#sigh. oh well. im almost done with this trio!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gojology · 4 years

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Lovebirds.

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | omg this is my first request. ilysm anon, im now feelin super cool. also, i just realized i put recc (as in recommended) instead of requests. i’m super stupid LOL. anyways, im touch starved too dw bby, i’m servin u up a long one since i rlly like this request and after all u r my first! 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo x Wife! Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2307 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | None! 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Coming home from a long mission in America, precisely 1 year, you’re excited to catch up on Gojo’s students, Nanami, and just Gojo in general. Leaning out of the car window, resting your arm against your purse, you sighed. A humid wind brushed against your skin, tickling you. It had been quite a while since you had been in Japan, spending almost a year on a huge mission in America. You had killed a battalion worthy amount of special grades. You spent most of your time in America in mostly horribly rundown places, equally as infested with curses. Although you found yourself enjoying America’s natural beauty, further away from the city life that many of the Americans found themselves enjoying, you much preferred Japan. after all, it was your home, and where you met Gojo Satoru. It would be another day until you could return, and you had gone through hundreds of scenarios of finally being in his arms again, but nonetheless, you were ecstatic at the thought of your husband’s touch. Your phone’s notification chimed loudly, you threw your phone onto the other seat, heart jumping up to a high rate. It was a recording of Satoru loudly yelling, “OPEN YOUR FUCKING PHONE!” with a flurry of giggles afterwards. Ijichi jumped, turning left and right. Whispering under his breath, he let out an exasperated sigh, switching the music channel. The recording was mostly because of the time you had to ghost him due to work. Gojo had snuck on and recorded it, doing some magical tech stuff and giving you the custom notification sound. You had kept it that way ever since, since secretly, you enjoyed that you were so badly wanted by Gojo, that, and you had no idea how to change it back. But the custom notification was sweet as well. You smiled to yourself every time you heard it, a familiar twinge of pain flashing inside of you whenever you realized you wouldn’t be able to see him for a while. Well, today, and the days after that would be different. You’d be able to finally see Gojo again, and his new students that he always frantically texted you about. Nanami, an old friend of Gojo, and also an old friend of yours, would also be there to welcome you back, you found yourself reminiscing about them. You had heard so much about them, one of the kids being Sukuna’s vessel, you wondered how Gojo could contain such a fear, being around the kid at all times, he always told you about how the kid was actually energetic and happy and an overall great kid, you had heard about Nanami, finally coming back into the jujutsu sorcerer field of work, even though you always found that he still had a thing for finances. You shook your head, “Save that shit for later, (Y/N).” muttering to yourself, you didn’t want to think of anything but Gojo, after all, it had been one fucking year of being deprived of the man you loved most. You were practically starving for the guy, in more ways than one. Ijichi gulped, facing towards you, one hand on his steering wheel, “Forgive me Mrs. Satoru, but um.. Forgive me if I misheard, but I think I heard your phones notification go off.. Due to the ah- incredibly loud profanity.” Now just realizing that you had completely forgotten about the phone notification, you nodded your thanks to Ijichi, a warmth rushing to your cheeks before opening up your phone. In the small, rounded box containing Gojo’s message, he wrote in all caps, “SUGAR, MY BELOVED, MY QUEEN, HOW CLOSE ARE YOU? I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT I’M LITERALLY BOUNCING UP AND DOWN IN OUR BED.” Smiling to yourself, you furiously texted back, “Calm down honeybun, I’ll be there in like, 24 hours, I’m not even fucking close.” You almost instantly got a DM back, making you jump a bit in your seat. Even with the 5 years of friendship, and the 3 years of relationship, and the 2 years of marriage, he still almost always texted you back as quickly as possible. “God I can’t fucking wait for you to meet the kids! We’ll keep it a surprise, yeah? We have a bunch of treats, and we also got the kids to get some gifts for you! How thoughtful aren’t they? They’re MY offspring by the way, so like, you know, whenever you want a kid, it’s your call ;)” You snorted to yourself, smiling. He genuinely seemed so excited, and it was all shining through even though it was from a screen. “Maybe in a few years, I don’t even wanna imagine a little you.” Despite the excited, bubbling feeling brewing bigger and bigger in your stomach, you figured it’d be best to sleep before the chaos. Happily sighing, you laid down, using your purse as a pillow, drifting into a blissful sleep. ‧₊˚✩彡. You awoke to a sudden halt, Looking around your surroundings, you figured you were home. Ijichi looked like he was damn near about to fall asleep on the steering wheel. Well, maybe that’s what 24 hours of constant driving did to you. You fished around in your purse, silently cursing looking for a water bottle. “Here, Ijichi, looks like you ran a marathon.” you grinned, handing the slightly crumped water bottle to him. He beamed as if a guardian angel had descended down and gave him a trillion dollars. “Mrs. Satoru! You really mean it? The ride was nothing, I was merely instructed to do so and I would’ve done it happily regardless.” You waved your hand, as a dismissal of the conversation. “You overwork yourself Ijichi, go catch a break, on me. If Gojo tears you apart, tell him he won’t be getting any pussy from me for another year.” Ichiji nodded vigorously, before dashing off, probably towards a massage center, God that guy needed it. ‧₊˚✩彡. Gojo frantically hopped up and down, it had been a day, now he was just waiting for you to bust through the door in your wild hair, his legs sprawled onto the whole of a couch, he stared at the ceiling, a dopey smile spread across his face. “Satoru. (Y/N) will not even want to be associated with you, looking at your current state.” he remarked, staring at the sorcerer with his strikingly dead eyes. “Nanami, how the fuck am I supposed to act calm?! I’ve waited for this moment for ONE YEAR! Does my hair look normal?!” “Your hair looks just like an albino porcupine, just as usual.” Flipping the page of his newspaper, he sighed, rubbing his temples. “I will never understand how someone like (Y/N) would be.. Interested in you, Satoru.” Gojo paid no attention to the insult Nanami had so clearly made, his ears were perked up, eavesdropping on a distant conversation coming closer and closer. “Gojo-Senpai was telling me about this movie while training my cursed energy! He basically spoiled the whole thing but he told me that the main character was super annoying but apparently she dies in the end in the most gruesome way possible! It’s worth the watch, your soul will feel cleansed as soon as you see her lifeless body!” “Yuuji, you literally spoiled the whole thing to me just now.” Fushiguro calmly stated, looking bored out of his mind. “Oh, oops.” Yuuji rubbed the back of his neck. He smiled coyly, tightly hugging his present. “What’s with the decorations, Gojo-Sensei?” inquired Nobara, stroking her warm toned brown hair. She had figured it was something about the presents that Gojo had forced the trio to get, but he never told them who it was for. The room had been decorated with various balloons and confetti, scattered about, on the table and the ground. A cake box wrapped with a gigantic bow limply guarded whoever was brave enough to get their hands on something that Gojo seemed to be protecting with his life. A pink table cover with a crudely drawn Gojo and what would seem to be a girl, a heart in the middle of the pair. In a horrible font with an even awfuller text, the text on top and at the bottom of the drawing proudly stated: “WELCOME BACK QT” “-YOU’RE HUSBAND AND THE CREW” Nobara stood in distaste, trying to disguise the face she made. The drawing, the misused you’re, and the overall poor design choice was enough to almost make her vomit. Nobara, about to make her distasteful statements about the whole mess, was suddenly shut up as Gojo started hopping up and down, looking directly at his phone. “SHE’S COMING! SHE’S COMING! EVERYONE IN YOUR PLACES!” Now, seeing Gojo freak out wasn’t outside of the ordinary, but it was to see him freak out to this extent. He was hopping up and down, blabbering about a certain woman named (Y/N). Nobara was pretty sure that if a curse attacked right now, even a special grade comparable to the one with the uncomplete domain could completely crush Gojo, the guy seemed completely unaware of the example he was setting to the kids. Even Yuuji stood in disbelief, and he had seen multiple tantrums by Gojo. Nanami, however, licked his finger and flipped the newspaper page. A face of boredom obviously displayed. Nobara, preparing herself to chew Gojo out about how utterly stupid and embarrassing he made the whole class of jujutsu sorcerers look like, stopped wide eyed as she looked at the doors slide wide open. ‧₊˚✩彡. You stood, shyly, looking at the ground. Gojo dove headfirst into your arms, laughing like a maniac and digging his face into your shoulder. You breathed in his scent, scanning the room. Three teens, sat wide-eyed, backs straight as they looked at you with eyes you couldn’t quite read. All three of them held presents. The one with eyelids underneath his eyes (which you assumed was Yuuji, the vessel of Sukuna) eyed you curiously, his eye twitched. The other boy, one with wild black-blue hair, sat mouth agape, before closing it. He looked like he was about to say something, before stopping entirely and hugging his present closer to his chest. The warm haired girl darted her eyes between you two, seemingly trying to put the puzzle together. Nanami put the newspaper down, glancing over to you two. “This is obviously Gojo-Senpai’s wife. He hasn’t seen her in many months, and as you can see, really really misses her.” he paused, a small smile spreading on his face, a rare sight. “I don’t even know why myself, but what can you do with lovebirds?” he thought aloud, his attention now focused to the two of you furiously making out, hands in places Yuuji and the crew didn’t need to see. “Satoru, (Y/N), leave the kissing for later. Don’t you see the kids?” You detached yourself from his mouth, panting for breath. The air being exhaled out of his nose fanned over your face, you had just now realized the kids again. “Satoru, lets sit down. I bet the kids are surprised. “ you motioned to the couch. Gojo whined. “What? They’re not that dumb, they can tell you’re my wife or at least, you’re my girlfriend, just by the way we kiss right? Isn’t this telling enough?” “You didn’t tell them about me, ever did you?” He sighed in defeat, holding tightly onto your arm as you dragged him over and sat down on the comfortable couch, opposite of Yuuji and the crew. Nanami scooched over, before finally getting up to pull another chair from somewhere else. Grunting, he excused himself from the room. “YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND, GOJO-SENPAI? AND DIDN’T TELL US?” Yuuji questioned, looking like he was about to faint. Gojo laughed, snuggling deeper onto you, almost like a koala. “She’s my wife, aren’t you, sugar? Did you even pay attention to anything Nanami said? He literally said she was my wife.” Megumi made an obvious gagging sound, but even he didn’t seem as bored as he was usually. He actually looked intrigued. “Why didn’t you tell us, Gojo-Senpai?” the girl nagged, slamming her fist down on the table. Gojo smiled, “Uh, well, I wanted it to be a surprise when she came back.” “Couldn’t you have told us that you had a wife or something?” Megumi butt in. The door slid open, Nanami coming in with a wooden stool. “Knowing Gojo-Senpai, that probably went over his head.” grunting as he placed the wooden stool down and sat, he opened his newspaper again. “Where do you guys know eachother?” “Was Gojo-Senpai handsome back in highschool too?” “Do you know what lipgloss Gojo-Senpai wears?” “Gojo-Senpai, how did you know you loved her?” “Gojo-Senpai, can we eat now?” “Do you know why Gojo has such a horrible sweet tooth?” Before you could even respond, Nanami put his hand up. “Now, now, lets let the happy couple settle down.” he cleard his throat, not even making eye contact with anyone but the newspaper. An audible chorus of groans sounded, “What do you expect us to do? We literally just met her!” moaned Yuuji. “Weren’t you the one that literally asked if we could eat yet?” Yuuji immediately shut up afterwards. “Yuuji, she just came back from a 1 day trip. She should be laying down comfortably with Gojo-Senpai and they should be catching up. You’ll have the opportunity to talk to her and learn about her later. Right now she needs space.” “But-” Nobara whined, clasping her hands together. Nanami turned to Fushiguro, but even he had his mind set. “I didn’t even begin to think that Gojo had a wife. I really want to know more about her, if you think about it, this is all Gojo-Sensei’s fault.” Nanami rubbed his temples, staring at the two of you for backup, realizing that you two were making out again. Nanami sighed, 10 years later and you two were still the same.

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sxfik · 3 years

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I have an idea!

Ok so we all know that Hanseo is abused by his big brother, and if i remember correctly, the jipuragi trio found out about it from the guillotine file for the first time.

Now hear me out, what if the jipuragi trio found out about the abuse from Hanseo himself, not from the guillotine file??

After failing to burn down geumga plaza, Hanseok threw that object at Hanseo, telling him not to dodge it, and it left a scar on his forehead. When Hanseo visited jipuragi, he seemed proud of that scar, right?? Because thats what he got from saving geumga plaza, and he hoped that the scar would show them that he wants to be on their side.

BUT lets forget about all those stuff for a moment.

Hanseok loves to strangle, threaten, and hit Hanseo with the hockey stick. It certainly happens more than once, so i figured that there must be a bunch of scars and bruises on his body right?? What if the jipuragi trio noticed one of his scars/bruises?? I know Hanseo always wear long-sleeved stuff, so its not exactly visible, but what if someone caught a glimpse of it??? Perhaps the scar/bruise was on his arm???

Maybe when Hanseo visits jipuragi, Vincenzo asks him to wash some coffee mugs, and as Hanseo is rolling up his sleeves...

"yo whats that on your arm??"

And maybe Hanseo is like "thats a bruise..? Do you not know what a bruise is??"

Okay, idk. I have no idea how he's gonna react if that happens. I just feel like Hanseo wouldnt be proud of his scars if he didnt get them from trying to save geumga/jipuragi people.

And now im just wondering, what do you think? How would Hanseo react, in your opinion? If the jipuragi trio really did find out about the abuse from Hanseo himself, how would that affect their relationship? Im really curious about what you think

Hhhhhhhh sorry if its too long. I just thought that this might be a good way for Hanseo and jipuragi to kinda get closer with each other...

han seo headcanons (part one)

helloooo, thank you for sending an ask in :D

SORRY this answer is super long and for some reason my phone isn't allowing me to add a keep reading cut thingy, apologies in advance to the amount scrolling you have to do

tw: abuse

i've been thinking so much about this ask and just how han-seo would react to them finding out, and honestly i never really took note of how many long sleeved shirts he wears. i believe han-seok has switched a lot more into emotional manipulation and abuse than physical abuse but he has a lot of anger issues. i'd honestly imagine him using han seo as a punching bag for any and every inconvinence that happens to him, even as an intern.

i also agree with you, han seo is someone who is a very bright personality who tends to hide his hurt and emotions, and he's very very good at it as he has been living under a psychopath his whole life. he's good at hiding his anger (although it definetly bubbles over in smaller outbursts) and especially his hurt (i.e. the scene that han seok throws that candle holder at him and he just smiles back). han seo has a lot of anger at himself for not speaking back or being able to act like himself. like in that scene in the office, you can tell as he curls his fist that he wanted to speak back so badly. even when he finally snaps against han seok, he said "i'm getting tired of being afraid of you." i feel like he'd be embarrassed that even after years, he hasn't been able to escape his abuse

next>

(you can also read the following on ao3)

i feel like this scene and their dynamic would play out something similar to this:

han seo joined the team and has been working with vincenzo and cha-young for around a month. at this point han seo isn't walking on eggshells with both of them, he's a lot more comfortable and visiting their office regularly without choi/han/han seok finding out.

sometimes it's vincenzo and cha-young providing him books to study economics from, maybe even giving some brotherly/sisterly advice to him. every couple weeks, vin and cha-young give him quizzes and slowly, he's getting better and better

over time, he even got closer to the plaza residents (even though the residents were definetly cold to him in the beginning, miri scaring the shit out of him by doing her ghost thing, the lady with the lipstick from bye bye balloon staring him down, snack bar lady refusing to serve him, larry also scaring the shit out of him by doing his zombie routine)

but despite this, they adopt him into their family, han seo doing small errands for the residents, him buying the best coffee, food and getting camera equipment for the snack bar lady's son. han seo gifting the pawnshop couple with cute baby items etc.

(obviously he buys the most expensive shit bc he's still a rich boy, but they dont have to know)

(side note: he'd be fucking adorable with a baby, imagine him being the babies "uncle han seo" who gets them the best gifts !!)

even though he was comfortable with all of them, every once in a while his facade would slip.

every once in a while, someone would make a sharp movement towards him and he'd flinch. or if someone makes a quick step towards him, he'd back up and stiffen up on instinct

even if it was someone patting his back or just making a quick movement, he'd react on instinct from the years of abuse from han seok. but no one ever said anything about it if they noticed.

one afternoon after lunch, they were washing dishes, han seo on washing duty and cha-young drying and placing them back. and han seo was in his full sleeves and cha-young notices his sleeves getting wet

"yah, roll your sleeves back, by the end of this your whole sleeve will be wet! you know how uncomfortable those sleeves would be?"

"ahaha, it's alright noona, i'll be fine"

han seo tries to laugh it off, grining at her with one of his wide grins but there's something off about this one. but cha-young gives one of her patented glares and he rolls them up carefully, shielding his arms from her view, and continues washing the rest.

cha-young doesn't take note of his bruises at first, but noted the care he went through to shield his arms from her. his arms were posed almost awkwardly and he was on high alert

it wasn't until after they both finished and he was drying his hands that cha-young saw the massive bruises he had, climbing up his forearms and under the sleeves

he stiffens when he sees her stare, and quickly tries to cover them but she grabs them before he could hide it

she's completely quiet while she stares at his arms. after a moment, he speaks up

"oh i accidentally banged these against my doorway, they're just small bruises. it's go away in a couple days" he smiles at her again but she could tell from the way his shoulders were frozen and the wavering of his voice that it wasn't the truth

"did he do these?" she asked him, her face completely neutral and her voice barely a whisper. she's still looking at his forearms, her fingers ghosting over the bruises.

han seo just looks down and the silence is enough of an answer for cha-young. he walks away, embarrassed that she found out about it, even though his years of therapy told him that it wasn't never his fault, he still felt the shame and anger of not being able to break free.

he's quiet for the rest of the time, feigning tiredness and finding an excuse to leave the plaza

that night, it was just vincenzo and her working at the office late, in preparation for babel. cha-young's mind was still on what she saw that afternoon. abruptly, she stands up, her hand gripping the pen in her hand as she turned to vincenzo sitting at the other desk.

"did you know that bastard hurt him? he's been abusing han seo this whole time?" she asked vincenzo, her voice seething with anger

"i know."

"you know??? why didn't you ever say anything?"

vincenzo looks up at her from his stack of papers, setting his pen down.

"it wasn't my place. i picked up on it when he flinched when mr. tak reached toward him to place a hand on his shoulder."

cha-young sat back down then, her lips pressed together, and vin went back to his paperwork

"we should get him out of there. who knows what han seok would do in one of his rages?"

"couple nights ago, we went to drink makgeolli and i offered him a way out. i told him if he ever needs to leave, and if he's ready to leave, he has a place at the plaza."

"and is he? leaving that is?"

"no. he thanked me, but said that he needed to stay until his brother and his group crumbles to the ground."

cha-young let out a sigh, biting her lip, the worry on her face all too evident

"hong cha-young byeonosa-nim, we shouldn't baby him. jang han seo deserves revenge against his brother just like we do and the choice is ultimately up to him."

"i know. i just worry."

they stayed quiet for the rest of the night, working late but the topic never leaves cha-young or vincenzo's minds

the next day, han seo avoided her like the plague, not wanting to talk about what she saw yesterday

but while he was studying, she approached him, a glass of juice and a snack in hand, setting it next to him. she checked over his work quietly as he took a break and glanced at his arms, doing a once over just to make sure he didn't get any new ones.

"well done, han seo, you're doing well" she smiled at him and ruffled his hair and han seo let out a breath of relief and gratefulness that she hadn't treated him any different

from then, cha-young and vin only got fonder of han seo and han seo was pretty much adopted by them. after the battle and han seok is in jail permanently, he moves out of his apartment, and gets one closer to the plaza.

mr. nam would show him how the organization worked at jipuragi and put him to work, the paralegal grateful to have an extra hand around the office

eventually, even han seo grows an affection to the instant coffee and buys more for himself and his apartment

vin would take him shopping for suits, both rich boys obsessed with their sleek looks. they take cha-young with them once but she manages to sleep off at every shop they go to.

vincenzo also plays hockey with him regularly and the plaza invites him to plaza game nights. they get up to all kinds of mischief,

han seo loves spicy food, just like cha-young so they make it their mission to go to try every restaurant and compete to see just how much spice they can handle. obviously vincenzo doesn't even make it past the first round of the spice competitions but cha-young and han seo have the same competitive streak that keeps them going

han seo is also dropping hints to both of cha-young and vincenzo that they should get married. constantly teasing vincenzo about cha-young in the way only younger brothers do

obviously on one of cha-young and han seo’s days out, han seo drops hints CONSTANTLY, trying to get her to admit cha young likes vincenzo

and OBVIOUSLY she slips up, and han seo doesn’t let go of it

he does the whole younger brother teasing every single time he catches cha-young glancing at vincenzo at the firm

“cha-young noona and vin hyung, sitting in a tree. K I S S I N—” “HAN SEO!!!”

obviously chayenzo eventually get together but decide to keep it a secret (and of course, they were awful at it)

eventually when they reveal it to the office, mr. nam and han seo react like that one scene in suspicious partner (“quick, act surprised” “*gasp* you guys are together??????? we had no idea!!”)

han seo is basically adopted as a younger brother to both cha-young and vincenzo and even the plaza loves his presence and he gets to have a peaceful existence for the rest of his life

anyways han seo deserves a happy ending with a good family. he deserves a second chance with a family that LOVES AND CARES FOR HIM AND GIVES HIM CHOICES AND ALLOWS HIM TO BE HIMSELF. (and yes this covered more than just one scene but I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS ON HIM) as always feel free to add on :D

#yes han seo calls her noona #they’re attached at the hip okay #both of them are chaos machines #literally vin cha young and han seo are the definetion of *too much energy* *too much energy* *calm*#mine #vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #chayenzo #hong cha young #song joong ki #tvn vincenzo #jeon yeo been #vincenzo x cha young #jang han seo #jang han seok #kwak dong yeon #ok taecyeon

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loousir · 3 years

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Soulmates {Oikawa Tooru}

Oikawa Tooru x Male Reader Part One

Anime: Haikyuu!!

