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youryanderedaddy · 11 months ago

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tw: female reader, captivity, possessive behavior, non - consensual touching, hinted past stalking, hinted non - con, i keep making fairy tale references kfjhks My ko - fi <3

You actually feel calm now, almost at peace - although you can never be truly peaceful in the forest, you guess this is as close as it can get. You flip through the pages of the book, scanning the fireplace with the corner of your eye. It needs more wood, but it still keeps the cottage nice and warm. You tug at your big fluffy sweater - and think about just how domestic, how cozy this scene would be if you couldn't hear his footsteps creeping up behind you. You clear your throat and clutch the book closer to your stomach, trying to ignore him - hoping he'll go away if you pay him no mind. And just like the last few times, he sticks around like mud.

"Are you reading those fairytales again?" Raven calls out mockingly, the click of his tongue teasing your ear. He grasps your shoulders lightly, trying to take a peek at your book from behind the chair. You try to close it, but his hands quickly find your wrists, holding them in place. Now hyper - aware of his chest pressing against your back, you give in and let him look as his body heat spreads to your neck. "Such a pretty illustration, isn't it?" He hums to himself, a fox - like grin ruining his delicate features. When you don't respond, he just keeps going. "The knight kills the monster and rescues the princess." He reads the caption under the drawing, playing curious. "They live happily ever after." He flips the page. "The end." He mouths, averting his gaze.

You clench your fists and try to count to ten before you say something you will regret. You don't know why or how, but just one look at his face is enough to set you off nowadays. And anger is a losing battle - anger has you laying across his knees with your panties in your mouth, muffling your pained cries he likes to pretend are moans as he paints your butt red. So you shut up and bide your time.

"How sweet." The man chuckles with malice, quickly turning towards you just like a snake would curl around an unsuspecting little mouse. "I guess life really imitates art. Just like you and me." He observes with a self-satisfied smirk, reaching to light his cigarette. You hate when he smokes inside the house - the nicotine fume sticks to the walls for hours and you start choking and coughing, but he shows little concern for your heath; not that it's a huge surpirse to you.

"What do you mean?" You raise one eyebrow, hoping to at least take your mind off the nasty, overwhelming smell. If he sees your unease, he doesn't mention it, choosing to inhale even deeper, with his full chest. "You're the pretty damsel in distress." Raven explains calmly, charcoal eyes sinking into your vision like claws. It makes you feel naked, vulnerable - dissected to your very molecule. "And I am your knight." He lets his sharp teeth reflect in the dim light. "I saved you from those pesky insects who kept sulling you." You cringe at the way his tongue piercing drags against his canines. Track - track. "Aren't you glad I removed those obstactles for ya?" He gives you a crooked, sarcastic smile. "I think your hero deserves a little reward for all the trouble he went through just for you."

You blink away the tears as you are forced to remember it all in one breath. The police sirens - the investigation. The blood on your family's threshold. The used condoms hanging on your door for all neighbours to see, and the thousand messages calling you ugly names for months on end.

"You're no hero." You mumble under your breath, digging your nails deep into your palms - desperate to keep your tongue behind your teeth. But he hears you - he always does, and he just nods in agreement, coming close. Coming to take you.

Raven stands before you, hovering over you with one hand on the ashtray and the other tilting your chin up so you'd have no choice but to look at him and him alone. "Perhaps you're right." He admits, taking a puff off his long cigarette and blowing it in your face right after - simply in love with the way your eyes narrow in frustrated defiance as you wave away the thick smoke. "Perhaps I am not the hero, but the monster. The dragon." He laughs to himself, stubbing out the burning fag. You don't know what it is that he finds so funny, but you wish you knew so you could laugh along instead of crying.

He cages you in against the sofa, causing you to press even harder against the soft backrest. The message is clear - you'd let the house consume you before you let him as much as kiss you.

"It fits the story nicely, don't you think?" The man remarks, playing with a strand of your hair gleefuly just like a child would. You assume he derives some sick pleasure from touching you so casually - from caressing you, petting you, holding you. It's not even sexual, but it always shakes you to your core, and maybe for him that's the best part - where you can't go anywhere, but in his arms.

"Huh?" You break from your thoughts, growing confused. "Your analogy." He explains while still all over you. "It makes sense. I fought for you, and I won you fair and square." His eyes light up with the ferocity of a hunter. "I wanted you so I took you like the greedy bastard I am. I have no regrets - and if that makes me a villain, then so be it. I will burn the world down if it means you'd be all mine." His fist wraps around your loose locks, almost gentle, but not quite. There is something unnatural in his smile - you can't help, but imagine blood dripping from his chin. "But there is something your magic tales get wrong." Raven whispers diabolically, snapping his fingers. Everything goes dark - and his coat slips down on the floor.

"W-what?" You ask, shaking like a leaf - both afraid and deadly curious. You try to sharpen your senses, but you remain blind to his shadow - and the way it moves right between your legs, positioning them around his hips. You feel his manhood prod at your pubic bone, and you heart sinks to your stomach. "The ending." Your captor mutters, pushing you on your back, and you curse the electronic chair when it goes all the way down with little fight. "The moment when the cards are on the table..." He all but tears off the first button of your shirt. "And the princess is all alone with the monster. Face to face - with nowhere to go."

His tongue is hot on your neck - you try to push him off, but he pins down your wrists with feral force, growling like a wild beast. "And this time no one is coming to save her."

#yandere #male yandere #yancore #yandere smut #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader

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correct-hermitcraft-quotes · 2 months ago

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Doc: My pesky neighbour has been harassing me though, like, I was wondering it took forever, you know, for them to age, and he came over and had waxed all my copper blocks.

I was working on the elevator, looking over like "euh, why are they not ageing", its like ugh...

I took revenge though, I am launching charged creepers on an hourly basis over to his base at the moment so we're cool.

(Source: ethoslab HermitCraft S9#2: Story Time)

#A quote #hermitcraft #Docm77

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sirianasims · 7 days ago

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The Don Diaries

The call from Gina is long forgotten by the time Don arrives at the restaurant and sees Dani.

We request a table, only to be temporarily held back by a pesky EA bug. But nothing will stop this date from happening tonight, and the problem is quickly resolved through ruthless application of UI cheats.

However, from the kitchen, a familiar chiselled face is watching.

It's honestly a little tragic. The heartbroken slacker finally got a job, but it's much, much too late.

Kyle's loud crying in the bathroom makes for a slightly awkward start to the date, and Dani really hopes they get a different server.

Don tries to focus on the menu when his phone goes off - it better not be Gina again.

Thanks for the support, JoAnna, but can we maybe get through THEIR FIRST DATE before we think long-term? You and Matteo need to chill, seriously.

Despite the constant distractions from old friends and unhinged exes, the date is going well. Don is mesmerised by Dani's lips while they wait for their food.

But he's determined to keep his cool and take things slow. He'll be the best possible version of himself, prove that he's changed, that he can be the man she deserves.

The food has barely arrived before Dani lays down some ground rules. She's seen him in the past, and if this date is going to lead anywhere, she needs to know Don is serious about it this time.

Thankfully, Don has changed. His fuckboy ways never brought him happiness, and he wants more stability for both himself and Matteo.

The conversation flows more freely after that, jokes, banter and light flirting flying back and forth.

A while later, Kyle is finally done crying in the bathroom.

Dani suggests that maybe this is their cue to leave. Besides, it's getting late and Don's neighbour can't look after Matteo all night.

Their plates are cleared and Don takes care of the bill. It's the moment of truth.

He slowly caresses Dani's cheek, trying to make sure they're on the same page about this, but it seems like he has nothing to worry about.

And then, at long last...

Took you long enough.

There are many other things Don would like to do with Dani tonight, but he needs to get home to Matteo. Instead, he invites Dani to come and stay with them for New Year's Eve.

It'll be worth the wait.

chrono - previous - next

#thedondiaries #fucking finally #this date took five years off my life #please silence your phone don

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aziraphales-library · 2 months ago

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Any recommendations of fics where Crowley and Aziraphale are roommates/neighbours?

Here are some housemates and neighbours fics that I've read and loved...

Safe In Your Arms by AppleSeeds (T)

After moving out of his flat following a fire, Aziraphale moves in with Crowley, who turns out to be very lovely and seems determined to do anything he can to comfort Aziraphale when he finds out about the nightmares he's been having.

What Aziraphale Wants by mozbee (G)

“You could shower at my place, if you like,” Aziraphale says. He’s a step out of the lift before he realizes what he said. He quickly laughs, turning to face Crowley, to dismiss it as fast as it had come out, and sees he’s being stared at. “You mean that?” Crowley asks, an arm out to keep the lift doors from closing. Aziraphale fights off the threatening blush. It won’t do to have Crowley know he’s practically foaming at the mouth to have him spend more time with him. Because Crowley is his friend, his confidante. He can tell him anything. Except Crowley is also devastatingly handsome. --- Aziraphale is just being neighbourly, inviting Crowley over to use his shower while his bathroom is being remodelled. It has nothing to do with the pounding lust that fills him when he thinks of Crowley nude in his home. He's just being nice. Now if these pesky feelings would leave him alone...

Good Neighbours, Good Fences (and Other Misunderstandings) by out_there (E)

The first time Crowley meets his downstairs neighbour, Aziraphale is breaking into his flat. He's not what Crowley imagined in a burglar -- he's fussy, old-fashioned, and surprisingly adorable. Crowley is intrigued, Aziraphale is ready to share a good wine... and possibly more.

District of (un-)Certainty by jamgrl (M)

Aziraphale is a PhD student who needs a roommate so he can continue to afford his house in the U.S. capital of Washington D.C. Luckily, the family he tutors for on the side just happened to find him one! He doesn’t think he will like him much since he is in the states to work on Mr. Dowling’s senate campaign, so he’s probably a terrible person (even if he is good looking). Crowley is pretty independent and doesn’t really have a lot of what you would call “friends”. But he doesn’t mind his new roommate. He would much rather hang out with him than his coworkers, anyways. His roommate’s best friends Anathema and Newt aren’t too bad, either. It’s nice to have some friends. Maybe he likes it in D.C. --- They are millenials! But still British and still old fashioned- just a little twist on our favorite husbands.

