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pinkjeanist · 4 years ago

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“cooking by the book!” || katsuki bakugou

⇥ When Bakugou teaches 1-A how to bake a cake for an upcoming festival, you can’t help but notice how he treats you a little nicer than the others. But that’s just your crush on him talking...right? [1.6k words]

a/n: this is named after that remix of “cooking by the book” from lazy town bc no other song captures the pure essence of bakugou and reader’s relationship. this was also largely inspired by the difference in how gordon ramsay treats kid chefs vs. adult ones.[navigation]

You should have known that taking cooking lessons from Bakugou wasn’t going to be easy. However, with the way he taught you differently from everyone else, you had to admit: it could have been a lot harder.

“You’re gonna bake a cake, today.” You looked down at the empty mixing bowl before you, biting the inside of your cheek. You’d heard that baking was somewhat difficult to begin with, including (but not limited to) cake, and for Bakugou to choose that as your first proper baking session ever made you a bit intimidated (though whether you were intimidated by him or the cake was unclear).

Another school festival was coming up, and your class was expected to bake for the guests, which would have been okay if both halves of your class were competent enough to use an oven. So here you were, standing behind one of the many kitchen counters, trying not to stare too much ahead at Bakugou. You caught yourself doing that a lot on the daily, and even if you sometimes caught him doing the same, it was rude on your part. So, long before you’d even stepped foot in the kitchen, you decided that you would put your feelings aside and focus on the task at hand (which was already proving difficult).

After preheating the ovens, you all went back to your stations. You reached for the apron on the counter and slipped it over your head. Next to you, Kirishima asked his friend, “Are we supposed to do that?”

“Are you kidding me? Is that a question?” You paused in tying the apron behind your back as Bakugou raised his voice. “Yes, you dumbass! Who the hell doesn’t bake without an apron?!”

You nodded even as his shouting wasn’t directed towards you, and again attempted to tie the apron behind your back until you realized it just wouldn’t stay tied. You almost asked Kirishima or Mina to help you before Bakugou came over to grab the strings and do it himself. You went still, and didn’t quite hear him the first time when he mumbled, “Is that too tight?”

You swallowed. “It’s fine, thank you…”

He moved back in front of the counters again and tied his own apron. “You each have a recipe in front of you. Don’t use it unless you need it. If you listen to me, you won’t need it at all.”

You nodded and put your hands behind your back, not sure what else to do with them until he instructed the ten or so of you to find the flour. The others scrambled to the part of the kitchen you knew had flour somewhere around it, but you distinctly remembered there being another, smaller bag of it in a different pantry, so you went there instead. You retrieved it and presented it to Bakugou.

“Is this flour?”

He blinked. “No. That’s sugar.”

“Oh…”

“You’ll need it. Take it back to your station.”

“Oh, okay!” You smiled. Turning on your heel, you did as he instructed, and waited patiently until you were told to find the sugar (which you already had), baking soda, baking powder, cocoa, salt, and espresso powder. You tried to keep the list of the items in your mind as you turned to search for them, but found yourself at a loss.

It was your fault for only partially-listening when Bakugou had given the instructions, but were you really to blame? He was wearing a sleeveless shirt under an apron that hugged him tight enough to show off his tiny waist. How were you supposed to have paid attention with that in front of you?

But you wouldn’t say any of that to him- never in a million lifetimes- so you were as quiet and unassuming as possible as you took the recipe from the countertop and went over it. You knew where the flour was, and you had the sugar, but looking around the kitchen, you couldn’t spot anyone with espresso powder, which you didn’t even know was a thing that was supposed to go in cakes, but that wasn’t the point. You stood, biting your lip, until Bakugou came over again.

“What are you confused about?” His voice was a lot softer than you expected it to be, seeing as how he’d done nothing but yell at everyone else (you couldn’t blame him. Cooking was just that big of a passion for some people), but you couldn’t complain. You looked down at the recipe to avoid his eye.

“I’m not confused, I just- I don’t know who has the espresso powder.”

Bakugou put a hand on your arm, and you tried not to melt under it as he shouted over your shoulder: “Who has the espresso powder?!”

“Is this it?” Kaminari lifted a large jar of brown powder over a sea of other bakers-in-training, which drew another rant from Bakugou about kitchen safety and do you want someone to get a concussion when you drop that?!, but you were still too focused on the weight of his hand. When he got done yelling, he squeezed your arm gently before looking down at you, and you swore you felt your heart stop before beating out of control.

“Go and get a teaspoon of espresso powder. I’ll announce everything else, but if you forget the measurements, just look at the damn recipe.”

You nodded and said, “Okay. Thank you, Bakugou.”

Walking away, he muttered a quiet “you’re welcome,” and you could only smile to yourself as you looked back down at the recipe.

Bakugou called out the measurements, and eventually, you had everything in the mixing bowl, and whisked through the powders until combined as instructed. You were then told to add milk (Bakugou measured that out for you without you needing to ask) and add two eggs (he did that for you, too) with vegetable oil and vanilla. Once you had everything in, you began to stir it, but apparently, whatever you were doing was wrong, because he moved behind you to take your hands in his on the side of the bowl and on the paddle.

“You have to be more rough with it,” He muttered, moving your hands at a faster pace. “Or you’re gonna be standing here for three hours until it finally mixes.”

You couldn’t even find the words, anymore. The voice that constantly nagged you in the voice told you that you were doing everything wrong, and that you were helpless for needing his assistance with each and every step, but you really couldn’t complain. Another voice told you that you were actually doing well and that he was helping you because he wanted to, not because he felt obligated, but you pushed that thought back. You knew that wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. (Could it, though? (No. No it couldn’t.))

After he decided it was mixed to his satisfaction, he stepped away and went to observe Kirishima’s bowl.

“Is it supposed to be this kinda poop brown?”

