under his breath, those big green eyes watching you with curiosity. “So you knew what I was doing when we came out here.”
“Most likely,” you said, running a hand over his head, brushing a stray strand that’d fallen over his forehead. “S’okay you got nervous. You’re getting better at the talking thing, you know.”
“What did I do to deserve you?” he said softly.
“Well you are a good kisser, Mr. Barlen.”
“As are you future Mrs. Barlen,” he teased, laughing when a giggle left your lips. “Doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
“Barlen, darlin’,” you said, Beau grinning wide. “See, we’re all set.”
You both jumped when the front door burst open, Emily standing there with an exhausted sigh, staring at her father. She raised her eyebrows, Beau rolling his eyes. “Yes, she said yes, little Ms. Impatient.”
“Thank god. He’s been this close to a coronary all day,” she said, turning to go back inside. “Grandma says we can’t open presents until you get your chicken shit ass in gear and ask so can we go do that now?”
“Welcome to motherhood,” said Beau, shaking his head at her. “We’ll join in a minute.”
Emily left, leaving you to smile up at Beau. “Wow. I never knew your mom had such a potty mouth. She’s always been so sweet.”
“Oh, she can swear like a sailor all she wants but heaven forbid I cuss in front of her.”
“I think it’s a mom thing, hun,” you said, Beau rolling his eyes when you heard knocking at the window. “We better get back in there before the whole family is ragging on you.”
“They can wait,” he said, holding you close to his chest. “Right now, the only present I want is you, darlin.”
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#beau arlen#beau arlen x reader#beau arlen fanfiction#big sky#big sky fanfiction#beau arlen fanfic#beau arlen one shot#beau arlen x you#beau arlen x female reader
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hey you | fiyero x reader
author’s note; i was bored and was like why not put my shit into well words 🤷🏻♀️ btw it’s been years when i wrote a fanfic so bear with me 🥹
summary; a series of lingering glances and a playful conversation break the silence, sparking the beginning of a connection neither of them expected.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
For the past few days, Y/n had been consumed by a strange, almost surreal feeling whenever Fiyero, the Winkie prince, was nearby. She would catch him glancing in her direction across the school grounds, his gaze lingering just a moment too long, enough to send a flutter through her chest.
But no matter how many times it happened, she couldn’t bring herself to take that first step. She wasn’t like the others, like Galinda, who could easily walk up to anyone and start a conversation without hesitation.
No, she was more reserved, careful with her feelings, and afraid of being too obvious.
“You’re totally just waiting,” she muttered to herself.
“You don’t want to be the desperate one.”
Her thoughts were interrupted when her friend, a more outgoing classmate, bumped her shoulder.
“He’s staring at you again,” her friend teased, gesturing toward Fiyero, who was now walking toward their spot.
He was, once again, looking directly at her, that same piercing gaze that made her heart skip a beat.
“And now he’s walking towards us and–” her friend continued, her voice becoming background noise as Y/n’s thoughts turned inward.
Why couldn’t she just face this? Why couldn’t she summon the courage to talk to him? Every time their eyes met, she could feel the butterflies in her stomach, but she didn’t want to make it obvious.
Was it just a phase? Something that would fade away once the newness wore off? She wasn’t sure, but in that moment, all she wanted was to be able to breathe normally again.
“…..Can you even hear me?” her friend asked, pulling her from her reverie.
“Huh?” she blinked, looking at her friend in confusion.
“Got your thoughts stuck in the clouds, darling?” Fiyero’s voice cut through, accompanied by a smirk that made her feel even more flustered than she already was.
She blinked again, looking at him now standing right in front of them.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
For the past few days, Fiyero had noticed her—seriously noticed her. He saw something in her that intrigued him, something he couldn’t quite place.
She was different from the others, distant yet strangely captivating. It was almost like she was hesitant to engage with him, unsure of how to approach him, yet every time their eyes met, there was a spark—something undeniable.
He caught her eye from across the room. She seemed to be lost in her own world, her gaze flickering between curiosity and hesitation. He couldn’t help but notice the way she kept glancing his way, yet never making a move.
"Hey, you," he thought to himself, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Stop staring from afar." He wondered why she seemed so cautious.
There was no need to be afraid of him. He wasn’t someone to be feared. He just wanted her to know that he'd notice her, that he was interested.
"Why don’t you just come over and talk to me?" he silently mused.
He wasn't a stranger to making the first move, and maybe it was time to break the ice.
He noticed how her eyes would flicker his direction again, but she still stayed in her place, as if bound by some invisible restraint.
He wished she knew it didn’t have to be complicated. Nothing was stopping her from approaching him.
There was no need to hide behind uncertainty. Hearts could be free, open, unafraid.
He wasn’t the type to judge. He just wanted to see if she could take that step toward him, to show a little courage.
"Why don’t you come over?" he wondered again, the thought lingering in the air between them.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
And then, in front of her, his voice broke through the silence.
“I see you every morning, doing the same thing,” Fiyero continued, a playful edge to his tone.
Her face reddened, and she stammered, unsure of how to respond.
"What do you mean?" she asked, trying to make sense of what he was saying.
His smirk deepened. "Don’t think I can feel you staring at me?" he teased, clearly enjoying her discomfort.
“I didn’t mean–” she started, but she could barely finish the sentence as he continued, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“So, what’s your name again?” he asked, as if they hadn’t already crossed paths countless times in the halls.
As if he wasn’t already running through her mind day and night, just like she had been doing to him.
And with that simple question, everything changed. The unspoken tension between them—the silent moments, the hesitant glances—had finally shifted into something tangible. A new chapter was beginning, one that neither of them had expected but both were secretly hoping for.
In that moment, all of her doubts and fears about what this connection could be seemed to fade away. Maybe it wasn’t just a phase. Maybe there was something real here, something worth exploring.
The hesitation she had held onto so tightly began to loosen, and for the first time in days, she felt a spark of hope—hope that perhaps this was the start of something neither of them could have predicted.
#fiyero tigelaar#wicked fiyero#fiyero x reader#fiyero tigelaar x reader#jonathan bailey#wicked#wicked movie
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The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part one
I'm backkk 👀 Reminder that y'all do NOT like each other (for now 🤭)
I did a lot of math to make sure I had my timeline in order but I won't bore y'all with all the numbers. Some basics, tho: we're somewhere in s5/6, Foyet doesn't exist here but Haley and Hotch are divorced and Jack lives with Haley, Reader is in her mid 30s and Hotch is in his mid 40s. That's all for now, happy reading! xxx
Chapter warnings: these two are at each other's throats! and a new case begins ofc
Your day started out perfectly.
You sorted more of your belongings into boxes for the movers. Everything will be shipped ahead so it arrives shortly after you do at your apartment in Virginia. You’re running ahead of schedule, so you even have time to stop for a good breakfast before heading into the office.
The day felt…too good to be true. And you quickly find out why.
“The BAU?”
Your superior, Agent Reynolds, sits across from you and raises an eyebrow, assuming incorrectly that you haven’t heard of the branch. “The Behavioral Analy—”
“Yes, I know what the BAU is,” you cut him off, something he’s used to, waving your hand sharply. “Why the BAU?”
“You were requested,” he replies simply with a slight shrug.
“By who?”
“Agent Hotchner, as I’m told.”
That is the last name you ever expected him to say.
“Hotch?” you echo incredulously. “You’re kidding.”
Reynolds sighs. “I’m really not.” You know deep down Reynolds will miss you, but he’ll also thank god every day that he doesn’t have to put up with your attitude anymore.
“Huh.” You could laugh. You almost do. “Interesting.”
Your now ex-boss gives you a look, and a sigh. “What now?”
“Oh, nothing,” you shake your head. “Agent Hotchner and I have met before, that’s all.”
+++
Ten and a half years prior to the present day, you worked on a case with Aaron Hotchner.
Key word: case. One singular case.
You were joined by agents Gideon, Morgan, and, of course, Hotchner. You were the only woman with them at the time, and that already threatened to drive you up a wall. To make matters worse, you and Hotch could not get along to save anyone’s lives.
The two of you butted heads for two weeks straight, but even that is sugar coating it. He raised his voice at you and you raised your voice right back. Of course, only in private. In the field, you were as professional as can be. But in the tiny conference room that you had to set up for them coming in unannounced? All bets were off.
You’ve never been a particularly angry person, but something about Hotch brought all your anger to the surface.
He was the most arrogant man you had ever come across. He explained things to you that you already knew, and even when you told him you were aware of the topic, he’d continue explaining like he hadn’t heard you, just out of spite.
He underestimated you in ways that had your blood boiling. He wouldn’t send you to interview anyone, despite that being your area of expertise. He had you doing busy work, like a goddamn intern.
You were your office’s own little BAU. You had read Gideon’s papers, been to profiling lectures. You became a profiler because you knew your city needed one, and by your fifth year in the office, you were one. You knew what you were doing, and Hotch treated you like a newbie.
He always walked around in a damn suit and tie. Does he not own a t-shirt? Does he know what that is? Would it kill him to breathe once in a while?
Why does he have to look like he constantly has a stick up his ass?
Of course, you aren’t totally innocent. You found his buttons and pushed them since day one. He hated being talked over or shouted at, so those became your favorite things. Especially after he began doing them to you.
Don’t disobey direct orders, he said. You did. And you got the results needed, so he had no choice but to move on.
Don’t come into the interrogation room unless asked for, he said. You did anyway. The unsub needed to feel important, a high priority, and he wasn’t. So, you walked in and told Hotch that the Attorney General of the United States was on the phone. It worked. While Hotch “spoke with the Attorney General,” you got a confession. Hotch had to thank you through gritted teeth.
When the case was solved and the BAU left town, you popped a bottle of fucking champagne. Good riddance you screamed and drank straight from the foaming top.
+++
You mutter under your breath the entire drive to the BAU. Your boxes arrived this morning, but you haven’t had a chance to unpack them, so your apartment is currently a shitshow.
And now you’re driving to deal with another shitshow.
You haven’t received any emails or texts from Hotch, which is odd, but you’re sure as hell not questioning it. The less you have to deal with him, the better. He probably shares the same sentiment, which is why he hasn’t contacted you.
From far away, Quantico looks more like a prison than it does a headquarters. You hope it doesn’t feel the same way it looks.
The BAU office is just a short elevator ride up from the parking garage, and you dread every second of it. When the doors open on the BAU floor, you want to scream.
But you’re a professional, not a toddler, so you walk your ass through the glass doors and into the bullpen, your head held high like an adult.
“No. Fucking. Way.”
“Hi Morgan,” you mirror his grin, accepting his hug. “Miss me?”
He’s in the same black t-shirt and black jeans he always wears, his haircut just the same but shorter. And he finally got rid of the “shaving my face every morning” routine. Stubble looks much better on him.
“For ten years,” Morgan reminds you. “What brings you here?”
You shrug cheekily, feigning innocence. “I heard there was an opening.”