Warnings: I dont think there is any?

Masterlist | Part Two

AU: Soulmates can have a different way of finding their partner. Yours is after both partners are at least 18, on the youngers birthday, they will swap bodies. They have to share their first of something together in order to return to their respective body. (Ex. Sharing their first kiss, first drink etc.)(If one has already kissed or shared a drink, for example, it wont count as sharing a first) Oikawa's is knowing what their first words to you are.

Originally Posted on February 2, 2021

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Today was finally your birthday. That meant that you would get to find out who your soulmate was. You were nervous but knew about it so you were prepared. A little.

You were getting dressed to go to school today and thankfully it was the end of the week so you'd have all weekend to find your soulmate. What nice and convenient timing. You did your morning routine before getting changed into your uniform. After pulling up you striped brown pants and adjusting your white jacket, you slipped the red tie around your neck before grabbing your things and heading downstairs.

You said a quick goodbye to your mom after stealing a toaster waffle and your lunch. You slipped on your shoes and headed out to school.

On the way there, you ran into Iwaizumi and Oikawa. You were very good acquaintances but not close enough to consider friends, like hanging at each others houses kind of friends. You and Iwaizumi shared class together but the three of you almost always walked to school together.

"Happy birthday (Y/n)-kun! You're finally 18 right?" Oikawa asked, slinging his arm around your shoulder and leaning on your slightly smaller frame. He poked your cheek gently as you ate, trying to get a reply out of you. "Shittykawa, cant you see he's eating something? Let him chew first." Oikawa pouted slightly at his "nickname" and sighed.

You finished chewing and nodded. "Yeah, I'm 18 today. I'll find out who my soulmate is tomorrow and I really hope it isn't you." You said in a serious tone as the three of you continued walking to Aoba Johsai. Oikawa whined on the way there with Iwaizumi butting in to shut him up.

The trio finally made it to school and went their separate ways, aka you and Iwaizumi in one and Oikawa right next door.

---

The day started and went on normally til lunch.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa usually go to their practice but today they invited you to eat with them. You accepted not exactly knowing why.

"So (Y/n)-kun~ Who do you think is your soulmate?" You shrugged as you ate your bento, glancing up at Oikawa. "You really wanna know?" You asked taking another bite. Oikawa nodded as he ate his own bento. Iwaizumi smirked over to you as he ate his lunch as well. "You should tell him (L/n)-san."

"I hope it turns out to be Kageyama."

Oikawa practically snorted out his drink and stared at you in shock. "You cant be serious?! Him?!" You laughed at the water running down his face and shook your head. You grabbed a napkin you had and wiped the pretty setters face. "Of course not."

Oikawa let out a sigh of relief. "I'd want Daichi to be my soulmate." You said in a dreamy tone as Oikawa choked on his rice. Iwaizumi had nothing today besides laughing at the scene in front of him. Oikawa leaned on his good knee over to you and gripped your shoulders. He shook you gently as he cried, saying something about 'anyone but the wingless crows.'

Iwaizumi pulled him off you after a minute and scolded him. You finished up your bento and checked your phone. There was 40 minutes of lunch left when you looked to the best friends. "So, what did you guys invite me to hang for?" Iwaizumi looked over to you and tilted his head slightly. "Are we not allowed to invite a friend to hang out?"

You leaned back on your hands and closed your eyes, letting your head fall backwards. "You are, it's just, weird. The Cap and vice Cap of the volleyball team invite a lowly art club member to hang out at lunch together. Sounds a bit odd doesnt it?"

Iwaizumi nodded and Oikawa didnt respond. You lifted your head up to see Oikawa a bit of a distance away, surrounded by a flock of girls. "Its your turn to pull him away. I'm gonna go check something." You sighed and stood up.

"Hey, shittykawa." Oikawa instantly turned around at the nickname and his fan girls became upset with you calling him that. "(Y/n)-kun~ You're taking after Iwaizumiii~" He said walking over to you. "And we were supposed to be hanging out." You said acting all coy. "You promised me we would this morning..." You whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear.

The girls were jealous and talking amongst themselves as Oikawa just looking at you, shocked. He had a deep blush covering his cheeks as you folded your hands together in front of you and looked to the ground with a pout. "(Y/n)-kun..." You looked up to him with puppy dog eyes. He suddenly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug.

"(Y/N)-KUN! IM SO SORRY!" He said as if he actually forgot he promised you to hang out. You smiled and giggled, gently prying him off of you. You grabbed his hand and started to walk with him. "C'mon. Let's go back to our spot." You said as you watched the lady flock disperse. Oikawa followed along, apologizing for forgetting a promise he never made.

Once the two of you were alone you sighed and let go of his hand. "Oikawa." He shut up and looked up to you with teary eyes. "You didnt promise me we'd hang out. Its ok." You may be mean to Oikawa but theres something about him that you love. You just cant be mean to him all the time... Ok yes you can but sometimes you want to be nice to him.

Oikawa smiled and pulled you into a hug again. You cautiously hugged back and patted his back. The bell signaling lunch was over rang and the two of you pulled away. "I'll stop by the gym after school to say a quick goodbye." You said grabbing yours and Iwaizumis stuff. Oikawa nodded and grabbed his stuff as well. He had a big smile on his face for some reason but you just brushed it off.

The rest of the day passed by pretty quickly. You had told Iwaizumi about stopping for a quick bye and he said, "Just be prepared for Oikawa." You didnt exactly know what the meant because you always were but before you could ask he had left for practice.

Once you were ready, you head down to the gym and pulled open the door. The lights were off and you furrowed your brows. "I thought there was practice today..." You mumbled to yourself.

Suddenly the lights turned on to show they gym and the volleyball team to be all dressed in nice birthday attire. You only stared shocked at the scene in front of you as the all shouted, "Surprise!" Oikawa appeared in front of your vision with a wide grin on his face and a small gift in his hand.

You blinked a few times and looked up to his eyes before looking to Iwaizumi who was approaching the two of you. "Y-you guys... Did this for me?" You asked, still surprised by what happened. Iwaizumi shrugged and tilted his head to the side saying 'kinda.' "It was Oikawa's idea."

Oikawa smiled and grabbed one of your hands, putting the gift in it. Iwaizumi put a party hat on your head before walking over to a table full of sweets and a cake. "Can I talk to you outside for a second?" You asked Oikawa. He smiled and lead the two of you outside the gym and away from prying ears.

"What did you wanna talk to me about?" You held the gift in your hand and pulled him into a tight hug. He stood tense for a moment before hugging back. "What's this for?" Oikawa asked with a small laugh. You buried your head in his chest and started to tremble slightly. He demeanor changed when he felt his shirt get slightly wet. "H-hey, (Y/n)? Are you ok?"

You nodded and kept hugging him. He hugged back and gently stroked the back of your head. "No ones ever done something like this before. So it's kinda a lot." You said clearly, having calmed down from your previous state. Oikawa laughed and pulled the two of you away to look you in the eyes.

"Really? Well then I'll have to step it up next time!" You smiled up to him softly before sadly looking down to your shoes. "I'm nervous Kawa..." His smile fades away to a sigh. "Me too." You look up to him in confusion. "I... Really hope tomorrow, I'll wake up in your body, Tooru..." He looks to your eyes and he has tears in this.

Dont ruin this moment shittykawa

"Me too."

You look up to him and smile a little. "C'mon, let's go back inside and par-tay a little before it's too late!" Oikawa said with a smile as he dragged you back inside. You saw Iwaizumi standing by a punch bowl with a knowing smirk but you didnt think much of it.

---

Everyone had hung around and "par-tay"-ed till about 7pm. They decided to call it there and start cleaning up. You tried to help but both Oikawa and Iwaizumi stopped you. "Why dont you and Oikawa head back first? The least we can do is clean up."

"But you guys did all this for me, I have to try to help even a little." Iwaizumi put your things over your shoulder and pushed you to an already raring to go Oikawa. "Just head home. Its ok." Oikawa gently grabbed your hand but you stopped and addressed the whole team.

They had paused to look at you and listen. You bowed and thanked them, your bow hiding the tears in your eyes. You stood up straight and smiled to them before going with an impatient Oikawa.

---

The walk to your home was filled with comfortable conversation about the party. "Hey, (Y/n)-kun? Could we have a sleepover at your house?" You looked up to him and tilted your head slightly. "Like the whole team? That's a lot of people and I dont know if my parents would even let me since there away right now-"

"No, not the whole team. Just us." You blushed at what he said and looked away, slightly embarrassed for rambling. "Oh... J-just the two of us?" He nodded and you just shrugged. "I-I guess thats... Ok. I dont think they'll mind." You said rubbing the back of your neck. "Let's goo then!" Oikawa said, dragging you to your house.

Once you two arrived, you unlocked the door and let him in. "Your house is so much bigger on the inside." He said looking around. "Wow thanks." He laughed, "I didnt mean it in a bad way!" You rolled your eyes and walked upstairs to your room thinking, "How the fuck does this dude make me flustered so easily..."

You didnt even realize Oikawa had followed you, thinking he would just stay downstairs for the time being. When you turned around to close the door you jumped at his presence. "I-Im gonna change so you can just hang out downstairs till I'm done." He smiled and gently rubbed the back of his head before asking, "Do you think I could use your shower actually?"

"Oh, yeah, go for it. It's the door behind you." You said pointing over his shoulder. He thanked you as you got him a towel he could use. You closed the door to your room and got changed into some comfy pjs. The shower could be heard through your door but you didnt mind and decided to make yourself comfortable on your bed and watch some tv.

After a few minutes, the shower turned off and after another couple minutes, the door opening to reveal a shirtless Oikawa wearing sweatpants. You looked over only to look away just as fast. Oikawa smirked and jumped into the bed with you. You squeaked a very manly squeak as he hovered over you.

Your eyes looked up to his but couldn't be stopped when they looked at his chest. 'A tattoo?' You looked back up to him and asked, "You have a tattoo? Since when?" He just smiled and shook his head. "Since I was like twelve. Look what it says." He said sitting the two of you up. Oikawa was basically sitting on your lap but you didnt mind.

'You're in the way, stupid trashcan.'

It was written in beautiful cursive. You smiled and tried not to laugh but couldn't help it. Oikawa watched as the love of his life laughed at the first words he ever said to him.

"I said that when we first met! Did you really get it tattooed on your chest?" Oikawa rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Its illegal to get a tattoo when your twelve." You tilted your head slightly. "Then how did you get it?" He looked at you unamused before becoming nervous. This made you nervous too as he laid the both of you down in your bed.

"(Y/n)... Did you study soulmates?" You nodded and asked why. "Theres a chapter about two soulmates having different ways of finding eachother." You nodded again and tried to process the information but he spoke again. "Mine was the first words they say to you are tattooed somewhere on your body."

You looked at him and fully processed everything. It clicked. "Is that why you... Did all this stuff for me over the last year? W-why didn't you say something sooner?" He glanced out the window and seemed nervous again. "Theres a chance that you can actually have a different soulmate than me..." You furrowed your brows and sat up to look at him.

He didnt look at you and just glanced out the window. "What do you mean by that?" He looked over to you and directly in your eyes. "When we both have different ways of meeting our soulmate, theres a chance that you could have a different soulmate even though you're mine."

"That means when we wake up tomorrow... I wouldn't be hugging you, but your soulmate... And... I dont want that."

Oikawa looked away and you just looked at him shocked. "You're so weird out of character." You said leaning down and pulling him into a hug, laying on top of him in the process. "I'm being serious y'know..." You nod and nuzzle your face into his neck.

"I know. I dont want something like that to happen either." He shifted so that he could look at you properly and cupped your face. His eyes held clear care and adoration.

"Let's sleep now, and if I dont wake up to you tomorrow... I'll find you ok?"

--- 2552 Not proof read too well

#m4m #mxm #x male reader #oikawa x male reader #oikawa toru x male reader #oikawa tooru x male reader

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ticklygiggles · 3 years

Text

Pranks for Lucifer | The Fantastic Three

Collab with @otomiya-tickles

A/N: Huhu, we're at it again! It had been a hot minute since my sweet Ginny girl and I wrote something together, and of course we had to write something with our current obsession: Obey Me!

Summary: The Anti-Lucifer Squad is plotting again like always, and Lucifer complains about it to Diavolo and Barbatos. Minor mistake! Looks like his borthers and that human aren't the only ones he should be careful of!

Words: 2,493

"What kind of plan?" Barbatos asked curiously, munching on one of his favorite Madam Scream's Macarons, looking as carefree as he could be, even as he was sitting right beside his Master.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, not at Barbatos, but in general. He had been dealing with a particular trio all week and just told his two companions the gist of it.

"Now, you're probably overthinking, Lucifer!" Diavolo reasoned, his calm demeanor almost making Lucifer angry.

Of course he was not overthinking. He knew his brothers better than anyone, especially Belphie and Satan. They were always up to something, trying to embarrass and piss off Lucifer, and now they had found an ally and who knows what kind of pranks they pull in the Human World?

"I'm telling you," Lucifer said with a sigh, seeing how Barbatos reached out for another Macaron. "They're up to something. The human has been… extremely touchy these past few days,” he explained, recalling all the times he felt the human's hands on him only yesterday. "Faking they almost fell and landing on me, holding onto my sides and squeezing unnecessarily hard."

"Why do you say 'faking'?" Diavolo inquired, tilting his head to the side. "Humans are silly creatures and not as gracious. They tend to fall a lot, don't they?"

Barbatos chuckled behind a gloved hand and Lucifer looked at him cautiously, "Young Master, humans do tend to fall all the time, but is it not a little weird that Satan and Belphie seem to be there every single time it happens?"

"How do you know?" Lucifer asked, frowning a little.

Barbatos looked at him with a sided grin, "I have been watching too, Lucifer," he said and Lucifer couldn't stop the sudden warmth assaulting his cheeks, he cleared his throat.

"What? Why is Lucifer blushing?" Diavolo asked excitedly, pointing at Lucifer’s cheeks, which he tried to cover up with haste.

“Am not,” he said, but Barbatos already replied, “Hehe. Why My Lord, I think Lucifer is only telling us half of the story.” Lucifer turned his head rapidly, looking at Barbatos in surprise.

“What do you mean?” he asked, noticing the rather teasy look on Barbatos’ face.

“You act like you don’t know. But don’t go tell us something without finishing the story,” Barbatos continued, and Diavolo looked from one to the other, chirping happily “what what?”.

“There is nothing more I need to tell you except that they have been acting strange. Suspicious brothers, touchy human, end of the story,” Lucifer argued calmly, but his heart was racing. When he welcomed Barbatos and Diavolo into his private office and they spotted the scheming trio hopping around Lucifer’s door before bolting off, he thought he could explain briefly how they had been acting funny all this time.

Obviously he knew all their tricks and plans, and among them was one particular thing they were plotting: they were trying to tickle him, but was that really a detail he should mention? Ah, he shouldn’t have underestimated Barbatos. He tried to shrug it off and took his teacup for a few hasty sips, burning his lips slightly.

“Hmm,” Barbatos hummed, looking not so impressed.

“He is all flustered,” Diavolo observed aloud, still sounding slightly confused, but intrigued.

“Am not,” Lucifer sighed again.

"He does," Barbatos mumbled with a smirk as he reached for yet another macaron. "Can My Lord guess what Lucifer's brothers and that funny human are trying to do?"

"Don't," Lucifer warned, looking at Barbatos with nasty eyes and then at Diavolo. "There's nothing to guess, I was just letting you know since they were acting suspiciously when you-

"Are they trying to tickle him?" Lucifer widened his eyes slightly and he cursed when he felt the warmth over his cheeks creeping to his ears.

Barbatos covered his mouth as he let out a charming laugh. "My Lord really is quick," he said, clearing his throat. "Indeed, Lucifer didn't want to admit they're trying to tickle him. I think it's a fun prank," he teased, raising an eyebrow toward Lucifer and grinning wildly.

Lucifer growled just as Diavolo laughed brightly. "It is a good prank. I wonder if they'd found out where Lucifer is the most ticklish?"

"Shall we ask them?"

"Don't you dare," Lucifer said, feeling his stomach doing a little awkward flutter, his heart racing. "Look, I just thought briefly that they were trying to do so-

"To do what?" Diavolo asked with a grin just as wild as Barbatos'.

Lucifer stared at him. Of course he was going to force him to say it, he swallowed and settled into the couch, trying to look calm. "To tickle me, but of course they wouldn't dare to try something so childish."

The happy smirks at the sound of the word they were waiting for really made Lucifer feel uncomfortable, and he unconsciously tensed up completely, keeping the teacup in his lap as if it could offer some protection.

“No, perhaps they would not,” Barbatos said calmly. Lucifer’s heart was pounding against his chest. As much as he felt himself driven into a corner by these two, he refused to make the first move. The silence between Barbatos’ and Diavolo’s words seemed to take ages too, making the anticipation only grow.

“But we do. Don’t we Barbatos?” Diavolo said gleefully, confirming Lucifer’s fears.

“Yes, we do. I think Lucifer should drink his tea first,” Barbatos said. Lucifer really tried not to show how flustered he was getting here. They were just calmly plotting to tickle him now after all this, right in his face?

“Please do not lower yourselves to my brothers’ level,” he tried to argue, clenching the cup carrying the hot liquid in his hand. They were going to tickle him, they definitely were. He had to get out of this.

Diavolo chuckled, shaking his head softly. "When you know where Lucifer is ticklish, there's no such thing as lowering levels," he said calmly and Lucifer noticed how Diavolo's eyes were intently looking at his cup of tea, waiting for Lucifer to drink the whole thing.

This tea was the only thing protecting him from an inevitable attack, so he clung to his cup, not caring if the liquid grew cold.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Barbatos moving forward and Lucifer couldn't help but flinch backward with a soft gasp. Barbatos and Diavolo laughed softly.

"What is wrong, Lucifer?" Barbatos asked, grabbing a third macaron. "Are you a bit jumpy now?"

Lucifer wanted to disappear. "Why are you doing this?" He nearly whined, eyeing his companions and then the door of his room. "I'll kick you both out of here if you do anything funny," he warned.

"Now, Lucifer. Why are you being so mean? We just want to have some fun!" Diavolo said, overly excited. "And since you already finished your tea, I'm sure you want to have fun too, right?"

"My-!" Lucifer looked down and he widened his eyes. His cup was empty! Not even a single drop of tea inside. "What- how did you- No." It was no use though. Diavolo gently placed a hand on Lucifer’s leg while Barbatos leaned forward and easily and gracefully snatched the empty cup from his hands. Lucifer grabbed after it as if it would do him anything good, but Diavolo’s hand moved from his knee to his arm while Barbatos put the cup on the table.

“Shall we start?” he asked eagerly. Barbatos chuckled. “Please do not ask me, My Lord. It is your call.” Oh, that it was. Diavolo dove after Lucifer like a happy child, instantly grabbing ahold of his torso with wiggling and digging fingers. Lucifer gasped, but on his other side appeared Barbatos.

“S-stop, you two t-this isn’t.. H-hey!” he gasped, managing to hide his laughter so far, but still, they were going too far! Barbatos placed a hand gently on his knee and squeezed, firm enough to make Lucifer jolt a little.

“Sensitive as ever,” he said, and it sounded like a compliment, but Barbatos was smirking and ahhh Lucifer really wanted to squirm out of here, but he only felt Diavolo hold onto him tighter.

“Hey hey where do you think you’re going?” he teased, his fingers on his torso spreading out and digging in more firmly. Lucifer gasped again, fighting back any sort of laugh or giggle that threatened to come out.

“You’re aha- you’re beheing like Belphie and Sata-ahh!” Lucifer felt his ability to resist slip away more and more.

“Yes, your brothers! I understand this is what they wanted to see,” Diavolo replied, his fingers attacking Lucifer’s sides with frantic enthusiasm. When this didn’t give him the reaction he desired, the rapidly wiggling digits moved up higher and prodded against Lucifer’s lower ribs.

Diavolo's fingers rubbed the right spot over Lucifer's lower ribs, the sensation making him spasm heavily before soft, embarrassing giggles started to pour out of his mouth.