“Never fucking say that again about food. And what the fuck is this? Stir it!” Bakugou grabbed the bowl and stirred it with vigor while Kirishima stood by and laughed. He didn’t hold Kirishima like he’d held you. And as he went around to stir the bowls of others, he didn’t even lay his hands on those faring worse than you. You furrowed your brow, but elected to continue stirring to keep yourself busy.

You were then told to put the batter in the two prepared pans in front of you, with the word “evenly” stressed after the fact. Bakugou again walked over to you as you got done. “Is this okay?”

He huffed. “This one has more batter, but it’ll do. Go put them in the oven.”

You nodded and put the pans in the oven, nearly dropping and spilling one on the way before catching it- but other than that, they went in smoothly. Over the next half hour, you took Bakugou’s advice and used a toothpick to check the center of the cakes, and sat on the flour-covered counters in the meantime while they baked. Bakugou came to sit by you while you twiddled your thumbs.

“You did a good job today.”

You looked at him, then immediately back to the oven with wide eyes. “Oh. I-I feel like I messed everything up, to be honest…”

“You did fine. You didn’t mess anything up.” He didn’t look at you, so you both kept staring at the oven, afraid of eye contact.

You hesitated before saying, “Thank you for helping me.” After a moment, you added, “You’re a really good teacher.”

“I know.” His head whipped over to where Kaminari was about to eat a spoonful of cinnamon, and chucked a wooden spoon at his back. “Not in my kitchen, asshat!”

You actually giggled at that, which was even more embarrassing with him looking at you afterwards. You quieted yourself soon after and shoved your hands into your lap.

“Why do you do that?”

You blinked. “Do what?”

“You always stop laughing. You laugh enough with your friends but never with me. Stop doing that.”

“Who says you’re not my friend?” You asked before you could stop your tongue, then meeting his eye. You desperately wanted to look away, but the need for a connection with him was too strong. “You are. My friend, I mean. Uhm.”

“So laugh if I do something funny. It pisses me off when you don’t.” He hung his head to mess with his hands, and you grinned shyly to yourself as you turned away.

“Okay.”

When the cakes were pulled from the oven, Bakugou was by your side the most, helping stack the layers and frosting it with chocolate buttercream. In which, when your hand brushed against his as you frosted the cake, you didn’t shy away from him. You each stole little glances, meeting one another’s eye every now and again (which was starting to become less uncomfortable each time).

You thought your cake was a little dry. He said it was the “best fucking thing” he’d ever eaten.

taglist: @keigos-dove @knifeewifee @wesparklebitch @bvnnyclouds @hanniejji @katsukis-sad-angel

other tag/s: @pixxiesdust

- dm/inbox to be added or removed from a taglist.

#katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #reader insert #tw: language

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nicka-nell · 4 years ago

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Prompt Event

Request: anonymous - OMG 500 followers is so exciting!! CONGRATS!! I am so excited for your event - I hope your inbox doesn't get too out of control! 🥰 Can I request Ukai or Ushijima (you choose) + NSFW + 30, 37, 59??

Prompt Event | Masterlist (coming soon)

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x reader Words: 2.345 Warning: NSFW, 18+ Note: All characters are grown-up!

Prompts: 30. Have you always been this beautiful? 37. What if I told you I’ve been in love with you since we were kids? 59. Shouldn’t you be with him?

Back then, you were little. You had just learned to tie your shoelaces without help, had made and eaten sand cake with your little hands. Back then, it was your father Nekomata who pulled you into a volleyball game.

To a team called Karasuno. A team where the coach was just as eager to win as your father. To your astonishment, he also had a boy at your age with him. He had always looked fiercely, his arms folded in front of his chest and always looked in the opposite direction from his father.

You can still remember that at a game, the men of the teams had warmed up, practiced their serve while you were about to close your loose shoelace. “Watch out!” Called the other coach’s boy as he stood in front of you and caught a harsh hit of the ball with his back, preventing you from getting punched in the face with a volleyball.

You remember you two used to sneak out at the games, hide out in his mom’s store, and secretly read adult magazines. You were laughing at the naked people in these, laughing and giggling every time you read the word sex. You were always reprimanded by your fathers, still that never stopped you.

But time passed, you became manager of Nekoma High School and Ukai became a setter at Karasuno. You had no time to see each other, had only met briefly at the games.

When your father also thought that Naoi, your substitute setter, is a nice guy and you should meet him, you knew that Ukai should disappear from your thoughts.

Naoi was in the same class as you, you had done a lot together and even now that you have your own job, he performs as the second coach of the Nekoma, you still meet. Just yesterday he was with you, had forgotten his jacket. You told him you’d give him his jacket back when you walked past the gym after work.

Whether it’s coincidence or fate, that you meet right in your former gym Ukai?

Unobtrusively, you sneak into the gym, go over to Naoi to poke him in the side with your index finger. He twitches with a smile before turning around and quietly thanking you for the jacket. As if it were a daily greeting to him, he gives you a kiss on the cheek before saying goodbye to you and turning back to the game.

You’re about to leave the gym when the opposing coach calls for a time-out. That voice, that voice… A voice that used to mean so much to you. Unbelievably, you turn around, to see if you really heard him.

“Ukai?” It escapes you almost silently, when you see the man from your childhood again.

As if he heard your sound, he looks at the entrance. At first he has difficulty recognizing you, but this hair, these eyes, this look, he would recognize it always. Yet you even have changed. You’ve become a real woman.

Now there’s only one question in his head. Have you always been this beautiful?

“Sensei, maybe we should replace him?” Gets him the captain’s voice out of his mind. For a moment, his gaze drifts away from yours, looking at the captain before he watches back in your direction. Except you’re not there anymore.

You know you’re supposed to meet Naoi after the game, but how can you if you just have to think about Ukai now. Almost automatically, your legs set in motion, making you get into your car to drive to Ukais shop, hoping that he will enter the store again today.

When you arrive in front of the store, you take a deep breath, wait a moment and let the chilly air calm your body down before you open the door and step in.