His grin, somehow, grows wider and brighter. “Come here!” He tackles you in another hug, this time lifting you up and spinning you. “God is on my side to-day. Where’s Reid?”
“Putting a disastrous amount of sugar in his coffee,” a blonde woman says as she passes, then stops. “Oh, hi. I’m JJ, you must be Agent L/N. I heard you were coming in today.”
You escape from Morgan’s grip to shake JJ’s hand. “That’s me. JJ, you said?”
She nods, shifting her feet to a more comfortable position in her heels. “I’m the BAU liaison, so you’ll see a lot of me. And very little of me. It’s complicated.”
“I hear that,” you chuckle, just glad to see another woman has joined the team.
And to your surprise, another joins the circle, this one with black hair parted down the middle. “Emily Prentiss,” she says, sticking out her hand. “Are we finally getting another woman around here?”
You nod, glad to hear she agrees with your unspoken comment. “Looks like it.”
“Did someone call my name?”
You turn and see the infamous Dr. Reid stirring a mug of sugar with a splash of coffee. He’s wearing a cardigan, per usual, and what looks like the same pair converse from when you first met him five years ago at a lecture the BAU put on. He was brand new back then. His eyebrows furrow when he sees you, and then they go wide.
“Y/N? Hi!” he says excitedly, nearly spilling his drink. “It’s been so long! Wha— What are you doing here?”
You give JJ and Emily a look that only you three truly understand. “Why do none of the men assume I’ll be joining the team?”
Emily laughs. “Believe me, I wish I knew.”
“Wait, seriously?” Reid blurts. “Are you really joining us?”
“Sure am,” you grin. “And once I get out of this meeting with Hotch, you’re telling me when the hell you joined a boyband.”
“Oh, ouch,” Morgan taps Reid’s arm lightly with a grin.
“Uh, you too, Derek,” you punch him, letting him know he isn’t off the hook either. “What’s up with the shirt? Do you not own another color?”
“Damn, momma,” Morgan groans. “You haven’t changed.”
“Neither have you,” you pat his cheek.
“I like you already,” Emily grins.
“Agent L/N,” an unmistakable voice comes from the top of the stairs, effectively ruining the moment.
He definitely hasn’t changed, you think to yourself as you slowly turn around.
“Agent Hotchner,” you mimic his tone. “Nice to see you again.”
He grips the railing a little too tightly. And he’s still wearing a damn suit, with a damn tie knotted so tight you wonder if it’s choking him. If it’s not, you want it to be. Maybe he’ll shut up then.
“I believe our meeting was scheduled for 9am,” he says, earning a sideways glance from the other man standing on the balcony.
“It still is,” you reply, looking beside his head at the clock on the wall and shit. “I’m late. That’s my fault, sir. I apologize.”
“Yes, it is,” he says. “We need to make this short. Hurry up.”
He turns and disappears into his office like some imitation of Dracula. You give Derek a helpless look.
“Welcome back,” Reid says, grimacing.
“Thanks, bud,” you reply, knowing he means well. “If any of you hear any screaming, pay no mind, that’s just how we greet each oth—”
“Agent L/N!” Hotch shouts from his doorway.
“Coming!” you shout back, just as loud and just as annoyed. “For fuck’s sake,” you mutter to yourself.
You hop up the stairs two at a time, reaching Hotch’s office in seconds.
The man that was beside Hotch offers you a smile. “I’m Agent Rossi,” he extends his hand.
“Agent L/N,” you return the friendly expression, shaking his hand, just glad that he at least seems happy to meet you. “I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”
Rossi nods slowly, mouthing, “Good luck.”
You like him already. You smirk.
Hotch is standing behind his desk when you walk into his office, anger written all over his face. His arms are crossed over his chest, fingers picking at his nails ever so slightly.
“Close the door.”
“Promise not to shoot me?” you joke, but it doesn’t land. You shut the door and take a seat in front of his desk while he remains standing. “Well?”
Finally, he speaks. “What the hell are you doing here?”
You let out a laugh. “Oh, great.” You sit up because this is just stupid. “Are you kidding me? This is the last division I wanted to work in, but I was transferred here. At your behest, might I add—”
“I can assure you, Agent L/N, I did not request that you join my team,” he says as he sits down, rolling toward his desk and placing his arms over the files littered before him.
“Well then Agent Reynolds is a fucking liar, I guess,” you deadpan. “He’s the one who told me I was assigned to the BAU — because of you.”
“Well it wasn’t me.”
“Glad we got that settled,” you shoot back, wanting instead to add, like I fucking care if it was you or not. “Listen, whether either of us likes it or not, I was assigned here, so I’m here. If you want me to leave, take it up with Agent Reynolds or whoever the fuck really requested me. But I can’t do shit about this, and this is now my job, so I’m not leaving just because you want to have some pissing contest.”
He looks like he’s chewing on fire. “Your job security is not my problem—”
“For God’s sake, call your fucking boss, it won’t make you any less of a man to ask a goddamn question about why you have a new agent in your office.”
Hotch glares at you, but does as you say, picking up his desk phone and pressing a few buttons.
You sit back in your chair, waiting in silence. You turn your head to look through the blinds because Hotch didn’t close them all the way, and you nearly start to laugh. Huddled around one desk, Morgan, JJ, Emily, Reid, and another blonde woman dressed in bright colors and shapes are listening intently to Reid who is no doubt lip reading and translating this entire conversation.
Finally, the line connects and Hotch starts speaking. Almost as quick as the phone call begins, it ends.
“Well?” you ask.
“There was some miscommunication,” Hotch admits, though he does not look happy about it. “Welcome to the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”
You smile sarcastically. “Thank you, Agent Hotchner.”
“You’re dismissed,” he says. “We’ll meet in the conference room in five minutes to discuss the rest of today. Don’t be late.”
“Yes, sir,” you mutter as you escape his office, just glad he didn’t torture you with a handshake.
Emerging from Hotch’s office, you stand against the railing and ask the team where the conference room is.
Morgan points to your left. “Why?”
“He told me we’re meeting there to discuss—”
“That’s on hold now,” JJ says, whirling around the BAU with an armful of files. “We’ve got a case. Missing girl, thirteen years old.” She passes out files in the bullpen, handing one to you as she ascends the stairs.
“Shit,” you mutter. “How long has she been missing?”
“Starting without me?” Hotch asks as he walks out of his office. He takes a file from JJ and says a quiet, “Thanks.”
“Yep, we are,” you say right back, scanning your file. You think you hear Rossi let out a chuckle at your response. “Gone since this morning. Are they certain it wasn’t overnight?”
“The mother dropped Lila off at school this morning at seven, and by nine, she was absent,” JJ explains as everyone fills into the conference room. “They paged her at school over the intercom, but she’s not in any of the classrooms.”
“How are we hearing about this so quickly?” Morgan asks. “I mean, I’m glad, but it’s been…just over an hour. We don’t normally have this much time.”
“Because,” JJ pauses, pointing the remote toward the TV. “This is Lila’s father.”
On the screen, the FBI’s Most Wanted are staring back at you. JJ clicks again, and one face comes forward.
“Who?” Emily says.
“Richard Monroe,” Reid says aloud. “He’s been on the run for almost two years. He’s said to have killed a dozen people, all females, but they suspect there might be more. Every time we’ve come close to catching him, he gets away.”
“And now his daughter is missing,” Rossi adds. “I’m guessing this guy is our unsub.”
“I don’t know,” you stare into Richard’s eyes on the screen. “When was he last seen?”
“You can investigate that when we get there,” Hotch says curtly. “They’re waiting for us and we’ll lose time by flying. Wheels up in ten.”
Everyone files out of the room and Hotch stays back, waiting for you to be the last one in the room.
“Agent L/N,” Hotch gets your attention. “Since you’ve never tackled a case like this before, try your best to follow orders, and watch what the team does. Don’t make any rash decisions and don’t go off on your own.”
None of his comments anger you as much as the first one. “You don’t know that I’ve never encountered something like this.”
“Don’t argue with me when we have a missing girl,” Hotch snaps. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” you reply, pushing past him.
“I hope you have a go bag,” he calls after you. “There will be no time for shopping when we’re on the ground.”
“Then I’ll just wear your clothes!” you yell back, knowing it’ll get a rise out of him. You hear Morgan snicker down in the bullpen.
“Agent L/N,” Hotch says, and when you turn around, you see he’s giving you his famous stare.
You sigh. “My bag is in my car. It’ll take me two minutes to grab it. That’s clearly less than ten. Unless you have anything else to say that might delay me further?”
“Go,” he says, waving you away as he heads into his office to grab his bag. “Now.”
+++
While you’re on the jet, you do some research on Richard Monroe. He’s a grade A piece of shit if you’ve ever seen one.
But he’s not the type to go after his daughter.
“Garcia, can you check and see if Richard tried at all to contact Lila on her cell?” you ask.
“I would, sweets, but I can’t find Lila’s phone. Their house phone, however, has no calls.”
“He wouldn’t call the house phone, not with Lila’s mom watching over her like a hawk,” you murmur.
Hotch lifts his head. “How do you know that?”
“Know what?”
“That her mother would be overbearing.”
“Her father’s a serial killer on the run, Hotch,” you reply. “Any mother would keep tabs on her daughter’s every breath if she had a father like that. It’s logic.”
“She makes a fair point,” Rossi says.
“It’s unfounded,” Hotch ignores him, still dead set on irritating you. “Until you talk to her mother, don’t jump to any conclusions about her behavior.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Until I do?”
“Yes, you will be talking to her mother when we get on the ground. Morgan will go with you.” He nods to Derek. “Reid, you and JJ get set up at the precinct. Prentiss, Rossi, and I will go to the middle school. We’ll meet back at the precinct to discuss our next steps.”
You share a look with Morgan before sinking back in your chair, glaring at the file instead of Hotch.
It's going to be a long fucking day.
#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch x fem!reader#hotch x you#enemies to lovers#criminal minds fanfiction#angst angst angst#The Gambit
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Made to Destroy ⭑˚💎⭑ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑
bnha x op!reader
op!reader, my hero academia x fem!reader, reverse harem, over powered reader, f!reader
You are the product of a series of twisted experiments, an anomaly that shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place. Thankfully, you are taken into the arms of a hero and given a new purpose in life. But as you soon discover, it isn’t easy to deny your true nature, especially when you were made to destroy.
prologue | story masterlist | next
I don’t know where I’m going.
You’ve been walking for a while now, with no real destination in mind. Truthfully, you’re not searching for anyplace in particular. You just figure that anywhere will be better than being stuck with that crazy old man.
So, you walk. The building you’ve just come out of is rather secluded, tucked away behind a canopy of trees. There’s no one else as far as the eye can see, so you make the journey in total silence, instead focusing on the sweet-tasting air, and the little birds that flit from branch to branch.
The minutes trickle on, turning to hours, and you find yourself weighed down by a heavy feeling that must be fatigue.