"Oh, well done, Young Master," Barbatos said and Lucifer tried to compose himself, but he was giggling already and he knew he couldn't stop now. The dam was broken.

"S-Stohohop im-immehehehediately!" Lucifer giggled, closing his eyes and feeling his cheeks burning as he got a hold of Diavolo's wrists. "I s-swehehear I wo-ahahaha!"

Lucifer kicked his legs as he felt Barbatos' hand creeping up his thighs from his knee, squeezing at the flesh near his inner thighs.

His giggling surely turned a bit more frantic and Barbatos chuckled. "Do not forget, My Lord, that Lucifer has an extremely ticklish lower body."

Lucifer growled and he felt embarrassed, exposed, humiliated by the fact that Barbatos knew this information about him. He hated how observant he wa-

"What? Right here?" Diavolo asked and Lucifer threw his head back with loud laughter as Diavolo's fingers suddenly vibrated against his lower belly. He bucked forward in an instant reflex, dropping against Diavolo who carefully steadied him with a hand on his shoulder while his fingers continued to knead the taut flesh of his lower belly.

“Diahah-a-Ahh Bahaharbatos nohoho!” Lucifer whined shamefully as he squirmed against Diavolo and Barbatos picked up his leg so he could squeeze all around his knee, including the back of it. Lucifer simply lay squeezed in between them, writhing and giggling uncontrollably. He felt his ticklishly assaulted stomach flutter even more from the inside when he heard the two men chuckle charmingly.

“I have not seen Lucifer enjoy himself this much in a while,” Diavolo said fondly. His hand that held Lucifer’s shoulder moved down and playfully squeezed Lucifer’s lower side, making him arch back again, gasping loudly.

“Eehehehehe y-you two are so- aahaha!”

Barbatos chuckled, "What, so you are not denying it, Lucifer? Are you enjoying yourself?"

Wanting to sound intimidating, Lucifer growled, but uncontrollable giggles filtered in as Barbatos moved his nimble fingers from Lucifer's knee, squeezing their way up to his inner thigh.

"Cuhuhuhurses! Stahahahap!" Lucifer threw his head back against Diavolo's shoulder, quickly turning it to the side to avoid that ridiculous gentle look he always gave him when Lucifer laughed so carefreely like this.

"He is still not denying it," Diavolo teased, clawing at Lucifer's lower stomach with one hand and tickling his lower side with the other, his thumb gently pressing against a pressure point on Lucifer's side that positively made him cackle and arch his back.

This was so humiliating! He couldn't stop his laughter and they kept finding and abusing sensitive spots that made him jerk and shriek and the worst part that he was not… totally hating this.

“Ahahah! Nohoho - ughheheehhe…” From wording various protests, Lucifer felt himself slowly calm down until he was merely squirming against Diavolo and giggling and laughing breathlessly. Once in a while he would mutter a soft “S-stohohop!” but strangely he kind of found acceptance in the fact that these two were going to tickle him until they were pleased.

By the time they were, Lucifer was breathing heavily, still chuckling and giggling a little. “A-are you done?” he asked, wheezing tiredly. The two men chuckled as well.

“Yes, Lucifer. We are done,” Barbatos said, finally sitting back and going back to enjoying the macaroons.

“That was fun! It was fun right, Lucifer?” Diavolo said, and Lucifer wasn’t quick enough to snap back, blushing slightly and his lips moving wordlessly.

“He is still not denying it. My guess is, he thinks so too,” Barbatos said, nodding with this satisfied look on his face. Lucifer tried to glare, but found himself failing to.

“You two are going to be the death of me,” he muttered, still short of breath, but he couldn’t fight the urge to smile again.

Lucifer shifted until he was resting against the back of his sofa instead of Diavolo's body, and as he cleared his throat, Barbatos gave him a refilled cup of tea. Lucifer mumbled a soft 'thank you' and his hands shook as he grabbed the cup.

Barbatos couldn't help but chuckle and Lucifer glared, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Are you sure you'll keep eating those?" He pointed at the macarons with a move of his chin. "You're going to get... soft," he teased and Barbatos raised an eyebrow.

"What? Soft like this?" He asked and Lucifer gasped when his cup disappeared from his hands before Barbatos' fingers clawed at his upper thigh. "Did you eat many macarons, Lucifer?"

"Ahahahare- are y-you cahahahalling me f-fahahat?!!" He squeaked, kicking his leg and pushing at Barbatos' hand.

The butler stopped and he basically swallowed a fifth macaron as Diavolo laughed at the scene, giving Lucifer his cup back.

"Ah, but it's a shame you don't want your brothers to see you laughing like that, Lucifer," Diavolo said, smiling brightly at Lucifer. "You look so beautiful laughing so carefree!"

Lucifer's cheeks flushed again and he let out a sigh, covering his eyes with one hand. "I told you to stop with the compliments, Diavolo."

"Doesn't Lucifer look absolutely beautiful when he laughs, Barbatos?"

Barbatos hummed, nodding his head as he drank a bit of tea. "Really beautiful, his brothers would probably be mesmerized… or scared?"

Lucifer snorted. "I don't wish my brothers to see me like this. They wouldn't let me live."

"Oh! So it's okay if we do it?" Diavolo asked and Lucifer swore he saw a tail wagging behind him.

He opened his mouth to say something back, but no words came out and instead, his cheeks turned red again.

"He didn't deny it," Diavolo said and Barbatos chuckled. "He did not, My Lord. Then, I guess that is a yes."

Lucifer cleared his throat, and closing his eyes, he drank more tea, trying to hide a smile behind his cup. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Yes. Only these two demons could ever have the chance to do something as humiliating as tickling him, after all, he also had a free pass to get a little revenge on them.

#Obey Me #Obey Me!#Lucifer #Diavolo #The fantastic Three #Obey me! Shall we date?#mia's things #mia's fics #collaboration #collab #ticklish!Lucifer

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mirinda03 · 3 years

Text

A MURDER OF CROWS

@inkytrinket-irii

Or, a fic about Phil’s crows/chat and the resulting effects on his family

Philza Minecraft.

Many tales were known about the man. Some said he was an immortal, nicknamed the Angel of death, who spread death throughout the lands. Others argued that actually served death as the most fateful of angels. Some suggested he was just a really old man, while others knew better. With black wings spanning on his back that carried him across both earth and sea.

People knew a lot about Philza, be it because of legends or tales.

What was not as well known about Phil was his murder.

And no, not as in Phil was secretly a murderer who got away with a crime in the middle of the night by escaping out of the third floor window and taking flight so as to not be seen by any passerby.

… anyways

Murder as in a group of crows, reminiscent of Phil’s crow-like black wings, that followed the Angel in mass.

Not many people knew about the crows, not from a want of secrecy but rather a lack of asking. If you were to ask Phil, he’d simply tell you that’s ‘chat’, but if you were to remain silent and assume Phil just.. had a bunch of domesticated birds then that was what you were left with.

There were only three people who really knew about Phil’s crow.

The second best kept secret of the angel.

His children.

————

Crows were a constant in the Minecraft Household.

Wherever you walked, it was almost a given that you’d come across a crow sitting by the window or on the beds.

Sometimes they brought trinkets of coins (which Tommy was more than happy to try to steal) and even though they couldn't communicate with the three younger members of the family, they all knew they were Phil's.

If they were ever in trouble, they could know their dad was watching by simply spotting one of the crows from the murder flying high.

However, it was almost impossible to discern the difference between Phil’s crows and normal crow’s.

Not only that but most people were unaware of the crows, or even that the angel of death was a father to three kids (two of which he found inside a refrigerator. Don't ask)

As expected, chaos ensued

———-

Tommy was almost outside his window, ready to sneak out of the house. He’d been grounded after he’d tried to claim one of the birds as his own and named it ‘Puss Boy’ (resulting in the bird now being permanently tagged as such.)

The murder, bunch of snitches they were, hadn’t been very happy about it and they snitched to Phil about it which earned Tommy a scolding and a grounding.

Which, fuck that. He’d promised Tubbo the two would go explore the nearby cave to try and find some bats. He wanted to name one Bartholomew, it was a pogchamp name for a bat after all.

How was he supposed to get a bat named Bartholomew if he was fucking grounded huh? It made, in his oh so humble opinion, no fucking sense.

So, he decided on the most obvious choice of course.

Sneaking out of the house.

He waited until his family members were asleep to climb down his window and across the roof of the porch, getting ready to jump and make a run for it when he heard a ruffle from behind him.

Slowly, he turned around to look at the big tree which leaves covered part of the roof.

Crow eyes stared back, a name tag around its neck standing out from its silvery color.

‘Puss boy’

. Ah fuck

He’d ended up getting ANOTHER scolding from Phil for trying to sneak out and even more days grounded. However apparently Puss Boy had spammed hit Phil with small pebbles on his head so it was grounded too, and alongside tommy to top it off.

“You are the most annoying fucking bird in the world” Tommy said, trying to get the crow to stop picking up his stuff from its bookshelves “Fucking DIE already”

The crow squawked, dropping yet another small object on Tommy’s head.

“I fucking hate you you fucking pussy bird i am going to get phil to cook you for dinner” Tommy warned as he tried to swat off the bird by jumping high.

The crow squawked again

“Dont you say that to me you absolute fucking bitchass bird— i dont actually know what you say BUT IM SURE IT WAS FUCKING STUPID”

Puss boy ended up sticking around Tommy even after the grounding was over, for some fucking reason.

Tommy, despite his increasing protests and remarks against it, kept the bird.

——-

The day the spirits appeared, Techno was actually having a pretty normal day. He’d woken up, tried not to step on too many crows and ended up stepping into some anyway, had stolen the last piece of bread right before Tommy could eat it and he’d started up with reading a brand new book from the family library.

Then, the spirits came.

It wasn’t a gradual thing that he realized as hours passed, no.

The voices were loud and sudden and brash

‘BLOODFORTHEBLOODGODBLOODFORTHEBLOODGODBLOODFORTHEBLOODGOD’

Who the fuck was the Blood God?

Techno shrugged, flipping another page on his book

‘EEEEEEEBLOODFORTHEBLOODGODETECHNOTECHNOBLADETECHN—‘

Techno ignored the spirits currently crowding him that demanded blood and focused on his book.

He didn't find this all that weird anyway. After all, Phil had birds that also spoke to him right?

Same thing

—————

Wilbur smiled as people came forward to praise him for his singing. The young 12 year old had just gotten done with his first recital.

His music teacher frowned

“Oh Wilbur, i’m sorry your dad didn't show up” The teacher said, patting him on the shoulder as the other kids excitedly talked to their parents.

Wilbur simply shrugged, a ‘what can you do about it’ gesture. His dad, as the angel of death, was honestly busy.

However, he certainly noticed the almost dozen crows watching the recital from the rooftops.

His dad wasn’t here physically, but he was certainly gonna hear all about it.

—————

“What the fuck are you doing?” Tubbo called out from the ground, staring at the level of altitude Tommy was up on “Are you planning to jump up from the branch? Cause if so, do a backflip!”

“No, you bitch, i’m not” Tommy said like it was the most ridiculous thing before turning back to where he was trying to hold a conversation with a bluebird.

“Call philllllll you stupid pussy” Tommy said “Cmon go fly back to dadza, you little snitch. Ill even give you something to gift him so hell pay attention to you”

Tommy threw a small coin at the bird, watching as it stared at the coin in confusion before ruffling its feathers and flying away coinless.

“OII. YOU FUCKER. ANSWER TO ME, CALL PHILLLL. PHILLLLLLL”

Tubbo stared at his friend in the tree, rolling his eyes and beginning to shake the tree

“Will you get down already, Tommy? Its almost curfew!”

“STOP SHAKING THE TREE IM GOING IM GOING—“

——————

Wilbur was having a staring contest with a crow.

Well, to be exact, Wilbur was planning to win a bet thanks to this crow.

“Wilbur just give up” Techno said boredly from his place on the ground “You’re never gonna guess it, can i go back to reading?”

The twins were sitting in their shared bedroom, sitting on the carpet floor.

One of them was being a ridiculously obstinate bastard wanting to win a stupid bet.

The other just wanted to read his book, thank you very much.

Neither of them were getting what they wanted it seemed.

Wilbur tired his gaze from the crow, glaring at his twin

“I’m telling you techno, I can guess whether it's one of dad’s or not. Just give me a couple of minutes”

He went back to his staring contest.

Techno sighed, putting his hands over his face

“Bruhhhhhhhhh”

————

The crows were a constant in the boy’s lives, following them around and telling them that no matter what their father was there. They just had to look for a crow nearby.

They were also very fucking annoying, in the youngest opinion.

However, he found himself looking for the familiarity of the crows as he walked into the new SMP Land. He found a trio of crows sitting on the branches of the tree and rolled his eyes, keeping eye of the following crows.

“Come on Puss boy” Tommy said to the crow, which was smuggled inside his backpack because of course it fucking was. The annoying bird was so clingy, ender “We’re gonna dominate this fucking Dream Smp Land!”

#dream smp #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #sbi #sleepy bois inc #technoblade #philza #philza’s chat #dsmp #sleepy bois inc as family #i wrote this in an impulse lmao #this is borderline crack lmao

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mashiraostail · 4 years

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Hiiii, i was wondering if i could request some vlad king and gang orca taking care of their s/o pets. Like if the reader was out of town and asked them to take care of their dogs👉👈 i feel like vlad is such a good doggy dad that the dogs play together and i feel like gang orca would be lost but doing his best and if he was taking care of a cat i like to think it would love being around him because cats love fish and he would just always have his s/o cat cuddling on his lap. Im sorry for ranting lol i love your work you're doing great💕

awwehehe this is so cute since you mentioned dogs for vlad and cats for kugo that's what i went with! also indulged myself and included kugo/ jiro/shoji content bc that seems like such a GOOD FUNNY AND WHOLESOME trio and i wanted more content than we got smh

Sekijiro Kan/Vlad King: "Hey Sek, I need a huge favor.” You look up from your phone at the taller man who is currently scrunched into the corner of his couch scrutinizing a piece of paper with really terrible handwriting on it. “Sounds dangerous.” He replies without looking up and you snort dropping to the cushion beside him. “Only a little, but I think you’re good for it.” “Alright then, so what’s the favor?” His eyes flick up to you. “I need to go visit a friend out of town.” You sigh, “she had a baby last month, I used to work with her husband and she asked if I wanted to spend some time back home with her for her birthday next week, I should be about five days.” You rest your hands on his knees, “so while I’m out there..would you mind watching Kilo for me? I hate to leave him behind but It’d be a pain to travel so far with him I know he hates trains.” “That’s a huge favor?” He raises an eyebrow at you, “sure I can watch him. I bet they’ll get along fine.” He glances at his own dog curled up under a chair. “But only If you can figure out what the hell Monoma tried to write here.” For all intents and purposes, Kilo was a good dog, a little stupid, but a good dog nonetheless. To be honest, he’s really honored you trust him with the task, you’re the only person he’s met that seems to love your own dog as much as he loves his. Plus it also meant that Kilo had to like him a fair bit which was also a relief, as a dog owner he knew any potential partner was only as compatible with him as they were with his dog, and his dog loved you, he was sure you felt the same way, any partner that Kilo didn’t get along with would be impossible for you to get along with, he found it more than a little reassuring that Kilo seemed to enjoy his company. Past all that, and maybe even most important this was a perfect opportunity to introduce the two dogs. He was sure it was no secret to you but this wasn’t exactly a casual fling, with the way things were going it felt pretty inevitable that he’d ask if you wanted to move in together; but if the two didn’t get along well then..that’d be an issue. Though he was sure if things got tested out now you’d have some time to at least try to get the dogs to be comfortable with each other or hopefully think of some sort of workaround. In his eyes, this was a blessing for him as much as it was a favor to you. “Are you sure you don’t mind keeping Kilo at your place?” Sekijiro is slightly embarrassed to say how early he arrived at this park, he wanted to tire his own dog out before introducing the pair, he’d advised you to do the same so you were walking to the park, you'd called him on your way. “Of course I don’t mind babe.” He tosses a ball from his seat on the bench and watches his pudgy bulldog trot over to it, “it’ll be easier this way, right?” “Yeah that’s true, I just don’t want Kilo wrecking any of your stuff, he always means well but he gets into trouble sometimes-” “Don’t worry about it, he’ll be a model student by the time you get back.” He hears you laugh into the receiver at that. “I don’t doubt that, I’m almost there, I’ll see you in a few okay?” “Yeah sure thing, can’t wait.” You huff out another laugh at him before hanging up. “Sekijiro!” You chirp brightly at the sight of the man, he’s too busy taking you in to respond. Kilo’s trotting a foot or so in front of you on his leash, that old joke about dogs looking reminiscent of their owners was certainly true in your case, you both looked delighted to see him and beyond that, you were practically glowing... Maybe he just had a thing for people who were good with animals. “Hey Sek?” You lean down in front of him. “Hey! He welcomes Kilo between his knees, the mixed breed was a bit larger than his dog who was currently bounding back to him with a ball and sufficient slobber hanging from his mouth, the size difference in mind though Kilo was a hell of a lot less bulky, he was practically streamlined, Sekijiro had seen how fast the dog could run with his own eyes. He could see why you took so much pride in the dog, he was definitely beautiful his coat was long, wavy, and shiny and he had big blue eyes and admittedly the cutest pink nose and spotted tongue Sekijiro had ever seen. “Thanks so much again for doing this I really-” An excited bark pulls your attention downwards, “look who it is!” You sing, crouching down to pet the panting dog, “you sure look tired. Sekijiro is working you too hard.” You frown at him as he hops up to rest his front paws on your thighs. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Sekijiro laughs, “but he is worn out, I guess Kilo is too though.” Kilo’s head is on his knee, the larger dog is panting too. They seem to notice each other, and approach with a lazy curiosity. They sniff around each other for a bit but after that return to their respective activities, seemingly unbothered by each other and the proximity of the other dog to their owner. Kilo didn’t mind your cooing at Vlad’s dog who didn’t seem to mind Kilo’s head in his owner's lap. With that little bit of reassurance, you hand him Kilo’s leash and a bag of his stuff; food dish, some toys and treats and the like, and then you part ways after promising to call him when you get to your home town safely. All in all the coming days are pretty uneventful, Kilo joins them on their daily walks, eats at the same time with no trouble, finds a comfortable place to sleep each night. “Is Kilo alright?” Your voice is nervous in the receiver. “He’s better than babe, seriously they’re getting along great.” “God that’s such a relief.” You sigh, “the pictures you’ve sent are cute..gosh I miss him.” You pout a little. “Gee I miss you too babe.” He mutters it with a playful edge to his voice and you gasp, “I was going to say I miss you too but forget it!” “don’t be mean!” He complains back, “I was kidding! And anyway I miss you. How’s it been out there?” You go off on your usual tangents before ending up back at square one. “Oh! I called you for a reason actually!” You remember, “I’ll be a little bit late getting back on Sunday, one of the trains is going to be down so I’m taking a later one, I should be back around midnight now would you mind-” “Of course not babe, I’ll get you from the station so-” “No no! It’s okay you’ve already done so much that’s not what I was going to ask! I just wanted to be sure you wouldn’t mind keeping Kilo around for the extra time...I can get a taxi, seriously don’t wait up for me!” “Well just come to my place when you get back right?” “I wouldn’t wanna wake you up-” “It’s been way too long since I saw you last, so I don’t mind, if you won’t let me pick you up from the station at least come right here.” “You’re convincing.” You laugh a little, embarrassment heating up your face, “I guess that’s fine with me then...” A distant sounding voice pulls you away from the receiver, “Sek I have to go, I’ll call you again soon though!” “Don’t worry about anything babe.” He reassures you as you hang up. There is one minor spat over a rope toy but it’s resolved easily enough and the pair seem to get on swimmingly after that, even sharing a couch cushion and occasionally resting their heads on each other, they become incredibly fast friends, which is probably the biggest relief on the planet to Sekijiro. Watching the two of them play tug of war in his living room or witnessing their schemes to get leftovers off the counter on Thursday night essentially cement his vision of a future with you. If you were being totally honest it was embarrassing how attractive you found Sekijiro getting along with your dog to be, you’d never got the obsession of handsome guys holding cute babies but seeing some of the photos he’d sent to you over the almost 6 days you were gone made butterflies crop up in your stomach the likes of which you’d only felt when he was actively trying to fluster you...but this seemed totally unintentional. To say you were incredibly eager to go home and see him (jump his bones) felt like an understatement. It’s past midnight when you get back and the place is mostly dark, you see a vaguely bulldog shaped blob partially under a blanket on the couch, but the snoring it emits gives away it’s identity easily. You leave your bag at the door and venture into the apartment, poking your nose into the bedroom. Of course, Sekijiro is there, dead asleep on his back, and who’s with him but Kilo, his head resting on the blood hero’s chest one of his hands resting on top of it. “Oh Vlad-” You coo, you practically sing it at him. “Wha-whatsitwhat-” He rubs his face as he picks his head up, “oh, hey welcome back ‘s good to see you, missed you-” “You’re so sweet-” You’re already at the side of his bed, leaning down and kissing him. “What’s-” Sekijiro takes a minute to process everything before he realizes it’s Kilo’s head on his chest making you act like this. “Oh no way, he’s been a total angel-” “I’m so glad he likes you so much-” You murmur it between kisses, to his lips and various other spots on his cheeks and jaw, “you guys are adorable together.” “I’m glad you think so-” He cuts himself off with a yawn and turns into your lips, kissing you again before speaking, “you weren’t kidding about that late train huh? It’s almost 1 AM, you must be exhausted, there’s plenty of room for you in here so come on.”

Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca: “Hey, Kugo...” You approach him from behind and wrap your arms around his shoulders, leaning against the back of the chair he’s sat in. “Yes?” One hand comes up to cover your forearm the other stays dutifully at work. “You love me, right?” You rest your head against his and he pricks up at the inquisition. “Of course I do, why would you ask a question like that? Is something wrong?” The way his hand subtly squeezes your arm isn’t lost on you. “Hmm..no nothing's wrong.” You lean into him and close your eyes as he sighs good-naturedly. “Then what? Did you just want to hear me say it?” He leans back into you, “I guess I could entertain that...” His thumb swipes a long stroke over the skin of your forearm, “I love you, dear.” He can feel you prickle up at that behind him. “I love you too Kugo.” You squeeze him tighter and he huffs out a quiet laugh. “I’m glad to hear it. Now is that all you needed?” He puts his pen down to bring his other hand up to your arms, “I’m a bit busy. You’re welcome to stay there if you like though I just need to finish some paperwork and make a few phone calls. After that, we can do whatever you like for the night.” “Well, now that you mention it there was just one more thing. I’ll be fast I promise.” Your hand slides underneath his lapel and into his jacket. “Don’t worry I can make a bit of time for you then, what’s the matter?” You make eye contact with him through his darkened computer screen. “My boss invited me to this big conference next week, it’s a pretty great opportunity and I could meet some important people..” You explain, biting your lip, “it could be really good for me to branch out even she thinks so, and getting some more experience will be great, and it’s pretty close to my hometown so I figured I'd stop in and see some old friends after I got done..It’d be about 5 or so days and I’d really like to go.” You sigh and he seems more than a little confused based on his reflection. “That does sound like a great opportunity for you, you’re right..what’s the problem then? Do you need advice about something?” His confusion doesn’t quell even as you kiss his temple. “I probably will later but for now the problem is Luna.” “Your cat?” Kugo piques, “why is she a problem?” You sigh, “if I’m not around no one will be there to feed her and make sure she stays out of trouble.” “Oh is that it? That’s no problem at all dear, I can look after her for you. Is that what you were going to ask me?” “You don’t mind?” You perk up, “I don’t want to trouble you...and I know I could just as easily leave a key under my mat and have a neighbor do it but I trust you so much more and-” “It’s no trouble, really.” Kugo laughs a little, "I pass by your apartment all the time on patrols, I’m sure the interns won't mind if I make a stop and head up to check on her every now and again.” “Oh! You can totally bring them up if they like cats!” He laughs at that too. “Was that all?” “Mhm.” You nod and use the motion to nestle into him a bit, “Thank you Kugo.” ”It’s really my pleasure. Leave it to me, alright?” All things considered, Kugo’s also pretty honored to be trusted with the task of watching your pet cat, he knows how much you love and worry about her, you dote on her all the time, and if the copious amount of photos you send him of her say anything she’s definitely your pride and joy. For the most part, you spent the bulk of your time with Kugo at his own home, due largely to the fact that he was larger than average and he existed a fair bit more comfortably there, but he paid you visits in your apartment from time to time and had met the cat, she seemed to like him plenty which was a relief as well. You stop at Kugo’s before you leave and give him a list of things to double-check when he stops in, though you reassure him that there shouldn’t be any problems, Luna was pretty independent and mellow she didn’t like going outside so he didn’t have to worry about her escaping or anything like that. He tries to stop in at least 3 times a day, before, during, and after patrols, he knows that’s probably overkill, you spend all day at work and have never had an issue but he hates the idea of something happening to the feline on his watch. Plus even if he wouldn’t readily admit it he saw this as a perfect time to get on the cat's good side, you said she already loved him but he wasn’t convinced. He knew how much you loved her and any vision of your future that he had always featured the mellow feline so in his mind it was imperative they got on well. On top of that, he was glad you trusted him with something as small and delicate as Luna, she fits pretty comfortably in his hand and was as fragile as she was petit, but you never seemed off-put by the idea of him holding her or petting her, in fact, you encouraged it. The way you even wanted him near her when you weren’t around to supervise put him at ease about his strength and size, he always worried about breaking delicate things, but that wasn’t a worry you seemed to echo. “Is something going on in that building?” Shoji looks up at your complex as he pauses by it, “you’re stopping here a lot since yesterday.” “Huh? Oh. Actually no... well nothing of importance to you. I’m...catsitting.” Jiro holds her breath the hold in the laugh, “Catsitting?” “Yes...my partner is away at a work conference, the cat in question is theirs.” Kugo nods, “if you like cats you can come up and meet her, she’s actually quite friendly.” Kugo was pretty used to Luna at this juncture, but whenever other people met her it was easy to see why you were so proud of her, she was quite the stunning cat, a long dark grey and black coat with big green eyes and a swishing tail, her paws were colored as if she was wearing boots. “Wow...she’s really pretty, I’ve never seen a cat like this.” Jiro was crouched on the ground, stroking her neck. “I was surprised too.” Kugo confesses, “they found her in a box on the side of the road about a year before we met. She was only a kitten then. Her name’s Luna.” She seemed to like the pair equally alternating between them, rubbing against their legs and shuffling her head into their palms. “She is very friendly.” Shoji remarks as she purrs at him, attempting to climb into his lap. “She’s good at getting into trouble, but she usually means well. You can stay with her for a minute.” He sets off to double-check the usual; food, water, litterbox, the loose window that she’s always wiggling open despite having no desire to climb out of it, he waters a few plants and straightens up anything she knocked over as well. When he returns she's overturned on Shoji’s lap. “You’re getting along well.” He swipes a pillow she’d knocked over up and replaces it on the couch. “She’s really sweet!” Jiro is scratching her stomach. “I’m glad to hear it.” “Hey..sorry if this is too personal or whatever but I didn’t know you were.. dating someone... We didn’t snoop or anything though!” She swears, holding both hands up, the cat looks disgruntled at the loss of attention. “It’s alright I trust you.” Kugo waves her off, “Luna looks too comfortable anyways, you’ve clearly been petting her this whole time.” He adds with a small chuckle. At the sound of her name, she rolls over and winds around his feet, circling through his ankles and pawing at his pants until he lifts her up. “To answer you though yes I am seeing someone.” He holds Luna with one hand, his ring and middle finger scratching the patch of grey fur on her chest. “Are they a hero too?” She wonders, straightening up. “No...no they’re not, I’m not very public about this sort of thing.” Shoji contemplates that, “they have a nice apartment.” “That is true, it’s a good job, and they do have a pretty keen eye for decorating” He agrees, looking around amicably. “Have you guys been together for a long time?” Jiro blurts out before feeling color float up to her cheeks, “sorry I don’t mean to be rude... I just never pictured you like this I guess I’m curious-” “It’s okay, most people don’t, and yes, we’ve been together a while now.” Kugo raises a hand to calm her, “but like I said before I’m not very public about things like this which is why you wouldn’t have heard..though either way, even when we do go out together... most people don’t assume I do that sort of thing, and to be frank, we aren’t the most...visually compatible pair..” He says that with a distinct fondness in his voice and then continues, “like you said, you don’t really picture me in this sort of light, most people don’t so hero gossip tabloids tend to leave me alone for the most part, I get a fair bit of freedom when it comes to this sort of thing because of that. There are probably plenty of photos of us together out there, though people usually assume they’re my manager or a secretary or just a friend.” Luna is purring loudly in his hand, her body largely slack against his chest. He walks her over to the couch and sets her down, which she warbles angrily at, “to be honest though I prefer it this way. I’m a private person.” “That makes sense...well, their cat sure likes you.” Shoji points and Kugo chuckles. “I’m fond of her myself.” Kugo admits, “everything is as it should be here so we can head out again, sorry for the tangent.” He scratches Luna’s neck and sighs, “as for you I’ll be back tonight. So try to behave until then, for my sake alright?” Jiro tries not to laugh at the sight. “I didn’t think you’d actually bring them up! Did they like her?” You sound delighted about it over the phone that night. “I may have knocked a few intimidation points off of myself, but yes they thought she was cute.” He was sitting with her, contemplating staying the night here. He was embarrassed to say it but this was the longest you’d spent apart in a while and despite any appearances, he had gone soft and was starting to miss you, being around your stuff was nice even if he didn’t fit too well in your bed. “I don’t think you’re very intimidating at all.” You peep back thoughtlessly. “Well, I’d sure hope not.” He chuckles and leans against the couch, “she’s been good too I was,..expecting her to break more.” Truthfully Kugo wasn’t sure what he was expecting, he never had pets growing up and hero work didn’t give much free time to consider one, it took a day to get comfortable with her, and even now he was watching his every step for her. “I’m glad to hear that!” You laugh, “she’s a pretty great cat isn't she?” “I have to agree..” Kugo wouldn’t mind having her around all the time, the longer he sat on your couch and contemplated it the more he realized he wouldn't mind having the both of you around all the time. Was this some sort of emotional sign to ask you to stay with him? He’d give that more thought at a later date. “Kugo are you listening?” “Of course I am.” He was not. You don’t seem perturbed though, chuckling and then sighing fondly, “I’m gonna go shower then call it a night, I miss you two though.” Kugo looks down at the cat on his lap and he nods, “we miss you too. I’ll be up for a bit longer so call or text me if you need anything.” “You shouldn’t stay up so late Kugo it’s bad for you-” “I know, I know, I’ll turn over a new leaf when you get back.” “Sure you will.” You snort, “I love you Kugo.” “I love you too, I’ll see you soon.” You wanted to see Kugo first thing when you got back but you were so exhausted that you can’t help sulking to your own place, things had gone well enough but all the commotion and travel really drained you. You were sure it wasn’t anything spending some time or even a night with Kugo couldn’t fix though. When you shoulder your door open though there’s Kugo, sitting on your couch. “Kugo, you’re here?” He’s holding some papers in one hand, the other is holding Luna’s back, keeping her against his chest. “I was just checking in on her but every time I tried to leave she started..making a weird noise.” “Weird like how?” You chuckle, suddenly feeling much better. “Sort of like screaming. But cat-like. I sat down and she clawed her way up here, then fell asleep and almost fell off, but I caught her and she hasn’t moved since.” “And... how long ago was that?” “What time is it?” “Half-past 6.” “2 hours ago. I didn’t want to wake her.” “Kugo.” You laugh and sit beside him, “you’re so sweet.” You wrap both of your arms around one of his and lean into his shoulder, “I missed you so much.” “I missed you too.” Kugo sets the papers down on the pile by the arm of the couch, “It's sort of embarrassing but I even stayed here a few nights because of it. I can’t remember the last time I went even 2 days without seeing you.” He appreciates the way you seem to melt into him at that. “That’s not embarrassing it’s sweet, you’re so cute Kugo...” You lean up and kiss him, “such a big softie aren’t you?” A soft hum is his reply as you pull away, “was she any trouble? Be honest.” “I was worried at first that I’d screw it up somehow but it went fine.” He confesses as he lifts the cat off his chest and she’s sleepy and limp in his big hand, purring contentedly. “She was acting up the 2nd day but I think she was just confused about not seeing you. Then she got used to me and was alright.” “That’s cute..” You yawn and clamber onto his lap, “god all that traveling tired me out...you’ve been stuck here for 2 hours but I might have to trap you a little longer to take a catnap of my own. I think Luna’s onto something...” You nestle into his shoulder, grateful to feel his arms come around you. “Don’t worry about me.” He hums as Luna curls up in the sliver of space between your bodies, “I just want to finish reading over some things. Then I'll bring you both to bed.” “You’ll stay tonight?” You yawn again and he hums, you can tell he’s smiling even though you can’t see him. “Would you like me to?” You nod into his shoulder, “yeah, I would...” “Alright then I will. Now go to sleep, you need it.”

#kugo sakamata x reader #gang orca x reader #vlad king x reader #kan sekijiro x reader #bnha x reader #bnha requests

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jadedxrealityw · 4 years

Text

-Evermore- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

♡~🐍~♡

Summary: The wizarding war is starting and your family fears for their safety. Even though they were purebloods, they were not death-eaters. They decide to flee to america, but you, unlike them have someone to lose by leaving.

Kody: The song this image is based off of. Evermore by Dan Stevens (From the Beauty And The Beast 2017 Movie)

Year: 7th

House: Slytherin

Possible Triggers/Warnings: some angst, cursing i think?

♡~🐍~♡

when you were 13 you had the displeasure of meeting Draco Malfoy. Just transferring from America had been a big change for you, but you were ready to take on the challenge of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. That was until you bumped into him.

you hit somebody’s chest with a harsh thud “Watch where your bloody going!” someone shouted at you. You step back and meet the cold grey eyes off a pale boy. “Excuse me?” you said, slightly taken aback by his loud shouting. The boy had an amused grin on his face.

‘I was the one who had it all. I was the master of my fate’

“do i need to repeat myself? Watch where you're going? Who even are you? You sound american” he crosses his arms over his chest. You raise a brow ‘who does he think he is?’ you thought. “I’m Y/n L/n from ilvermorny. I just transferred here today so i am in fact American.”

his grin didn’t falter in the slightest “What’s your blood status?” he asked. You almost gasped. Why did he need to know that at all. You keep your composure this time putting on a grin of your own. “and why does that matter in the slightest?” you question.

“Because, i’m Draco Malfoy, pureblood and i shouldn’t be wasting my time with anyone less” he spoke with such smugness that you wanted to punch him right then and there. You put on a fake pout before answering “It’s to bad that i don’t care about blood status then huh?”

with those words you pushed past him and his trio of friends, leaving him in your metaphorical dust. As you walked away Draco watched your every movement. He was captivated by the way you stood up for yourself. It was different. It was exciting.

“I remember now! She’s from the american pureblood family. The L/n’s!” Theo shouted with a proud smile at his memory. Draco looked at him with a surprised expression “Really? Why didn’t she just tell me that then?” he replied, slightly irritated.

“because she was messing with you and you walked right into, Malfoy” Pansy rolls her eyes “I swear boys are so stupid” scoffing she began walking to class. Blaise and Theo following after her. Draco just sighed very loudly “Oh so now i’m the bad guy!”

♡~🐍~♡

‘I never needed anybody in my life. I learned the truth too late’

the next week during potions class Draco was visibly struggling with a potion he had been working on all class and if he didn’t get it done before the end of the session he would fail. “That doesn’t look quite right” a voice said from beside him. He looks over to see you, standing behind him.

“Shove off L/n and mind your own potion” he hissed, each word laced with venom. What a Slytherin am i right? “I’m already finished, i think you missed an ingredient” you say, leaning over to look at his potion. He uses his free hand to push your head away “I don’t need anything else, it has to be perfect.Now leave”

he watches you place something next to his cauldron and walk away to your own desk. He gazes over at what you had left. Unicorn hair? hes hesitant, but picks it up then drops it in the cauldron. He watches the potion change to the right color and smiles to himself.

he looks over at you and you give him a small wink before going back to your potion. Maybe you weren’t that bad, but he’d never say that out loud.

♡~🐍~♡

‘I'll never shake away the pain’

fast forward to 4th year, yule ball is upon Draco and he came alone. Pansy was taking Ginny and Blaise was taking Theo. As he stood at the entrance of the ball he felt a presence to his left “Did Draco Malfoy come alone to the ball?” a teasing, familiar tone said.

‘I close my eyes but she's still there’

he rolled his eyes and prepared a witty comeback, but all words left him once he saw you in a beautiful black dress. “Have i left you speechless?” you ask, stifling laughter. He regains his composure somehow and grins “Didn’t you come alone as well, why? Did no one ask you?” he teased.

you shake your head “No actually three seperate boys asked me. I just said no” you say simply, catching Draco off guard. “Really? Why?” he questions, He watches as you sigh deeply “Because i was waiting for you to ask me of course. Now do you want to dance?”

‘I let her steal into my melancholy heart’

Draco stood in shock before he felt you grab his hand, leading him to the middle of the dance floor. “Unless you don’t want to of course?” you tilt your head to the side. He shakes his head a bit before placing his hands on your waist. A strange feeling envelops his chest.

you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a warm smile “You seem frightened by me?” you ask, unsure of your own question. He shakes his head quickly “No!- no i’m not, it’s just- thank you for saving me from the embarrassment of going alone. I don’t want people to think im-” he admits.

"a loser?” you finish his sentence. He chuckles at your answer “Yeah, something like that” he responds, his tone sadder then before. You shrug your shoulders at his statement “I wouldn’t think your a loser. I’d still like you” you spoke confidently.

his grey eyes widened as you said those three words to him.

‘It's more than I can bear’

and he ran away...

♡~🐍~♡

weeks had past and students were now leaving the train to meet up with their parents for the summer. Draco hadn’t spoken to you at all. He was to scared to admit his own feelings to you. It was a coward move sure, but it was better than having to look at your bright E/c eyes and fall even more.

Draco was holding his luggage in one hand when he bumped into someone “Oh my, i’m so sorry” and there was the familiar voice again. His eyes locked with yours “Hey Y/n” he said. You scoff and place your luggage down, turning your body towards his.

“you leave me on the dance floor and reject me in the most rude way possible and all you say is ‘Hey Y/n’ if you were that disgusted by me Draco Malfoy, you could have just said so!” you shouted at him, he could see the tears brimming through the same E/c eyes he had seen so many times before.

he felt his world shatter a tiny bit at your outburst “No that’s not it at all. No one has ever liked me before okay?! It’s different. Especially when i like them back” it was your turn to be surprised this time. “Oh...you do?” you say, wondering if your ears had been playing tricks on you.

Draco nods slowly “Yes, i like you Y/n and i’m sorry for the way i acted at the yule ball” he says genuinely, no trace of mischief in his eyes. The corners of your mouth turn upward in a smile “Apology accepted” you nod once. He copies your smile.

“so what does that make us?” he asked. You roll your eyes “It makes us boyfriend and girlfriend Draco. That means i am yours and you are mine, got it?” you state, pointing a finger at him. He grins lightly and nods “I wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

‘Now I know she'll never leave me’

you smile up at him before your eyes looked at something behind him. “Oh that’s my parents! I have to go, but i’ll write you!” you force each word out quickly then stand on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek. You give him one last smile before picking up your luggage shouting mom and dad.

‘Even as she runs away’

Draco turns behind him to watch as you walked away with your parents, his hand reaching up to touch the cheek you had left a kiss on. He felt his mind go fuzzy as the tingling feeling still lingered on his kiss. He let out a deep sigh “She’ll be the absolute death of me, that’s for sure”

‘She will still torment me’

♡~🐍~♡

the month you two spent apart was one of the worst feelings Draco had ever felt. Now that you two were together, he had this nagging feeling of always wanting to hold you and just be by you in anyway. He didn’t know he could become so attached to someone.

after one night he had a fight with his father he stormed up to his room, slamming the door. He tried to calm himself down, but it was no use. The anger just wouldn’t subside. That was until a soft knock came to his door “Draco, honey. A letter came for you. From someone named Y/n L/n?”

Draco quickly opened his door. Narcissa handed him the letter and turned on her heels to walk down the hall. He closed his door again and rushed over to his bed. He opens the letter, your handwriting was so unique. With each word he read, the angered feeling drained away and a comforting one replaced it.

‘Calm me, hurt me’

he did scowl at the small section of you berated him on how he should of sent a letter first, but he also found it quite cute. He collected each one of your letters after that. He kept them in a black wooden chest that he hid under his bed. They became his cherished memories.

‘Move me, come what may. Wasting in my lonely tower’

he wished that he could have spent that summer with you instead...

♡~🐍~♡

‘Waiting by an open door’

his leg wouldn’t stop shaking, he was going to see you again and it was the start of his fifth year and whatever, but that wasn’t on his mind at the moment. He was sitting in the Slytherin cabin of the train, waiting for you to step on. His mind was racing in two different directions.

‘I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in’

while waiting his mind had convinced myself that she was actually a figment of his screwed up imagination and he was a fool for waiting for her, but after realizing that even thinking that was the truth was mental he calmed down quite a bit.

“Draco?” that familiar voice spoke. He looks up to meet your E/c eyes once again. He jumps up from his seat and wraps his arms around you tightly. You stumble on your feet a bit, but hold onto him as well. “Happy to see you too?” you say with a small laugh.