You are greeted by a man who introduces himself as Takinoue. Ask him if Ukai isn’t there today, when he confirms that he will come to the store again tonight. Nodding, you look around the shop as your gaze wanders to the adult magazines.

Smiling, you tell Takinoue that you would like to have one of these magazines, which he holds against you with red cheeks and watches you sit on a chair in the shop.

Time passes, the clock next to the cabinet with the cigarettes ticks and reminds you with every beat that Ukai will soon enter the store. The paper on the last two pages of the magazine squeaks between your fingers as you turn the page when the doorbells ring just a few seconds later and a familiar voice fills the room with excitement.

“Takinoue, did everything go well? I bet there wasn’t much of a clientele today, was there?” He laughs with his deep, smoky voice, but without answering him, Takinoue points at you. You’re still flipping around in that catalog, not looking up at those two men.

“Y/n?” Ukai asks wildly, can’t believe that you of all people are in his shop. Now you lift your eyes, smile at him kindly while you put the magazine out of your hand. “Takinoue…You can go now.”

Ukai’s gaze is filled with your eyes, fixed on you as if you were a shrine fulfilling his wishes. His voice is only heard softly, but still so loud that Takinoue understands to leave now.

Again you hear the bell before the door snaps into the hinge a few seconds later and Ukai comes towards you. Without a word, he sits next to you, looks at you before his gaze lands on the magazine.

He can’t resist a grin, leans back in the chair, his arms behind his back, his legs wide open. “Just like old times, huh?” He just smirks and makes you pay your full attention to him. “Like old times. But, you know what I also remember?” You ask, even though you know Ukai can’t answer that question.

Irritated, he looks at you, thinks about what you had done when you were little, but he can’t think of anything. Resolutely you get up from your chair, sit down on his lap and enjoy his suddenly so frightened face.

Grinning you move your pelvis in his direction, watch deep into his dark brown eyes before you kiss his harsh lips. Your warm tongue lies on his lips, seeking its way inside to connect with his.

With a quiet snort he opens his mouth, noticing his hands unconsciously looking for your delicate body, reaching under the thin fabric of your blouse to caress your sides. Almost a whiny sound escapes him as your lips separate from his when you stare at him with an incredibly attractive look.

“I don’t remember that.” He murmurs softly, not noticing the words that have left his mouth. “No? Maybe I should show you what else we’ve done?” You whisper to him seductively before you move your pelvis up and down in the hope of soon feeling something hard under you.

“Shouldn't you be with him? With Naoi?” He steers in, when your warm breath is already on his lips. “Huh? I’m with you right now.” You answer, and seal his lips with yours, so that you not give him the opportunity to answer.

His tongue, his saliva is bitter, you taste like he smoked another cigarette earlier. Ukai’s fingertips are rough as they wander along your sides, behind your back and digging into your flesh with a gruff.

Did he lock the door? No… Is the closed sign on the door? No… Someone could be coming in any minute. “Shit!” He curses under your kisses before he begins to caress your neck. To experience how you taste, to leave hickeys to show Naoi that you were with him. With Ukai, not with Naoi. He doesn’t care if anyone sees you now.

Your hands hastily search for the end of the coarse fabric of his sweater before you pull it off of his body with a quick movement and drop it to the ground. “Take off your blouse.” His tone is flat, husky as he looks deep into your eyes.

Nodding, you want to open the first buttons of your blouse, but you are too slow for Ukai. His hands that were still on your back before, are suddenly on top of yours, pushing your hands away when he tears open the fabric with an animalistic sound, and pulls it from your body. The buttons rattle as they fall to the floor, rolling through the store until they come to a lie.

With ease, Ukai lifts you up from the chair, kisses you before he turns you around with a jerk and presses your upper body on the table top in front of you. You hear the sound of his zipper behind you as it is opened and the coarse denim fabric glides off his legs.

With a whisper he pulls up your skirt, drills his hands into your shapely ass, only growls with clenched teeth. “Shit, you really got hot.” His rough voice sounds in your ears, and shortly afterwards you feel his warm chest lying on your back as something hard catches your attention.

“Nhhhg Ukai…” you moan and make him smile. His hand lets go of your butt, explores the area between your legs before he rubs his fingers on your wet panties. “God, what a naughty little girl you are. You’re already wet, just from our kisses, huh?” Even if you can’t see his look, you feel this mischievous radiance emanating from him.

“What if I told you I’ve been in love with you since we were kids? That I wanted to know how perfectly your sweet cunt wraps around my cock, as a teenager. Your needy moaning for my name?” He breathes into your ear as he begins to nibble on your earlobe and with his free hand pushes your panties aside to spread your walls and press his cock into you.

Almost without resistance it glides into you, wraps his dick with your essence and elicits a sugar-sweet moan out of your throat. A sound that is like music in his ears and satisfies him. “Tell me, my little girl, does my cock feel good in your sweet cunt?” He wants to know while he grabs for your hair to jerk your upper body up with his.

“So good… It feels so good, Ukai!” You snarl while you wonder why he feels so incredibly right. Unlike the men you had before. Ukais thrusts become stronger and more aggressive, causing your whole body to move.

“Oh god!” You whine again when Ukai starts to use his free hand to slide between your folds, just to start playing with your core. His fingertips rub against it, move rapidly, apply pressure and make your breath faster, so that your body tightens.

“God can’t help you right now, my little girl.” He just grins and starts to caress your neck, bite on it, and really play it safe, marking you as his.

His cock in you feels so big. Comes in places where no one has come before. Seek the way to your womb and make you understand that only he can fill you so well. You believe your vision go black, your legs automatically squeeze together as you keep pressing your pelvis against Ukai.

Awkwardly you reach for Ukai’s hair, burying your fingers in them, as if you didn’t know where to go with this desire that is about to explode. “Ah Damn, babe, you’re so hot. Just pull my hair, do what you want if you just give me your sweet moans.” His voice is barely understandable under his wet smacks on your neck, before he shoves his entire length into you with much force, making your tone completely uncontrollable. “Ah Ukai!” Your walls twitch, makes Ukai groan loudly, through this sudden tightness that literally constricts his lim.