But it’s okay. Because it seems like you’ve just reached the city.
Here, you are no longer alone. It’s crowded and busy, and there are tons of people roaming about. You can’t help but blink in awe. Up until now, the only person you’ve met was Dr. Garaki. You never imagined that there would be so many others besides him.
Curious, you take a step forward.
Only to be immediately pulled back.
“Be careful!” a woman cries out, and something speeds past you at that very moment, just narrowly missing your body. You frown and look back at the woman in confusion. For some reason, she’s gasping for breath and her shoulders are trembling. “You almost walked right in front of that car,” she says shakily. “Seriously, you need to look both ways before crossing. The pedestrian light wasn’t even on.”
You’re not really sure what she’s talking about, but you nod nonetheless.
“Okay,” you reply. “Thank you.”
She lets go of your arm, then looks you over for quite a long time. Something about your appearance must not sit right with her, because her brow is now furrowed.
“Is everything okay—”
“Hey, what’s the hold up?” someone else interjects. It’s a man, and he loops his arm around the woman’s. “Come on, I’m in a hurry here. I need to get back to work soon.”
“Oh. This girl was about to wander out into the street, so I got worried about her,” she explains.
“Yeah? Well, she’s fine now, so let’s go. Like I said, I don’t have time for this.”
The woman is jerked along without another word, but you can see her glancing back over her shoulder every few moments, a look of concern plastered across her face.
Eventually, she disappears through the crowd, so you shrug and carry on walking.
A lot of people seem to be giving you funny looks. You don’t notice them at first, but eventually, you realize that you’re drawing a lot of attention to yourself. You’re not really sure why, though.
More importantly, so much of this is new to you. Not only are there tons of people, but there are countless buildings, in all colors and sizes, as well as other strange things you’ve never seen before. The world outside appears to be vibrant and bright, already a massive improvement to the dingy lab you awoke in.
You keep walking. Some people look like they want to call out to you, or at the very least, they’re thinking��about it, but ultimately, they reconsider and let you carry on your way.
Everyone disregards the fact that you’re a child all on your own and assumes that someone else will come to your rescue eventually. That’s the reasoning they use to spare themselves the hassle and wipe their hands of any responsibility.
And then, someone does come to your rescue.
“Hello there, little girl. Are you by yourself?”
It’s a tall man with a warm, inviting smile. He fixes you in a tender gaze, and unlike everyone else, he takes the time to find out how you’re doing.
You nod in agreement. “Yes. I’m alone.”
For some reason, the man’s smile grows even wider. Unfortunately, you’re too naïve to realize why.
“Well, that just won’t do,” he hums. “It’s not safe for a kid like you to be all alone on the streets. How about I help you out? I can get you something to eat too. You sound like you’re hungry.”
Hungry? You’re not too familiar with the term, but perhaps he’s referring to how your stomach is grumbling without pause. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, one that you’d been trying to disregard up until now. But if this man says he can help with that, you’ll gladly take him up on his offer.
“I think I am hungry,” you concede. “I want to try eating something.”
“Of course,” he grins. “Just follow me.”
So, you do. It doesn’t occur to you that perhaps you shouldn’t trust people so blindly, especially given the experience you’ve already had with Dr. Garaki. But as you will soon discover, the outside world is plenty dangerous too, and your total ignorance makes you all the more vulnerable to it.
The man reaches over to grab your hand in his, and he seems tickled pink by the fact that you don’t try to refuse.
For a while, the two of you walk like that, hand-in-hand. You keep looking around the whole time, trying to make sense of your surroundings, and eventually, you see something that makes your eyes widen.
“There,” you say, pointing towards a building. You can see through its glass windows, and the people inside are all sitting at tables and shoveling various things into their mouth. They’re... eating, right? They must be. Your brain instinctively makes the connection, and right on cue, your stomach starts grumbling even more.
“What is it?” the man frowns.
“They’re eating food,” you say. “In there. Can we go in to eat too? I’m hungry.”
“Ah. I actually don’t have a lot of money on hand,” he sighs. “But I’ve got a nice meal waiting for us back home. I can get you more comfortable clothes to change into as well. Don’t worry. It’ll be way better than sitting in a cramped diner.”
You tilt your head to the side, confused. “But they’re all eating, and I want to eat too. I don’t feel like waiting any longer. I want to go there.”
“Like I said, I don’t have money,” he explains.
“Money?”
Yet another term you’ve never heard before. There’s a lot that you don’t understand, that you still need to learn. Of course, the man can’t possibly know that, so he must assume you’re just playing dumb.
“Everyone else is eating, so why can’t we do it too?” you ask.
He clicks his tongue, and his smile drops for the very first time. “Don’t be difficult,” he grimaces. You notice that his grip on your hand has become tighter. “I promise I’ll give you some food at home, so please just listen to me, okay?”
Despite his insistence, you stubbornly root your feet into the ground. There’s food right on the other side of that window, and you’re not going anywhere until you’ve tried some for yourself.
“I want to go in there,” you say again. “I’m not leaving.”
It seems like that’s really not what the man wanted to hear, because all of a sudden, anger flashes through his eyes, and he pulls you forcefully, making you stumble forward in bewilderment.
Then, he throws you over his shoulder.
“I played nice and gave you a chance,” he glares. “All you had to do was not act out like a little brat.”
He’s running now, still gripping you tight and refusing to let go. All you can do is gape, watching as the diner fades further and further into the distance. You lament the loss of your food, which now appears to be hopelessly out of reach. The hunger is getting worse by the second, too. It feels like your stomach is about to implode.
You know what you have to do. You need to fight this guy off and break free of him. But much to your dismay, you can’t muster up the strength, no matter how hard you try. That feeling from before, when you channeled all that energy... it’s gone. And you’re not quite sure how to bring it back.
“I want food,” you groan, feeling weaker by the second. The man pays you no mind, of course. He keeps running as fast as his feet will carry him. You wonder where he’s taking you. Wherever it is, you doubt it’s anywhere good. It seems like Dr. Garaki isn’t the only crazy bastard in this world.
So, you escaped. Only to be captured by yet another maniac.
And to think that this is only your first day of living.
“It’s going to be okay,” the man reassures, laughing in a shaky, deranged manner. “You’ll see. The two of us... we’ll be happy together. I’ll take care of you and give you everything you want.”
“...is that so? And here I was, thinking that you’d kidnapped the poor girl.”
Another man’s voice. It’s deep, but soft, and it catches you completely by surprise, since you were convinced that no one else was anywhere near you.
The man who kidnapped you cries out, but it’s too late. Something tough and sturdy wraps around his body and immobilizes him, and in the next moment, your feet are resting comfortably on the ground, right where they ought to be.
You look up at your savior, who has pale skin, long disheveled black hair, and a lethargic yet stern expression.
His name is Aizawa Shouta, and he will change the course of your life forever.
“I’ll never understand what goes through the minds of sickos like you,” Aizawa mutters.
“I-I wasn’t doing anything wrong!” the other man frantically protests. He’s bound by some weird kind of cloth, and it’s safe to say that he isn’t going anywhere. “We were just enjoying a nice day out, and she was getting a bit rowdy, that’s all. I was bringing her home so that she could calm down! Isn’t that right?”
He looks over at you expectantly, perhaps hoping that you’ll help him get out of this sticky situation.
But just because you’re more ignorant than the average person doesn’t mean you’re stupid.
It's obvious that he’s a bad guy, just like Dr. Garaki.
“I only met you a few minutes ago,” you say. “And you promised me food but got angry when I wanted to go inside one of the buildings. You grabbed me and forced me to go with you, even though I didn’t want to.”
Aizawa narrows his eyes, and the man chuckles nervously in response. “Sh-She’s always such a joker. Come on, don’t be that way. You’re going to get your old man in trouble.”
“Nice try,” Aizawa comments insincerely. “But I’m afraid there’s only one place for creeps like you.”
The man wails out in protest yet again, but all his pleas fall on deaf ears. It looks like he’s in a lot of trouble. You’re not sure where he’s being sent to, but it probably isn’t someplace nice.
Aizawa grips onto the cloths tightly, but finally spares you a proper glance. “More importantly, are you okay, kid? That must’ve given you a fright. Everything’s fine now. You’re safe.”
You frown. Can you really trust him? It’s only been a few hours since you’ve awoken, but so far, your experience with people has been disappointing to say the least. You’re starting to realize that you have to be more on guard. There’s no telling what someone will do next.
“Who are you?” you ask. “What if you try to hurt me, too?”
Aizawa smiles sympathetically. “Yes, I understand why you might feel that way. But I promise I’m different from this dirtbag. I’m a hero. Protecting people is what I do. That much, I can promise you.”
A hero. For some reason, the word evokes a strong feeling.
Kill heroes. Kill heroes. Kill heroes.
You wince. That voice in the back of your head is acting up again, making you feel all jumbled up and icky inside. It’s the same voice that was commanding you to obey Dr. Garaki. The voice that you instinctively know you can’t trust.
But much like before, you manage to fight against it. You shove it to the back of your mind and disregard what it has to say.
The man in front of you says he’s a hero, and apparently, heroes are supposed to help people. It’s possible that he’s lying. It’s possible that you’re being set up for disappointment again.
But you decide to give him a chance.
“I’m Aizawa,” he introduces.
“I’m [Name],” you say. Even if Dr. Garaki was the one to give you this name, it’s yours now, and you are determined to cherish it.
Aizawa nods, offers you a small smile, then reaches out to you.
You take his hand.
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✦ BIRTHDAY PRINCESS
✦ one shot ,, michael kaiser x gn!reader
✦ content:: coming back from an overseas match, kaiser didn't expect to find you literally slide towards him to greet him for his birthday
fluff/crack, 1580 words
additional:: reader has ZERO shame, affectionate asf reader, slight suggestive joke but it's so corny we js ignore it, loving kaiser so hard he almost freaks out but the keyword is almost, author did not know what she was doing, semi-rushed ending but that's because author wanted to clutch this for his birthday, swearing warning though I believe people are already used to that
You had a card up your sleeve.
No, seriously. You had a card up your sleeve at the moment. Not a playing card, though. It was a birthday card. For who? Your not-so-lovely boyfriend: Michael Kaiser. Well, now that you think of it, you did have another card up your sleeve. You planned to be a little devious. Just a little. You swear you won't be a public nuisance by doing this.
It's December 24th, a few minutes before midnight. You were in a private lobby of an airport, equipped with a portable speaker and a semi-charged phone, waiting for Kaiser— who was returning from an overseas match— just so you could drive him back home and make him your passenger prince, as a sign of affection, of course.
You kept looking around, staring at the signs that showed flights, waiting for his flight's status to turn to ‘arrived’. It's been a good few hours of waiting, already. You swore you got here right when the sun finished setting. This shit is taking forever. Then again, it was the holidays, so it's to be expected that places like the airport were bustling with people and fully booked flights, which might be the cause of delays.