Between Comfort And Chaos by anathxmadevice (T)

“And how long have you two been a couple?” “Oh, I—” Aziraphale panics. “Ha, well, that’s a funny… We’re not actually—” “We’re just friends.” Crowley says, their voice clear and calm and lightly amused, either because of or in spite of Aziraphale’s flailing attempts to divert the conversation. “Ah, yes, quite.” Aziraphale says, then takes a sip of his drink just for something to do, instead of focussing on the way Crowley said just friends, and how it causes a painful throb in his chest that he has never fully got used to. His memory can only scrabble at the edge of a time where being just friends with Crowley didn’t feel like a particular form of torture. * Or, Aziraphale has been desperately in love with his best friend and housemate Crowley since they were students, but is too scared to do anything about it.

Won't You be My Neighbor? by ProblematicPitch, Spiro (T)

When Mr. A. Z. Fell moves to the quiet English village of Tadfield, he expects nosy neighbors and inquiries into his eccentric, solitary life. What he doesn't anticipate is Anthony J. Crowley, the surly nuisance / next-door-neighbor, who might very well need a friend as much as he does.

And I'll just drop a quick link to the popular and oft-recommended Or Be Nice, because I know someone will mention it if I don't.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #housemates #flatmates #roommates #neighbours #living together #human au #mod faves #mod d

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yeyinde · 5 months ago

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thank you for tagging me @ivymarquis ! i debated between this, the regency fic (fleshed out), or one of the other Price fics i'm working on (home from college for the summer and seducing hot older neighbour Price whomst you had a crush on since sixteen (aka daddy issues, the playbook), DomPrice, etc), but i think the Soap fic will probably be finished before all of those. so, here is the baby trap piece with Soap.

nothing smutty but this def captures their odd, imbalanced dynamic perfectly, i think:

“And you have no cellphone? No satellite phone?”

“Ye can check it—” he makes a flippant motion toward the glove box in front of you. “Deader than ever.”

You hesitate only briefly. Long enough to level him with a searching look that yields no results (every expression hidden behind a thick, unruly forest of overgrown hair jutting out to his Adam's apple) before you reach for the compartment, gingerly pulling it open, and—

Sometimes, things get overlooked by their surroundings. Swallowed in the vacuum. Blending seamlessly into the muddle, the commotion. Or hidden. Can you spot the mountain lion in this tumble of rock and bush?

This isn't like that.

It sits on top of a manila folder. Sleek black and cold silver. You're not terribly well-versed in guns—the extent of your knowledge stemming mostly from formulaic crime shows aired late at night; CSI, NCIS, Criminal Minds—but you recognise this one instantly. Some sort of handgun. Police issued, you think. It's bigger than you'd expected. Looks heavier, too.

Your heart stutters. The air galloping out of your lungs in a stammering rush.

He makes a noise, soft and nonchalant, as if keeping handguns in the glove box of his old, burnt umbre truck is perfectly normal.

“Fer protection,” he mumbles. You catch the jerk of his chin in your periphery. “Forgot I had it in here. Been usin’ the rifle for huntin’ mostly. Or the shotgun.”

Three guns. You swallow. “Why—” your voice comes out in a brittle whisper. You clear your throat. Pretend it helps, that you don't feel as vulnerable as you sound right now. “Why, um, why do you need three?”

“Not fae around ‘ere, are ye?” He echoes your words from earlier with a wry twist of his mouth, eyes slanting in the sunlight. “Tha’,” he takes his hand off your thigh to jab his finger at the handgun. “Is fer wolverines.” His index finger falls, his thumb juts out. He jerks it over his shoulder. “Tha’ is fer huntin’. The shotgun back home is fer bears.”

You try to move out of the way when his hand falls back to your thigh, but the pain radiating up your leg immobilizes you. There's not much you can do in this situation but endure.

Military. Wounded in action. Three guns. Touchy.

You're not sure what to think. It would be easier if you couldn't.

“What do you hunt?” You ask instead, glancing out the window to the barren landscape rolling out around you. There doesn't seem to be much in the jagged hills, towering mountains.

“Gettin’ hungry? Donnae worry, doe. Go’ tha’ pesky hare I was tryin’ tae shoot on the ledge fer dinner tonight.”

It's not much of a comfort. The idea of being injured—by accident, he claims—to such an extent over a rabbit makes you feel a little sick.

“That's it?”

“I can make a mean steak outta anythin’. Stews fer tougher meat. Fish, too—whitefish, arctic grayling, and lake trout. Learned how tae make a nasty fishfry from the locals in Nahanni Butte. Bannock, too. Got berries ‘round ma cabin. Caribou, Moose. Taste better in tacos or burgers. Mountain goat, Dall’s sheep. Been eatin’ better ‘ere than ah did at home.”

“And you're—just allowed to hunt them?” The website advised of a permit through some special outfit needed to hunt when you requested your pass into the park. Said that only aboriginals were allowed to do so. “You're not—”

“Aye,” he cuts you off with a small nod. “No huntin’ in the park. But. We're not in the park anymore.”

“Where are we?” You ask again, firmer this time.

“I told ye. Nearly home.”

“And where is home?”

The way he sucks his teeth makes you recoil slightly. Wet. Irritated. As if he's tired of this conversation already.

“Close.”

You don't let his flat tone deter you. “Are we—are we still in the Northwest Territories?”

“Thereabouts.”

It's not an answer. It doesn't reassure you in the slightest.

You open your mouth to say so, words curling on your tongue when he jerks his chin toward the handgun, brow furrowed.

“Thought ye wanted tae check on the satellite phone.”

His tone is severe. A growl curdling the ends, pitching it down, down. Displeasure, irritation, blooms in the gnarled petals of witch hazel when he narrows them into slits.

#baby trap anthology #soap x reader: baby trap #wips #wip wednesday #my love for nwt and national parks is almost smothering #but i still managed to throw so many inaccuracies in this fic lmao #and the idea of an auntie and uncle teaching Soap how to fry fish and make bannock had me in absolute stitches lmao

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socheckitout-mikey · 7 months ago

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i really love fright night 2011 so here's some much needed jerry dandridge hc's! i hope you enjoyed these. lemme know what you thought of them! - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

disclaimer: THERE ARE 18+ PARTS IN THIS PIECE SO MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!!! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!!!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Dating Jerry Dandridge (2011) Hc's:

° "Dating" is a very stretched word when it comes to Jerry. Being a vampire makes it impossible for him to love like a human would, because of his dark nature having warped him greatly over the years. It's more probable for him to "possess" you as he views you more like a human pet than an actual partner. After all, he is much stronger, faster and possesses far more superior abilities.

° However, just because he can't love like a human, doesn't mean he won't have the outside world believing he can't. To everyone else you seem like a normal, happy and loved up couple. But truthfully,- behind closed doors -, you're anything but that. Jerry is excellent at deceiving, almost to the point that when you're in public, you seem to forget yourself. Even now he takes pleasure in deceiving you, but truthfully it's more for the necessity of keeping up appearances: Your gullible nature is just an added bonus.

° Jerry most likely had the intention of turning you to replenish his ranks, but he found you more resourceful alive... for now that is.

° For instance, you probably will fall into the role of being a daytime protector of sorts for Jerry. Your job is to ensure that pesky nosed neighbours (particularly teenage brats like Charlie) don't go digging where they shouldn't. You need to take your job seriously, otherwise it puts Jerry at risk; and when Jerry is at risk, he gets extra grouchy.

° But you're good to him - usually -. Now where that at first was out of necessity, currently it is due to some strange culmination of love and fear. Jerry rewards you plentifully in many ways (usually with his boundless sex appeal), but he also knows how to punish you. You long ago stopped attempting to escape him, accepting your fate that you're stuck with Jerry. You know only two outcomes will come from this: Death or Rebirth.

° However he does like to spice things up a bit. He doesn't like you always being a goody-goody.

° Even though Jerry is a cruel creature of the night, and where he is dark and terrifying, there are also good things about him. He can make you feel on top of the world, like you're the only person that matters - so long as you never interfere with his quest to form and expand his tribe of vampires.

° With that I will add that Jerry also does not allow his fledgling vampires to go anywhere near you. Fraternizing with you of any accord is prohibited, because (for now) you are worth more to him alive than dead or immortal. This is solely why you're never allowed in the basement or in the home yourself. In all honesty, Jerry has really grown fond of you. The thought of you dying no longer appeases him. He wants you safe and sound... Well as safe and sound as you can be whilst in his clutches. He does like to have fun with you.

° Following off that point, Jerry is actually extremely protective of you. Anyone dumb enough to mess with you (even mildly) will be dealt with accordingly (and my friend, it gets very messy indeed).

° God forbid if any of his fledgling tribe members are dumb enough to attack you (particularly if they have escaped without his knowledge). They're given the special treatment of being catapulted into the fiery pits of Hell much sooner than he would have originally wanted. But that's what they get for defying his rules.

° We also know already that Jerry is possessive of you. You're his, no one else's. So lets say a clueless person tries to flirt with you - you know they're not going to live much longer. Hell, after Jerry has grown fond of you, he may struggle to understand harmless small talk for genuine romantic interest. Where he can happily dish out all of the flirtatious charm to his female prey, he does not appreciate if someone else showers you in the same treatment. God forbid if you reciprocate it too when he hasn't asked you to. You know, for the means of strategy to bring more people into his immortal club.

° In public, Jerry is very hands on with his PDA. Almost to the point where it can become gross and somewhat sleazy (depending on what role he is playing in the new town or city). It never fails to make you laugh, though as he flirts with you. He makes you feel forever alive.

° One thing is for certain, you never have to fear anyone or anything when Jerry is in your life. The only danger you really need to worry about is him - so you have more than a healthy dose of fear. Not that he would harm you, but Jerry has quite the temper - one that you'd much prefer to steer clear of. So when he's in one of his moods when things aren't going to plan, you stick to another area of the house or tend to the garden out back when the rays of sunshine prohibit him from going outside.