You feel his member even better in you, every contour, every vein. Understand now also why it felt so good, because not only Ukais cock is in you, no also all piercings that adorn his cock. Everything rubs against your swollen walls. Elicit a whine that drives Ukai crazy.

“Damn babe, you’re so tight, I’m coming. Shall I pull out?” His trembling voice resounds in your scattered thoughts. “No, I want everything from you, I want to feel like I’m milking your dick, old man.”

That was exactly the answer Ukai wanted to hear, because with a few hard blows he distributes his viscous charge in you, fills you with his warm sperm before he lingers in you with a loud murmur for a moment.

“Damn, that was hot.” He breathes heavily before leaving your body and settling on the chair behind him. For a short blink of an eyelash, he still sees how a sperm thread connects him to you before it tears and sticks to his length.

Out of breath he dangles his hands left and right of him. Enjoy looking at your swollen walls, and how his thick sperm drips out of you slowly.

With an exhausted sigh, you turn around, straighten your panties before you sit on Ukai’s lap again. “As a tenager, I also wanted to know what your cock feels like inside me. Wanted to feel your cum in me and hear your deep voice. If I had known you were so good, I would have asked Naoi much earlier if he wanted to eat with me at home so that he would forget his jacket and I could bring it to him into the gym.” With a throaty laugh you give him a fleeting kiss on his reddish lips, which have changed their color through all your kisses.

“I guess I’ll have to thank the benchwarmer for leading you to me.” Like then, you swap conspiratorial glances before you both start laughing like teenagers when you lower your head to Ukai’s chest and give him an answer with gentle words.

“You have to, yeah.”

#haikyuu smut #ukai x reader #ukai smut #haikyuu

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lovecanbesostrange · 4 years ago

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DOES SHE ASK RUBY TO BITE DANI! |

Well, does she? And when, after a long time, when Dani finally sees the advantage and agrees to it... is it awkward?

Dani and Ruby have become friends. Ruby and Grace have become friends. All platonic, of course. But biting someone (and biting to turn them) is something... intimate. Like, you have to hold on there for a while. There are moans and gasps and usually that thing is only reserved for Regina (in Ruby's case) and Grace (in Dani's case).

So, do the partners that are not directly involded with this process just... stand there? Is Grace holding Dani's hand? Does Ruby ask "hum... excuse me" as she moves her mouth to Dani's skin (AND WHERE DOES SHE BITE HER, IS ANOTHER QUESTION). Does Ruby apologize after? Does she apologize that Grace had to watch it?

Does Regina have very jealous intimate interaction with Ruby later?

Those are the follow-up questions, I guess. Good luck.

Dear Lord...

You know I’m working on this THING that you and your anon put in my head. And you send me this meanwhile?! (While there is another ask in my inbox, well rather in the drafts, because I did start typing a response...)

You know full well that Regina will make a quip first, about how Granny got turned with that scratch on her arm. Quick and effective. Ruby gets offended.

“And you know that scar hurt her whole life afterwards! Also it was a traumatic event, I’m not here to give Dani nightmares about it.”

Regina huffs, mutters something about turning all saviors into werewolves now and leaves. Which alarms Ruby, because oh right, the snark is a defense mechanism. So they have a talk and once again Regina is reminded that there is this thing she doesn’t share with Ruby and all the ways Ruby keeps holding back. Has to hold back. So this is awkward indeed.

Fifteen minutes later Grace finally comes. “So, are you guys baili-” Yeah, okay, she just saw some sideboob, not here for that. (Well, not that sideboob anyway.)

She goes back in with this look in her eyes. Dani opens her arms inviting a hug. “We talked this through and have agreed it gives me an edge. Even Sarah agrees! Although I think she believed I was joking. Well, next full moon will be a surprise.”

“I hate surprises”, is all Grace mumbles into her shoulder.

Regina and Ruby come back into the motel room.

“Have you thought about where you want to,” Ruby gets flustered, because every phrase she can think of makes this sound so dirty.

Dani puts her hands on her body as if searching for the right spot, giving her own smooth skin a last once over. (She is wearing shorts and a tank top here, so there is lots of skin showing.)

“Just so we are clear, we are talking about a werewolf bite here, not some Anne Rice gay vampire romance embrace.” Regina is getting vibes she is not here for!

“Thanks, Regina for making it weird.”

“Just the shoulder would be good, I guess.”

“And if you wear a backpack? You want the straps to chafe?”

Ruby looks at Regina and holds up a finger with a silent ‘don’t you dare make Grace aware of the words she just used’. Regina smirks.

“So upper arm? I don’t want bite marks on my legs. And, well, definitely not anywhere else.”

Regina is trying so hard to hold back a comment about ‘biting her ass’.

“It’s a sensible choice, Dani.” Ruby tries to be so casual about this. But it’s not like she has ever bitten someone before. (She has eaten people. She has fucking literally eaten another human being.)

“Okay, so I’ll try to be quick. But also not too quick, I don’t want to bite your arm clean off. So, maybe it will be slow.” Yeah, nerves of steel. Not showing at all. “Also don��t be afraid. I mean, you’ve seen the wolf, it’s just me, teeth and all.”

Grace sits on the bed, back against the headboard, gesturing Dani to sit in front of her, leaning against her. “I’m gonna be here and it’s gonna be okay.”

Like always Regina is mesmerized by the moment her girlfriend casually transforms into a huge wolf. She hangs on to the red cloak Ruby was wearing.

Ruby nuzzles up against Dani, who is trembling a bit now. Who would be looking forward being bitten by a wild animal?! She has avoided growling dogs so often, how did she end up here?! Grace puts one of her arms around Dani, using the other to hold up Dani’s arm, supporting her. “You can look away, just like with needles.”