“please don’t ever go on vacation for the summer again, i couldn’t handle it”he breathed out into your ear. You smile and pat his back “Okay i won’t you big baby” he pulls away and pecks your lips quickly, your face flushing. He grins a bit at your reaction. “Your lucky i like you Draco Malfoy”

‘And be with me for evermore’

♡~🐍~♡

‘I rage against the trials of love. I curse the fading of the light’

they were 16, it’s been a year since they started dating and Draco was, to put in simple terms. Losing. His. Shit. Not only did he have the dark lord’s orders to fulfill, you were coming over tonight and he was going to tell you those three terrifying words.

his thoughts could no longer race as a knock came to his bedroom door “Draco?” oh shit. You were here. He takes a deep breath before going over and opening the door. He instantly wraps his arms around your waist “hello darling” he says in a breathy tone before leaning down to kiss your lips.

“hmm, hi” you say in between kisses. “I can’t believe your mom said yes to me sleeping over” Draco leads you into his room, shutting the door. He shrugs “Mother knows how much you mean to me so” he trails off at the end. You nod “Yeah i am your girlfriend, so it makes sense”

‘Though she's already flown so far beyond my reach’

“yeah, but your so much more to me” he says, his tone becoming serious. You chuckle nervously at his change of demeanour “Okay..” he lets out a deep sigh “oh merlin, i’m trying to say i love you Y/n. i’m in love with you. Like stupidly in love with you and you say boys are stupid”

a smile grows on your face before you wack his arm with your hand “Ow!” “Next time just say that you goof. I love you too Draco” you exclaim. He chuckles before scooping you back into his arms and both of you share a sweet kiss.

♡~🐍~♡

now. 7th year. With the wizardry war starting and people choosing sides. Things were getting chaotic and fast. “Y/n pack your things quickly, were leaving!” your mother shouted from the living room. You rush downstairs in a haste “What do you mean were leaving!?”

your mother turns to you with a horrified expression “the sacred 28 are coming. There going to try and convert us to death eaters. Were leaving for America now!” she shouts. You shake you head rapidly “But Draco- i can’t leave him!”

“He’s a death eater Y/n. I know you love him darling, but he chose his side” she spoke in a comforting tone, but you didn’t find it comforting at all. Pulling out your wand you apparate away. Leaving your mother in shock. Where had you gone.

♡~🐍~♡

‘She's never out of sight’

a there you were. Standing in Draco’s room. He looked away from the window and to you “Y/n? You can’t be here. Love. you have to leave” he spoke in a hushed tone as he walked towards you, grasping your shoulders. “I know Draco, i know your a death eater”

his grey eyes were filled with shame, looking away from you “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t my choice Y/n you have to believe me. It was my fathers idea i swear on everything” the way he spoke was enough to convince you. “I believe you Draco. I do” he lets out a sigh of relief “Thank merlin”

“my family is fleeing to America. The sacred 28 are coming to my house right now to give me the mark” his eyes were no longer shameful, but terrified. “You have to go then” he said, cupping your face with his hands “I can’t-” “-Yes you can. Love, your not safe here”

“I don’t care. I can’t leave you Draco. It would be too painful” you spoke, tears starting to water in your eyes. He nods slowly “I know, but as soon as this mess is over you can come find me again. I’ll be waiting at my front door for you. I promise”

you look down, refusing to meet his gaze as tears began to stream down your cheeks “Promise me Y/n” he says more sternly. You hesitantly look up at him “I promise” you nod, putting your hands over his. “I love you Y/n L/n” he chokes out. “I love you too Draco Malfoy-”

“-I had a feeling you’d be here” a voice came from the doorway. Narcissa Malfoy. Draco lets go of you and pushes you behind him “Mother please” he begged. Narcissa waved her hand “There’s no need for that Draco, come along Y/n so i can sneak you out. They’ll know if you apparate”

‘Now I know she'll never leave me’

“Your not going to tell the dark lord?” you asked, holding onto Draco’s arm. Narcissa simply smiled and shook her head “I could never do that to you or my son, now we must leave at once” she held out her hand for you. You look at Draco before letting go of him.

‘Even as she fades from view’

“Make me a promise as well. In the end you’ll choose the right side in the end” you say/ He nods slowly “Anything for you” he spoke, giving you a smile that you return. Narissa grabs your hand and leads you out the room, closing the door. He waits a couple minutes before looking out his window.

he saw his mother leading you out the Manor. She seemed to say something to you before placing something in your palm. She gives you a kiss on your head before you apparate away. At that moment, his whole world had shattered. You were gone. Really gone.

♡~🐍~♡

‘She will still inspire me. Be a part of everything I do’

and he kept his promise. At the day of the final battle when Harry Potter fell out of Hagrid’s arms. He ran towards him and threw his wand at him before leaving the scene completely. He hoped his mother wouldn’t worry to much about his whereabouts, but when Harry finally defeated the dark lord. He smiled.

he couldn’t wait to see you again. After charges were being dealt to his parents Draco and his mother were pardoned of all crimes due to there help towards Harry and his friends. For once he thank Potter for speaking for him at his trial. He wasn’t such a bad guy.

‘Wasting in my lonely tower’

it had been days since the war was over and there was still no word from you. It had been months without contact and you were no where to be found. He went by your old house. Empty. Not a single witch or wizard to be seen. Had you moved on?

‘Waiting by an open door. I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in’

like he promised, every morning, afternoon, and night. He wait by his door for an hour. Waiting for you to walk down the Manor path so he could wrap you in his arms again and feel your familiar warmth again, but a week had gone by and nothing, but he wouldn’t lose hope.

‘And as the long, long nights begin. I'll think of all that might have been’

he started waiting longer at the door. One hour turned to three. Narcissa had became worried about her sons health. So she made sure that he ate and drank enough water. Even help him to bed when he passed out leaning on the doorframe. Which he did. A lot.

♡~🐍~♡

three weeks. Nothing. The early morning shift that day he wore his night clothes as he sat on the concrete. He had his face in his hands, rubbing away any tired feeling he had. “Draco?” his whole body froze like ice. He prayed that it wasn’t the tiredness as he looked up.

there you were. A small smile on your face as you stared down at him. He leaped off the ground and grabbed your face “What took you so bloody long?!” he shouts. “I had to wait until i turned 18 so i could leave. My mom tried to keep us apart, but it’s okay. I’m here now”

he nods vigorously. “You are. Your here” he smashes his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. It lasts a couple seconds before you pull away “Your mom gave me this by the way” you pull a silver ring out your pocket. It had a small black diamond on it. “My mother's engagement ring?”

you chuckle “That makes a lot of sense now. she told me to give this to you to give to me when we see each other again” his face flushes slightly as he takes it from your hand “After you leaving me for a month. I never want to lose you again. will you possibly, maybe, marry me?”

he looked unsure of your answer. “Of course you goof. Gosh, boys are so stupid” you say and hold out your hand. He grabs it and slides the ring on your finger. he gives you the brightest smile “I love you Draco Malfoy”

“I love you too Y/n Malfoy”

‘Waiting here for evermore’

♡~🐍~♡

Kody- 4am, sleep now. scoliosis hurting. Anyways, peace.

121 notes · View notes

smokahuntis · 4 years

Text

Weightless

Nothing Personal

Pairing: Javier peña x reader

Warnings: set last name, cursing, mentions of sex and death. Masterbation, night mares.

Summery: he embassy calls in a new agent to assist agents Peña and Murphy

Authors note: I’m back and I’m going to try and start a series! Based on the album Nothing Personal by All Time Low. This would be chapter one.

Word count: 3.4K

Manage me, I’m a mess

“Agent (y/n) Carter” the ambassador said as she gave them the files “she will be joining, this is everything you need to know in her and she will be here later today.

Javier nodded as he picked up the file “of course, madam ambassador” he stood with a crooked grin and looked her over “and may I say, you look amazing in pink” he said softly and kindly. Steve just rolled his eyes and walked towards the door.

“Keep dreaming Peña” she shook her head and let them leave to review the file.

Turn a page, I’m a book half unread

“Agent Carter ” Javier handed Steve the file. “ ‘DEA’s finest’” he mocked and lit up his cigarette as he set back. Letting the smoke fill his lungs as he took a long drag of his Colombian cigarette. He watched Steve waiting for his opinion.

Steve only chuckled and set the papers down “I went to academy with her...” he said, javiers eyes lit up before he shook his head

“I didn’t mean-“

“We aren’t friends it okay” Steve chuckled.

I wanna be laughed at, laughed with, just because

“Oh- okay... okay...” pena leaned back again as the smoke clouded the humid air around them.

“She was always an overachiever, no one really liked her in my class” he chuckled and put the file away. “Way to smart to be choosing dea, but there she was. Didnt talk to anyone, didn’t let anyone talk to her.” He shrugged “I’d be surprised if she talked to us”

I wanna feel weightless and that should be enough

“So beware shes a bitch?” Javier chuckled and put his cigarette out

“Yep” Steve got up and grabbed his empty coffee cup. “Want a coffee?”

“Not from here...” he shook his head and got up.

“You know back home I always chose Colombian brew coffee, and now I’m in colombia and I don’t see why I thought it was good” Steve chuckled as they walked together to get a drink at the coffee place across the street.

“I’ve spend out money on more valuable things then coffee machines that aren’t from the 60s and beans that aren’t 2 years old” Javier joked and shook his head as they strutted the halls. They were such a duo, splitting them into a trio is a sin, but they’d have to get used to it.

Well I’m stuck in this fucking rut

Meanwhile back in LAX (y/n)’s brother tried to convince her it wasn’t worth it. “Colombia is dangerous right now, you could get killed- or- or worse!” Thomas said following her.

“What’s worse then dying?” She watched him with a bit of a cocky grin.

“You could end up like- like Kiki” he said without thinking before she grabbed her brothers collar roughly.

“You don’t say a damn word about Kiki... plus” she let him go and wiped her Dainty hand on her white button up. “After what the US did to the Sinaloa I think I’m safe from that” she sighed and kept walking.

“(Y/n) listen- please... I can’t loose my sister, not to- Pablo Escobar” he grabbed her hand. She turned and looked at him with upset eyes. “You’re all I have left...” he whispered

Waiting on a second-Hand pick-me-up

It was true, she was all he had left, dad was away over seas and mom was gone. Their oldest brother died years ago, it was just her and Thomas. But they were both adults now, she could do what she wanted, and she had been. But now she was a little worried for Thomas.

“I’ll call, and I’ll visit when I can, just go home Thomas... I’ll be okay” she said looking at him, before the warning for her flight went off, 10 minutes now. “I love you, I have to go” she hugged her younger brother before she left.

I’m getting over getting older

(Y/n) looked over her files on the plane, she knew it was a matter of time before escobar knew who she was so she didn’t hide it. She didn’t care, she knew he was almost untouchable. Almost.

(Y/n) had been all over for the DEA, her most frequented place however was Mexico. She worked in Mexico for a long time, she was young and stupid and she kinda thought it was the DEA’s way of getting rid of waste, expecting her to die at the hands of the Sinaloa. However she returned very much alive, and very much tearing open at the seems. She still has nightmares of her time there, but she didn’t care, she had to keep going, for him.

If I could just find the time

Javier set up the stuff in the meeting room before he made his way home for the night. His little two bit apartment given to him by the Embassy. It was nice, he knew that, but it always felt cold and empty, that’s why he filled it with girls, smoke, alcohol smells. It was like a fucking bar. He tried to not bring work home with him but he couldn’t help it most nights, things either bothered him to much or had to be done sooner then later. Some days he wanted to feel weightless, and those days he could escape the heavy burden of people lives depending on him. The ones he couldn’t save, or the ones he’s trying to save. He was trying so hard, but he couldn’t escape.

He needed air, that’s what it was. Right now when he felt his chest collapse on him, he needed aid, real air. So he was quick to make his way out the door and to the front steps of the apartment building, he almost didn’t see her. The (h/c) girl standing there at the steps with her bags. He almost took her out, but he stopped in time.

“I’m- im sorry uh- can I help you?” He asked clearing his throat as he looked at her. She pulled her hood off and looked up at him holding her bags close to her

Then I would never let another day go by

“This is the embassy apartments right?” She asked with a soft shivering smile. He was quick to answer, maybe to quick.

“Yea! Yea this is- this is them yea... you’re-“ he started but she cut him off.

“(Y/n) Carter, yes- hi- um- sorry I didn’t mean to cut you off I’m just tired and cold and really want to get inside. He nodded understanding, completely forgotting why he came out here as he looked into her eyes, illuminated by the yellow street lights behind him.

“I’ll show you to your apartment” he smiled and took her in, she was just across the hall from him. Her apartment identical in most ways, however her kitchen was bigger and so was her bathroom.

I’m over getting old

“Thank you, you must be Agent Peña” she smiled as he got the key from the leafy palm in the corner, unlocking her door for her.

“That I am” he smiled and helped with her bags. If he was going to be stuck with her he wanted to be nice. He didn’t want another agent, him and Steve were doing just on their own, but the embasssy expected things to be done instantly, but they are putting to many cooks in the kitchen.

“Thank you for helping, you didn’t need to” she smiled and set her bags down on the bed and looked at him.

“Of course” he smiled and set her things down with the rest. “So, we’re you invited or did you request to be transferred”

Maybe it’s not my weekend

(Y/n) looked at him and pushed hair behind her ears and shook her head. “I requested it actually, I requested it months ago really but-“

“Why would you want to be here? You know what’s happening-“

“That’s exactly why I want to be here” she stood straighter and looked at him. “You need all the help you can get it seems- and I understand if you don’t want me here because I’m a women”

“No! No no- no that isn’t it I promise” he said feeling a bit of his earlier panic come back, but it was only a little. “I don’t care you’re a women I’ve seen your file you’ve done amazing things but we were doing just fine without you...” Javier said looking at her, his hand up in defense.

“Then why did the embassy want me here ASAP?” She asked crossing her arms.

“Because they think we are stupid or something... they expect things done instantly and it’s impossible.” He explained. She nodded and sighed

“I understand that feeling. But I’m here to help... I promise” she looked at him as the moon light filtered threw her window

But it’s gonna be my year

He nodded and sighed “I’ll just let you get some sleep, I’ll see you at the office” he walked out of her room, giving her one last look as he smiled “goodnight Agent Carter” he walked out to his apartment again.

(Y/n) sighed and unpacked all she could tonight and took a few melatonin and went to sleep, trying to get on the schedule.

It wasn’t hard for her to get up in the morning, making her own coffee and getting ready early. She wanted to be there before them so she could go over things and get caught up. So getting ready quickly she tied her hair up in a tight ponytail and made her way to the office. She was always on time or early, wanting to get ahead of things or finish work so she didn’t have to bring things home.

I’m so sick of watching all the minutes pass as I go nowhere

Javier however, couldnt manage to get himself out of sleep. Stuck in a long nightmare that has his body aching and sweating to wake up but he was stuck there, in that spot in the sticky cotton sheets. He tossed and turned but al he could see was the blood, every scene he’d been to, it took a toll on him. He couldn’t help it anymore, couldn’t hold them back, couldn’t stay up and drink a shit ton of coffee and just keep going.

He was hurting himself even more trying to ignore it. He was lost in a sea of sound, until finally he woke up, alone and covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“Fuck....” he shook his head and got out of bed, throwing his things in the wash before he got in the shower. He felt so exhausted from sleeping, that’s not right. He hated this constant feeling, it was so much. He couldn’t even escape at home. Seemed the only time he felt fine was when he was baring himself inside a women of the night and telling her how perfect she was, only to wake up alone and try to relive that moment in the shower by himself.

This is my reaction to everything I fear

It was no secret, Javier Peña was a ladies man. To get in the head of the cartel he slept with the same women as the cartel, did it work? Yes occasionally. But it wasn’t that anymore, it wasn’t just work, it was a form of escape now. Was he a sex addict? Yes, most definitely. Did he care? No, because it was release in more ways then one and that’s all he wanted.

He did have a talent tho, remembering every name, every face. Every women. He was a talented man. But right now that didn’t matter, what mattered to him in this moment was making himself feel weightless as hot water ran down his body. He was alone last night, after showing (y/n) her apartment he went home and to bed. So he had nothing to relieve, no face to see when he closed his eyes. Oh... how he was wrong.

Cause I’ve been going crazy, I don’t wanna waste another minute here

There she was, the beauty he met last night. (Y/n) carter. Why was she what he thought about right now? He just met her. She was his partner and he’d only see her face and hands, that’s not even enough for a weirdo to get off. But it was enough for him to wrap his hand around his throbbing cock and leaning his head back as he stroked himself.

His chest heaving and his eyes rolling back as he pumped his fat cock in his hand. Soft grunts escaped his mouth before the words left it “(y/n)... fuck...” he groaned.

He didn’t even know the girl and he was getting off in his shower to her.

This could be all that I’ve waited for

He didn’t know why he felt like this, but in his mind he had her on her knees, her lips wrapped around his tip as she took him down her little throat, just that image made him let out a loud moan. Soon his balls tightened and he was coming all over her face, and down the drain.

He shook his head as he opened his eyes and looked at the mess he made. Causing him to sigh heavily and clean up before he got dressed and ready, trying to get the idea out of his head. It was his first day with her, and he wanted to fuck her. Wow.

This could be everything I don’t wanna dream anymore

When he got there she was already liking over things, remembering faces and writing in her notebook. She looked peaceful there, just staring at a cork-board of killers and drug lords. He could tell quickly this is her environment.

“Hey” he said setting down his coffee and taking off his brown leather jacket. She turned with an other bright smiled and looked at him, her smile lit of the room and made his chest feel tight, but not like his panic the night before, this was warm and different.

“Hey” she said in her silk tone as she set her note book down. “ I hope you don’t mind I’m taking my own notes.”

“Not at all, whatever makes you comfortable” he smiled at her softly. At that moment Steve walked in with his own coffee and pen. He was way to quick to notice the look in javiers eyes, the interest he had in her.

“Thanks” she smiled before looking at Steve “Steve Murphy, wow... hi” she smiled and shook his hand.

“Hey Carter, it’s been awhile” he chuckled and shook her hand

“It’s been more then awhile” she smiled and looked up at him

Maybe it’s not my weekend, but it’s gonna be my year.

“Well it’s good to know we have a good agent on our team” he smiled. “So what are you working on”

“Just taking my own notes so I can memorize things faster and get caught up” she smiled at them.

“Oh did you color coat them too?” He asked a little to condescending. She sighed and caught on quickly but went on.

“No I did not. I’m not a preppy teenager.” She stated simply before walking back to take notes.

“While you do that we are going to go do real things okay?” He grabbed his coffe and walked out with Javier. (Y/n) was pretty used to sexist comments or people thinking she couldn’t do things so she brushed it off, however Javier didn’t.

I’m going crazy, I’m stuck in here

“What the hell was that?!” Javjer looked at Steve and closed the door as they got into their little office.

“What was what?” Steve asked and set his things down.

“You being an asshole to her, what did she do to you?” Javier said taking up for her.

“I don’t know Javier what’s up with you? Staring at her like you’re guess engagement ring sizes!” Steve argued, they argued way to often. Like a married couple really.

“I was not!” Javier scoffed “I can’t be nice to my new coworker?”

“Just yesterday you were dreading her! And now you have heart eyes all over her” Steve said

Maybe it’s not my weekend but it’s gonna be my year

“I don’t have heart eyes, I’m just looking at her, damn” he sat down and opened his earliest files and started work.

“I’m sure” Steve shook his head before starting to work.

Soon (y/n) made her way to the office and walked in and almost fell over with a heart attack “my god, how do you work in such mess” she asked looking around.

“Mess? I think it’s pretty clean” Steve said looking around

“The only clean place here is my desk and it’s still covered in papers. “ she looked at him and set her things down.

“ okay I’ll admit, it’s a bit messy, but we know whether everything is” he leaned back. Just as he said that, Peña who wasn’t paying attention spoke up.

“I can’t find that file from yesterday” he sighed, giving (y/n) the perfect example.

“See!” She looked at Steve.

“Okay fine, we could organize...” he sighed.

I’m so sick of watching am three minutes pass as I go nowhere

After hours of cleaning the office was organized and they found things much easier, so much quicker and efficient. So much so that Javier could ask

“Okay now I need the First Medellin file” he said softly and it was quickly put on his desk.

“See that’s not bad...” (y/n) smiled softly and looked between them.

“But we just wasted so much time doing that” Steve said

“But we are going to save so much more now that it’s organized” she crossed her arms. She was right, organizing the office was the best decision they’d made all year, it helped get things done faster and cleared their minds.

And this is my reaction to everything I fear.

It was a small thing, to organize the office, but when Javier got home he decided to clean the apartment too, washing the bed sheets and making everything up after. Cooking a meal instead of ordering. Just have a day of cleaning up and doing normal people things, it made him sleep better already. The nightmares had calmed down and everything was fine. He was peaceful for a moment, a minute, a few seconds. And then there it was, the scream that made (y/n) drop everything and go to his apartment, he left the door unlocked so it was easy for her to get in and get to his bed side instantly.

“Javier!” She said grabbing his shoulders and shaking him awake. He was starting to sweat again, just as she grabbed him, her touch alone calmed down the terror of his mind, causing him to wake.

“(Y/n)...” he whispered tiredly as he looked at her, she was in a robe, her hair wrapped loosely in a towel.