° Your relationship is going to be mainly physical, but that's only because that's how Jerry's able to show his "love" for you. His fondness is shown through sex and there's a lot of it. There's just something about the way you attempt to swat him away, but yet you beg for more shortly after that stirs up something crazy in him. He has to remember to pace himself so he doesn't break you - no matter how tempting the latter is.

° With all of his sleazy charm and physicality, he does have some soft moments. Those are more reserved for special moments or times where you're both alone - safe from the nosy eyes and ears of others. It's not that they're impossible to manifest, but that it usually takes something for them to occur. Examples could be; after a dangerous moment that you both narrowly missed, you have been very good for him for an extended period of time, etc.

° He much prefers to tease you though. He's very good at it, and is awfully witty. He also likes it when you tease him back about the persona he shows the outside world. He likes the banter you share - even for a human you've got some spice to you, and Jerry likes his partner spicy.

° Another thing he likes to do is scare you. Typically in the jump scare fashion. You never know when it'll happen, but it never fails to scare the hell right out of you. He also enjoys chasing you too. There's just something about psychological terror that turns him on endlessly. He has a naturally high prey drive, but attached to that is also a sexual appetite unlike any other. Your specific brand of fear exhibits a scent he's grown both used to and extremely fond of. He never gets bored of it though. That's most likely because he savours it, providing a game of how long he can keep himself from quenching his thirst the traditional way. You're almost too good not to eat.

° Following from that point, it really is true that he doesn't feed from you in a traditional sense. It's hard for him to control himself, but driving his fangs into your flesh, placing his lips on your wounds or simply licking said wounds can turn you. Vampirism is spread through his saliva in open wounds, much like a parasite infecting someone. This makes it hard when he gets your blood pumping or when you have clumsy moments like when you accidentally get cut, etc. He's grown better at fighting the urge - even though your eyes beg him to bite you.

° Instead he settles for blood letting. He pours it right into a crystal glass. It almost amuses you how he devours it, licking the rim of the glass clean before sticking his finger inside the glass to get to those hard to reach places. You don't really get why he does it, but that's just a testament to your mortality and aversion for consuming blood.

° Speaking of your blood, it doesn't disappoint. It's a treat he enjoys savouring as he doesn't get it often - when he isn't being greedy. Bonus points if you were frightened just before he consumed it. He just has to repay the favour… over and over again. Fear is the greatest flavour to a vampire.

° After he tends to any of your wounds. If he has taken too much, then there's that softer part of him that will take care of you. Your diet is rich in iron and other vitamins that help keep your blood and health strong. Where this first came from a necessity to keep you alive, he now does so out of fondness. You may not understand it much, protesting that you can take care of yourself, Jerry won't hear of it. It's his ritual after all, one of the only moments where he can show a softer part of him to you. To convey that in his strange way he might actually love you.

° Jerry is four hundred years old. He knows many things and if you're willing, he passes his knowledge onto you. He's a bored immortal though, so he likes to mess with you, but over time you become less gullible. In his eyes, if you wanted to know more about these things then you should have come into his life when he wasn't bored and so twisted. He knows though that one day he'll mellow out again and by that time, you'll be immortal; so he has all the time in the world to teach you things.

° I think with you around, Jerry is more likely to actually sleep throughout the day. You find it strange that he heads to the basement, but you just think he has a coffin down there since there's no bed upstairs. That is until you realise he sleeps in the literal ground when he rises with dirt covering him head to toe.

° There is absolutely no digging your pesky, mortal nose in the basement or in his private room of his tribes knowledge. He only let's you see the latter when he trusts you enough not to run and tell the entire world. The former isn't until he's ready to turn you into a vampire. So in this case, curiosity would definitely kill the cat - the cat being you. It's best to remain in your jurisdiction.

° If he finds you digging, he considers that meddling and he's not privy to nosy people. If you haven't angered him enough, then he won't kill you, but he may punish you. Especially if you rise up against him with the likes of Charlie...

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more!

requests: open!

#jerrrydandridge #jerry dandridge #jerry dandridge headcanons #jerry dandridge imagines #jerry dandridge x reader #fright night 2011 #fright night 2011 headcanons #fright night 2011 imagines #fright night 2011 jerry dandridge #fright night 2011 jerry dandridge headcanons #fright night 2011 jerry dandridge imagines #fright night 2011 jerry dandridge x reader #fright night jerry dandridge #fright night jerry dandridge headcanons #fright night jerry dandridge imagines #fright night jerry dandridge x reader #i hope you enjoyed these!

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delcakoo · 2 years ago

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i choose you! ˚ᘒ ˖˚𓈒 n.rk

SUMMARY ! at last, your journey begins on route 1 with your first pokemon by your side.. and your pesky neighbor who somehow angers a flock of pidgeys enough to chase the both of you back to where you started. but don’t worry, riki will be there to protect you.. probably!

PAIRING ! pokemontrainer!niki x gn!reader

WC ! 3.7k

GENRE ! pokemon au (dont need to know that much to understand) frenemies to lovers, fluff <3

WARNINGS ! riki’s nickname for you is dummy, mentions of scraped knews/elbows, bandaged wounds, blood, being attacked by birds

a/n: this has been in my drafts since january cuz i only wrote it for the pokemon nostalgia and im kinda iffy abt it.. i tried to clean it up tho so hope u all enjoy!

ding dong! ding dong! dingdongdingdongdingdongdingdo—

you practically yank your front door off the wall in vexation, the ringing in your ears dissipating the moment your annoying neighbour comes into view. he has a cheeky grin plastered across his pale face as his finger drops from your doorbell, shoving into his short’s pockets mischievously.

he tilts his head, and his black wavy hair bounces along animatedly. “ready to go, dummy?”

you’ve had the misfortune (or fortune) of being glued to nishimura riki’s side since birth.

you were the same age, yet it felt more like you were babysitting than hanging out with a friend during most of the time spent with him. your neighbor was the definition of a dork; an impulsive idiot with no sense of limits or rules that you’d constantly have to take control of before he did something stupid (though, there was no harm in letting it happen and relishing in the entertainment every so often). in fact, you could dare him to lick the sidewalk in exchange for a single oran berry, and he’d do it without hesitation.

reckless or not, you couldn’t deny your vast soft spot for the raven haired boy, considering he’s grown up with you and all.

but today, riki’s grin and visible excitement shockingly held a valid reason.

“hell yeah,” you reply with a smirk, gripping your backpack tighter once you descend down the front porch.

riki’s arm finds its way around your shoulder, smile growing as he stares down at you. “can you believe it, y/n? today’s really the day.”

you chuckle and nod. “yup, all those years at the academy will finally pay off.”

at least, it would for you; it was a miracle riki even graduated, noting that he still didn’t even know what would beat a dark type pokemon if one were to jump in front of him now.

“wonder what type of pokemon our starters will be,” he ponders. “i hope mine’s a dragon!”

“eh.. i think a bug type suits you better.”

in reply, he violently pinches your arm. “ay, ‘bet you’ll get a poison type with that attitude.”

while the bantering continues, the sliding door to your town’s lab eventually parts for the both of you. the high ceiling building was filled with all sorts of strange machines and metal tubes, and it was rather quiet besides the occasional sounds of pokemon chirping and playing in the distance. you vageuly remember being here once before on a field trip, as well as the memory of riki almost releasing a wild pokemon from it’s enclosure and getting your whole academy banned.

ah, good times.

as you trail inside, you feel something enclosed around your hand and carefully lace through your fingers. you glance down to investigate, brows furrowing at the sight of riki’s hand clasping yours tightly.

“..what are you doing?” you mutter with warm cheeks.

he shrugs. “this is a big moment, so i felt like holding your hand.” riki didn’t seem phased nor flustered at all, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. it wasn’t too surprising for him to initiate physical touch, yet for whatever reason something as simple as hand holding was making a strange feeling erupt in your stomach.

though before you could question him further, a feeble voice echoed blaringly through the laboratory. “my my, what do we have here?”

and in walks who you remember as professor bonsai, icy white lab coat nearly touching the ground as her frail fingers reach up to adjust her green glasses. you recall the old woman visiting the academy once or twice, and it was easy to tell she knew a whole lot more about pokemon than any of your teachers or trainers just by how she spoke of them.

to his disappointment, you quickly rip your hand from your neighbour’s, bowing politely. “professor bonsai, it’s an honor!” you exclaim with enthusiasm. riki quickly bows too, following you closely.

the woman’s lips raise, scanning you up and down. “ah, i remember you. y/n, correct?” you quickly nod, smiling. when the professor looks over to riki, her welcoming expression drops, wrinkles deepening unpleasantly. “and you..”

riki’s eyes widened, scratching his neck nervously. he seems to have made a bad first impression with the woman in the past, and you couldn’t say you were surprised in the slightest. “uh, hi again.. professor.”

“lord arceus.. ” she mumbles disapprovingly before clearing her throat. “alright then, both of you this way.”

with that, the old lady turns, walking away and leaving you and riki to exchange worried glances.

“she definitely hates me,” riki whispers as you follow her through the lab.

you raise a judging brow, pinching his side. “probably for good reason. i bet you played some stupid prank on her at the academy or something.”

comically, his eyes widen. “how’d you know?”

as you open your mouth to reply with ‘because you’re riki’, the professor stops, gesturing to a small table under a bright light behind her.

“here we are, i assume you’ve already had the lecture of what it means to have your first pokemon?”

you nod, while riki watches dumbly. “yes professor.”

“then, you may pick one,” she states.

instantly, you freeze up.

there lay three shining red pokeballs, each in their own little capsules on display to the two of you.

that’s when it hit you that this was fully happening. the moment you’ve been waiting for since your first day at the academy; the day you’d get your first pokemon — your partner for life.

you glance over at riki.

when it came to your childhood friend, it felt like you already had a partner for life, as cheesy as it sounded.

you shake your head, riki would tease the hell out of me if i said that out loud.

while you were in deep thought, riki had already walked closer to the three mystery pokeballs, ever so carefully grabbing the middle one.

he glances over to the professor, who’s studying his actions sternly. “do i just- can i..?”