For a second Dani considers that, but then shakes her head. Ruby has her paws up on the bed, just the perfect height to.... bite her head clean off if she felt like it. But the golden eyes seem... warm... and kind.

There is a soft growl, maybe an instinct on Ruby’s part to warn of danger. The story of Little Red Riding Hood runs through Dani’s mind. ‘my what big teeth you have’ Damn, those are big and Dani watches as the teeth close around her flesh. Ruby had not been kidding, she could bite the whole arm off. Probably on accident if she sneezed right now. And so Dani held her breath.

Ouch, ouch, ouch. Teeth sink into flesh, Ruby is trying to find the right amount of force. She isn’t sure how deep the bite must be. She had always held onto a no-tiniest-scratch-at-all-policy, but she had no experience or frame of reference. (”Gonna ask Belle to research this subject for me.”)

Dani lets out a whimper, squeezing Grace’ arm around her. “Sssshhhh, it’s okay, Dani. Breathe, keep breathing, just breathe through the pain.” The skin gets torn apart and damn, Dani wishes Ruby would do this quick. But she also doesn’t want to lose her arm. Or just any flesh. The warm breath of Ruby on the slowly forming wound is something else. It’s agonizing. Even though she had endured worse pain in her life.

Blood starts dripping on the sheets. And it’s Regina who closes her eyes, because she can’t take it. It’s not that this scene before her is particularly gruesome. She doesn’t even mind disturbing this crazy form of intimacy. It’s the thought of Ruby tearing soldiers apart with those teeth and all the self-torturing guilt she still carried and only let Regina see in brief moments. That was what she could not stand.

Ruby stopped moving her jaws. Dani’s arm was trembling more and more, but Grace kept her up. Like waiting those few seconds after putting a stamp on paper.

And then it’s over. Ruby lets go and retreats to the corner of the room. She doesn’t want to draw attention to the fact that there is indeed blood to be licked up and well...

Regina goes over and throws the hood over Ruby, giving her a hug from behind before she even can stand up.

There is gaze on the nightstand and Grace grabs it, tending to the wound immediately. Okay, so the bite was no fun, but the rubbing alcohol is worse! But that is nothing compared to the fever Dani gets in the night.

She is wedged between Grace and Ruby holding her, having the weirdest fever dreams of animalistic terminators and magic used against nuclear bombs. And her senses go haywire, which is where Ruby keeps whispering in her ear that it will be okay, but it’s so clear.

They stay in this bubble for two days. Regina keeping a silent watch, wondering if this was the right choice.

#I hope you understand that I could've taken the easy way out here #on BtVS all it took for Oz to become a werewolf was a baby biting his finger!#konako #I don't even fully go here and look what you made me do #how do I even tag this?! I have no idea #a thousand words of I don't know what exactly...

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firstdegreefangirl · 4 years ago

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Eddie Week Day Four: Between The Sheets

Word Count: 2135

Original Pub Date: 17 June 2020

Relationships: Eddie Diaz/Evan Buckley

Author's Note: This whole thing started with a convo in @rebeccaofsbfarm's inbox, so blame/credit to her for helping me cheat my way through this prompt! Love youuuu

Read on ao3 here

Just like aways, tagging: @eddiediazweek @hearteyesforbuck @thisissirius @hearteyesforbuck @dramamineontopofme @twinien @meloingly @myemergence

Eddie pushes the front door open, almost trips over his own feet trying to step across the threshold. Buck is right behind him, laughing when Eddie doesn’t pick his feet up far enough and catches his toe on the lip of the doorframe.

“Shut up, I just want to shower and go to bed.” He grumbles, leaning both palms against the wall for balance as he toes his shoes off.

They’d stopped at a drive-thru on the way to the house, Eddie riding in the passenger seat of Buck’s Jeep because he was already too exhausted to drive. He’d tried to wave Buck off at the mention of food but Buck ordered for him anyway, shoving a cardboard container of chicken nuggets and fries in his lap and threatening to drive circles around town until he’d eaten it all.

The long shift had drained the last reserves of energy from the entire team, but Eddie had taken a harder hit than the rest, having spent half of the night before sitting up in Christopher’s bed and rubbing his back after a bad dream.

“I know, that’s why I had to drive you home. Thanks for the couch invite, by the way. Way better than another 15 minutes behind the wheel.”

“Anytime, man.” Eddie rocks on his feet as he leans away from the wall, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. “You want first shower?”

“You never leave any hot water.” But Buck’s eyes soften when he sees the way Eddie can barely hold himself up. “But you’re not going to make it if I shower first …" He trails off, and Eddie can feel him mulling something over.

Watching Buck think is only making him more tired, so he leans his back against the wall and sighs.

“What, Buck? You going to say we should shower together?” He turns his head just far enough to see Buck out the corner of his eye.

“I mean, we change together at work. Why not kill two birds with one stone? It’s not like I’ve never seen you naked.”

Eddie thinks about what Buck said, processes the words as they roll through his brain. He’s all but dead on his feet, but he has to admit that there’s a certain amount of logic to what Buck is saying.

They’ve gotten dressed side by side countless times since Eddie joined the 118, stood naked underneath separate showerheads in the open-layout shower at the station.

Buck is right, he’s pretty sure. There’s not much difference between catching a glimpse of your buddy in the locker room and standing in the same bathtub to shower.

Besides, it won’t be weird unless he makes it weird, right?

“True.” Eddie nods and stands back upright, careful not to overbalance himself and faceplant. “Works for me.” He wonders briefly if falling asleep in the shower would be considered “weird,” if Buck would catch him if he toppled over underneath the spray.

It would, but Buck would anyway, he decides as he leads Buck down the hall to the master bath.

They stand next to each other to undress, shoulder-to-shoulder but facing opposite directions. It’s not a production, just the way they wind up, each of them watching behind the other, having each other’s backs.