“Hey buddy” she smiled softly, trying to comfort him in anyway. She didn’t know anything about him but she wanted to try her best to make him feel better, to make him feel weightless.

“What are you doing here...” he asked laying back. She pushed his hair out of his face and massaged his scalp softly as she spoke.

“You screamed and I came as soon as I could... I thought something happened” she answered and watched him, he was gorgeous here, with the moon light covering his glistening chest, highlighting his face and messy hair.

“I’m sorry- I- I didn’t mean too” he said as he sighed.

“It’s okay... I understand... I used to do the same thing after Mexico” she admitted. They barely knew a damn thing but they both felt comfortable with each other.

“How did you get it to stop...” he asked

“Well I did go to therapy but it never seemed to help, so I did what I did as a kid, I get something to read and read till I can’t keep my eyes open, it makes your mind think on the topics of the book rather then the other mess...” she whispered and pulled his covers back over him. He nodded and smiled “I could read to you tonight if you want...”

“You don’t have to do that”

“I don’t mind... get comfy I’ll find something...” she smiled and went to get a book. His eyes trailed her long legs as she walked out to get a book, why did he feel so open and comfortable with her, he just met her.

Cause I’ve been going crazy, I don’t wanna waste a minute here

Taglist: @thinemineours @morgannope @thisis-theway @onabouteverything @blxwjobsforclones @a-dorin @everythinggeeky

This will be a series I hope, so if you want to be tagged in this or more Javier peña stuff please let me know!

#javier peña #Javier peña #Pedro pascal #Javier peña x reader #Javier peña smut #Steve Murphy #narcos #narcos smut #narcos series #Javier peña series #nothing Personal serious

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souichieatr · 4 years

Text

wanna be yours , ch6 p2

where two opposites fall in love

ch6 p1 , ch.7 kindly stfu

a/n: kinda rushed the end bc i didnt wanna make it too long <3 also double upload , word count 918

the whole day suna, semi, tendou, y/l/n and even both the miya twins were all begging for the clock to hit 3 for classes to be done. finally taking one last look at the clock seeing it reads 2:59 all their prayers were answered. tonight had everyone excited, people coming to the concert or not, it is the weekend after all.

hearing the ring everyone jumps up sighing with small 'finallys.’ small chatter being heard in the class, y/n walks to the dark haired male. setting her hands down on his desk “did you actually stay up during the whole class?” scoffing at her “well if i have to tutor you i have to know what im teaching right dummy?” he says grabbing his stuff. as she huffs and walks back to her seat to grab her backpack and her case as he follows. “what time should i be there? i dont trust atsumu” he says, grabbing the handle to her case before she can get a grip. looking at him with an eyebrow raised “uh around 11, i can carry ms lady suna dont worr-'' before she could continue he shakes his head “nah i want to”. giving her a small smile “can you be any slower cmon you said you have practice right? i'll walk you to the third year hallway” he says nudging her. “i have to grab goshiki first if you dont mind walking with me” she says walking out of the class “lead the way” he says.

after the long wait night approaches, looking at his phone reading 10:59 on his screen. the twins on his left and random people jumping on his right to the band playing. after the lights go off, atsumu grabs his shirt and heads to the front yelling about how the band is next. before the lights could turn on a few guitar strings are being strung with a deep yell coming from the speakers. the lights flash on as the the first few words are sung. towards the end y/n starts chanting with the crowd everyone following her lead as she jumps with them. she goes back to her mic as she swats her hair out of her face “hey everyone!!!! how are yall tonight” she greets the audience with a smile, tendou and semi waving to everyone. everyone cheering their answers as she nods “im hearing a lot of goods and okays so hell yeah lets jump into the next song mr semi do the honor” she says adding a dramatic bow at the end. “uh well thank you y/l/n for that lovely greeting, the next song is a new cover of ours and a song both y/n and tendou surprised me with i hope you enjoy as much as i do” he says with a small laugh, looking back to tendou with a nod he starts counting down. semi starting off, immediately sunas eyes light up as he remembers hearing the song. freezing when the chorus hits, the vibe being completely different from what he saw in the mini practice they had. seeing the lights flash behind them and all of them go all out, the sweat running down their necks already and veins in semi’s neck from holding notes. his eyes slowly moving over to y/n widening at the sight, this is her he thought she's in her element. her hands running up and down the neck of the bass as she bops her head to the drums, she's beautiful he thinks.

finishing up 5 more songs the band waves bye to the crowd after thanking them for the good show. “WOW THEY WERE SO GOOD!!” atsumu yells as he exits the front door. “dude why are you so loud?” his brother complains following him. “shut your mouth samu live in the moment” he barks back resting his hands on his hip. shaking his head at them suna looks around “yo why are we waiting shouldnt we head back?” he says, noticing how dark it is. “calm down i wanted to say bye to y/n and say good job jeez ya old man” the blonde says huffing looking away from both of them. “tsumu you owe me top bunk” the grey haired one says taking his phone out before he could do anything its almost knocked out of his hand as his twin grabs his collar. “HUHHH????” he says, “oh cmon you two dont fight” another voice says, the trio turning to see the band with two added people. “y/nnn!” atsumu says letting his brother go running to hug her “you guys were so good im so glad you guys did that semi song” he says as he lifts his head to both guys. as atsumu lets go, osamu gives her a side hug and a ‘good job’ and then suna gives her a hug with a smile, messing up her hair as they let go “nice job dude that was dope”. laughing as she pushes him “thanks for coming man i really appreciate you coming” he nods at her.

after a few nice words the groups goes theres separate ways, y/n wraps her arms around the red haired male as he talks to everyone. as they get to the parking lot semi takes goshiki and y/n home and ushijima and tendou go together, as y/n gets home she hears a bing from her phone smiling at the contact.

facts !

y/n had to carry the conversation with suna and goshiki

ushijima did go but stayed towards the back with goshiki and went backstage with the band

y/n had to convince semi not to wear his mcr shirt before the show

goshiki took pictures of the band and sent them to y/n

tendou and ushijima h*ld h*nds on there way home

suna is now questioning if he admires y/n or has a crush

—taglist

@applekenm , @xhanjisungiex , @astronomyturtle , @sirachano0dles , @yn-tingz , @killmepls-usu , @bakugouswh0r3 , @kageyamas-love , @samtheweirdhuman , @kac-chowsballs , @etheraliwa , @ssunasimpp , @lovelykaia , @yamayoomi , @satomiis , @saikishairclip , @heyheyheyhaikyu , @tycrackculture , @kotwd

#haikyu x reader #haikyu #haikyuu #suna imagines #suna rintaro headcanons #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #hq suna #suna x y/n #suna smau #suna rintarou #haikyuu suna

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pedros-mustache-main · 4 years

Text

crayons & caresses

summary: you know it’s wrong, that pining after your student’s father is wildly inappropriate, but gosh if john deacon isn’t the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

word count: 12k+

warnings: pining to the extreme!, slight angst, discussions of parental death, health scare + medical response, alcohol, language, innuendo, suggestive moments (not 18+ but be mindful)

a/n: mechanic/singledad!john is everything i didn’t know i needed in my life. also: WOW this took me a long ass time because i find john the hardest to write, but i love him so. much. so hopefully it’s worth the wait.

(photo: originally from @davidgayhan i think?? ugh look at him. i drool. yes i did set this during the brief short-perm-montreal moment. sue me)

september, 1981.

you love all of your students equally. each one is like a fingerprint on your heart: unique in their own way, made up of patterns and histories you will never be able to appreciate in full before they are whisked away to their next year. it is safe to say you adore the collection of twenty-four seven year olds who walk into your classroom each morning. their bright faces, some still chubby with baby fat, fill the lonely parts of your soul, and you leave your flat each morning with a sense of purpose and duty. you are their teacher, their guide through some of the most crucial parts of learning. it is an honor and a privilege to teach them—each and every one. but there is one student who sticks out among the rest.

his name is beau deacon.

beau is remarkably quiet. he’s small for his age, both in height and in weight. at times, he appears frail, what with the way he sits by himself in the corner during reading hour, flipping through a picture book with glazed over eyes, never really concentrating on what’s before him. he walks slowly during recess, preferring to stay by himself and drag a stick along the blacktop than play a game of kickball with the other boys. he whispers when he speaks and avoids meeting the eyes of those who do try and pry a few words from him.

you try to engage him—really, you do—but nothing seems to stick. not the participation reward system you build just for him, but use for the entire class. not moving his desk closer to yours. not even coercing your best friend ami to bring in her therapy dogs one afternoon early in the year. despite your best efforts, beau remains decidedly uninterested and removed.

it bothers and worries you to the point of questioning your colleague on the matter. martha is sixty, but spry as ever. she’s been your confidant this last year. you’re new to teaching, green as ever, but she has welcomed you with open arms and a plethora of advice. you feel comfortable sidling up next to her in the car-line one friday afternoon. it’s hot outside, summer not yet allowing autumn to take root, so you hold a hand over your eyes to shade yourself from the sun.

“can i ask you something?” you say, keeping your eyes trained on the children who filter out of the school and into their parent’s waiting vehicles.

“as long as it’s not about sex,” martha mutters. “haven’t had a good romp in so long i don’t even know if it still works the same way.”

you swallow a laugh as a trio of students pass you by. their mother waves over her shoulder, shouting her thanks, before shoving the children in the backseat of a tan mini-van. you watch the van pull away, another car rolling forward to take its place, before asking your question.

“beau deacon,” you start, hoping that, if you simply say his name, martha will fill in the gaps herself.

blessedly, martha twists and nods with a knowing smile. “i know that tyke well. had him last year.”

you release a huff of air in relief. “oh thank goodness. i’m almost beside myself. i don’t know what to do with him.” you frown as you attempt to speak as diplomatically about your student as possible. “he’s awful quiet. he doesn’t play with any of the children and barely looks at me when i speak to him. how’d you manage?”

to your dismay, the older woman just shrugs. “i didn’t really. his mum died all sudden like about halfway through the year, and he clammed up. no matter what i did, what tricks i tried to pull, he stayed completely unmovable.”

“oh.” your shoulders drop in defeat. “i didn’t know.” truthfully, your heart tugs for the child. to lose one’s mother at such a tender age? you can’t imagine the world of hurt he lives in. it’s no wonder he sticks to himself.

“you didn’t speak with his father?”

“no. was i have supposed to?”

“no, not necessarily. mr. deacon was helpful on a few occasions last year. we were sort of a united front, i’d say, when things were particularly bad in the beginning. perhaps give him a call. at least to let him know you’re in his corner.” she smiles and squeezes your bicep. “and you can always come to me, love. i may not have all the answers but i do have some.”

“thank you, martha. i think giving mr. deacon a call might be smart—” you turn at the tell-tale sound of feet dragging against the ground. in the few weeks since classes have started, you’ve grown to know the sound of beau deacon’s footsteps better than your own. he’s always on your mind, the sullen little boy with glasses, so it’s hard not to pounce on him with love when you turn around to see him in the school doorway. “oh! beau! we were just talking about you.”

beau stops walking, and his grip tightens on the straps of his backpack. he doesn’t look up at you, doesn’t say anything. he simply stands there, as if he’s listening but doesn’t know how to respond, so you soldier forward.

“do you have any big plans for the weekend, beau?” you ask.

he shakes his head.

“none with your father?”

another shake of the head.

“well, perhaps you’ll do something fun and you can tell us about it on monday, yeah?”

to your surprise, he nods, which is more than he does most days. you can’t help the smile that claims your lips and the way your arm waves a little too hard to his retreating form. he walks to a faded old corvette and opens the passenger door with ease. you can hear a muffled voice—his father’s no doubt—and see the man stretch his arm out to take beau’s backpack.

but then the car door is shut, and the chevy pulls out of the parking lot with too much speed to be safe when a child is in the front.

you glance at martha. she rolls her eyes and mouths men. you can’t help but agree.

a week passes before you finally find the time to phone beau’s father. you find his name—john richard deacon—and a telephone number in beau’s emergency contact form, shoved amongst a stack of other hastily filled-out parent paperwork. there’s no secondary number listed—not even a distant relative or family friend—so if the call doesn’t work, you aren’t sure what your next move will be. even so, after all the children have left and the other teachers are beginning to close their classrooms for the day, you slouch at your desk and punch the numbers into the phone. it rings three times before someone picks up.

“taylor auto-repair. this is rog.”

the voice on the other end is high and scratchy. you’re taken aback, both by the man on the phone and the blaring rock n roll music in the background. you aren’t an expert, but it sounds like zeppelin. not what you’d expected.

“hello?”

you shake yourself free of surprise, and the wheels beneath your chair scrape against the linoleum floor as you sit forward. “oh, sorry. i thought i was calling the deacon residence?”

“deacon? like john deacon?”

“yes, i’m beau’s schoolteacher. i thought—well, this was the number on the contact form.”

there’s a sigh, and the phone brushes against something rough before rog says anything more. “hold on.” when he speaks next, his voice is distant yet poorly muffled. “deaky! there’s some bird on the phone for you! what have i told ya about putting the shop’s number down instead of the house’s? fuckin’ hell, mate.”

you frown, pressing your fingers to your lips as you wait for... deaky... to take the phone from his co-worker. when a new voice does appear on the line, you again find yourself surprised.

“hello? this is john deacon.” john’s voice is almost lilting, like a song. it’s soft, comforting—though how you determine this from four simple words is beyond your understanding.

“mr. deacon, hi! my name is [y/n] [y/l/n]. i’m beau’s teacher. i thought we might have an over-due chat, if you have the time?”

“oh, hello.” there’s a pause on the other end, as if he’s considering whether or not he’ll entertain your out-of-the-blue phone call. “has beau done something wrong?”

you laugh despite the worried edge to his tone. “no, absolutely not! beau is a delight. he’s practically a model student. however, i do have a few concerns... do you have a moment?”

“yes, i can have. just give me a second.” the line goes muffled again, the only sound a fading rolling stone’s song before all goes quiet. you hear a door shut and the squeak of a chair before john speaks again. “i suppose this is about beau’s shyness?”

you choose your next words carefully, uncertain if john simply cannot accept his son’s retreat into himself or if he does not see it. you’d rather not jump to conclusions and alienate him on your first phone call, but you must admit your unease at hearing the word shyness. beau is far more than shy. despite the frown puckering your brow, you hold your concerns close to your chest for the moment.

“shyness is a word one could use, yes.”

“he’s been that way since his mum died last year.”

rolling your lower lip between your teeth, you nod. “i heard. i’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

john makes a noise somewhere between a huff and a grunt and does not acknowledge your paltry offer of condolence. “if you’re calling to ask how you can fix ‘im, i don’t have any answers for you.”

“i don’t want to fix him, mr. deacon,” you say. “i simply want to help.”

“i’m sure you’ve spoken with mrs. cooper then.” he sighs, and the sound seems to rattle the receiver pressed against your ear. “look, i appreciate what you both are trying to do for beau. but he’s young, and the pain of losing his mum— i just don’t want him to rush into moving on.”

“oh, mr. deacon, that’s not my intention at all!” you wince at the high-pitch of your voice and clear your throat. good lord, this was not going as you’d planned. “i just want him to feel comfortable in the classroom, that’s all.”

“that’s kind of you, but i think it might be easier if you just let beau work it out for himself.”

you fall silent and glance down at the hem of your blouse. there’s a blue thread dangling from the article of clothing, and you pull on it, watching the thread unravel until it falls free from the shirt itself.

in all honesty, you’re puzzled by john’s hesitance to so much as entertain your concern. anyone—student, teacher, classroom parent—who comes across beau knows he’s more than shy. it’s written in his face, in the way he holds himself, in the way he shuffles aimlessly to and fro. god, he breaks your heart. you want to wrap him in a blanket and protect him from the cruel world.

but you’re not his mother. you’re merely his teacher, and you must respect john’s wishes despite how wrong you think they are. perhaps, in time, he will come around, see the need for a little concerted effort in helping beau work through his obvious grief-stricken state.

“is there anything more i can do for you, ms. [y/l/n]?”

clearing your throat again, you sit straighter in your chair and fiddle with a pen on your desk. you click the depressor up and down, up and down. “no, there’s not. i’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

“you didn’t,” john says—and his voice has that indescribable soft quality you noted the moment he first spoke. “really, it does mean something to me that you even thought to call.”

“i care for my students a great deal.” you aren’t sure what brings the words to your lips, but the second they fall past your tongue, a flush crawls up the back of your neck. you’re sure you sound like a petulant child, whining at the mere inconvenience of a rejected idea.

“i can tell.” his tone is anything but salty. in fact, the truth dripping from each word leaves you decidedly flustered. you click the pen faster, your leg bouncing beneath the desk.

“yes—well—i’ll leave you to it.” though you add, “if ever there’s something i can do for beau, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“i’ll be sure to.”

after a rushed goodbye, you drop the phone to its base. the hard-plastic clatters, the coiled wire dropping in a pile on the desk. you press your fingers to your eyelids and groan. both deacon boys, it seems, have the power to infuriate and melt you at the precisely the same moment.

this, you think, does not bode well for the rest of the year.

if you’re being honest, you have to admit that you think of john deacon often as the school year falls into a comfortable rhythm. no matter how hard you try to forget the phone call, forget the way his voice lulled you into a strange sense of serenity, he’s like a specter in the back of your mind: always there and definitely uninvited.

still...

when the children work silently at their desks, you sit behind yours and struggle to keep your mind from wandering to either of the deacon boys. when you greet beau as he walks through the door each morning, you resist the urge to drop a question about his father’s well-being. when the faded red corvette pulls to the curb each afternoon, you bite your tongue and fist your hands at your sides to keep from introducing yourself properly through the open window.

it’s embarrassing, really, how much the phone call with john deacon has affected you. it’s embarrassing how... interested you are in his life. you’re a schoolgirl with a crush—a crush on a man you’ve never even seen! if you were to admit your undue fascination with the deacon household to your best friend ami she would laugh in your face and remind you how desperately you need to get out more. you keep your wonderings and your daydreams to yourself to save her the trouble of telling you what you already know.

come mid-november, when the students are well-adjusted to their daily routine and you’ve learned how to juggle so many personalities at once, you finally pause to take a breath. the breath comes at the end of a school-day. it’s drizzling outside—not raining, but not dry either. the sky is a wash of gray and a deep purple. there’s a storm coming, a bad one too from the looks of it. humming to yourself and contemplating whether or not you should stop by the grocery on your way home, you tug on your jacket and step outside the school into the chilled autumn air.

you’re about to cross the parking lot to your car when you hear a harsh sniffle come from your left. you pause, keys in hand, and twist to see a huddled form on the curb. it’s clearly a student and a young one at that. knees drawn to their chest, backpack large over their back, fingers interlaced on their knees, they are the picture of a frightened schoolchild. the hood of their blue raincoat obscures any defining features, so you hustle to their side and kneel down, but not before glancing at your watch.

nearly four. someone’s been forgotten.

“hey?” you tilt your head to try and catch a glimpse of the face beneath the shade of the jacket hood. “did mum not come through the car line?”

you barely stifle your gasp when the slick raincoat crinkles as the student turns to meet your gaze.

it’s beau deacon.

his eyes are puffy, tears still clinging to his blotchy cheeks. beneath the wide frames of his glasses, fear swims across his gaze. he draws in his lower lip and rubs his hand under his nose. his eyes flicker to the ground, his toes tilting inward.

you press a hand to his shoulder. he feels so small beneath your palm, like a fragile piece of clay, molded by tragedy and loss in such a short span of time. “where’s your father, beau?”

he shrugs. “dunno.”

“i guess he’s running late.” you look at your watch. very late. “should we give him a call?”

beau nods, and you stretch to your full height, offering your hand to help him from the curb. beau does not take it as he stands. he pushes his glasses up his nose and follows you inside the school office where he hesitates in the doorway as you borrow the receptionist’s phone to call the auto-shop.

no one answers.

lowering the phone to its base, you look over your shoulder. through the venetian blinds you can see the sky darkening as you hem-and-haw. in the distance there’s a flash of lightening, and fat raindrops dot the tan sidewalk.

you could leave beau with the receptionist. it’s not uncommon for parents to run late or completely forget about their child. normally, betty calls the child’s guardian and gives the waiting student a granola bar and coloring page or picture book to flip through as they wait for the mortified adult to speed to school. there’s nothing obligating you to stay.

just as there’s nothing obligating you to offer to drive beau home.

you look at betty and calculate the words of your offer. “would it be wrong of me to drive beau home? he lives on my way ‘s all.” boldfaced lie—at least, you think—but what betty doesn’t know can’t hurt her.

betty doesn’t stop clacking on her electronic typewriter. “i don’t think so.” she peers over her glasses at the clock hanging over the door, still typing. “i’ve got a dentist appointment in half an hour, so i don’t have time to wait around today. you’d be doing me a favor, love.”