“go ahead,” she deadpans.

you watch in awe as riki throws the pokeball in front of him, red light flowing out of it before a small, turtle like creature with a single sapling coming out of its head plops onto the ground. it was mostly a pale green with a hint of yellow on it’s chin and feet, and a small brown shell adorned it’s smooth back.

“oh my god, it’s so cute,” you squeak in awe, rushing over to pet the pokemon’s shell. riki grins, quickly kneeling next to you to do the same. you fail to notice how every so often, his gaze bounces over to thoroughly take in your beaming expression rather than the little creature before him.

“that one is turtwig,” professor bonsai informs. “he’s a grass type, and the shell on his back is made from soil, which hardens when he drinks water.”

when riki scratches under turtwig’s neck, the creature chirps in delight, leaning into his touch more than yours. “guess i’ll have to buy lots of water,” riki declares, “i’ll choose him.”

without another moment of hesitation, he picks up the small pokemon, holding it in his arms happily. turtwig wiggles around, licking riki’s fingers and making the boy giggle cutely.

you gaze at them in desire, impatience rushing through you. riki observes as you pace over to the remaining two pokeballs, hesitantly taking the left one. the ball feels stable in your grasp, so shiny that you could make out your reflection reflecting onto the red lid. “pick a good one, dummy,” he cheers you on cheekily.

you roll your eyes in fake annoyance, still smirking as you gently throw the ball before you. rather unceremoniously, a small blue penguin flops out of the ball, face planting right onto the hard floor with an ugly chirp.

professor bonsai sighs, and riki bursts into a mean cackle. meanwhile you gasp, rushing over to help the pokemon up and into your embrace. “poor thing, are you okay? i’m sorry, i must’ve thrown it too hard.”

in response, the penguin puffs out its chest stubbornly, yet its expression screams that it’s embarrassed. the creature’s tiny yellow beak was slightly in a pout, and it took everything in you to not boop it fondly.

professor bonsai rubs her forehead. “that’s piplup, her species is rather clumsy yet very prideful. she has a hard time accepting food from humans and bonding with trainers that try to get close to her — and as you can see, she puffs out her chest whenever she falls down, which is quite often due to her poor walking abilities.”

contrary to the woman’s words, piplup seemed to enjoy your presence, peering up at you in satisfaction as you rubbed her tummy. however, when riki walks over to pet her as well, there was nothing to prepare him for when she decides to rudely peck his hand.

riki jumps back, nearly dropping turtwig. “ow!” he whines, and you swear you see the professor snicker proudly in the background.

“that’s what you get for laughing at her,” you declare, sticking your tongue out teasingly. piplup, who was now completely relaxed in your hold, sticks her small tongue out as well, making you burst into laughter. “if it’s okay, i’ll gladly take her, professor.”

she nods, nudging her glasses up with the tip of her finger. “very well then. do you both know where to go from here?”

“yeah,” “no,” you and riki blurt in sync.

unsurprised, you roll your eyes. “don’t worry, i have him under control.” with piplup sitting carefully on your shoulder, you grab riki’s forearm, quickly leading him out. “thank you professor, we’ll be sure to repay you!”

———

“i wanna be the very best, that no one ever was! dun dun du-dun, to catch them is my real test, to train th—ow!” riki pauses his serenading, cradling the arm that you’d pinched rudely.

“shut up, i’m trying to read this useless piece of shit,” you bark. “seriously who drew this thing? even you could make a better map than this!”

it’s quiet for a moment as the four of you continue wandering to who knows where, piplup fast asleep on your shoulder while riki and turtwig searched around cluelessly. there were freakishly large trees surrounding every mile of land, and lots of patches with wild grass that you both made sure to steer clear of; the last thing you needed was to fight wild pokemon before you could even buy pokeballs at the next town.

originally, you suspected that going from the lab to route one would be a piece of cake, but clearly not everything could go perfect in a day. unless you were reading it wrong (which you probably were), your map sent you in repetitive circles — and of course, the boy next to you didn’t provide much support.

abruptly, turtwig lets out a small chirp of his name minutes later, gesturing backwards with a prompt nod. riki follows his pokemon’s guide, eyes widening a fraction. “hey dummy, we’re looking for route one.. right?” he suddenly inquires, tapping your shoulder.

you roll your eyes, “yes, i told you that like an hour ago—“ you finally look up from your map and follow the boy’s gaze, jaw hanging off your face when you see a giant, obnoxious white sign reading ‘route 1’ on it.

you feel your eye twitch in annoyance. you were supposed to be on map duty while he kept an eye out for the destinations you read off. “you’ve got to be kidding me! riki, you were supposed to be looking for that humongous thing right in the middle of the forest for the past hour, are you blind?”

“i don’t know, turtwig didn’t see it either! i was just.. excited,” he defends.

how on earth am i supposed to survive with this idiot? you huff, folding up the map and throwing it into your backpack’s side pocket. next to you, riki has a small, discouraged pout on his lips, walking with his head slightly down.

his posture makes your eyes soften, guilt rushing through you as you reach up to pat his shoulder gently. “it’s okay, ki. sorry for yelling,” you apologise quietly.

riki kicks a rock into the air out of impulse, and you watch as it rockets all the way into a near patch of grass with no mercy. “nah, i deserved it anyway.”

then, an angry squak rips from the grass in front of you, right where riki had booted that stone.

you grip his shoulder in concentration, patting piplup awake with your other hand. “riki..”

“no y/n, seriously,” he insists, “i really do need to start focusing. we’ve only just left and..”

while he blabbers, you’re busy witnessing a raging flock of pidgeys fly up from the tall grass, furiously glaring down at the two of you.

“riki!” you holler, yanking him by his backpack. piplup is chirping frantically, holding on tightly as you grab riki’s hand and pull him behind while you sprint for your life.

the wavy haired boy has barely processed anything; nearly tripping on his own sneakers. when he looks back and realises the situation, riki’s eyes double in size comically. one pidgey hurls a small whirlwind right at him, and he narrowly dodges out of the way milliseconds prior with the help of turtwig’s warning chirp. “holy shit! what the hell do those ugly pigeons want!?”

“that rock you kicked must’ve hit one of them!” you scream your reply, anxiously feeling the birds getting closer. they were all scowling aggressively, clearly not up to discuss or show mercy.

just as you prepare to speed up even more, you feel the warmth of your neighbour’s hand get pulled away as a strong, angry gust yanks you away and down to the ground, piplup rolling off your back in the process and leaving riki screeching to a halt. your elbows and knees burn from scraping against the dirt, and the spinning in your head emits a groan from your lips.

nonetheless, you turn yourself onto your back in determination, sitting up on your palms again achingly. “get out of here!” you order riki, “me and piplup can deal with it.” the blue penguin chirps in agreement as she gets up herself, stretching her tiny arms and puffing up her chest again in an attempt of intimidation.

the pidgeys have almost caught up to the both of you, yet riki refrained from standing down; instead rushing to stand in front of you defensively. “no y/n, i have to do something helpful today,” he snaps. “turtwig, use razor leaf!”

riki spoke confidently as if he’s done this a million times before, yet it wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that this encounter was both of your first ever real battles.

your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets at his command. “what— but— riki no! grass types are unaffective against flying types, we learned this in—“

it was too late — turtwig had already jumped in front of you in obedience to his owner, throwing an attack at the brown creatures with an angry howl.

but just as you’d explained, the normally sharp leaves had barely any effect on the pidgeys, only infuriating them further as they grouped together to summon another giant whirlwind at you.

right as the tornado spins towards you, you feel riki rush over and wrap his body around you protectively, shielding you for whatever’s to come. his arms felt surprisingly sturdy and warm, opposing the powerful body of wind firing your way.

at the same time, a new voice breaks the silence of your accepted defeat. “watch out, you two!”

you feel riki squeeze you tighter just before everything turns black.

———

it takes you a couple tries until your eyes fully open. the peaceful silence keeps you calm as you slowly but surely wake up, taking in the white hospital room accompanied with a quiet beep of a monitor next to you.

at your awakening, piplup coos in greeting from the pillow beside you. “hey cutie,” you greet with a smile, patting your pokemon’s head affectionately.

“oh, thought you were talking to me.”

you quickly turn over to your other side to see a dishevelled riki in a bed of his own, raven hair sticking up in all directions and a blue hospital gown adorning his figure. he has a couple bandages wrapped around his arms, and your chest tightens when you see slight hints of blood seeping through then.

at his words, you sigh. it amazed you how your neighbour managed to joke around even in a situation like this. “how’re you feeling?” you ask with worry.

riki looks away, staring up at the white ceiling emotionlessly. “useless, stupid, a failure.” you frown further. “besides that, just peachy.”

“it was just a mistake—“

“i’ve made enough of those, don’t you think?” he snaps, now completely turned on his other side to avoid eye contact. “and that time it wasn’t just another fuck up, y/n. you could’ve got hurt.”

your brows furrow, mind flashing back to how hard riki tried to protect you throughout the entire attack, no matter if he was endangered in the process. “and what about you, ki? sure, you messed up, but instead of running away like some people would, you tried your hardest to fix it and take responsibility.” the boy remains motionless, breathing slowly against his white pillow. “even when those pidgey’s nearly swept us off into a damn tornado, you still tried to protect me instead of yourself for some stupid reason.”

he scoffs. “c’mon y/n, you know damn well what that reason is.”