When the water is hot enough to fog up the mirror, Eddie pulls the door back and they step over the edge to face each other under the showerhead. The air is thick with steam, enough humidity that Buck’s hair starts to curl almost right away. Eddie focuses carefully on a ringlet that’s wrapped around the top of his ear, knows that he has to keep his eyeline above Buck’s shoulders, lest he make his best friend uncomfortable.

Here’s the thing: Eddie’s never thought of his shower as particularly small. It’s got more than enough room for him to maneuver, a showerhead with more settings than he has fingers and a glass door that lets in enough light to open the space up without flooding the bathroom.

But apparently when two grown men stand in it at the same time, it’s just tight enough that Eddie has to think carefully about his every move. How can he reach for the shampoo without touching Buck’s bicep? Can he lean back far enough to rinse the suds out of his hair without invading Buck’s personal space? Can he lean back that far without falling over, on account of the exhaustion dragging through his limbs?

He can, it turns out, but he’s really too tired to have to actively think about it. Maybe Buck’s big idea saved them a few minutes, but by the time they’re painstakingly switching positions, letting Buck run his hair under the water and wash the lather from his body, he’s exponentially more drained than he was when they walked in the front door.

Thankfully, they’re both able to clean themselves up and dry off without bumping into one another. There’s enough space in the open bathroom for them to stand a couple of feet apart as they wrap themselves in fresh towels, and Eddie tosses Buck a clean pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt when he’s digging through his dresser drawers.

They don’t face each other when they’re getting dressed, leave enough space between them again to avoid any unintentional contact. But when Buck stands up, Eddie winces in sympathy at the way his back pops. Through the haze of his exhaustion, he realizes that Buck probably shouldn’t sleep on the couch tonight, especially not if his back is already making sounds like that. A solution pops into his mind and falls out of his mouth all in one fell swoop, before he can realize what he’s saying.

“Sleep in my bed.”

Buck turns around as he pulls the shirt down over his stomach, eyes going wide in surprise.

“What?”

“Your back popped,” like that explains it. “Sleep in my bed.”

“Eddie … I’m not kicking you out of your own room.”

“No, you’re not.” Eddie nods, the fringes of his idea fitting together in his head. “It’s a big bed. We can both fit; I have a king. You’re too tall for the couch, Buck. It’s fine, I’m inviting you.”

Eddie’s tired enough that he’s starting to feel a little drunk with it, but he’s not so far gone that he misses the way he can see Buck struggling with his options.

He sleeps over all the time, but Eddie’s never suggested sharing the bed before. He’s thought about it, in the mornings when he can see Buck trying to work the knots out of his shoulders without Eddie noticing, but he’s always stopped himself before he says anything.

“OK,” Buck nods, but he still doesn’t seem sure. “But only until I convince you to buy a new couch, dude.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, is suddenly too close to sleep to formulate a response. He steps past Buck, back into the bathroom, ignoring the way their bodies brush against each other as he jams his toothbrush haphazardly around his mouth. As soon as he feels like he’s at least brushed most of his teeth, he’s spitting into the sink and stumbling across the room to pull the blankets back and collapse into bed.

His face is buried in his pillow, but there’s just enough light seeping in at the edges of his vision that he’s still awake. So he waves one arm absently behind him, hoping Buck gets the message.

“Turn th’ light ‘ff, come lay d’wn.” The pillow muffles his voice, even as it carries back to his own ears, but Buck seems to know exactly what he’s asking, because a few seconds later, the room goes black and the mattress dips beside him as Buck settles in.

“You’re sure about this?”

They’re not touching, but Buck is close enough that Eddie can feel his breath hot against the side of his face.

“Yes, Buck ‘m sure.” Eddie groans and rolls over. “We don’t have to cuddle or ‘nything. Just shut up and sleep.”

It’s his last conscious thought, until he wakes up the next morning with an arm slung across Buck’s waist. He looks up slowly, only to find that Buck is already staring down at him, and snatches his hand back.

“Buck! I’m-”

“Don’t worry about it. Doesn’t have to be a thing.” Buck rolls over and stands up, and they don’t speak of it again. Buck makes breakfast, like he always does when he stays over, and they get ready to ride back to the station after dropping Chris off at Pepa’s to catch the bus.

But it does become a thing. Buck doesn’t stay over any more often than he did before, but there’s a whole new routine now.

It turns out that it’s actually really convenient to have someone else in the shower to give Eddie a hand with that strip of skin on his upper back that he can’t quite reach. And there’s nobody in their right mind would sleep on the couch when Eddie’s mattress is on offer right now the hallway.

There’s no deeper meaning to it, other than the convenience of having someone right there beside him. After the long shifts, they’ll lay awake together, reassuring each other that they’d done everything they could. They always start out fully clothed, leaving a careful distance between them, but after a few weeks that changes too.

Now, more nights than not, he and Buck will wake up curled together and find that one or both of them had pulled their shirts off overnight.

It doesn’t have to mean anything though, and every time Eddie tries to decide if it does, he remembers that he’s setting an example for Christopher, showing him that two men can be affectionate and open with each other.

That’s it. That’s all it means.

Which is why he doesn’t think anything of it when he throws Buck’s shirt in his duffel bag before work one morning. Buck had stayed over the night before, but left before Eddie was awake so he could make it across the freeway for an early dentist appointment before work. He’d brought a change of clothes, but Eddie isn’t surprised that he was rushing to get out the door and left his shirt behind.

He isn’t sure why it’s so important that Buck never leaves clothes behind, but that seems to be the line they’ve silently drawn in the sand.

So he takes the shirt to the station, but Buck is already out of the locker room when he walks in. He changes into his uniform, then carries the garment out to the common area, trying not to let himself think about how soft and worn in it feels before he tosses it at the back of Buck’s head.

“Hey, you left this in bed last night. Figured you’d want it back.”

Buck reaches up and pulls the shirt off of his head, turning it over in his hands before folding it neatly and setting it on his knee.