“alright, it’s settled then.” you slip the thin strap of your purse over your shoulder and turn to beau with a toothy grin. “i’ll drive you home. maybe your father just isn’t feeling well today and overslept?”

beau frowns, and inwardly, you cringe, your smile faltering. beau’s mother died of an illness, so it likely disconcerts him to think of his father in a similar state. in a piss poor attempt at an apology, you grab a piece of chocolate from the bowl near betty’s desk and slip it in beau’s hand as you make your way to the parking lot. the faintest flicker of a grin crosses his face as he methodically unwraps the candy. you take that as a sign of forgiveness.

once beau is snug in the backseat of your station wagon, you pull into traffic with a bubble of giddiness in your stomach. what you’re doing is ridiculous. though you feel horrid beau was left behind, there’s a sick park of you that is glad for it. it’s unlikely you’ll ever meet john deacon unless fate throws you together. he did not attend back to school night, and as a single father, you doubt he has time for any of the other parent-student events on schedule for the rest of the year. in all honesty, you’re taking this opportunity to put a face to the man behind the phone call that’s plagued you with daydreams since it occurred.

if you can just see his face, just learn what he looks like, perhaps the fascination with fade. unless, of course, he turns out to be as attractive as your mind has made him out to be and then you’ll be in even hotter water than you are now.

adjusting yourself in your seat, you glance in the rearview mirror. beau has his head pressed against the foggy glass of the window, his eyes scanning back and forth as he takes in the surrounding scenery. rain droplets create dark shadows over his face, and you wonder if that’s what he feels like on the inside: foggy and rainy and shadowy. you shake the thought free; you read too many melodramatic novels.

“so, beau, what’s your address?” you ask, your tone obnoxiously chipper. he tells you, and you shrug as you tighten your grip on the steering wheel. “gotta give me more than that, hun. do you remember how to get home? do you think you could tell me?”

beau nods and scoots away from the window, leaning nearer the space between the driver and passenger seats. there a gleam in his eye. you catch sight of it as you turn right at his instruction and see him hovering near your shoulder. it seems that with each turn you make his voice inches a decibel louder until you can hear every word with a clarity previously unknown. he’s confident when he’s instructing you, when he knows what he’s supposed to do.

he’s confident when he’s helping.

you tuck the bit of knowledge away for later as you pull into the cracked driveway of a red-brick bungalow. the house is small and unadorned, the homes on opposite sides just as plain and simple. a single spruce tree, like something out of a holiday catalog, is the only foliage in the yard. gauzy curtains are drawn to block the sunlight coming through the two bay windows framing the white front door.

you turn the car off as beau slides across the bench to open the car door. grabbing your handbag, you all but tumble after him, hastening up the sidewalk.

“wait a minute! beau!” you punctuate your call with a breathy laugh and smooth the sides of your hair back as you approach the front door. the bubble of giddiness from moments before has turned to a bubble of nerves, and once again, you realize this moment is entirely ridiculous. still, you adjust your blouse and straighten the crooked edge of your collar.

beau’s left the front door open, his shoes and backpack already tossed on the living room floor. you hesitate at the threshold. you haven’t been properly invited in, but the open door might just be beau’s way of telling you it’s alright to invade his home. at least, that’s the message you decide to take.

crossing the threshold, you hold tight to the strap of your purse and glance around the cramped front living area. beau’s nowhere to be seen, and the home is silent as the grave. you bite the tip of your tongue when your gaze falls over a photograph of a woman holding a baby. it’s beau and his mother; has to be.

maybe... maybe you’ve overstepped your—

“beau, is that you?” the sound of heavy footfalls on stairs snaps your attention away from the photograph. before you can slip away and forget you ever had the silly notion of meeting your student’s father with the intent of something other than a professional hello, a man rounds the corner.

your eyebrows shoot up your forehead. it’s not the john deacon you’d imagined.

he’s shorter than you pictured, only several inches taller than yourself. his jaw is sharp, peppered with a five o’clock shadow, and a thick mustache almost covers his upper lip. a white wife-beater tucked into green trousers completes the ensemble, and his bare feet pad across the floor as he sticks his hand out in greeting.

“you must be the teacher!” he pumps your hand up and down, his grip crushing but his smile wide. his voice is friendly and welcoming, though you can’t be sure it was the voice you heard over the phone. so many days have passed since then, perhaps you just forgot, though it’s highly unlikely.

“i’ve been trying to call deaky ever since i got here, but the damn fool just won’t pick up. i don’t even know where beau’s school is so i couldn’t come and get him myself. the ship we run here isn’t very tight.” he rolls his eyes with a grin. “thanks for bringing him home, darling.”

your head swims as you struggle to keep up with the man’s fast pace. so, he isn’t john deacon? and john deacon isn’t here? you open your mouth to ask the first of several questions but he beats you to it.

“hell, you look positively confused. shut the door, won’t you? the rain’s getting in, and molly was always worried about the the hardwood. i’ll put on the kettle.”

“oh, i don’t—”

he bumps your hip toward the door. “nonsense! deaky will want to thank you for driving beau home.” he’s around the corner before you can refuse, so you shut the front door against the steady rain and slip off your shoes, leaving them beside the two pairs already against the baseboard.

you’re quick to follow him to the kitchen. the walls are a muted yellow, the countertops clear but the sink full of unwashed dishes. the refrigerator in the corner is bare save for the back to school letter you gave to each student to bring home to their parents. that—and a photograph of four men in a basement. it appears to be a homegrown band of sorts, and the man behind the drumkit is shouting at the man who looks like an overgrown string bean. you’re not sure which one is john, so you turn away, feeling rather out of place when the man at the stovetop says:

“beau’s probably in his room. he always holes himself away as soon as he gets back. doesn’t come out until supper. that’s when deaky gets home.” a pair of mugs clatter against each other as he pulls them from a cupboard. “brian says it’s just a phase, that he’ll grow out of it once he processes molly’s death, but i’m not certain.” the man’s eyes flicker to you, and he laughs, loud and short. “oh dear, i’ve done it again! i forgot you’re not in the loop. i’m freddie,” he explains. “part-time nanny, full-time diva.”

you accept the mug of tea as freddie passes it to you, a smile lifting your tight mouth. “[y/n] [y/l/n]. so you’re beau’s... nanny?”

freddie drops to the round kitchen table shoved in the space between the kitchen counter and the wall. you follow suit and stir a drop of sugar in your tea. “you could call it that. i just watch him in the afternoons, between school and deaky getting home.” he sighs. “since molly... well, things have been hard to juggle.”

“i thought mr. deacon picked beau up from school? unless that was you in the car i saw?”

“heavens no! i don’t drive!” freddie laughs again. “that was deaky you saw. he takes his break at the garage long enough to pick beau up and bring him here. i guess he and rog were overrun today. bet beau was terrified. poor dear...”

you glance over your shoulder, down the dim hallway leading to, you assume, beau’s bedroom. there’s a half-full laundry basket deposited outside another open door, perhaps the bathroom. a few mislaid toys litter the carpet. it’s reassuring, knowing that beau has a few good men in his life, willing and ready to raise him. still, there’s a pervading sense of loneliness throughout the bungalow. you saw it in the photos on the living room wall, but it’s here too: in the dead roses, brittle to the touch, in the table vase; in the index-card note tucked on a notch in the cupboard, the feminine handwriting unreadable from your spot at the table.

freddie’s voice is somber when its breaks through the thick air. “complications of pneumonia,” he says, following your gaze to a wedding photo on the hallway wall. “it came on quick but didn’t last long, thank heaven.”

unbidden, tears prick the corners of your eyes. you’ve never felt more like an intruder—and you know why.

your crush on john deacon is misplaced. you see that now. realizing what you’ve done in coming here—twist a child’s terrified moment of abandonment for your gain—makes you sick to your stomach. what kind of person are you? assuming a recently widowed father would be at all interested in his son’s pesky teacher? the thought brings a flush to your cheeks, and you rise from the table all too fast. the mugs of tea wobble when your knee connects with the underside of the table.

freddie frowns at you. “you okay, love?”

“i—” how to explain yourself without sounding a total fool or heartless woman? “i think i’ve overstayed my welcome” is all that comes to mind, and you aren’t surprised when freddie uses his foot to push your chair back out from under the table.

“sit down. john will be home soon. let him thank you then you can go.”

from where you stand, you look to your right. the front door practically screams for you to politely decline freddie’s insistence and high-tail it to your car, to get out while you still have the chance. but he’s making it too easy to stay for what you’ve come for: a peek at the illusive john deacon. you know you should go, that you should leave well enough alone, but despite your best intentions, you find yourself sitting down again and allowing freddie to bombard you with questions about teaching life.

half an hour later, when your sides hurt from laughing while freddie regales you with the dramatic story of beau’s birth, the door to the garage opens and closes with a loud click. you twist in your seat, arm draped over the back, and bite your lip hard to keep from drawing in a sharp breath.

by god, he’s a stone-cold looker. better than you could have imagined.

john deacon stands in front of the garage door, his head of tight curls wet from the rain. he’s tall but not towering, his shoulders made broad by the leather jacket across his back. he hasn’t noticed you or freddie as he’s too preoccupied with wiping the grease on his fingers across a piece of soiled cloth. he turns, not towards you, but towards the hallway when beau tumbles out of his room with a shout of joy. beau races down the hall, his arms extended, and jumps into his father’s waiting embrace. john mumbles something in his son’s ear, ruffling his hair, before dropping him back to the ground. the sullen little boy jumps around his father’s feet, chattering in great detail about his day at school, though he forgoes mentioning his father’s absence in the car-line.

you exhale, a wash of new tears covering your eyes as you stare at beau. he can be happy. you’d thought it impossible.

you must have exhaled louder than you thought because john looks over at the sound. his brow tightens in a frown of confusion, his eyes flicking back and forth between yourself and freddie, but freddie is quick to explain. he stands from the table and takes your hand, pulling you to your feet.

“deaky, this is [y/n] [y/l/n], beau’s teacher. remember you spoke to her on the phone?”

your cheeks heat at the thought of him mentioning the phone call beyond the walls of the auto-shop. warmth spreads over your face even further when he gives you a tight-lipped smile and extends his hand. you slip your fingers over his palm, and he shakes your hand.

for a moment, your hands linger as john glances at beau, who is tucked behind his leg. he cringes, groaning. “please tell me you didn’t go out of your way to bring beau home today?”

you drop your hand from his and clasp your fingers before your waist. scrunching your nose, you tilt your head to the side. “well...”

“bloody hell,” john murmurs. he screws his eyes shut and runs a palm down his face. “i’m sorry,” he says. “you shouldn’t have had to do that.”

“it was no trouble, really. in fact, you live on my way home.” the comment isn’t a falsehood. you’d realized as beau pointed his way home that your flat lie only a minutes down the road. just as it had then, the realization sends a nervous clench to your stomach now. the thought of the deacons so close...

“you must think me a horrible father.” as he says this, john reaches around to smooth his hand across beau’s back. the gesture, done mindlessly, almost makes you laugh. how could anyone find him a horrible father?

“absolutely not, mr. deacon.”

the corner of his mouth twitches upward in something close to a smile. “john, please.”

you roll your lips together and blink rapidly to keep your eyes from going wide. john. “lots of people miss the car-line. it happens more often than you think.”

“well, let me give you something for your trouble.” he slides past you, the scent of cologne and car oil in his wake. his movements are stiff, hampered by beau who insists on clinging to his father’s leg, his ankles crossed over john’s foot.

“i don’t want anything, john.” you almost trip over his name. it tastes good, strong and steady. god, you’ve got it bad. “it wasn’t a hassle.”

john ignores you as he slides open a kitchen drawer. unsatisfied with its contents, he reaches for another before meeting your eyes with a wry smile. “all we’ve got is take-out menus anyway.” he shuffles nearer, beau still heavy on his leg. “thank you, ms. [y/l/n], for bringing him home. i got sidetracked at the shop and—” he sighs. “anyway, just... thanks.”

“again, you’re welcome—and call me [y/n].”

there’s a moment where you’re simply staring at one another, the room around you lulled to a comfortable silence. john is handsome, of this there is no doubt. perhaps he’s not striking in a classical way but you’re sure someone would have killed to chisel a bust of his face during the sixteenth century. it’s regal and sure in all the right places, but soft where it counts: around the eyes. when he chuckles at something freddie says, his eyes fold around the edges, and your heart all but gives out.

“what do you say, [y/n]?”

“sorry?” hopeful no one caught you ogling, you bring your attention front and center, turning to freddie. his proposal dawns on you a second too late to be anything but obvious. “stay for dinner? no, i can’t do that.”

“why not?” freddie reaches out to pinch your forearm. “it’s our way of saying thanks, and neither of us will try to poison you with our cooking. we’ll just have brian bring something ‘round.”

you shake your head and scoot around freddie to lift the handbag hanging from a kitchen chair. “i’d like to, but i’ve stayed too long already. perhaps another time.”

prying beau from his leg, john trails behind freddie as you make your way to the front door. freddie wishes you well, reminding you to drop by any time, and john simply lifts his hand in a motionless wave. on the front stoop, hair tangled around your face by a sharp wind, you lean your torso across the threshold.

“mr. deacon—i mean, john,” you say quickly, willing your voice to sound stronger than you feel. “if you’d like, i can drive beau home in the afternoons. i live not five minutes from here, and it wouldn’t be any trouble.”

john hesitates. beau stands in the kitchen, his head poked around the corner. john looks over at his son then back at you. “that’s a kind offer, but i like coming to the school.”

your eyes flick to beau, to his round, soft face and intelligent eyes. yes, if you were his mother you’d enjoy coming to pick him up too.

with a nod, you retreat into the wind. “well, the offer still stands.”

as you slide into your car and pull out of the driveway, waving to beau who now stands in the doorway, you hope against hope that john will accept the offer one day—just so long as it means you get to see him again.

he calls during the middle of show-and-tell. you nearly forgo the call as abby sinclair insists on lifting her pet toad for all to see and you’re worried she’ll drop it, but you’re waiting for a message from the front desk—missing package again—so you pick up on the last ring.

“hello?”

“hi, ms. [y/l/n]. it’s john deacon. is this a bad time?”

“oh, mr. deacon!” you wince at the delight coloring your voice and tear your eyes away from abby, who has handed her toad off to max. “i was expecting a call from the front office.”

he snorts out a rushed laugh. “sorry to disappoint.”

you brush a lock of hair behind your ear. “no, not at all.” out of the corner of your eye you catch max squeezing abby’s toad between his palms, and you push the phone away from your ear. “oy! max, knock it off! abby, please put the toad back, dear?”

john is chuckling on the other end of the line when you return to the call. “sorry,” you say. “show-and-tell.”

“i know. beau was excited this morning.”

with a smile, you glance at the boy in question. “he did very well. everyone was impressed with what he brought.”

“brian made that for him as a birthday gift, so he can’t take any of the credit.”

“he didn’t! he explained who made the planets, but he did want to be clear about who painted the stars.” you hesitate, the sound of laughter over your shoulder reminding you not to get too entangled by the sound of john’s voice. “is there something i can do for you, mr. deacon?”

“right, yes. well, it’s a bit awkward... do you remember a few weeks ago when you drove beau home?”

you nod, the memory lifting from your heart with ease. how could you forget? you only replay the evening like a film every night before you fall asleep. “of course”

“do you remember offering to drive him home again?”

“yes.”

“i’m in a jam at the shop and can’t leave this afternoon. would you mind? taking him home, that is.”

you answer without hesitation. “i can do that. it’s not a problem.”

“you’re a life-saver. it’s just with freddie not driving... i guess what i mean to say is thanks. it helps me out a lot.”

“i’m happy to do it, john.”

“i promise i’ll make it worth your while this time. proper take-out and all.”

“you really don’t have to do that,” you say, hoping he does anyway.

“no, freddie will insist. i’ll let you get back to class for now. thanks, [y/n].”

“don’t mention it. good luck with your jam at the shop. i hope it’s cleared up soon.”

“me too. all the sooner to get back to beau—and you.”

he hangs up before you can respond, and you’re left with your jaw scraping the floor and your heart in your throat.

all the sooner to get back to you.

the words circle your head like a drug for the remainder of the day. you can barely focus as you teach, stumbling over your words and through math equations and spelling tests.

surely he didn’t mean it like that. he probably just tacked you on at the end of the sentence in his haste to get back to work. he probably wasn’t thinking when he spoke.

but, by god, you were listening.

you’ve never been so head-over-heels for a man in your life. each day when you wake up with john at the forefront of your mind, you wish for a morning where you can stay in bed and dream of him all day—his voice, his smile, his gentle way with beau. it all makes you crazy. ami calls your fascination puppy love and claims it will fade with time, but you wonder if it’s gone deeper. you’re interested in more than john deacon’s looks. you’re interested in what makes him tick and whether or not he’s in a band with the three other men who constantly appear in every conversation you share and whether or not he misses his wife and what his hair looks like when he wakes up in the morning. you what to know him and be known by him.

all the sooner to get back to you.

perhaps it’s wishful thinking—a dreamy idea on the part of a lovesick woman—but part of you wonders if he feels the same way about you.

driving beau home becomes part of an unspoken routine. after sharing dinner at the deacon household that second evening, john admits when walking you to your car how overwhelmed he can feel between his job at the auto-shop and his responsibilities with beau. with a tentative hand on his forearm, you promise you’ll help lighten the load. he thanks you by squeezing your fingers with his, and then he’s gone.

it begins by driving beau home every monday, wednesday, and friday. you enjoy your time with him. as soon as he settles in the back seat of your station wagon, he comes alive. the protective shell he wears in the classroom is replaced by the bright and earnest eyes of a seven year old boy, curious about the world and all it has to hold. he asks you questions and tells you stories, and you laugh as you watch the light dance in his eyes. he’s a sweet child, and you truly treasure the afternoons you spend with him.

one friday, you drop him off and find the cozy bungalow empty. beau has stopped retreating to his room once returning from school—at least, this is what freddie tells you—so you’re not completely surprised when beau invites you in for an afternoon snack. you are surprised by the empty house, however. freddie is nowhere to be seen and neither is john. what concerns you even further is when beau opens the refrigerator and slams it shut with a huff.

“nothin’,” he mutters, slumping to the table with a groan.

“what?”

“there’s nothing in the fridge.”

“what do you mean by that?” you cross the floor and open the fridge, hoping beau’s comment is nothing more than a hungry child displeased with the array of choice and nothing to his liking, but you find his statement to be true. the fridge is woefully stocked—naught but a half-filled carton of orange juice, three apples, and a sandwich wrapped in tinfoil. you glance over your shoulder. “is it always like this?”

“no.” beau circles about on his chair. “but it’s happened a few times since dad and uncle rog got more busy at the shop.”

“well, that won’t do. grab your shoes, beau, we’re going to the market.”

once returned from your grocery run, you teach beau how to make spaghetti. he stands beside you on a stool, pushed up on his toes as he watches you prepare the boiling water and pasta. as you wait for the pasta to soften, you set about crafting a homemade pasta sauce. it’s your mother’s recipe, and it’s easy to make. easy enough that you allow beau to carefully slice the tomatoes under your supervision and dice the onions and sprinkle the spices.

the kitchen smells like your childhood: fragrant yet simple, sweet and comforting. somewhere in the waiting for the sauce to simmer, beau turns on a radio and draws you to the center of the kitchen. he holds your hand tight and kicks his feet to the music. you laugh and mirror his movements. he grabs your other hand and steps on his stool, forcing you to bend in an awkward twirl around his finger. you struggle but complete the movement, though he attaches himself to your shoulders like a barnacle. you whirl around on your socked feet in attempt to toss him off, but he holds tight, his fingernails digging into the skin of your collarbone. he squeals in your ear, a mixture of laughter and gasping breath and shrieks.

“mama, mama, stop!”

he says it without thinking, his head lolling against your shoulder as you stop short at the sound of his breathless voice. he giggles against your back then releases himself and slides to the floor. you stare at him, feel his words in the back of your throat like an uncomfortable burn, and then you hear the garage door shut.

you swallow hard and force your eyes from the yellow-and-white linoleum floor. beau hops from his stool, sauce-covered spoon in hand, and rushes to his father’s side.

“daddy, look, we made dinner! miss [y/l/n] and me!” he tugs on john’s shirtsleeve, but john’s just staring at you, his face unreadable. beau turns to one of the other three men crowding the hall behind john. “uncle roggie, taste it!” he forces the spoon in the face of a mulleted blond.

eager to break the thick tension, you motion to the spaghetti. “i—there wasn’t anyone home so...” your sentence trails off, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

so many eyes on you. you feel exposed against them all, caught in a domestic moment with a child that’s not your own in a home that’s not your own.

john looks over his shoulder, eyes flashing in anger. “fred?”

freddie winces. “about that, deak.” he rubs the back of his neck and glances at beau. “i can explain later.”

“you’d better,” john mutters.

“i should go,” you say at once, hastily grabbing your things from the table. your keys jingle in your hand with the force of your anxiety, and you stub your toe against the floor in your hurry to put your shoes back on.

john’s hand on your arm stops you. you look up, stooped as you try to slip the back of your sandal over your heel. he looks down at you, face still remarkably unreadable. “no, please stay,” he says. “you made supper.”

you shake your head and rise to your full height. “i’ve intruded enough already.”

you’re embarrassed, too. the gaggle of men heard beau’s slip up; they heard him mistake you for his mother—and certainly they saw the immediate flush of happiness rise over your cheeks at the sound.

mama. you’d always hoped, always wished, someone would call you that one day. you just didn’t think you’d hear it from a student with a deceased mother and a father you pined after first.