“what? no i d—“

“i care about you, like, a lot. i fucking like you, dummy.” at last, riki sits back up to face you, casually smoothing his hair down as if he’d just commented on the weather or what he had for breakfast. the boy scoffs as you freeze, rendered speechless with your lips parted dumbly. “geez, you’re acting like this is new information,” he deadpans.

in his head, you’d always known of his little-not-so-little crush, but just decided to stay quiet in hopes of not breaking his heart — which he secretly appreciated, even if it was the complete wrong approach to take.

meanwhile, you were spiralling. riki, as in nishimura riki — your idiotic neighbour, lifelong childhood friend, the boy who didn’t know that grass pokemon are useless against flying ones — liked you?

suddenly, you feel a demanding peck on your arm, which happens to be piplup sending you a ‘stop sitting there uselessly before something flies into your mouth’ glare.

you gulp, making hesitant eye contact with him. “i- i really didn’t know, how- when?” you exclaim desperately.

before your answers could be retrieved, the hospital room’s door is pulled open, revealing a handsome young male with jet black hair and sunglasses. a varsity jacket covers his built figure, along with a navy backpack thrown over his left shoulder. his features and demeanour were all extremely sharp and intimidating, which you suppose matches the charmeleon that follows close behind him.

the boy removes his eyewear, surveying you up and down before doing the same to riki and releasing an amused chuckle. “finally. you newbies were out all night.”

riki grunts. “who are you?”

“call me jay, the one who saved your asses.” he explains, leaning up against the wall with crossed arms. “which reminds me, you little dorks owe me big time. took me and my buddy here lot’s of energy turning those pidgeys into dinner.” his tone was too difficult to read to assume he was kidding around, no matter how aggressively charmeleon growled in agreement.

you and riki shared a disbelieving look while jay lets out a yawn, completely unaffected by your lack of response. “y’know, i wouldn’t mind a cash reward too.”

“sorry for the trouble, and thank you,” you gulp. “i had some in my bag i think, you can—“

another round of laughter cuts you off. “i’m playing with you guys, it’s all good. how about you repay me by accepting the poor guy’s confession? i heard there’s a great first date spot up in sandgem town.” riki’s eyes widen at that, an embarrassing tint of red reaching his ears at the idea of the older male listening in on the past few minutes.

relievingly, a doctor shows up moments later. “sir, i’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to check on these patients in a minute.”

before his fortunate departure, jay sends one more glance between the both of you, winking at riki and leaving a teasing salute behind.

it was awkwardly silent once he was gone.

until once again, piplup delivers a gentle but demanding peck to your arm, snapping you out of your daze. you swallow in determination, attempting to build your confidence as you sit further up in bed. “riki, i—“

“it’s okay,” the male swiftly intervenes, “you don’t have to say anything, i already know you don’t—“

“riki!”

he flinches slightly at your raise in volume, sending you a bewildered glare. “what?!”

“geez, i like you too, idiot.” you get a blank stare in response for a good minute, which only comes to an end once a proud, approving chirp from piplup snaps him out of it. riki swallows, clearly not prepared for such an outcome judging by his hands that fidget with each other endearingly.

“oh,” he replies uselessly, ignoring the headbutt turtwig punishes him with moments after.

of course that was all he had to say.

you roll your eyes, hopping off your bed to begin searching through your backpack. it’d be better to simply change the subject if he’s going to react like this, isn’t it?

“jay mentioned something about sandgem being the next town, and that only means one thing. we’re all the way back in twinleaf. so i guess we’ll have to—“ when you look up from the map, you freeze at the view of riki standing in front of you, holding a look in his eye that differs from any one that he’s given you previously. he reaches for the map and places it gently on the bed, taking another step closer to your figure.

your breath immediately hitches. despite the messiest bed-head imaginable, bloody bandages, and his outfit being nothing but an unappealing hospital gown, your best friend never failed to look good, and it was about time you pointed it out. “y/n, do you mean it?”

you didn’t need to ask to understand what he meant. “yeah.. do you?”

before you knew it, your jaw was being cupped ever so softly by his palm, and when you didn’t reject his touch, riki leaned down to connect his lips with yours. it wasn’t rushed or frantic — no, your reckless best friend managed to kiss you so gently, you think he’s imagining you poof-ing into the thin air if he moved any rougher. his other hand attempts to bring you closer by the waist, but the action only results in a pained hiss due to the bandage-clad injuries decorating his skin.

pulling away reluctantly, you reach up to squeeze his shoulder while desperately attempting to hide your giddy smile. “y’know, i always imagined you’d be a messy kisser.”

riki smirks. “i can be if you want me to, dummy.”

at the sound of his nickname that you’ve annoyingly got accustomed to, you pout. “you’re really still gonna call me that?”

his lips press against yours once more, effectively shooing your pout away. “of course, you think being your boyfriend would make me change or something?”

huffing, you reach down to put the map back into your backpack, accepting defeat. “whatever, we should get out of here before the doctors come.”

“okay.. wait,” riki’s eyes brighten mischievously, immediately sending a worried expression to your face. “so.. you’ve imagined kissing me?”

shit.

“…piplup, use water gun.”

if you enjoyed, reblogs + feedback are always appreciated n’ motivating!

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seat-safety-switch · 9 months ago

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I had a job interview at the zoo the other day. Now, don't get me wrong. I have enough animals at home, from packrats stuck in my wiring harnesses to my former neighbour's gang of feral chinchillas. In this case, doing my duty to society would involve some light landscaping, which means I would get to drive the little Kubota yard cars they had.

Ever since I was a kid, I was transfixed on visits to the zoo by these yard cars. You could tell me that we're taking a baby giraffe home, and I would not care. Hearing the utilitarian, hay-choked burble of a repurposed Club Car was enough to make me happy for the rest of the day. That and ice cream, of course. When I needed some extra spending money, this memory brought me back to the zoo. Also, their new "get paid cash under the table if you're not a snitch" employment policy, enacted since the last director got caught trying to flog excess gorillas on eBay.

I would like to say that the interview went well, but that's not really my task to judge. We talked for awhile about my basic proficiency with shovels (good,) rakes (adequate,) spades (poor,) and trowels (borderline) and about my availability (slutty, but not for free.) Then it was time for them to evaluate how I handled myself around an internal-combustion engine. Safety is paramount at the zoo: with all those kids around, accidentally backing over one of them while trying to rip a fat skid on the Gator 6x6 would look bad in the papers. Luckily for them, safety is my middle name.

You can imagine that it was a big surprise to me that I not only did not get the job, but that a nice process server arrived to give me a restraining order. In my defence, I figured that it would be a bit "out there" to jump a hedge, and thought twice about it. Ultimately, though, I had to show I was management material by demonstrating how quickly I can get the job done. Cost optimization is the only way that they would ever give me the keys to the really nice, bossman-only, ultra-luxe long-wheelbase EZGO for driving VIPs around. I hear it's got a turbo, all the better for outrunning those pesky investigative journalists and their pro-gorilla bias.

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insomniac4000 · 15 days ago

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15 - Chris but fiends with george and staying with him, can’t sleep for whatever reason so sits in kitchen so george isn’t disturbed

Can’t sleep either?

This was meant to be a fresh start, it seemed so exciting, so full of promise when when you made the decision to end your dead end relationship, leave your awful job and up and move to London. When your friend George had first suggested it you felt sparks of excitement, this was just what you needed. Your mind filled with dozens of scenarios, getting a high paying job, going to parties, meeting people. moving into a great apartment. As always however, life found of way of humbling you.

George was an old school friend of yours, you two were neighbours and were pretty close, when he moved to London you missed his presence a lot. When he discovered your life was falling apart it was him who tried to convince you to move and start anew. You weren't regretting your move, you had to end your relationship with a guy who put his needs before your own, to the point you were working two jobs you hated just to pay bills. It was a life you had to get away from but your fresh start had stalled.

You had been in London now for over a month now but you were still without a job and as such you had to move out of your air bnb and were currently sleeping on George's floor, a far cry from the new you that you had imagined.

Sleep was becoming a problem, George had tried to make things as comfortable as possible for you and had even offered his bed but you politely declined. You tossed and turned on the air mattress but after two hours no sleep was coming. You didn't want to keep disturbing George so instead padded into the living room, you went to the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of water sighing as you made your way back to the sofa, flopping your body weight onto it.

"Can't sleep either?" A voice called out which startled you a little and you jumped. "Sorry I didn't mean to scare you." The voice spoke again and as your eyes adjusted you finally recognised the small frame of Chris coming into view. Chris Michael Dixon, one of the few bright sparks of these truly drab times you were in.

"It's okay. Yeah I can't sleep, what are you doing up?"

"Those pesky intrusive thoughts," Chris replied sighing a little, you nodded a little. Chris had also been through a break up which had snapped his heart in half. He moved in with George after this and the pair of you would often joke George was collecting strays as he went along and wondered who the next one would be.

"Same. I even tried reading a book but even Thrills, Skills and Mole Hills couldn't knock me out," you told Chris with a small smirk on your face.

"Fuck sake. I was going to say you can talk to me but after that put down I don't think I want to,"

"Oh please. It might help, feel free to bitch to me too." You looked at Chris, admiring how his blue eyes were glistening still in the dark.

"I have a big video shoot tomorrow, I'm probably over thinking it as I always do."

"Downside to being a perfectionist I guess, it always comes out amazing though Chris. The worry shows you care. I wish I could find something I care about that much. I've spent my whole life pleasing other people and now I'm supposedly out on my own I'm still making a mess of it and now relying on George," you sighed taking a sip of water. A warm hand found it's way to your knee, you looked to see Chris staring at you intensely, a very small smile on her lips.

"I think you're really brave. Starting again is really scary and no one thinks it's easy. I'm just a kid who got lucky but you're really working hard to change things, that's admirable."

Your glaze flicked between Chris's mouth for a moment before you looked back at his eyes and nodded. He always had a way of making you feel better.

"Thanks Chris."

"Any time. Same time tomorrow?" He joked standing up from the sofa as he walked back to his room. He got to the door and paused, turning to you again.

"If you get sick of George's snoring, my door's always open for you."

#chrismd #chris dixon #three word prompt

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slyvieselkie · 10 months ago

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Reverse Comfort - Bakugo Katsuki

They say patience is a virtue, and it really is true. That's why everyone loves you and wonder why you chose to marry him. Because you were the personification of calm water, and Katsuki represented his quirk to perfection. You're tolerant, graceful, and there's always a peaceful smile on your smile despite the situation. And your husband since his youth has been seen with a snarl more than smiles, people have heard his shouting more than laughter, and have met glaring eyes more than collected ones.