Right as you thought you might crash out from waiting, they finally announced the planet's arrival. You ascended in joy, proceeding to basically cheer to the heavens above inwardly. You burnt holes into the door of the lobby with just your gaze, going back to your plan of totally not embarrassing both of you in front of the team.
The entrance handle twisted, and the door opened. You see the iconic blond and blue locks as he walks through, and you're filled with familiarity. On cue, you press the play button on your phone, making his eyes snap to you as the audio plays obnoxiously loud through the room.
You catch a brief glimpse of a judgemental expression on Kaiser's face. He barely had any time to ask you what in the actual hell you were doing, before you were already sliding to him on your knees, in sync with the lyrics from the song that blasted from the speakers connected to your phone
“THERE GOES MY BABYYYY.”
“What the fuck–?” his curse was cut off by you making contact with him. He was utterly flabbergasted, and you were just calmly latching onto his torso, just like the clip of this trend you were referencing. Kaiser suddenly grows aware of what was going on, as well as his surroundings, and he suddenly felt like hissing and thrashing away from you like an angry cat that did not want to be picked up.
You were not letting go, though.
With your arms wrapped around his waist, you were completely content with staying like that beside him. He was comfortable to hold, anyway.
Yes, you were just completely ignoring the way he was attempting to peel you off of him like you were some disgusting tick that clung to him. You could tell some of his teammates in the room were staring at you two, too, but you could care less. Hey! At least you didn't do this in public public, right?
You acquired a minor bruise on your side because of that little stunt.
Kaiser accidentally kicked you while trying to shake you off of him. But you could say it was worth it. You wanted to try the trend on him, but he didn't agree like the killjoy he was, saying that ‘he wasn't gonna entertain any of your fantasies about being able to hold him like that, even though that desperate display might be amusing.’ This was the only opportunity you could think of. You definitely had no other choice, so fuck it, you went ball and did it.
Now, he was staring at you— practically scolding you silently. You smiled it off because you were just a chill guy. “I have another card up my sleeve,” you remarked. That sentence alone had him debating whether to question how he was into you or to play along. Kaiser decided to do both, with the former being to himself, and the latter being what he did to you.
“Don't you dare pull some weird shit,” he muttered under his breath, sounding a bit exasperated, before sighing and replying more forwardly. “And that is?” Kaiser prompted, waiting for you to reveal whatever you wanted to show him now. He watches you reach into your sleeve, pulling out an actual card. You took his hand, planting the parchment into his palm— facing down— before retracting your arms, wearing an innocent smile in your face that just screamed mischief.
He looked back and forth between you and the letter in his hands, like you just handed him a ticking bomb. “It's a card for you. Open it,” you urged, and Kaiser could notice how enthusiastic you were, eager to see him read whatever was written. He hesitantly turned his gaze back down at it, unfolding and reading it, purposefully not out loud because he just knows it’s some bizzare freak.
Happy Birth ay!
I’ll give you the d later. ;)
These words were bolded. Kaiser’s eyes went back to you— still smiling with faux innocence— and stared at you disapprovingly, as if you were some abnormality. “...What the fuck?” he asks, making you grin wider in your successful tomfoolery. It was too late for this— or rather, too early. It's already 12 in the morning.
“Isn’t it amazing?” you comment, being met with the card being thrown to you, lightly making contact with your face. You gasped in overdramatic offence, easily catching the piece of paper. “Wow, you have no taste in absolute art,” you remark, leading to Kaiser sneering at you.
“I do. You're the one who doesn't,” he replied, heading away from you and to the exit of the airport, acting like he doesn't know you once passing by a more crowded area. He wasn't gonna associate with your weirdness.
You went after him with the straightest face you could muster. You were nonchalant like that.
Going to his car, he raised an eyebrow when you led him towards the side where the passenger seat was. He was skeptical about you driving. Who can blame him? He rarely sees you drive, plus it's late at night— though he figures you were less tired than him for still being this energetic. He can trust you with not crashing the car this one time, maybe.
You opened the door for him, really putting in effort into making sure he had full service. Inside the vehicle, the first thing he sees is a bouquet of blue roses on the seat. Then, he notices the little crocheted dog plushie beside it. He turns to look at you, a smirk etching on his face, but you could tell it almost resembled a genuine smile. “You've outdone yourself, huh? I'll give you an A for actually pulling this off.”
“How generous of you,” you say in return, gently closing the car door after him. Once you were in the car, yourself, you started the engine, doing all the necessary safety shit like buckling in your seatbelt and whatnot.
When you turned over to where Kaiser was, he was staring at you. Not in the cute affectionate way, more like he was observing you. “Don’t crash,” he instructs after a short, silent staring contest. You simply smile innocently in return— you've been doing that a lot for a while now— and look back to the steering wheel, putting your hand on it and stepping on the pedal.
How fortunate. You can actually drive decently. Enough to bring you two safely from one point to another.
The plush and flowers were placed on his lap, and he found himself fiddling with the blue petals. Usually, he hates surprises. As well as presents. But coming from you, he supposes it's an exception. It might even be endearing. But perhaps that was just his personal bias due to being your boyfriend.
Kaiser leans on the car window, feeling the cool glass against his skin. You could almost feel those azure eyes watching you while you navigate through the streets, but you kept your own on the road. You could see how his gaze is almost soft, and how the mask of confidence and self-assurance he refused to not wear around others wasn't plastered on his face. You could tell that it was a sight that only you had the privilege of seeing.
It was nice to see him be like this— genuine without hiding behind a constructed facade. It might be cheesy, but you’d forever cherish the way he willingly lets his guard down around you. You could say that that's one of the reasons you like to do things for him.
And to him, having you— someone he found himself genuinely trusting— around was alike to having found a solace. Like a place of refuge. Whenever it was just you and him, he didn't have to be Kaiser: the German prodigy, a football star. He could just be Michael.
Plus, though he might never admit it to you nor himself, he's found himself starting to like the way you give him affection. He's been deprived of it for too long, and you're willing and ready to give it to him with warmth.
Maybe he could get used to gifts— especially when it's coming from you.
(a/n):: I can't do this I love him sm ANW happy birthday Kaiser ml my pretty wife <33 and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!!
taglist: @shrii-kk, @tired-xyra-urstruly, @fishii28, @yui2aku
@lakeside-paradise
© fumiscripts 2024. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.
#✦ written in ink.#✦ featuring: michael kaiser#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock fanfic#bllk fanfic#kaiser michael#michael kaiser bllk#kaiser x reader#blue lock michael kaiser#bllk kaiser#blue lock kaiser#michael kaiser#kaiser michael x reader#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser blue lock#bllk michael kaiser#michael kaiser x you#kaiser michael x you#bllk#blue lock#bllk oneshot#oneshot#kaiser oneshot#blue lock oneshots#kaiser fluff#bllk fluff#blue lock fluff#writers on tumblr
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“DAD! DADA!”
Steve groans against the pillow, trying to bury his face further into it. It’s a harder than normal pillow, because it’s Billy’s chest, but surely there’s some give there for Steve.
“WAKE UP, IT’S CHRISTMAS!”
“That it is, Ocean.” Billy’s voice sounds dry and cracked and smells heavily of peppermint. And not like toothpaste.
They don’t have a lot of chance to get out and party now that they’re parents, so they took a few extra sips of peppermint schnapps while setting out Ocean’s Christmas bounty from Santa. Sue them.
“We’re getting there, baby.” Steve mumbles.
“You’re being a lazybones! Grammas already up and Uncle Jonathan AND Aunt Nancy AND-“ She cries, using the word Billy often uses to get her up.
“Ok, ok, we’re doing it,” Steve groans, raising his head that now feels way too heavy.
She squeals, leaving the room like a rocket, and Billy, adorably, covers his ears.
“Fuck, I’ve totally lost my edge,” He groans, “I had like one glass.”
“Not true, you had half the bottle, and I had half the bottle,” Steve mumbles, trying to be quiet.
“How’d you know that?”
Steve holds the empty bottle up.
Billy just winces. “Fair enough. I bet your mom has something for a hangover around here.”
Steve snorts. “Yeah it’s a HEAVY pour Bloody Mary.”
Billy groans. “Joyce, then.”
Steve tugs on his pajama top and tosses the matching one over to Billy. They each have to lean on each other a little to make it down the hall.
“How’d you trick me into this again?” Steve asks.
“Me trick you? As if, Pretty Boy, you were all my mom’s right down the hall if Ocean needs anything.” Billy sniffs. “You’re a siren. A drinking siren.”
They stumble down the stairs, taking in the Christmas lights and Steve’s mom’s new helmet hair cut that gleams just as expensively. Divorce suits her. She and Joyce are giggling over at the buffet, where it looks like someone brought in bagels.
“Hey, mom said to give you guys this?” Jonathan walks up and hands them two fizzing glasses. He’s wearing a vibrant blue Hanukkah sweater that hurts Steve’s eyes to look at, but he forces himself to do it anyway. God, his mom is going to force him into his own later. He can already feel the cashmere tight around his neck.
Billy sniffs his. “Alka seltzer. Joyce is a saint. Good to see you, brother.”
Jonathan grins, “You too.”
Ocean is sitting by the tree, eyes aglow in anticipation. Last night they had opened family presents with Max and Lucas, which is where they all got these spiffy and excruciatingly hot (when you’re hungover) Christmas pajamas, courtesy of Mrs Sinclair.
Steve drags his husband forward to the couch, where they flop next to Will and Nancy who is also quiet and holding a fuzzy glass of her own. She smiles at them weakly.
Ocean looks back at them. “Dada, is it time?”
Maybe it’s the hangover. Probably is a little. But Steve’s heart grows three sizes as he looks down at her. He knows that many of them feel the same way. That last night, looking at Vecna’s charred remains, he could never imagine a future as bright and good as her. As this.
He turns to his husband. “Well, Dada? Is it time?”
Happy crisis @intothedysphoria
#billy hargrove#harringrove#steve harrington#billy x steve#steve x billy#it’s crysler#happy harringrovedays!#my writing#kid fic#look at that
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So you know how many of the jjk men like to tease…? Autistic reader who can’t tell they’re teasing pls 🙏🥺
Such a great concept, anon! I don't know much of autism, just that it's a spectrum, so I hope I've written this well! Also, I wasn't sure if you wanted a SMAU, so I'm just doing a regular thing <3!
JJK men x Autistic!reader
ft. Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro
TW: angst, hurt to comfort
pt. 1(?)
A/N: This isn't necesarilly autistic!reader coded, this can count for everybody! also i dunno if I'll make a second part, but we'll see.
Satoru Gojo
You were out with your boyfriend, Satoru, to a café in a more quiet part in Tokyo after a long business trip he had to take. He held your hand in his, fingers intertwining while sitting next to the other as you both looked at the menu to see what drinks and foods sparked your interest the most. You pointed at something on the menu, it was a pancake sandwhich shaped like a cat! It was absolutely adorable in your eyes, and you just had to show your boyfriend!