“[y/n], stay.” john’s voice is soft, breathy, and his eyes flit back and forth between yours with a startling amount of intensity.

how can you say no?

once the dinner has been divided, you sit beside john on the couch in the living room. the kitchen table is too small to host the gathering, so the living room was deemed appropriate just this once, to beau’s great delight. he sits on the floor at the coffee table, a tall glass of milk beside his plate of pasta, his eyes bouncing over everyone in the room with unrestrained joy.

“beau, why don’t you introduce everyone for miss [y/l/n]? she doesn’t know all your uncles.” john nods to his son in encouragement, and beau is only happy to take the job.

standing, beau crosses first to the impressively tall and curly-haired man sat beside him on the floor. “this is uncle brian. he likes space and teaches all the big kids at uni.”

he moves to freddie, who sits on a plush armchair. “this is uncle freddie, but you already know him.”

the last man leans against the foyer table, his ankles crossed and sunglasses still perched on his nose. beau pats his arm. “this is uncle roger and he works with daddy.” in a stage whisper, he adds, “he thinks he’s a lot cooler than he really is.”

roger guffaws and lightly pushes beau’s head to the side. “oy, you twerp, take that back!”

glancing about the room, you nod in greeting. “it’s nice to meet you all. i’ve heard quite a bit.”

brian smiles at you from the floor. his legs are bent awkwardly beneath the coffee table, and you’ve noticed the way he helps beau cut his side salad and keep sauce from dripping to the area rug. “all good things i hope?”

“oh yes, of course.”

“[y/n], dear, you really must tell brian what that student of yours did last week,” freddie pipes up. “it had me laughing well into the night. i’m sure some of his twenty-year olds are much the same.”

“i shouldn’t, fred.” you look at beau, who is watching you in interest.

freddie nods in understanding and tugs on his earlobe. “little ears, yes. maybe another time.” he pushes brian’s shoulder with his foot. “really is a riot of a story.”

as supper progresses, conversation twists and turns down different avenues. you explain how you came to teach in the area and find you used to work with one of brian’s newer colleagues. freddie tells the group about his recent run-in with an angry bird watcher in the park. his gestures are so grandiose he whacks roger in the chest, who has come to sit on the arm of fred’s chair. there’s more laughter than there is silence, and you settle back in the couch. at one point, john drapes his arm over the back of the couch—not around your shoulders, but close enough to send your heart into overdrive. it’s all you can focus on—the proximity of his muscular arm behind your head—as brian explains to beau the difference between the big and little dippers. even as roger describes the ramshackle band they four participate in on the weekends, you barely register the words because you swear to the high heavens you feel john’s pointer finger purposefully brush against your shoulder.

beau begins to yawn sometime near the eight o’clock hour, and you jump from the couch when you realize you’ve stayed so late.

“good lord, i’ve got to go!” you shuffle about the room, gathering your belongings, as john rises behind you. “i didn’t know it was so late!”

his hands are in his pockets, and he studies you as you put your shoes on. “got a big date tomorrow?”

you frown. “no,” you say on a laugh. “i’ve actually got breakfast with my mum.”

he looks away for a moment, but you can’t help but note the edge of a smile.

he grabs his jacket from the coat-stand when you’re ready. “i’ll walk you out.”

at the door you wave to the others. “good night, all! it was nice to meet you.”

roger tips an imaginary hat. “i’m sure we’ll meet again, [y/n], if deaky has anything to say about it.”

freddie kicks the back of roger’s leg, and the injured man doubles over in a yelp of pain. “you fucker!” freddie mutters. “you know that—”

john ushers you out the door before you can see or hear any more.

the night air is chilly, and you warm your arms around yourself. you reach for your keys in the depths of your purse and slide them into the lock on the driver’s side of your car. it’s dark out. you can barely make out john’s features beneath the light of the moon, but when he shuffles to the side, an automatic flood light turns on above the garage. you blink against the sudden light and smile, chuckling beneath your breath as your vision adjusts. you’re not eager to leave quite yet, and he doesn’t seem eager to send you away, so you both stand, looking at one another in the darkness of the drive.

“your friends are nice,” you say.

he hums in agreement. “m’yes, they are. we just started as a screw-around band a few years back, but when molly got sick...” he pauses, clasps his hand on the back of his neck, and shrugs. “they’ve been my lifeline, y’know?”

“i can’t imagine what that was like, losing her. i’m glad you had them around.” you suck in a deep breath. “about earlier... i didn’t know beau was going to say that, and i’m sorry it happened. i realize that my... involvement might appear to be me wheedling my way into your family, but that’s not it, really! i mean, i like you and beau—as friends—but i’m not trying to...” you sigh, shaking your head. “i’m sorry it happened ‘s all. i don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

before you know what’s happening, john’s reaching out to cup your cheek. his smile is soft in the glow of the moon and the floodlight, and your heart stops in your chest.

his thumb brushes over your cheekbone. “i haven’t seen beau that happy in a long time. you’ve brought a lot of joy back into the house, [y/n].”

you’re sure you’re sweating despite the chill of night. you shake your head, but his hand holds fast against your face. “no,” you whisper. your voice sounds heady, even to your own ears. “beau’s just a good kid.”

“yes, and you’re a good teacher.”

is his face inching closer? you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe.

“a good teacher and a good person.”

if it weren’t for your firm hold on the car door handle, you think you might slip to the ground in a puddle of goo.

his lips are on yours, then, and you fall into his arms as he holds you against himself. you have dreamt of this moment far too many times to count, but you never thought it would happen. really, you thought you would finish the year without ever knowing the taste of john’s deacons lips.

but there he is, and there you are, and he tastes like the wine he drank during supper. he is more eager than you thought he would be, and soon he has your back pressed against the door of your car. you huff into his mouth and feel your eyes roll back into your head when he drags his lips across your jaw, inching closer to that spot behind your ear. your arms practically quiver around his shoulders, and you open your eyes long enough to catch a glimpse of a particularly bright star winking down at you.

he catches your lips again, and you feel hot and delicious all over.

“john,” you mumble against his mouth. “john.”

loathe as you are to stop the moment, you do, pushing his shoulders until he pulls himself away. his hand still cradles your hip, and he looks flushed in the moonlight. you’re sure you look equally as rumpled.

you grin. “well.”

he matches your smile, though it’s fleeting. “call you, yeah?”

unlocking your car door, you nod. “please do, mr. deacon.”

he shakes his head on a chuckle and shuts the door, waving gently as you pull out of the drive. when you’re several homes away, out of eyesight, you drift to the side of the road and blast the air conditioner. then you pound your fists against the steering wheel and let out a muffled squeal of delight.

he doesn’t call you.

when you sit down to think about it, it’s not that great of a surprise. you’ve been around him only a handful of times, and though you’ve both been comfortable in those moments, you don’t blame him for resisting whatever it is he feels for you. there’s beau to think about. you’re his teacher; surely there’s some line you shouldn’t be crossing? there’s molly too, and her memory and the years they spent together and the child they had together.

if anything, you figure he’s using you to test the waters of romance again. those stolen touches and deep stares and that kiss in the drive—it’s all just experimentation. the conclusion drawn from those experiments? he’s not ready.

you sigh, take another sip of wine. maybe you should stop driving beau. you like john; you like him a lot. and after that kiss, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. you thought about him before, but never this much. he threatens to consume your every waking moment, and it scares you because he’s not interested. desperately pining after a disinterested man means one thing: ruin. if you stop driving beau home, put some distance between yourself and the deacons, the puppy love and infatuation will fade over time.

it has to or you’ll go crazy.

it’s early evening, and your stomach grumbles. your flat is quiet as you putter around the kitchen in search of a suitable supper. there’s not much in the cupboards and even less in the fridge. you desperately need to go to the grocery store. take-out it is. withdrawing a handful of menus, you spread them out on the counter and flip through them mindlessly.

your thoughts are elsewhere. always on john.

you wonder what compelled him to kiss you. he’s an enigma, john deacon. you’ve seen him in moments of great levity—when he’s around beau or his friends or recounting a story from his youth. he has an infectious laugh, delightful crinkles around his eyes, and a quick wit. but he can be hard, too, like an immovable stone. he’s quick to toss a glare at anyone in his way in those moments of weakness, and his biting wit can turn sour at the drop of a hat. you chalk it up to weariness, those moments. weariness, loneliness, frustration. it doesn’t phase you, though perhaps it should.

with a groan, you drop your forehead to the cool counter and shut your eyes. the kiss lingers on your lips; it has the entire week since. you want him badly—in more ways than one.

the telephone rings, and you startle, clutching a paper menu to your chest. “fuck,” you whisper. you need to get a hobby other than daydreaming. pressing the phone to your ear, you barely get out a word of greeting before someone’s shouting at you on the other end.

“[y/n]? it’s fred! we’ve got a fuckin’ problem over here.”

you frown. “freddie? what’s going on? why are you are john’s? it’s a saturday.”

“no time for that! how fast can you get here?”

“well, i don’t know. i’ve got to—”

“beau’s sick! he’s on the bathroom floor, moaning and groaning and—shit!—[y/n], i don’t know what to do!”

“i’m sure it’s just a tummy ache, fred,” you say. “i see it all the time in my class. give him some pepto and he’ll be fighting fit in the morning.”

“no, [y/n]!” something in fred’s tone—a raw, animal fear—has you standing straight, your heart stuttering in your chest. “he said he feels like he’s gonna die just like molly did!”

“okay, okay.” you begin to move toward your bedroom, but are yanked back by the phone chord attached to the wall. you stumble backwards with a grunt. “okay, i’m coming, fred. just hold tight.”

“fucking hurry!”

you slam the phone down, rush to your bedroom to change from your nightclothes, and jump in the car without a pair of shoes. as quickly as you can you race to the deacon household. the sun dips low, casting an orange glow over the suburban streets lined with family cars. you grip the steering wheel tight, your heart thumping a prayer of protection for beau.

the driveway of the bungalow is empty, the garage door thrown open. the old convertible john toys with in the evenings is parked inside, but his everyday vehicle is gone. cutting the engine of your car, you run through the garage and into the house. fred stands in the hallway, pressed against the bathroom door. he looks ridiculous, clad in a bright yellow bathroom and bunny slippers, but he pounds his fist against the door, pleading for beau to unlock it and let him in. he turns at the sound of your bag dropping on the carpet.

“oh, thank god,” he breathes. he grabs your arm and wrenches you to his side. “beau, miss [y/l/n] is here. why do you talk with her, huh?”

before you say anything to beau, you frown at freddie. “where’s john?” your whisper sound harsh in the dim lighting of the hallway.

“at the shop. overtime. i can’t reach him.”

you jerk your head to the phone sitting on a side-table in the living room. “go try again and i’ll stick with beau here.” when he’s gone, you slide to a sitting position on the floor and press your ear to the thin wood of the door. “beau? beau, honey, it’s me.”

beau only groans in response.

“beau, can you please open the door? i want to help you. that’s it; just help.”

there’s a pause then you hear: “no. go away.”

“it’s okay if you’re embarrassed, beau. we all get sick sometimes. fred and i just want to help you feel better.”

there’s the sound of water sloshing and then a hard sniff. “i want my mommy.”

“oh, baby, i know.” you clear your throat to work past the lump rising to the surface. “come on, just let me in. i promise it’ll be okay.”

“but... what if i die like her too?”

“that’s not gonna happen, beau. i promise.” he doesn’t respond, so you plead once more. “please let me in.”

he shuffles to the door, unclicks the lock, and cracks it open. through the opening, you can see his pale face gleaming with sweat. gently, you push the door open further.

beau’s curled on the floor, his head bent toward his knees. his arms tighten around his stomach, and a spasm ripples through his body. he’s dripping with sweat, his star wars pajamas soaked through. hot air clogs the room, and you switch on the overhead fan. pressing your fingers to his forehead, you cringe and draw back. he’s burning up.

“beau, baby, what hurts?” you finger some of the sweat-matted hair away from his forehead.

“my tummy.”

“what’s your tummy feel like?”

beau shakes his head into the floor. “bad.”

“do you feel like you’re gonna be sick?”

“already did. on my floor.” he opens his eyes long enough to stare at you through thick lashes. “i’m sorry.”

“don’t apologize about that. we’ll get it cleaned up later. i’m just gonna go get you some water, okay?”

he groans, shifting against another spasm of pain. “okay.”

stepping back into the hall, you grab freddie’s arm before he can slip into the bathroom. you tug him to the safety of the kitchen. his eyes dance between yours, expectant.

“well?”

“did you get ahold of john?”

“no, the fucker.”

“we’ll have to go pick him up then.”

fred’s brow twitches. “what? why? what’s wrong with him?”

you throw a glance down the hall when beau whines. “i think it might be his appendix. my dad’s burst last summer and he looked a lot like beau does now.”

“fuckin’ hell.” freddie runs a hand across his mouth. “just what deaky needs.”

you nod in agreement. “i know. we’ve got to take beau to a hospital, though, before it gets any worse.”

“yeah, yeah, i know. go get the car started and i’ll meet you in a minute.”

several minutes later, you’re en route to the auto-shop, freddie cradling beau in the backseat of your station wagon. the drive is tense, your bare foot hard on the gas pedal. beau wrestles and whines against freddie’s hold, continuously asking for his parents and where you’re taking him.

no one wants to say the word hospital, so his cries go unanswered.

freddie directs you to the auto-shop, his phrases terse, and you pull into the drive with a sharp squeal of tires on gravel. with the car still running, you hurry across the parking lot, loose pebbles catching on your feet. music blasts from a stereo within the garage. it’s loud and obnoxious and keeps you from locating john fast enough.

“can i help ya, miss?” a lithe man steps out of a side office, his hairline receding and face near gaunt.

“yes—i’m looking for john deacon.”

the man continuously wipes his hands on a dirty rag. none of the oil and grease on his fingers budges. “he’s down there.”

dirt and grime covers the bottoms of your feet as you race down the shop. cars of all varieties line the wall to your left, some stationary on the ground, others lifted towards the vaulted ceiling. there’s a handful of men at work, but you don’t recognize any of them as john. you’re prepared to start shouting his name when a familiar voice stops you.

“[y/n]?” it’s roger. “can’t get enough of our deaky, can you?” he’s chuckling as he steps out from behind a truck. “what are you doing here?”

“it’s beau,” you say, and his face falls.

“over here.” roger wastes no time in finding john beneath a volkswagon beetle. only john’s legs are visible, his knees bent and leather boots firm on the floor. he curses when roger hooks the toes of his shoes around a curve in the sliding plate on the floor and drags john out from under the car.

“what the fuck, rog? i—” john stills when his eyes land on you. his muscle tee is loose over his chest, and a line of grease mars his forehead. he swallows. “[y/n]... i...” he sits up. “i’ve been meaning to—”

though you’re curious about the end of his sentence, you cut him off. “beau’s sick. we’ve got to take him to hospital.”

the blood drains from john’s face in an instant. the wrench in his hand clatters to the cement ground, and he’s grabbing your elbow, pulling you toward the exit, before you can say anything more.

“crystal, i’m gone!” he shouts, practically shoving you in the direction of the car.

there’s either no reply or you don’t hear it because john shouts for freddie to move the fuck over and give him beau. you slide behind the wheel and pause, twisting to catch a look at the scene in the back.

beau looks like a newborn swaddled in his father’s arms. his face is wet with tears and sweat, and he sobs in his father’s grasp. john feels beau’s forehead and frowns, muttering an oath under his breath. then his eyes flick to yours.

“what are you waiting for? go!”

you don’t need to be told twice.

it’s another fifteen minutes before you reach the hospital. your head throbs under the stress of it all: beau’s pitiful moans for help, john urging you to go faster, freddie barking directions as he slaps the headrest behind you. before you’ve pulled to a complete stop, john is out, beau in his arms. you shoo freddie after him.

“go! i’ll park the car.”

by the time you’ve found a parking space and picked your way across the parking lot, beau’s been admitted for emergency surgery. his appendix, as you suspected. it’s a routine procedure, and he’ll be fine within the next hour. relief floods your system at the news, and you find john and freddie sitting beneath a large fish tank in the waiting room. you take the open spot beside john and cross your ankles.

“your feet are disgusting,” fred says. he points to the bottoms of your feet, dark with dust, dirt, and grime.

you shrug. “forgot shoes.”

the quiet of the waiting room is both a comfort and annoyance. a clock on the wall ticks loudly, and the fish tank bubbles at an uneven rate. every breath you take feels too loud, and the antiseptic smells cling to the inside of your nose.

still, the quiet gives you a moment of rest. you catch your breath. you let the knowledge of skilled and capable doctors working on beau ease your heart-rate. it will all be okay; he’s going to be okay.

you glance at john. his fist is pressed against his mouth, his eyes shut. his leg bounces, and you dare to reach over and lay your hand against his knee. he stills, his eyes flashing to you.

“he’s going to be okay, john.”

on the other side of john, freddie jumps to his feet. “i’m going bananas just sitting here.” he rubs the side of his head. “might burst. i’m gonna give brian a call.” he stalks away, his bunny slippers slapping against the linoleum floor.

you shake your head, biting back the urge to smile.

but then john’s fingers curl around yours, and you can’t help but give into the grin.

you look up, meet his eyes.

“i didn’t call you,” he says.

“no, you didn’t.”

he shifts in seat and looks to the floor. “you should be wearing shoes.”

at the turn of conversation, you frown then follow his gaze. “yes, i suppose.”

“take mine.” he releases your hand to bend down and undo his laces.

“no, john, don’t be silly. i’m fine.”

“please, [y/n], take the shoes.” he slides the boots toward you, and you begrudgingly slip your feet into the warmth of his shoes.

you look silly, the pair of you—your ill-fit mtv t-shirt, loose jeans, and oversized leather boots; his muscle tee with the aptly faded word muscle scrawled across the chest, his faded jeans, and socked feet. one of his toes pokes through the end of his sock, and his exposed arms look cold in the frigid air of the waiting room. you laugh.

“we look like a pair of bikers or something.”

the corner of his mouth twitches upward. “not much of a biker. that’s crystal’s territory.” he doesn’t look at you when he continues speaking. “i’m sorry i didn’t call.”

on a sigh, you drag the boots across the carpet. though it pains you to do so, you let him off the hook. “it’s not a big deal, john. it was just a kiss. no promises.”

“i know.” his head tilts to the side. “but i wanted to call you. nearly did twice, but i chickened out.” he turns, then, and meets your eye. “i like you, [y/n].”

you smile, but know it doesn’t reach your eyes. still, you reach for his hand again. “i like you too, john. i’ve enjoyed getting to know you and your family.”

he shakes his head, and when he speaks, his voice is firm. “no, i like you. that’s why i kissed you and that’s why i didn’t call. because you make me so bloody nervous.”

your shoulders drop, as does your jaw.

“ever since you dropped beau off that first time, i’ve been thinking about you and about you and him together and then he called you mum and i saw the way you acted with him and—” he pauses for a breath. “molly was different with beau. i mean, she loved him, but she was always so fragile and worried and—and that’s not the point! the point is that you make beau happy and you make me happy. and i want to be happy again.”

“john...”

his grip on your hand tightens as he leans closer. “make me happy, yeah? i’m stubborn as a mule and shy, too, but i want you—badly.”

the fire in your heart spreads at his words. it spreads throughout your body until you feel like you could burst and shine a light into even the darkest corners of the earth. a laugh bubbles forth from between your lips. you lift a hand to stifle it.

“you want to know something?” you ask.

“what?”

“i’ve been pining after you, john deacon, ever since i heard your voice over the phone. i was content to just wallow in my daydreams, but this seems better.” you lift your fingers to brush his chin. “a lot better.”

“i can’t promise i’ll make a good boyfriend. i’m pretty rusty.”

“me too. we can be rusty together.”

he grins, leans forward further, his nose brushing yours. “can’t promise there won’t be hiccups. i’ve got baggage.”

“i can carry it.”

he kisses you, his hand on the back of your head, keeping you firm against his mouth. you grin, your teeth knocking his as you laugh. his curls are soft against your fingertips, and you hold on for dear life when he chuckles into your smile.

“mr. deacon?”

john kisses you once, twice more, before pulling away to look at the doctor. “yeah?” he doesn’t sound the least bit embarrassed to be caught in such a position in the middle of a hospital waiting room, but you hide your face against his neck. your cheeks hurt your smile is so wide.

“beau’s ready to see you now.”

john stands and extends at hand. “comin’, dove?”

your footfalls are hard against the ground, the boots heavy around your ankles, as you walk with him hand-in-hand to beau’s hospital room. you lean against his side, breathe the comfort of him in, and smile.

yes, this is much better than your daydreams—baggage, boots, beau, and all.

#john deacon #john deacon x reader #john deacon fic #queen #queen fic #j writes

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