His colleagues from high school squint seeing the two of you together, ignoring the way Katsuki's barking at them while you're laughing softly. They have so many questions. Like what kind of big bang phenomenon started this, and also what the hell was your household like? Because the neighbours of the Bakugo household don't really have any noise complaints, but then again the closest neighbour is a ten minute walk.

The high school reunion is held in a small function room and while Katsuki is screaming his head at the pesky things around him, the girls huddle around you. You blink and smile when they ask how you tame Katsuki. Patience, you respond, with time and kindness.

Then you giggle, "Besides, Katsuki knows that happy wife means happy life. I am not above kicking him out of the house for his rudeness."

They slowly nod and turn to their friend who was currently threatening to blow this whole place up...still don't see it.

But that's because its not something explainable, and Katsuki has said he has no intention of letting outsiders into your relationship. So you allow them to ponder while you think about it, the times when Katsuki has truly gotten angry. You snort hearing the group cry his name in panic, when is your man not angry?

The last one had been quite recently. Katsuki had been contentedly sleeping with you hidden in his arms, when he got a phone call. The man jumped out of bed prepared for a crisis emergency, only to hear that there was a management problem that only he could fix. Growling he barked at the other person to get lost, you giggle hearing your husband complain about having to go to work early. You get up to make him breakfast, but the man stops you with a frown and kiss.

"Go back to sleep, why the hell would you wake up?"

You try to resist but Katsuki rolled you up with the blanket like a sushi and smirk, "Yum."

So he leaves without any breakfast and no goodbye kiss meaning he's grumpy and even more prone to aggression. But that's not your problem until tonight, so you let him take it out on the employee.

However, that's not the only problem. Kirishima and Kaminari rushes into his office without knocking and he growls at them, only to freeze seeing the thing on their phones. A bunch of gossip articles painting a story of Katsuki cheating on you with some heiress he had been hired to protect a few days ago, the photos showing them walking down a narrow alleyway in masks and sunglasses. Kirishima scrolls and the man is raging because of course the photographers have a photo of the heiress throwing herself onto him. What they don't have is the after photo of Bakugo almost ripping her hair out.

He's silently fuming, wondering how to get revenge on those damned paparazis and the heiress' family. Then his red eyes zone in onto Kirishima because the one who was actually meant to be guarding her with him, except he had gotten injured at a prior mission so it was transferred to Katsuki.

"I'm sorry!", the hero's pleading for his life and Kaminari's next to him, "He didn't know this was going to happen! Kirishima's also a victim in this!"

Hearing 'victim' makes Katsuki deflate because there's only one true victim, and it's you.

So he pulls his phone out to call you, "Emergency, emergency!", and Katsuki's screaming as he jumps off the building to help a bunch of useless things to catch a villain.

The world tests him further with how the villain uses his camouflaging to hide. Usually he would love a game of hide and seek, ending it by covering the villain in explosions, however he has bigger problems to worry about. So he's running around the city, wondering if this is his villain origin story.

Unlike your husband whose about to explode, you were cruising about at home. After having heard of the small thing with the heiress, you were wondering when Katsuki would call you only to hear that he was caught up with a villain. Knowing that he'd be pissed enough to scare the devil, you went around cleaning since Katsuki loves nothing more than a clean, fresh home.

About evening while he's drowned in paperwork, you start making dinner. You learnt pretty fast into the relationship that when Katsuki is angry, he wants something else to be angry about. Hence his love of spicy food, so spicy one could cry at the waft of it. So you hum and add bags of chilli into the mapo tofu, tom yum, and curry.

Just as you've finished setting up the table, the door opens and your heroic husband walks in like he's the grim reaper.

"Would you like-", "Food!", he barked and storms to sit down at the table.

It would've been rude, and it was rude...if it hadn't been your husband. Because Katsuki would kill himself before he disrespects you, and he's told you before to scorch his ass if you feel that way. You don't because you understand that's just how he communicates after a frustrating day at work. He lets it out with a blast and burns out like a phoenix, only to return more steady until it happens again. Whether it was a good way or not, you've never found it a problem.

So the two of you start eating, Katsuki crying from his special dishes and he screams about how spicy it is before chugging water and milk. The actions are repeated until every last piece of food is devoured and he stomps up the stairs to the bathroom.

By the time you've finished cleaning up and have moved to the living room for the nightly TV session, Katsuki comes down fresh like spring. And you can tell he's burnt all of his anger, leaving behind your cuddly bear.

The man finds comfort in your arms and the crook of your neck, "...Nothing happened", he whispered and you hum stroking his hair, "I know."

His grip tightens and you feel like a python's prey, "That goddam-", "Katsuki", you start laying kisses all over his face, "I don't want to hear anything about her, unless its karma. I know you, and you should know me."

Your roles reverse as Katsuki pulls you into his lap and move your head to his chest, allowing you to hear his soft heartbeat. There's something warm inside you, since you know that only you get to have this effect on him. For the rest of the night he pampers you with kisses, feeding you fruits, delicately applying your skincare and even giving you a massage. He asks you what you want, a red diamond set, a beach house in Okinawa, a holiday to Paris?

You giggle and snuggle up to him, "Make me some omurice tomorrow for dinner", he snorts and nips the tip of your nose, "This genie thinks you're stupid."

Patience is a virtue, and it is so worth it in the end because you get everything you want and more. Katsuki's made you omurice with ketchup hearts, you have one of rarest diamonds in a full set, a beach house to visit in Okinawa, and the trip to Paris had been sorted for Christmas.

And the best of all, you watch from the comfort of your house as the heiress and her father bow to rows of camera for the terrible behaviour she displayed to Dynamight and his wife.

"Honey, I'm home~!", Katsuki cackles and catches you as you jump into his arms, "Welcome home, darling~!"

Hi lovelies, hoped you enjoyed this one.

I was really contemplating what kind of comfort Bakugo would want from his significant other. And I believe that is acceptance of how he deals/communicates with his anger and frustration, even if its not the mature or best way. The metaphor of his anger as a phoenix also really stuck with me as i imagine it to start out like a candle, only grows more intense until it bursts and ends in ashes waiting to be revived. But until then, clarity has returned and Bakugo is more than thankful for your understanding.

I'll see you guys another time ⋆｡ﾟ♡｡⋆｡ﾟ

#reader insert #fanfiction #bakugou x reader #my hero academia #bnha #fluff #reverse comfort

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i-did-not-mean-to · 6 months ago

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MAY-U - Glorfindel x Erestor

This story has been written for @sortumavaara and is accompanied by chibis made by this amazing artist!

Chibi commissions are open!

Characters: Glorfindel x Erestor

Prompts:Neighbours - Locksmith - If you ask me to beg, I'll beg

Words: 2 110

Warnings: a kiss (and potentially criminal activity)

Glorfindel squinted at the door accusingly.

The very next day, he vowed, he’d finally buy a doorstopper to keep those pesky drafts from accidentally locking him out of his flat when all he’d wanted to do was retrieve his mail.

Of course, it might have been a supremely silly idea to do so in the middle of the night, but—being a busy professional—he tended to these domestic chores whenever the thought struck him.

Unfortunately, even the best, most earnest resolutions in the world wouldn’t unlock his undeniably firmly closed front door now.

He considered calling Elrond, but he suspected that he’d gone through all of the seven spare keys his friend had been squirrelling away for emergencies: one, he’d lost at the mall, the other had fallen down an open manhole, two of them were surely somewhere inside his inaccessible apartment, and he couldn’t remember what happened to the others for the life of him.

Maybe, he mused, one was still in the old, battered car he owned but never drove. That sudden burst of inspiration did not help him much either, as the key to that accursed vehicle was in his bathroom drawer, inside his flat.

Fishing his old, battered flip phone, the little battery in the top right corner flickering alarmingly, out of his pocket, he reviewed his options with as much level-headed rationality as he could muster.

He didn’t doubt for a moment that his friends, annoyed and incredulous as they would undoubtedly be, would offer him food and shelter in his hour of need, but the thought of their faces and sympathetic cooing made his blood run cold.

Blowing a stray strand of golden hair out of his face, Glorfindel sagged against the closed door in dismay.

How did this always happen to him?

He was an accomplished ophthalmologist—respected and cherished by his colleagues and patients alike—and yet, he seemed utterly unable to manage something as fundamental as not leaving his flat without a key.

“Hello there, do you need help?”

Glorfindel shot up, banging his head against the doorknob and yelping loudly.

He’d never heard his mysterious neighbour, occupying the flat at the end of the landing, speak this many words in a row. And they were addressed to him!

“I’ve locked myself out,” he confessed in a tiny voice.

“Again?”

Grimacing, Glorfindel brought his hands to his face to hide from the disapproving gaze of the handsome stranger. If even his neighbour, who’d never granted him more than a sharp nod in passing, had caught on to his shortcomings, what were people in general thinking and saying about him behind his broad, muscular back?

“I could help you with that,” the other went on, callously disregarding Glorfindel’s existential crisis in his unshakeable pragmatism. “But you’d have to pay me the common rate for an emergency locksmith.”

That made Glorfindel look up once more; he’d always been so distracted by the darkly magnetic aura of the furtive, slender man with the impressive glower that he’d never stopped to notice that his clothes, while well-tailored, seemed rather threadbare and had been mended with meticulous skill.

The complex they inhabited was far from cheap to live in, and an ungracious but pervasive thought arose in Glorfindel’s befuddled mind: How could this man afford to pay his rent?

As far as he could tell, the mysterious siren with whom he shared a floor and the occasional lift ride went out at all hours of the night, often only returning after morning light when Glorfindel, rising from another night of bleak insomnia, got ready to go to work himself.

“Are you a locksmith?” he asked suspiciously.

“Something of the sort,” the smirking man gave back with a nervous shrug. “I can open your door, right now, isn’t that what matters?”

Glorfindel hesitated for a moment. “What’s your name?”

“Erestor, but don’t worry, there won’t be an official bill.”