"Satoru, look! A pancake sandwhich shaped like a cat!"
The white haired sorcerer chuckled softly upon your excited chirping. He peered over your shoulder to see the food item that got you so excited. A little smirk formed on his lips as his sunglass-covered eyes scanned the picture
"A pancake sandwhich, huh? You're really lettin' yourself go, babycakes."
Satoru commented as he kissed your cheek. He didn't hold any malice in his tone, he was just teasing you. But to you, it felt like he thought you were gaining too much weight. You placed the menu card down, and got up. Mumbling you had to go to the bathroom. Satoru noticed the look in your eyes. But before he could ask anything, you already went to the restroom. Satoru decided to wait for you to come back, not thinking much of it. That was, until you were in the restroom for longer than usual, which made him grow concerned. He grabbed his phone, texting you.
.
"Mochi? What's taking so long?"
.
After a couple seconds, Satoru noticed you read his text, but you didn't reply. He knew you only left him on read if you were either multi-tasking or if you were mad at him. He assumed the latter.
Meanwhile, you were crying in the bathroom stall, thinking your boyfriend thought you were getting too fat for his liking. You tried to calm yourself down by playing with your rings, but it didn't help much. In the midst of your crying session, you could hear a familliar knock on the door of the women's restroom and a soft voice speaking from behind it.
"Honeybun? Are you there? Can you come out for me, please?"
You let out a shaky sigh, stepping out of the stall. You quickly washed your face and dried it with a paper towel before stepping out, avoiding your boyfriend's concerning gaze. He gently took your hand and lead you out of the cafe to a side alley before speaking
"What's wrong, sweetpea? Did something overwhelm you? You can talk with me, I'll listen"
Satoru stated, a soft smile on his lips as he tried to comfort you by rubbing a thumb over your knuckles, waiting patiently as you gathered the courage to voice your thoughts.
"Toru? Do you think I'm gaining too much weight for your liking?"
You avoided his widening gaze when the words fell from your lips. Satoru was silent for a second before speaking up, his voice soft
"What? Of course not, babycakes! You're perfect to me, so what makes ya think that?"
A lump you didn't know was in your throat got swallowed as a red blush crept on your cheeks from embarassment and endearment. Of course Satoru thought you were perfect, he always told you that. But his words just felt so mean to you..
"Well.. When we we're ordering and I showed you the pancake sandwhich, you said I was really letting myself go.."
Your boyfriend's blue eyes widened as guilt slowly filled them, he totally forgot that you had a hard time taking hints like sarcasm and teasing, taking things often too literally. He carefully wrapped his arms around you, holding you in a gentle embrace as he hid his face in your hair
"I'm so sorry, babycakes. I was just teasing you.. Didn't mean to make ya feel bad 'bout yourself.."
He mumbled, kissing the crown of your head. You hugged him back, sighing as you hid in his chest. You both stayed like that for a while until Satoru spoke up, a smile on his lips
"Cmon, babycakes. Let's go get those pancake sandwhiches. I'm starving"
It's save to say that Satoru would be trying his best to hold back his teasing comments for your own sake and self-esteem
Suguru Geto
Suguru walks after you in one of the bustling malls of Tokyo. Your boyfriend was internally disgusted by all the filfthy monkeys around you both, but he didn't let his distaste show. After all, today was supposed to be a fun shopping outing for the both of you since he has been preoccupied lately. Meanwhile, you happily gaze at the shop displays to see which shop you wanted to see first. Eventually, a cute display caught your eye. It was a beautiful layered dress with white frills at the edges. You headed towards the display and showed it to your raven-haired boyfriend
"Suguru, look how cute that dress is! Wouldn't it fit so well with my new shoes?"
Suguru switched his gaze from your beautiful face to the shopping display. He let out a soft huff, imagening you in that dress. It wasn't exactly your everyday style, but he knew you could make anything look good.
"Someone's feeling a little bold today, isn't she?"
Once those words left his mouth, you couldn't focus on what he was saying next. Did he think you wouldn't look good in it? Did he hate the dress? Was he making fun of it, of you??
Your racing thoughts distracted you from how he said you'd look good in it. Your feet simply dragged you away from the display. Suguru's eyebrows knitted together in concern as you suddenly left without a word. What happened? He couldn't tell. Your boyfriend wasted no time in following after you.
"Darling, what's wrong? I thought you said you liked the dress? Don't you want to get it?
He was met with silence, which he didn't like. He firmly grabbed your wrist, but still making sure not to hurt you.
"Sweetheart, I asked you something. The least you could do is answe-"
You suddenly pulled your hand out of his grip, telling him to leave you alone as you ran into the busy crowd. Suguru was concerned, what happened? Did he do something wrong? He honestly couldn't tell. When he tried following after you, he eventually lost you in the large crowd. Frustration and concern bubbled up inside him. The raven-haired cult leader sent out some of his smaller curses to search for you across the mall.
Meanwhile, you were infront of some sort of bookstore, panting heavily from how fast you were running. You felt like crying. Suguru's comment made you confused. He never said something like that to you, so it made you feel sad. You knew you shouldn't have just run off like that and give him an answer, but your emotions got a hold of you.
Still upset, you decided to head to a cafe across the bookstore and order yourself something to cheer yourself up. You sat on a sofa and ordered your favorite. A few minutes later, you got your drink and were about to enjoy it as much as you could until you noticed something out of the window.
It was one of Suguru's curses, jumping and pointing at you. In the distance, you could see Suguru approach. When he saw you through the cafe's window, he seemed relieved. Suguru flicked his wrist and the curse dissapeared as he made his way inside.
You sheepishly averted your gaze, your eyes filled with guilt. Suguru sat next to you and wrapped and arm around your waist, pulling you closer
"Oh, sweetheart. You're alright.."
His voice was filled with relief as he tenderly kissed your forehead before placing a hand on your soft cheek, his eyebrows still slightly furrowed.
"Why did you run away, love? What's going on? I wan't you to tell me the truth."
A sigh escaped your lips, averting your gaze as he cupped your face so tenderly. It made you feel bad about not telling him before.
"Well, when I showed you that dress, you said I was getting bold.. Do you think I'd look ugly with the dress, Sugu?"
Your boyfriend's eyebrows raised, realizing why you reacted like that so suddenly. He felt stupid now. He completely forgot you can't easily tell when someone's just teasing you.
"Oh, Y/N, I didn't mean it like that! I was just teasing you, I think you would look wonderful in that dress, my pretty girl."
Your cheeks reddened a little, feeling silly because of the way you reacted..
"I'm sorry, Sugu.. I should've told you earlier instead of acting so childish.."
Suguru smiled softly, kissing the top of your head while rubbing your back tenderly
"It's okay, pretty. 's not your fault." he mumbled, grabbing your hand in his.
"Let's go back to that store, and you can try out that dress to see for yourself how pretty you'll look, alright?"
And with a smile, you nodded. Quickly paying for your drink before walking hand-in-hand with Suguru to the shop. Guess this day will have a good end after all.
Toji Fushiguro
You and Toji had been dating for a while. You were aware of what he did, and that he wasn't always home because of it. But you didn't mind taking care of Megumi when he wasn't there, you loved the kid with your whole heart!
Today was one of those rare moments when Toji was home. Megumi was fast asleep and you two decided to have a cozy night in, watching TV. Though, you weren't really focused on the show in front of you, instead, you were talking Toji's ear off about a comic series you read with Megumi the other day. Toji listened to your every word, though it didn't look like he seemed interested, he was, really. He was happy whenever you and Megumi found something you both enjoyed, it made his heart swell despite the aloof exterior he always tried to keep.
Middle into your info-dumping session, Toji interrupted you
"Yeah, ma, sounds really interestin'. How 'bout we continue watching the movie, yeah?"
To Toji, it didn't feel like he said anything wrong, he just wanted you to also focus on the movie a little since you kept on asking him to see it. But to you it felt like he was dismissing your info-dumping. A seed of insecurity was planted into your head as the idea of Toji finding your constant chatting annoying gnawed at the back of your mind. So much to the point that you just zoned out.
Toji looked down at you, mindlessly staring into space. He waved a hand infront of you, but when you didn't react he called out to you
Eventually after the fifth time of him calling, you snapped out of your 'trance'. You looked up at Toji who seemed a little concerned
"Hey ma, y'r alright? You were kinda out of it just now"
You gulped, nodding your head while averting your eyes. You didn't feel so good, so you got up, saying you had to go to the bathroom.
Toji was a bit concerned, but he figured you just needed to wash your face or something.
So when you didn't come out the bathroom after 15 minutes, he got up and knocked on the door, being careful to not wake Megumi who was asleep down the hallway
"Everything good there, ma? You been there for a while now.."
Truth be told, everything was not good. You couldn't help overthinking about what he said, which lead to you subconsciously scratching your lower arms. You didn't hear Toji calling out for you until the door was suddenly kicked open.
There in the doorway stood Toji, who got onto his knees infront of you, holding your hands
"Hey, hey, ma. What's wrong, huh? Why y'r scratchin' yerself? Come on, talk to me, sweetheart."
You managed to look up at Toji, blinking a few times and taking some deep breaths before speaking
"It's.. It's just- God, Toji- do you think I'm.. annoying? That I.. talk too much?"
The raven haired man's eyebrows knitted together at that question, one of his hands went to caress your cheek with his thumb while the other still held your hand
"Hah? Course not, ma. What makes ya think that?"
You look down at your hands before looking back up at Toji. God, you felt so embarassed, and for what? You didn't know. You let out a shaky breath before replying
"Well.. When I was talking to you about the comics I read with Megumi the other day, it felt like you were dismissing me cause I talk to much.."
Toji let out a huff when you said that, though it wasn't one of annoyance. He gently wrapped his big arms around you, bringing you close
"I'm sorry, dollface. Didn't mean to make you feel that way. I love hearing ya talk, ma. But I wanted to have you focus on the movie 'cause you kept asking to see it with me."
That made your cheeks flush in embarassment, you hid your face into Toji's chest, mumbling apologies which earned you a gentle swat at the back of your head from Toji.
"Don't apologize, dollface. Now, how 'bout we watch the movie another time and you tell me all about those comics, yea?"
When Toji saw you nodding your head, he grinned and picked you up over his shoulder, which made you squeal in surprise. The assasin went to grab the doorknob, but then realized that he had kicked it down...
Guess you two will have to go door shopping tomorrow..
#mishietishie#jjk#writers on tumblr#jjk x reader#toji fushiguro#satoru gojo#suguru geto#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#suguru geto x you#fushiguro toji x you#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x reader#suguru x reader#satoru x reader#angst to comfort#jjk angst to comfort#jjk fanfic#fem!reader#nb!reader
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[krampus] Michael 1/3
krampus!Michael x human!Reader Good to know: a bit mean Michael, a bit crying Reader but nothing too serious
Summary: You want to ask your neighbor a favor but it doesn't go well.