“Thanks, Eds.” He doesn’t say anything else, or react otherwise, but when Eddie looks around, Hen and Chimney are staring between them, mouths agape in twin ‘o’s.

“I’m sorry, what?” It’s Chim who breaks the silence, leaning forward like there’s some remarkable story about to be told.

“What?” Buck blinks at him. “Eddie’s bed is way comfier than his couch, so I sleep there now. I suppose you’re going to say it’s weird that we shower together sometimes too? We’re best friends, we don’t need boundaries.”

He sounds dead serious, and Eddie finds himself relieved to know that Buck isn’t any more hung up on how to describe their routine than he is; they’re friends who share a bed and a shower, who cares?

“It’s not weird,” Hen sets her hand on Buck’s knee, right over the shirt. “It’s just not friends, Buckaroo.”

Buck says something in response, but Eddie isn’t sure what it is, can't make out the words over the sound of the realization ringing in his ears.

It’s not friends.

He’s still reeling from it that night, lying in bed with Buck, whose made himself comfortable tucked into Eddie’s side. Eddie’s arm is around his shoulders, fingers toying lightly with the groove where his bicep and chest are pressed together. He can’t stop thinking about what Hen said earlier, about the freight train that drove straight into his heart.

It’s not friends.

Maybe … just maybe, if it could feel like this, if it could feel more than this, better than this, Eddie thinks he might want to be more than not-friends with Buck.

But sleep is pulling him under, so he decides that’s a thought that can wait until they wake up next to each other in the morning.

#eddie diaz week #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #evan buckley x eddie diaz #eddie diaz x evan buckley #bed sharing #shower sharing #911 #911 fox #911 fanfic #9-1-1 fox #9-1-1 fanfic #9-1-1 #buddie fanfic #katie writes #kw20 #originalcontentfirstdegreefangirl

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meruz · 5 years ago

Text

been getting a lot of asks lately so im gonna take em out all in one

thank you!!! actually, I’ve been getting a lot of comments lately about how my style is messy lol (ie “I love messy styles like this!”) which feels a little bit like a backhanded compliment even if its not intended as such but yknow... I’ve decided I don’t care! I draw really cleanly for my day job and so for personal work and fanart I’m just going to be as messy and sketchy as I want lol. and hopefully it’s legible.

I don’t mind! Thankfully, if someone makes an addition to a post, only the first like half a sentence will show up in my notifications! So it’s not like the length really makes a difference. And if it’s meta about the characters or about the art, I’d like to see it! I mean obviously content is going to matter... like if I draw art of my favorite character, caption it “my favorite character :)!” and someone writes an essay underneath thats like “actually I hate this character, I think its annoying how many people like them etc etc” then ofc I’m gonna be a little off put. But generally?? doesn’t bother me at all.

What does bother me though is when people RP on a post I make lol..... Or have a conversation with a friend? Like you guys know I get all the notifications for that, right...? And I’m a single person, not a brand who u can just use to shitpost...

Yeah! Ofc! I should probably put up an FAQ or something but if you want to use my art as an icon/header/etc I’m fine with it so long as you give credit somewhere visible!! Same with phone bgs... not that you can credit those bc its personal use but like. if someone asks about it, maybe mention me? haha

oh also I think tumblr inbox maybe ate the message but I also got an ask about whether it’s ok to re-post my art on instagram??? And not every artist is going to share my opinion but I know instagram has minimal options to re-share art in a permanent way and re-posting is definitely part of the culture of that site... So, again, I’ll give the go ahead as long as you credit me! if reposting, please tag my insta which is @ automeruz

NOT AT THE MOMENT NOPE... It’s been really difficult for me to fulfill orders in the past year so I closed my shop. The last couple orders that came in...I took like 3 months to mail them because I moved to a new city and had to figure out so much mailing nonsense and only had time on the weekends...

However, it’s one of my new years resolutions 2020 to set up a store again! so hopefully before the end of the year haha. I’ll advertise it here and on all the other social media when it goes up, probably.

YAYYY I LOVE DIGIMON. Tbh, between pokemon and digimon fanart I feel like im regressing back to being 11 years old again. But I’m glad that digimon adventure appreciators are still around 20 years after the series haha! I recently rewatched all of adventure, 02, and tri (+ movies! obviously!) and had the time of my life. Emotionally priming myself to be obliterated by Last Evolution when it comes out lol...

ALSO I GOT ANOTHER ASK THAT GOT EATEN BY THE INBOX BUT I REMEMBER IT VIVIDLY BECAUSE IT WAS...WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE GALAR POKEMON...

Impidimp and Dreadnaw!!!! (and Grimmsnarl + Chewtle by extension!!!! I think moregrem is just okay lol....) I am also a fan of dragapult but I think everyone is a fan of dragapult lol. It’s just the first dragon pokemon I’ve really liked in a long time, possibly maybe ever. Oh and I like Grookey and Scorbunny SO much - and their evolutions! I don’t really care much for sobble but I kind of like inteleon. OH and clobblopus is rly good too. and the new fossil kids, and I like that toxel walks like a Land Before Time dinosaur.

I love pokemon, I’m a staunch believer that there are no bad pokemon designs. Regardless of my personal preferences, all pokemon are good.

theyre hard to draw though... by far the hardest part of drawing pkmn fanart for me is drawing the pokemon..... digimon are easier somehow.

#meruzart #pokemon #digimon #ask #anonymous #wordy per usual

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famedroleplayarchive · 4 years ago

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there's a serious problem with lack of dash activity and plotting here. and even though you don't really take advice on how to improve the group or adding groups(unless its specifically something /youre/ asking of the group), the unwillingness to change much of anything besides "model groups" instead of making interesting changes like opening trainee slots, potential duos, bands, and staff positions, fun hinting at group debuts, or even a revamp of the blog with new features is discouraging.

Hi! As a policy, it’s much easier for me to address concerns off-anon, but I do want to start off by saying that I’m always open to taking suggestions for what people want to see! I address that and the bulk of your message more fully under the cut, but I wanted to touch on your dash and plotting concerns first above the cut since I wanted to give members a little reminder, too.