The unshakeable sensation of doing something wicked and reprehensible overcame Glorfindel, but he nodded solemnly. “Very well, Erestor. I shall pay you…and I’d like to invite you to stay over for dinner sometime. As a reparation for the time you’ll lose getting me out of this mess?”

Cocking one eyebrow, Erestor moved down the hallway to retrieve his tools from his own flat. “This won’t take all evening,” he said calmly.

“Maybe…it could?” Glorfindel heard himself say in a voice that sounded considerably more suave and confident than he felt.

As soon as he was alone in the hallway again, Glorfindel pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation; his glasses were in the flat and his head had started pounding with a tension headache five minutes ago.

He truly hoped that Erestor would make good on his promise to overcome the treacherous lock quickly.

"You have to move away from the door," a soft, mocking voice resounded.

Glorfindel’s head snapped up, and when he beheld Erestor once more, his tongue went numb in his mouth—he’d tied up his glossy, dark hair neatly and squatted down before the lock, squinting at it in concentration.

The alluring shape of his behind and the elegant curve of his spine didn’t go unnoticed, and Glorfindel desperately tried to redirect his wandering thoughts to something less incriminating.

“Listen, I’m an ophthalmologist—if I can offer my professional services to you one of these days…”

Looking up from his work, his hands enviably steady, Erestor merely cocked one eyebrow. “My eyes are fine, thank you. There just seems to be a considerable amount of lint and other debris wedged into this lock. Do you ever check your key before ramming it into the keyhole?”

Shamefacedly, Glorfindel had to admit that he did indeed not do such a simple inspection.

“I see,” Erestor mumbled distractedly. “No problem!”

His slender wrists were moving delicately until Glorfindel heard the telltale click echoing through the deserted hallway, and his heart sank.

“There we are,” Erestor declared, provocatively pushing open the door and stepping back.

“Do you…want to come in?” Glorfindel asked, all but stumbling over his words.

To his surprise, Erestor seemed to consider his invitation for a few seconds before shaking his head in what looked strangely akin to dismay and regret. “I must be somewhere else. Another time, maybe!”

Softening that ambiguous rejection of Glorfindel’s clumsy advances with a radiant smile, he strode towards the stairwell, tucking his tools surreptitiously under his arm.

Glorfindel threw his suitcase on the bed—he’d only just come home from a symposium about new laser technologies, and he already yearned to be anywhere other than his deserted, slightly disorganised flat.

For three days, he’d been bathed in the company of his peers. At that moment, he’d found them rather dull and boorish, but he now regretted every ungenerous thought bitterly as the gaping emptiness of his own home seemed to expand like a black hole, ready to suck every last drop of light and happiness out of his soul.

Just as he was about to do something laughably dramatic, though, he heard the loose board outside his front door creak treacherously.

Rushing to the spyhole, he was taken over by a recklessly idiotic idea—so much for having overcome that first impulse of madness!

Before he could give himself a moment to think things over, he strode out the door and looked around as if searching for something, pointedly feigning not to notice Erestor standing just outside his own flat.

“I was sure I’ve left it somewhere around here,” Glorfindel mumbled, his eyes glued to the worn carpet, and suppressed a grin as he heard his door clunk shut. “Oh misery!” he exclaimed. “Locked out again! And it’s the middle of the night!”

“I wouldn’t have thought that eye doctors have to work this late,” Erestor commented dryly, gesturing at the long, white coat Glorfindel was wearing and his uncharacteristically neat, smooth hairdo.

“I’ve only just come home from a medical convention,” Glorfindel explained defensively, as he didn’t want the other to get exactly the right impression of what was happening here.

“And, instead of going to bed and resting, you came out here to search for…” Erestor cocked his head quizzically as if it was entirely normal to have vaguely flirty conversations with one’s neighbours in the middle of the night.

“My bag,” Glorfindel replied, trying his best to look appropriately crestfallen. “My medical bag! It was full of goodies too!”

“As I surmise that you’ve been inside your flat already, I dare say that you’ve retrieved your key from said bag and consequently took it in. Do you need help looking for it?” It was evident in Erestor’s tone that he hadn’t in the least bought Glorfindel’s little subterfuge. “I could unlock your door again, and tonight, I have no other plans, so I’d gladly take you up on that late-night snack if you’re not too tired.”

Startled, Glorfindel stared at the apparition in worn grey overalls—had he ever found sturdy work garb to be this attractive before?—partially obscuring a clean, orange button-down until he was sure that his eyes were positively bulging out of his skull.

“Or did you change your mind in the meantime?”

At once, Glorfindel shook his head vehemently, carelessly unravelling his uncharacteristically tidy bun. “By all means, unlock my door and come in!”

All fatigue seemed to have drained out of his system, and he was shifting from one foot to the other impatiently, overjoyed at the prospect of observing those nimble fingers at work again.

Erestor smiled, tapping his skilful fingers against his toolbox playfully, and waited patiently.

“If you want me to beg, I’ll beg,” Glorfindel murmured, suddenly struck with how profoundly unreasonable his whole ploy had been. “I just want to get back into my flat…now more than ever!”

With a breathy peal of laughter, the unorthodox locksmith bent to his task, humming happily under his breath at the sight of the flustered doctor hovering above him.

As soon as the door swung open with a protesting groan, Erestor burst into laughter. “Your pesky bag seems to have hidden in plain sight! It’s right there, in the middle of the foyer, glaring at us!”

Ducking his head in shame at being found out, Glorfindel slunk in and threw an exasperated look into his clean but empty kitchen—he’d not been home, and he knew his fridge to be woefully empty.

“Can I maybe tempt you with delivery food? I’m afraid I don’t have anything edible in the house,” he confessed, avoiding Erestor’s amused gaze.

“Aren’t you a doctor?”

“I’m an eye doctor,” Glorfindel laughed. “And pizza is food for the soul!”

That was a statement with which even Erestor, contrary by nature, couldn’t disagree, so he followed his distracted host into a slightly cluttered living room where he simply halted.

“You may sit,” Glorfindel invited, hoping that he could at least unearth something to drink from the depths of his refrigerator.

“I’m dirty,” Erestor replied.

“Take the overalls off!” Moving towards the kitchen slowly while also refusing to take his eyes off his guest in case he took him by his word, Glorfindel wracked his brain for something smart and charming to say. “Do you also come from work?”

“Something of that kind, yes,” Erestor grinned. The sound of the fastenings of his protective garment coming undone echoed through the tense silence between them, and Glorfindel swallowed thickly.

The need for a beverage was both eclipsed and exacerbated by the revelation of Erestor’s maddeningly form-fitting trousers and impossibly unwrinkled shirt, leaving Glorfindel hovering on the threshold of the kitchen indecisively.

“Are these yours?” Erestor asked with a hint of sharp interest in his voice as he held up a pair of lightweight glasses that had been threatening to slip off the coffee table.

“Hmmm,” humming his embarrassed assent, Glorfindel decided that the refreshments could wait a little longer.

“Very sexy! Put them on for me,” Erestor demanded, getting to his feet and padding over like a sleek predator on the prowl. “I do want you to have all your senses about you when I name my price for my second rescue mission!”

“I thought I’d pay for dinner,” Glorfindel said somewhat sheepishly as he took his glasses and slid them onto his face; Erestor’s impish expression—his twinkling eyes and the tiny wrinkles around his smirking mouth—came into sudden focus.

Before he could dispel the suffocating mist of confusion and desire pervading the room, Glorfindel felt a strong, slightly calloused hand wrap around the back of his neck, and then, warm, soft lips brushed across his own.

“That too,” Erestor smiled. “Later. Much later!”

↬ Masterlist

Thank you so much for joining me on this new adventure.

@fellowshipofthefics here's the last one for May!

Lots of love from me!

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rayas-ryoiki-tenkai · 6 months ago

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feeling things for 261. So have some 236 angst with 261 spoilers (was I thinking about billies "the greatest" while writing this? Yes. Yes I was)

Sometimes, Satoru liked thinking about his youth.

It wasn't much eventful. He didn't get his clothes muddy from childish messes, neither did he scrape his knees during a rebellious game of football on neighbouring roads. None to call him a disrespectful godforsaken brat for silly little pranks.

No pesky classmates and their shenanigans. No ugly squawks from street vendors. No one to glue to his side and ask what song he was listening to.

For it to be so tasteless, so timidly hollow as if acknowledging its existence had dire consequences. It mustn't fit for a body like his.

As a child grows, their bones ossify to lock in the crutch of a growing future. Wiggle room, so bony parts could shift to best fit for the adulthood that was shaped by their own hands. Gojo felt he was born with his bones complete.

Satoru cranes his neck to catch the glare of the sun head-on. He knows the golden hour colours the blue of his eyes the best, much too used to filling the role under the spotlight. Perhaps, in a strange way, Satoru felt he only existed as such: through the eyes of others and nothing more.

The weight settles on his chest but it's nothing new, so he chooses to pull a smile instead. It's hilarious, really. Knee-slapping, even. Within the churning of responsibilities that carved on his skin in slashes, Satoru's thinking of a regretful childhood.

What would it have been like if he bled a little from cycling over a cracked curb? Would it have hurt the way he'd seen on a passing child once?

Would someone pull his head into their chest with a consoling "who's a strong boy?" without it dampening his breath?

Satoru coughs a dribble of blood, though he intends it to be a bubbling laugh. Someone did cycle with him. Satoru can still feel the greedy arm he'd wrapped around his waist, clear days in the blue spring, twin birds of black and white chasing each other tree by tree.

Satoru liked thinking about his childhood, for that selective moment where his best friend let him have one.

Energy warps in insignificant swirls around him. His body feels light even if fate keeps him lying in his own blood, a sadistic call from gravity. The sky looks unhelpfully bland, though Satoru finds it to be pleasantly stimulating. No clouds to pose as backdrop. No aerial flybys scribbling autographs with the trail of their engines.

Devoid of extravagance. It's simple. Dull. Gojo wishes there were more sights to see like this one. Perhaps, there'll be more down south.

You were wrong, Suguru. Satoru sighs to himself. I couldn't have been the strongest. Not when I lost to you.