You shouldn't do this. It's a bad idea. Maybe even insensitive, too. Probably. But despite your inner battle, you still find yourself knocking on your neighbor's door, a small, hopeful part of you wishing he wouldn't answer. Maybe it would be better if he wouldn't answer. You could go back to your apartment as if nothing happened. After all, he might not even be home. You could still slip away unnoticed. Yeah, best to just-
A faint clink of keys jangling filters through the door, followed by the sound of a lock turning. Your heart stutters in your chest, and you nearly turn to leave, but then the door swings open. He leans against the doorway, arms crossed in front of him. He is dressed in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, hanging low on his lean hips, and his bare chest is right at your eye level, all tight muscle and fur. You can see the slight rise and fall of his breathing, a steady rhythm that draws your gaze up to his face. He raises an eyebrow, his gaze curious, almost amused, as he waits for you to say something.
"Hey," you smile up at him, trying to keep your voice steady.
"Hey," Michael replies, tilting his head slightly as a playful smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Can I help you with something?"
Heat spreads up your cheeks, and you swallow, nodding. "Yes," you say, licking your lips nervously. "And, um… you can totally say no," you add in a rush, wanting to soften the blow of your unusual request. "But, well… there's this holiday program at the mall for the kids. A Christmas event."
You watch his golden eyes narrow slightly, suspicion flickering in their depths as he raises an eyebrow. "And?" he asks slowly as if he already knows where this is going, and he isn’t sure he likes it.
"And… we lost an elf today," you say, cringing a little as the words leave your mouth.
His thick brow arches even higher. "Lost?" he repeats.
You shake your head quickly. "Got sick," you clarify. "So, we’re in desperate need of someone to, um… step in as her replacement."
The male's gaze sweeps over you as if weighing whether you're actually serious. "Let me get this straight," he says, his tone laced with skepticism. "You want me to be an elf?"
You let out a soft scoff, trying to play it cool, though the heat creeping up your face tells a different story. "No," you reply, attempting to sound casual. "Of course not."
"You want me to be the Krampus," he states, not asking but knowing. He’s already put it all together.
You nod, swallowing, and manage a barely audible, "Yes."
"You want a krampus to play the Krampus at your little Christmas event so all the kids can run screaming to their parents and Santa?" His voice is firm and steady, his gaze heavy and unyielding as it rests on you.
You clear your throat, trying to salvage what’s left of your request, but his intense gaze makes it nearly impossible to keep a straight face. "Well," you begin, forcing a lightness into your tone, "kids cry over everything anyway."
"You know it's a bit offensive, right?" he asks with a hint of reproach as he straightens to his full height. His chestnut-brown fur catches the warm glow from his apartment. The sight is both mesmerizing and, admittedly, a bit intimidating. "You know how many kids started crying from seeing me just today?"
You are not exactly sure what pushes you over the edge. Maybe it’s his voice, firm and edged with a hint of irritation. Or maybe it's the way he towers over you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his tall frame casting a shadow over you that makes you feel small and cornered. Then there’s the sight of his horns, long and formidable, curling back before angling upwards toward the ceiling. Or perhaps it’s the subtle snarl twisting his lips, his fangs just barely visible as he speaks. You can't be sure what it is exactly, but after weeks of long hours spent at the mall, surrounded by crying kids and endlessly unsatisfied parents, you feel something inside you start to unravel. It’s the exhaustion catching up to you, the weight of it all pressing down so hard that you can barely hold it together. Your throat tightens, and before you can stop it, you feel the sting behind your eyes. The first tear slips free, hot and fast, and suddenly, you can’t stop them. They fall in quick succession, betraying you before you have a chance to look away or try to fix yourself.
Michael’s posture shifts immediately, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features as he takes in the sight of you, but before he can say anything to make it better or worse, you feel the words spill out of you uncontrollably. “God, I know it’s a stupid request,” you snap at him shakily. “I know it’s insensitive, alright? I know! I’m not an idiot, I get it. I’ve spent weeks at that goddamn mall with kids crying over every little thing, parents complaining about everything. And don't even let me start with that stupid elf costume I have to wear every day! And I just… I just thought, maybe, just maybe, if you helped, it would make it less awful for a second. But I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t think you’d actually-” You take a breath, forcing yourself to steady your words. “You didn’t have to make it worse. If you’d just said no, that would’ve been enough. I didn’t need- I didn’t need you to make me feel even worse.” Your voice wavers slightly as you continue, the tears starting to slow, but the frustration still raw. "I don’t need anyone else making it harder, Michael." You shake your head, wiping your eyes to get rid of the salty wetness that probably smudged your makeup all over your flushed face.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, you let the silence fall between you for a long, tense second. The words have left you, but the weight of them still lingers.
After what feels like an eternity, you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Thank you, anyway," you grunt, forcing the words out, though they feel hollow.
Without waiting for a response, without even giving him another glance, you turn on your heel and rush back to the safety of your apartment. The sound of your feet pounding against the floor echoes in your ears, but you don’t dare look back. Not even once. You don’t see the way Michael stands there, his eyes following your retreating form, and you don’t see his friend joining him at the door, patting the krampus on the shoulder with a sarcastic hum under his breath, “Well, you really make everyone cry, don’t you?”
_ You can read the other two parts (I will post them on Dec. 24 and 25) on my Patreon where I post a story every day this month.
#monster romance#monster x human#monster x reader#monster boyfriend#teratophillia#monster fucker#terat0philliac#monsterfucker#terato#krampus x reader#monster x you#krampus romance
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒✮
"𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦��𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐘𝐨𝐮!"
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
Pairing: Monster trio! x reader!
Prompt: The gifts you give to the trio and the gifts they'd give you!
Warnings: just mostly fluff and fun
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮
𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘
I feel like Luffy would treasure anything you gave him, like how he is with his hat
So he wouldn't mind whatever you got him and didn't understand why you got so stressed when it came to you getting him a gift
So on Christmas he was excited to see what you got him munching on gingerbread man
He absolutely SUCKS at getting someone a gift
He would think it a good gift and honestly you don't have the heart to tell him it's bad
Once you both exchanged gifts he had a bright gleam in his eye as he watched you open your gift
His grin grew much wider as you smiled at the small necklace he got you it had a little 'L' on it (Nami totally didn't throw away his gift and switch it out)
He hurried and unwrapped his gift his grin dropping as he sees a framed picture of him and his brothers, and two necklaces one with your first initial and the other one with the initials 'ASL'
You were worried you may have made him upset but when his arms wrapped around you tightly you smile as he tackled you into a hug, comedic tears running down his face
"Th-This is the best gift ever!" he shouted smushing his cheek against yours
Safe to say he liked your gift
𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎
I can't see Zoro as someone who gives thoughtful gifts, like at all...
He would "gift" whatever he found laying around
No joke he literally got you one of his weights put it in a lazily wrapped box and handed it over to you
It wasn't until AFTER Nami cracked her fist over his head that he started putting in more effort but ONLY for you
He would be stuck and would need help from Nami and Robin to get you a gift
But it wasn't of much help Nami spouting "get them something pretty! Or expensive!" and Robin stating "Get them something they like, or something with important meaning"
So he left the women figuring they wouldn't be of much help
And don't get me wrong he would know everything you liked and dislike
He heard alll your long rambles about what you enjoyed, what you hated, your favorite food, favorite drink everything and you would never know
Which is the only reason he was so stumped, he knew too much now he didn't know what to get at all so he bought literally everything he thought you would like hoping it would make you happy.
Now you on the other hand already knew what to get him, but luck wasn't really wasn't on your side as you made your way down to a shop in town but some petty thugs tried to rob you but you weren't fazed even in the slightest you just wanted to get back to the ship
But these guys really made it hard for you, they just kept pestering you, and it's not like you could do much because you left your weapon back on the ship
Zoro leaving a store, had spotted you being surrounded by some random men
He dropped the many boxes and bags seemingly appearing behind the men and cutting them down with ease
You smiled at him throwing your arms around his shoulders "my hero!"
Zoro pretended not to be fazed by your words but the small smile said otherwise
Later he showed you the gifts he got you but you sighed leaning on him "oh you're the best gift I could ask for" you said placing a little bow on his head
"So does that mean I can take all this stuff back?"
"No♡"
𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈
Tried to get you a ring.
I'm not kidding, he would be dead set on proposing to you, but when Robin said that'd be to much he dropped that plan, (he still kept the ring....just in case)
I could see him as someone who thinks too much about what to get you
It was very tiring for him so settled for something nice, something he was good at, cooking. Cooking like a little fancy dinner for the two of you
But that plan was also shot down when you trotted into the kitchen dressed in a cute Santa outfit while he was trying to cook
Coming up behind him, he knew you were there BUT he didn't know you were gonna touch him so he did a little when you wrapped your arms around his torso pressing your cheek again his back
He froze in his spot as if he had turned to stone, you peeked around him "Merry Christmas honey" you muttered sliding a box next to him, he could feel his heart rate increase as he heard your voice
Slowly turning to face you he knew he'd be blinded by your beauty but this! As soon as he laid eyes on you it was over
Falling back he kicked the bucket blood gushing from his nose
You only sighed at his antics as you went and got chopper
Upon waking up Sanji looked around "maybe it was just a dream..."
Oh but it wasn't looking to his right he saw a medium sized box on his nightstand
Placing it in his lap he saw a little note on top that read 'Hope you like love you!'
He smiled at the note and set it aside opening the box he was stunned on top there was a heart shaped locket, opening it it was a picture of you and him his smile grew bigger as he looked through the rest of the box, it was filled with memories of you and him mostly different photos
One stood out though, it was a picture of you and him, you were hugging his side and kissing his cheek as his face was beat red
Holding the picture close to his chest he smiled
You really were his one true love.
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮
A/n: I'm so mad I couldn't put this out on Christmas RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhh
#fem reader#one piece x reader#sub one piece#luffy x reader#zoro x reader#black leg sanji#monkey d. luffy#one piece#one piece luffy#roronoa zoro#zoro roronoa x reader#luffy x you#one piece smut#straw hat pirates#fluff fic#fluff headcanons#fluff prompts#one shot#one piece fluff#gn reader#male reader#christmas#happy holidays
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Swallow Your Words
Part 1
Incel!Shigaraki. Quirkless/college seniors AU.
I’m doing this as a series not a one shot because in the process of writing it I got attached to the characters and the plot QnQ this will have a positive character arch for Shiggy. This first part ends on a bit of a climactic spot, but hang in there I’m already writing the next part that will have some spice ♡
tw: HEAVY misogyny; like upsettingly so; I read Reddit threads and instagram comments to get into the headspace of an incel for this; yes it did hurt my brain; that’s all for now I think. Future parts will have heavy smut.
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Okay, so maybe going out on your third date this week with another brand new guy right after your shift at work wasn’t the brightest idea considering you still had abnormal psych homework to finish. You blearily trudged into your campus library, thankfully open 24 hours, and shuffled into the computer lab. Taking out your textbook, you set to work on the writing assignment due in approximately 6 hours. You got this.
As you were furiously typing up your mock evaluation of patient number 3, you heard someone cough. It made you jump, it was nearly 11pm and you could’ve sworn you were in here alone. You looked around the room as calmly as you could and spotted him sitting two rows of computers down, you were facing each other so he caught you looking. Damn it, not him.
Tomura Shigaraki, AKA rich asshole misogynist lives off daddy’s money motherfucker. He caught sight of your decidedly slutty outfit (a tank top push up bra miniskirt combo that never failed to get your dinner covered and a super oversized zip up hoody) and unmistakably doneforadate hair and makeup when you’d walked in, paying him no mind.
-What a bitch, he thought. She probably came here straight from getting fucked over some loser’s coffee table and was so disappointed at how shit he was that she decided maybe she didn’t wanna flunk out senior year and came here to finish her homework.- He rolled his eyes.
He’d had a crush on you since he first saw you freshman year. And he hated himself for it. Just like he hated how soft your hair looked, or how good you smelled sitting at the desk in front of him, or how your eyes sparkled when you laughed at something your friends said. He hated it all. Women were good for nothing cheaters and gold-digging sluts, just like his first stepmother. And the second. And the last. And the current. He’d watched these women sneak around his father after he’d given them everything and it was never enough for them. His father, ever pragmatic, would just get rid of them and find a new one when he finally caught them. Watching this happen over and over again taught him two things. 1) Women are worthless and 2) Women are replaceable. But not you. It didn’t matter how many girls Touya set him up with, he couldn’t get you out of his head. It pissed him off. He should be able to just fuck any bitch and get it out of his system. But he couldn’t. It was torture. And it made him hate you more.
You rolled your eyes, breaking eye contact and he chuckled. You tried your hardest to ignore him, fuck that guy. You could practically hear his internal obnoxious comments from here. He had been in at least one of your classes every semester since freshman year of college. He totally wasn’t stalking you. You had the same major, Forensic Psychology, so you told yourself it made sense you’d be taking similar classes. He’d managed to piss you off for the last four years almost every single day. He and his friend Touya, another trust fund kid that shared your major, would often make crude remarks back and forth to each other during class. Because their fathers donate so much money to the college, the professors can’t say anything without fear of retaliation. You could though, and often did when you couldn’t stand ignoring them any longer. Usually embarrassing them into shutting the fuck up for the day. The blissful peace never lasted long however.
“You get all dressed up like that just for me? I’m touched, but I think I’ll pass. I don’t know where you’ve been.” He sneered, finally deciding to break the silence. You raised an eyebrow at him and took in his relaxed posture. Leaning back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head, shit eating grin splitting his infuriatingly pretty face. You scoffed at him, eyebrow still raised, and went back to doing your homework. “What, no snotty retort? I’m almost offended. Cat got your tongue? Or is that tongue too tired from what it got up to tonight?” He mimed sucking a dick and you sighed deeply. “Oh please, as if I’d get this dressed up just to impress you. All it would take is a T-shirt and jeans anyway, since we both know the last woman you saw in a mini skirt only talked to you cause you paid her.” You snarked back.
He visibly tensed. “I don’t pay whores to spend time with me, so if you’re searching for a summer job keep looking.” You actually laughed. Out loud. “You silly little rich boy, no amount of money is worth stooping low enough to fuck an incel like you.”
Your laugh caught him off guard. It was long and loud and almost musical. It pissed him off. So did everything about you. You were too good at reading people, at reading him. He wanted to listen to you laugh more. Almost as much as he wanted to fuck that stupid beautiful grin off your face. Instead, he just huffed and deflated slightly. “What makes you think I’m an incel? Is it cause I don’t go on 10 dates a week? Not all of us are that desperate, honey.” He threw back at you. Without even looking up, you shot back, “It was only 3, fyi, and don’t call me that. Also, no it’s not that. It’s everything about you. You have never, in 4 years of being unfortunately aware of your existence, ever shown that you hold even a modicum of respect for women. Any woman. And you and your jerk bff do nothing in class but talk over and make sexual comments about the girls sitting around you while making assumptions about their personal lives. God forbid we have a female professor! You dont go on dates because every woman in a 10 mile radius of you knows what a disgusting shitbag you are. You make it exceptionally clear that you don’t want us around other than to occasionally stoke your micro dick while you get off to cartoon porn. Now shut the fuck up and let me finish my homework.” You glanced at the clock, 11:30. Ugh, tomorrow is going to suck.
He seethed. No one spoke to him like that ever. It pissed him off that some dumb slut like you thought you could get away with it. He was going to get even. He was going to find a way to make you his. He was going to be the one to bend you over his coffee table. And his desk. And his car. And anything else he felt like bending you over. He would get you to submit to him. And he would make it painful and humiliating for you, just to prove a point. Let’s see you call him an incel shitbag after that.
He contemplated how he was going to do this for a few minutes. He decided he would start by just playing it cool. Sighing long and loud, he started, “Hey, are you working on the Abnormal or the Physio homework?” He asked, putting effort into making himself sound exasperated. -There is no way this is going to work, he thought.- You raised your brow again, “Abnormal, already did the physio. Why?” You were immediately skeptical. “I missed class yesterday, and this really sucks but I’m stuck on this bullshit.” He wasn’t. “You think you might deign to help me? And let me copy your notes?” He looked at you almost… hopefully. What the fuck? “Uh, are you sure you’d want such a ‘dumb worthless bitch’ to help you with your homework? I’d hate to drop your IQ by breathing the same air as you.” You said flatly, throwing some of his more common insults back in his face. “Oh come on, we both know your GPA is like a 4.2-” “4.5.” You corrected. He sighed in irritation. “Look, will you please just come over here and help me? I’ll even call it tutoring, I’ll pay you.” You regarded him skeptically. Damn it, if you didn’t really really need the cash. “Hmm. Okay, fine. I’ll help you. But only if you promise to leave me alone in class from now on. Stop snapping my bra straps and making gross comments about me to Touya, I mean it. And it’s gonna be 100$ bucks to help you with two classes at midnight the night before the homework is due.”
-Pocket change, he thought.-
-Easy money, you thought.-
That was… shockingly easy. He hadn’t expected you to actually agree to help him. Or to gather your things and gracefully float over to the chair and computer next to his. You pulled up her homework again, continuing to work on it. “So, what did you need help…with…” you trailed off as you looked to his computer to see what he was stuck on. He was watching cartoon porn. On a school computer. He quickly clicked out of it and his homework came into view. Well, you thought, at least he was actually doing his homework. At some point. You gazed at him from the corner of her eye. He really is an incel. He grinned at you almost evilly. Although man, ok, getting caught watching porn on a school computer totally does nothing to refute your incel accusation. But it did make you flush satisfyingly. You held out your hand expectantly. He rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet, handing you a crisp 100$ bill. You gawked at it, “It’s a wonder no one has ever mugged you I swear.” You said, shaking your head. The motion caused your hair to swish prettily, he could smell your shampoo. He pulled his backpack into his lap.
You spent the petter part of the next hour doing your homework together, you “helping” him as you went. He was surprised you actually knew what you were talking about. He was surprised you could retain any information in that wind tunnel you called a skull, even knowing your GPA was as high as it was. You were actually…smart? You didn’t look smart, you looked like every other college whore with dyed hair and winged eyeliner. It made him angrier, for some reason. It made him want to crush you beneath him even more. You on the other hand were surprised that he was able to hold a conversation with you for this long without insulting you. You actually just laughed at one of his jokes. “You know, you’re actually fun to talk to when you’re not constantly putting me down.” You said, smile wide and eyes all sparkly again. Ugh. He hated how it made his stomach flip. “Am I?” He attempted a smile back. “Mhmm. You’re even a little bit funny. JUST a little bit.” You joked back while typing up the last bit of your assignment.
Funny? She thinks I’m funny? And.. ‘fun’ to talk to? Girls didn’t usually think so, even when he wasn’t insulting them. They usually couldn’t get past his face. He had eczema, and even though his father’s very expensive doctors worked hard to keep it under control so it wasn’t angry red and weeping anymore, his skin WAS chronically dry. Even his face and neck, though it was worst around his eyes. The skin there looked stretched and almost flaky, though it wasn’t NEARLY as bad as it had been when he was a child. He had a scar over one of his eyes that started above his eyebrow and fell just above his cheekbone and another scar on his mouth from when he was a kid and couldn’t stop scratching at his face. He looked… deranged maybe? Not pretty. Certainly not pretty, you told yourself over and over while sitting there talking with him like it was a normal thing you did. Certainly not pretty, with his pale shaggy hair and his big eyes that looked almost like shiny rubies this close up and the little beauty mark on his chin. Even his scar made him look… you didn’t know, edgy? Beautiful, a sick twisted part of your mind offered. Oh god no. PLEASE no.
You started packing up your things and getting ready to go. “Well, this wasn’t the worst end to a night I’ve ever had. Thanks for keeping me company, I’ll see you in class in… god, 4 hours?” You smiled at him, getting up from your chair. It was nearly 2:30 in the morning. He laughed a bit, “Ah, yeah. Thank you for helping me finish.” Even HE cringed a bit and that double entendre. “But uh, hey, you live off campus right? Just come crash on my couch, I’ll take you to class after we both get a power nap. That way you don’t have to wake up even earlier just to come back.” He casually suggested way more confidently than he felt. (Now listen, if you’ve never pulled an all nighter right before a 6am class, you might think this is insane. But this… this was like the dove and the olive branch.)
-Thank god, you thought. And he’s really not so bad honestly, maybe you just had to get to know him. Famous last words. -
You practically beamed up at him, now standing at his full height, “That would be so nice actually, thank you!” You paused. “As long as you don’t try to do anything to me in my sleep.” You narrowed your eyes at him. He laughed.
You got to his dorm and your jaw dropped. It wasn’t a dorm. It was a dedicated on campus villa for his family to use when visiting or attending classes. His whole family were alumni of this college it seemed. Apparently Touya’s family had one too, right next door, which is how they’d met as freshman. It was… adorable. Landscaping clearly took care of the outside, the grass was immaculate and the garden in front was lousy with flowers and shrubbery and meticulously kept ivy that climbed latticework around the windows. Above the door was a gold plaque, “In honor of family Shigaraki for their generous donations throughout the history of this campus.” The Shigaraki was the largest thing in the plaque, written in elegant swirling cursive.
“It’s beautiful.”, you said in awe. You’d never imagined a person like him would live in a place that looked like this. How is he so miserable? You wondered. He has money and a beautiful house and his college is payed for in full. He’ll never have to worry about student loan debt or whether he’ll eat or not or his parents medical bills or his siblings needing new clothes and shoes for school. He’ll never have to go on dates just to eat because his whole paycheck goes to his family to make sure they survive until he’s making enough money to support all of them. You just… couldn’t understand. It seemed like he had everything.