Satoru lifts his hand to block the sun in his eyes. His wrist falls short in a grievous loss of blood. Crimson drops on the tainted skin of his cheek. Strength slips from each of his dying cells.

The call of the strongest was a curse beyond one's he'd exorcised. Even as his limbs roll with a cry of their own, the camera rolls, and he is to fill the role of centre-stage until somebody rolled out his puppet corpse. Satoru briefly recalls the doings of his body after a supposed death, and Yuta's wide eyes at his reaction to doing whatever the hell they wanted.

So much for strongest. Even in ripping through the higher ups with the claws of the collective vengeance after Jujutsu society, nothing changed. The grumps were dead. Maliciously killed to feel the death equivalent to the magnitude on their hands. Still...

"Please, don't bear the burden of being a monster alone."

Nothing changed. The burden never lessened. Never shared. To belong to him and him only. And nothing changed.

I'm sorry, Yuta.

Satoru doesn't cry. Though the burn of his disappointment stings bad enough to spring a few tears in his eyes.

I'm sorry.

A plane cuts through the sky. The burden never lessened on his shoulders. Gojo passes it on to someone else.

#.♥️rayawrites #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #jjk spoilers #jjk 261 #yuta okkotsu #jjk fics #jjk fic #jjk #jujustu kaisen #let's write

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fwhipunderthefloorboards · 2 months ago

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Hey! Down here!

No, really, alllllll the way down here! There we are, much better. Nice earrings you got there, they real gold? Anyways, welcome to my blog, and my kingdom! Enjoy your stay!

Affiliates

@therealsheriff

pesky little toy man.. I was his deputy once you know!

@gemofdawn

my next-door neighbour!

@totally-human-mayor

my other next-door neighbour, and also partner in crime!

@the-great-witch-shelby

magic woman! she gave me flying ears :D preeettyy sure she's a criminal but honestly who isn't?

@princess-of-glimmergrove

she's here. we trade sometimes. she makes cool clothes though! OH YEAH also she fought the wither with us once that was a thing that happened

@im-to-dye-for

yet another criminal sort of! friend is a strong word, but I like to think we get along pretty well. gotta band together to annoy our favourite sheriff after all!

@lonelyinventor

false! she's... quiet. not very social. but hey, even when you live underground mining for iron is still a hassle. we're more than happy to let them take it off our hands. not like I can judge social skills anyways, living deep underground

About the Mod

Hello! Raven here, neopronouns please! I'm a minor, and I also run the @gem-the-oracle and @ask-the-puppeteer blogs, both of which are roleplay blogs for the Hermits and the Olympians AU by @/ahllohehn. My main blog is not necessarily a secret, but I don't advertise it for the sake of keeping some degree of separation. If you think you found it, feel free to drop by and say hi!

Obligatory Disclaimer

This is a fun little roleplay blog! I am not in any way associated with the real life creator fWhip, nor any of his characters!

Now, this is so boring, isn't it? Stop standing around and let me give you a tour of the Goblands! First stop is the gift shop

#pinned post

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foolishlovers · 9 months ago

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hello my dearest jane!! i was wondering whether you had any friends-with-benefits fic recs? thank u 💛

lily i'm so glad u asked me, of course i have some for u 🥰 Agnes' Family Assortment by TawnyOwl95 (E, 15k) The devil’s flat (flat 6, Garden Court, 66 Eden Close, London) has been sold at last! Agnes, the resident mother hen, has plans for both her sultry new neighbour, and the lonely angel who lives in the attic flat upstairs. She is not as subtle as she thinks though, and her neighbours fight back. Not a Mounted Dildo but a Fuck Machine by summerofspock, NaroMoreau (E, 35k) Aziraphale and Crowley have lived together for three years when lockdown goes into effect. When Aziraphale meets a nice girl on Tinder who he thinks is his perfect match, he's delighted. There's just one hurdle: that pesky virginity thing. Lucky for him, Crowley has always been there for him. He's helped Aziraphale with every other problem through the years, why not this one? Flowers From The Grave Of Our Friendship by WaitingToBeBroken (E, 50k) Crowley is very good at temptation, not so good with what comes afterwards. Aziraphale knows demons don't love so he is happy to take anything Crowley would give him. Both of them are too blind to realize the thing they want is right in front of them. Tadfield's Finest by angelsnuffbox (E, 51k) The sleepy town of Tadfield is thoroughly shaken by the arrival of DI Crowley. Where barely anything ever happened before, there is now a bustle of low grade criminal activity, and everyone knows where to point the blame. Gabriel thinks he's a bad omen for the town, many others are quick to agree. Meanwhile, Aziraphale from SOCO just thinks he's hot. Ridiculously so. South Downs by summerofspock (E, 79k) Blackballed from the industry ten years ago, Anthony Crowley jumps at the chance to star in a new Regency romance miniseries with well-known gay actor Aziraphale Fell in the hopes that it will help him restart his career. The trouble is, Crowley has played all sorts of characters and for the life of him, he can't figure out why he's struggling to play the romantic lead opposite a man.

#i literally got excited like a kid on christmas seeing ur ask theheh #love giving fic recs thanks for asking me 💜#good omens fic rec #good omens fanfic #good omens human au #aziracrow #aziracrow fic #aziraphale x crowley #good omens #foolish recs

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rattymess · 1 year ago

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sleep doesn't come easy (especially with an indestructible mug)

Genre: Fluff Pairing: Steven Grant x Short!Reader Summary: you just wanted to take your anger out on one of your neighbours in the middle of the night (who just happens to be Steven Grant) Word Count: 900-ish Warnings: Mentions of sex, cursing, mild anxiety (might be more but those are the main ones)

|||||

Honestly, if you have to be frank with yourself, if you could move out of this apartment flat, you would in a heartbeat. No, not even. You would move out right before the question was even popped.

There was just a plethora of issues that came out of living in a flat that certainly had a relatively cheap rent compared to the rest of the buildings around it. For one, there’s that constant dripping sound that you hear out of that one pesky pipe that’s just barely above your reach (and how your landlord just keeps on postponing fixing that), and secondly, there's the giant family of rats that you are sure lives somewhere just beside your fridge (there are definite biscuit crumbs that are littered around there that you’re like..99% sure you didn’t devour). Also, your apartment temperature was always either a bit too cold or a bit too hot for your liking. But mostly, the thin walls were the thing that really ticked you off.

All those issues didn’t even compare to your next-door neighbours. You’ve heard all kinds of sounds in all of your time spent in this flat, ranging from sex noises to screeching babies. But one particular neighbour really takes the cake on this one. Specifically, the one who lives across from you and comes home especially late at night, mumbling incoherent nonsense to himself. You have no idea how that even trumps the moans and groans from your other neighbours but it just…does. Maybe it’s because they’re not exactly quiet when they come home or maybe your patience levels have just reached its limits. You’ve seen him a few times when you’re going off to work, but you’ve never actually taken a good look at them as you’ve always had a tendency to rush out of the building.

Well, that is, until today.

Standing in front of the aforementioned neighbour’s door at 4AM in the morning, clutching your phone one hand, you find yourself loudly pounding on their door. You honestly don’t remember what had even led you here. You just remember waking up from your restless sleep by a loud smash and wanting to scream your heart out at someone. Honestly, you’re not even sure if the noise even came from the guy across the hall. It might’ve been from the couple down to the right of the hall that accidentally broke a vase or something while they were doing their daily midnight…shenanigans. But before you can second guess your late-night decisions even more, a small click resonates from the other side of the door.

“H-Hiya love.” A man with giant doe-eyes that looked like he hadn’t slept in days and a slight pout glances down at you, looking like a young dishevelled schoolboy who knows that he’s about to be lectured. “Did I wake ya? I’m awfully sorry about that. I just came home you see, and my bloody arm accidentally knocked over my favourite mug. It’s still intact but still, I’m bloody sor– ”

You didn’t hear any of that. While the man was still spouting on about his mistake, you begin to feel your blood suddenly flow to your face. Your eyes trail down from the man’s messy dark curls (is it weird to imagine dragging your fingers through each strand?) to his bewildered wondering eyes that seemed to slowly trail down to the ground in shame, to his soft, breathless lips that finally seemed to stop moving. Oh. You abruptly look up, your anger quickly disbanding into anxiety. He’s so pretty.

“–I-I’m Steven, by the way. Steven Grant.”

The mention of his name brings you out of your thought train. Shit. Say something. ANYTHING.

“H-Hhhi Steven…” You wheeze out. FUCK. You’re suddenly more aware of your surroundings than ever. Sleep is now fully dispersed from your mind as your eyes fully gauge out what you’re actually doing. Looking down between you and Steven, your eyes widen as you realize that you’re wearing the most embarrassing outfit choice of your life: a pastel pink Barbie tank top alongside your hot pink sweatpants that read “Justin Beeb 4 Ever” that you bought as a joke and never thought you’d ever be seen outside with. FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. I mean, hey, at least you didn’t bring your stuffed teddy—nope, it was just in your other hand. You groan into your bear, quickly alarming Steven.

“Hey, love? Y-You alright?” He stutters, not knowing what to do. “Do you want to come in?”

You gradually raise your head from the bear to the man in front of you. This man...this man is an angel.

“I…I’m terribly sorry. I’m so embarrassed,” you anxiously say. “I couldn’t dare impose on you. I don’t even know what came over me. I just wanted to complain about the noise. I’m sorry. I..I’m just gonna go.” As you turn around and back towards your door, Steven grabs your hand into his. You swerve your head back up to meet his mesmerizing dark eyes. Huh?

“No, love. I clearly disturbed you. Look, I’ll let you go back to your flat but please don’t hesitate ever comin’ to my door to knock some sense into me, yea?” Steven sweetly smiles at you before letting go of your now-shaking hands. If you weren’t flustered before, you certainly are now. Clearing away the lump that has now formed in your throat, you whisper, “I...actually do wanna come in.”

Steven grins. “Well…come in then, love.”

#moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #moon knight fanfic #i still have no idea what im doing

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