He seemed surprised by your compliment of the place. “Oh, thanks. Yeah it’s pretty old now, but the school keeps it in great condition. The past four generations of Shigarakis have lived in this place. I didn’t think much of it at first, just a place to pass out and do homework. But a year ago I went into the attic and found an old picture album my grandmother made while she went here. It made it feel… more important.” He rambled on while he fumbled with the keys in the lock, not sure why he was telling you this. “Ahg, this damn thing always sticks.” He finally unlocked it and ushered you inside.
#shigaraki tomura#tomura#shigaraki#tomura shigaraki#shigaraki smut#shigaraki x y/n#tomura shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x reader
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Unfortunately, I don't have the means to donate this time, (Stupid expensive health issues🙄) but I'd still like to express my gratitude to Bucktommy and this fandom for the occasion.
Not that my life has ever been sunshine and rainbows, but 2024 has been particularly difficult for me. I started the year the sickest I've been for years, then one of my uncles passed away in February. He was 88. He had been slowly succumbing to dementia for quite some time, so almost everyone agreed a cardiac arrest was a blessing in disguise.
I wasn't close with him, but my mother was, and naturally, I had to spend pretty much the entire March accompanying her to all sorts of traditional ceremonies for the dead. All my uncle's children, my cousins, came back from abroad as well. They enjoyed hanging out with me back when I was a toddler, but then I slowly grew up into this weird, moody kid of few words, and we kind of drifted apart from there.
Family reunions were never awkward despite my gloomy existence though, they had their fun aunt who never ran out of things to talk about. To them, my mother's the life of the party and an exemplary woman, who went through tragedies in life but still manages to come out stronger on the other side, who unfortunately had to re-enter the workforce later in life to support her physically ill husband and her mentally ill teenage daughter.
What they don't know, is that while she's a fun aunt, she's not a fun mother. She was dealing with the stress and frustration so well because she always had an outlet at home. Someone she had total ownership over, officialized by a piece of birth certificate. Someone she could do whatever she'd like to, emotionally and physically, because in my culture, it's simply an alternative, maybe outdated method of parenting, not a crime.
I've had time to process my messy relationship with my mother, I've come to (mostly) accept it for what it is. Watching my cousins all rushing over to my mother with open arms to console her, watching my cousins' children playing around, having fun with her, while my existence was barely acknowledged, was actually more triggering than I expected. It acted as a sobering reminding that not only do I have merely a handful of friends since I left church, I in fact don't have any family left either. They're all my mother's family, not mine.
It was probably the most lonely and isolating experience in my life. It's like I was trapped inside of my head, my head that was gradually turning into a bottomless pit of nothingness.
Then Tommy Kinard drove through cross town traffic just to clear the air in person. He expressed how much he wanted to be a part of a family. Then he took his shot and got the boy in the end.
I just felt... understood. Watching Bucktommy's story play out on screen gave me some rare moments of joy and much needed hope. I felt like if Tommy could find happiness later in life, maybe it wasn't too late for me either.
If you've had experience with depression, you'd know how sometimes getting out of bed, brushing your teeth feels like an uphill battle already. Motivation is precious and hard to come by. I was so motivated creatively by Bucktommy and people in the fandom who resonated with the story just like me, that I wrote series of posts analyzing every scene in S7, I learned how to make gifs to illustrate the humor I found in all of us, I figured out how to edit video especially for my vision of a Brad-nado, I even wrote and posted my first fanfic ever.
And I just love how we refuse to give up hope, even after the breakup. We cried, we whined, then we doubled our effort writing fix-it fics, continuing their story on our own terms. Now, we even manage to raise thousands of dollars for charities in 24 hours in the name of love.
Sorry for the wall of text all about myself, I hope I don't come across as a self-absorbed jerk. I always thought I would never make it to 30, it started feeling like a real possibility in March. What happened instead was that my 30th birthday came and go because I was too busy screaming about Buck batting his eyelashes at Tommy when he was receiving a medal.
I'm sitting here, typing this out, looking back at my 2024 at the end of the year, only because Bucktommy happened and I had the pleasure to cross path with you all. I know, it's stupid, it's just a TV show, but I can't really imagine how my life would turn out if I never had Bucktommy, where I would be right, or even if I would still be at all.
So, thank you, for making life worth living for me again.
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Wilmon and 47? 💜
47 is an Omar song! Also drabble? What drabble? I can't stick to a word count to save my life.
Getting Simon alone in the corner of this party had not been his plan under any circumstances, but he also was not complaining. Wilhelm would take literally any opportunity to get his hands on his boyfriend, even if that meant defiling him and risking their reputation in a room full of their peers.
Usually Simon was more reserved in these situations. A playful tease, sure, with that signature grin that drove Wilhelm crazy, but never one to put on a show. He would kiss back for a moment, just enough to set Wilhelm’s pulse racing, and then pull away with a whispered warning about keeping things discreet.
But tonight was different. Wille wasn’t entirely sure why, and frankly, he didn’t care. The way Simon’s outfit hugged him in all the right places wasn’t doing him any favors. The way he’d danced to the music and pulled Wille closer under the neon lights hadn’t eased anything. Every moment, every touch, left Wilhelm a little more undone.
Their lips disconnected with a smack, and Wille could tell just by the look in Simon’s eyes, in the press of his hips, that they were not going to last much longer at this party. Usually they could stick around for a while, babysit their drinks long enough that they blended into the crowd.
It had been a grand total of twenty minutes, and they were already getting ready to leave.
“Let’s go home,” Wille murmured, his lips trailing from Simon’s mouth to his neck, voice low and insistent.
Simon laughed, held him closer. “We just got here,” he teased. And Wille knew it was only teasing, part of the game. Even as he spoke, Simon was inching them closer to the exit. They weren’t fooling anyone, least of all each other, and they were not going to last much longer here. “Don’t you want to stay? Talk to our friends?”
Wilhelm shook his head, pulled Simon even closer if it was even possible. “Your body speaks to me much, much sweeter.”
Simon threw his head back in a laugh, his neck so tantalizingly close. “I guess I should let it talk, then.”
👀
send me a number from my spotify wrapped and I'll write something
#wrapped drabble#'drabble' in quotations because I cannot physically write something that is 100 words lmao#young royals#wilmon
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How did Trevor get the error thingy in his arm? How did it even appear or was he born with it?
Lore drop time, its a long one so ill put it under the break
If anyone already knew it, its slightly different now, bit more expanded on, inclusion of blair, all that good stuff.
Im also making a new tag, trevlore because its funny and also so i can specifically find whatever the hell i say sometimes
Trevor was not born with it, its more like a reflection of his rapidly deteriorating mental and physical health because of some sort of stupid bad illness
Ok i guess he actually was born with it, but it never showed its face until much much later, like a dormant disease
Anyway, he was fine, maybe a little bit weird as a kid, but once he got sick it was like different, like yea he got physically ill but it also really attacked his mental health (paranoia, hallucinations, all that good stuff)
It eventually led to him basically locking himself in his room for days on end because bruh was tweaking the eff out, then got so convinced something was under his skin (probably because there was) that he eventually decided to help along the ailment that was already essentially. Uh. Eating away at his skin on his right arm.
In other words his arm got itchy, he was like yea no bruh theres totally something there, then he fucking peels his arm like a banana 🍌
Then its the error symbol
Why the error symbol though? And why was be born with it?
Well the universe he resides in is, in a way, kind of like a computer. Trevor existence is normal, he looks normal and acts normal, but is like a corrupt file, in its inner code n stuff something fucked up.
Essentially, trevor isnt supposed to exist, but he does and because of that hes acting like a sort of virus of sorts to the universe
And god ok call me cringe, i feel liek a real hypocrite because normally i get annoyed my multiverse stories unless it was like spiderverse or rick and morty (be quiet) but yea this does kinda fall into a multiverse type of idea
Since trevor is fucking up his universe hes also acting as a wormhole of sorts, SOMETIMES like when he touches something with his error arm or just tweaks out because it gets worse, he can quite literally bring parts of other universes into his own
So sometimes he’s walkin by a computer, and itll either just bug the fuck out or act as like a sort of camera into some undecipherable thing (the disease acts electronically so it is technologically leaning i guess idk it doesnt make sense dont look into it)
Even thought it is like a sort of multiverse thing its not like trevor is gonna single handedly make one universe crash into another, feels excessive and over powerful to me, i think if worst comes to worse he just jumble his universe and when he eventually DIES for one reason or another its just left as a weird glitching mess, not worsening or on the verge of collapse
Anyway, the disease is part of why trevor puts up with blair, dont get me wrong they ARE friends but blair is kinda like. Really annoying and hard to confront on certain things, they have issues listening and following peoples boundaries at times. Trevor was actually planning to have a long talk with blair but then he got real sick and suddenly everything else seemed to matter a lot less. Blair does help him, she isnt diabolical damn, but on trevors end its also a lot of receiving a lot of unwanted things (platonic affection, hes not a very “loving” person, often times preferring to be left alone outside of conversations or specifically set aside times to hang out) he just doesnt care enough about because hes busy being paranoid n shit
Specifically about blair, trevor and blair met in college, at that time trevor was 18 and blair was 19, im not gonna lie i dont have specific ages for them currently but idk both in their 20s and 1 year apart. Anyway, blair (he/she/they) is the more talkative one, they partner up in one of their classes and hang out, enjoying each others company a lot. Blair grew up pretty well off, i wouldnt say RICH RICH but yknow. Nice place. Blair would always be planning things and wanting to do stuff with trevor, trevor was mostly just happy to have a friend that seemed to actually give a shit if he was there or not (haha lonely loser). Blair is a nice person, but they do tend to speak over people, and they also can a bit hard to explain boundaries to. They kinda just apply their own personal everythings to everyone else (they love hugs and wouldnt mind receiving a surprise one, that type of stuff). They grew up on a very different path of life from trevor, so it can obviously get a little bit weird on finer levels. Blair is very idealistic to the point they forget to ground themselves in reality, i.e “omg lets get a cat!” When they can barely afford rent as is
Trevor and blair room together in an apartment near their college, trevor did however drop out because he got sick, kept getting recommended therapy for yelling at nothing in class, and also because of that his tanking grades (kinda sad for him but ohhhhh wellllll)
I dont think blair dropped college, but i dont think they went a full 4 years so maybe she just was like “hey im taking a gap year its a gap year promise” and then just stopped taking classes? Or something?? Idk im coming up with this stuff as im writing
Uh ok fast decision time right now, blairs last name is atkin, Blair Atkin. Its pulled from atkinson which came up when i searched white people last names on google. His middle name will be uhhhhh alex, haha their initials are baa. Anyway this means BlairAtkin is the blair tag now
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