If you’re having problems with or concerns about any specific members, please come to me off-anon and I will speak to them. I can’t ever fully know what’s going on with plotting since that almost exclusively happens over messages, which I have no access to. If your writing partners have been slow to reply lately, we’ve got mini-events with the Base blog along with future full-group events and tasks that will be ramping up that will provide more to write about, as the dash does slow down when we don’t have any real events or tasks going on.

I definitely hear your concern, though, so, members, please make sure you’re putting in the effort to write and plot with those who express interest in doing so with you, and don’t be afraid to reach out to others if you feel your plots are currently lacking! Life can make people slow (myself included right now, especially when it comes to responding to plotting messages and, to a lesser extent, messages on the main), but make sure to follow up when you do get the chance, and it never hurts to let someone know that you’ve got a lot going on right now, so maybe going with the flow on a starter or doing a text thread (though, reminder: those don’t count for activity) would be better for the time being.

Likewise, members, if you ever have concerns about feeling excluded by anyone, please message me off-anon and I will do what I can to try to help you out! Your comfort is of utmost important to me.

Now, I’d like to address the latter part of your message, since it concerns me that I may have given off any kind of impression that I’m not open to suggestions or advice.

As I said at the beginning of this post, I am always open to hearing out suggestions and advice! A lot of updates that have been added recently are at the suggestion of members. Almost all of the claims that have been added to the points shop recently were specific requests by members, as well as several past rule updates and general changes to how the group is run. The biggest addition we’ve had to the group in a while was the addition of the Base blog and the events that will come from it (and the full scope of possibilities I want to incorporate through that has yet to be shown!) was an idea I’d had since the beginning of the roleplay in some sense, but was largely shaped by suggestions and requests from members past and present and those who submitted what they wanted to see anonymously.

Generally, as a rule, I don’t publicly reply to suggestions for the group that come in since it can be hard to make an official statement on any plans I have for incorporating them before I’ve entirely thought it through and figured the best way, time, and method to implement a suggestion. I keep all anonymous suggestions I receive, so that I can keep them in mind and come back to them later. Messages do get eaten, though, so if you want to be one hundred percent sure I got something, please message me the suggestion off-anon and let me know you’d like to know I got it!

I do understand that the few times I have replied to anonymous suggestions publicly, it’s more often than not been to say that something won’t be able to be implemented (or that, if it will, it’s a ways off), but I only do that when a request or suggestion has been made multiple times and I’ve thought it through enough that I really don’t see it working within the confines of the group so that members aren’t holding on for something that I won’t be able to make happen for them. This includes what you’ve mentioned about opening the roleplay up for trainees, staff, or bands, because those are simply not roles that would work within the mechanics of the roleplay and its concept since everything (events, claims, points) is based around the specific lives and careers of debuted idols. Muses outside of that would naturally feel left out unless I were to do a major overhaul of the group’s core. I know idol roleplays with those types of open roles have been done before and are probably being done out there right now, though, so I do hope you can find a place to write your trainee, staff, or band muse if that’s what you really want to write out! Unfortunately, the specific sub-set of the idol roleplay genre that I’ve chosen for Famed to exist within doesn’t easily accommodate the types of roles outside of those that already exist within it. As for duos, I had suggestions brought to me about people wanting to see more sub-unit and canon collaboration opportunities and I’m doing my best to make that happen through all of the recent sub-unit debuts and the COLLA3ORATE event through the Base blog, and beyond that, music collaborations, dramas, variety shows, etc. are always available as a claim for two muses to work and/or promote together if they want to!

No group debuts have been hinted at recently because there’s none immediately planned anymore. I had a boy group I wanted to debut this summer, but it’s more important to me that existing muses have group mates to write with before I bring in new spots, so nothing is planned to happen there with that new boy group debut until next calendar year at earliest. We’ve had at least one new group or soloist debut every year since the roleplay opened (Femme Fatale in 2017; Lucid and Dimensions Soloist 2 in 2018; BC Soloist 1 in 2019; Dimensions Soloist 3 in 2020) and new debuts are something I’d like to keep up for as long as it’s reasonable.

I’m not able to accommodate what every single request, suggestion, and desire everyone has for the roleplay because not everything will fit into the roleplay realistically and logistically, but I promise I have never refused to make a suggestion happen out of sheer stubbornness or refusal to be open to others’ ideas!

In my view, my role as an admin is to keep the roleplay running and offer updates, changes, plot drops, story lines, etc. to encourage muse for writing among muns, but I am also very aware of roleplay as a collaborative art — meaning, as an admin, I also want to work with members to help craft a community unique to the members we have had and do have that wouldn’t exist in the form it does without their creativity and ideas. That’s why I will sometimes put out surveys for opinions and feedback like you mentioned. I never want to make members feel burdened by those, as they are always completely optional, and are intended to help me, as a solo admin, get a broader view on suggestions that have been brought to me to see if it’s something more widely desired. Other times, yes, they do involve concerns and ideas of my own, but I have no desire to put the burden of admin-ing on members’ shoulders and I sincerely apologize if it ever feels like that’s what I’m doing by putting out opinion and feedback surveys. I do often make decisions without surveys, but when it’s something that I’m not fully set on doing or not doing, I like to know if it’s something that will make members happy since, once again, I really do want the roleplay to be shaped in part by what brings members muse instead of forcing things that might suck inspiration out of the roleplay when that’s the opposite of my intention. If I’m asking for member opinions, that is always completely optional and if you don’t want to answer, you should never feel you have to! If the requests for opinions and feedback don’t match what you want to give, then you are encouraged to message me anyway with your own!

I do want to reiterate again since I am very saddened to hear I may have come off contrarily: I love receiving ideas for the roleplay from members. I do not regularly reply to anonymous suggestions so that I can keep them in the inbox to come back to, but I am happy to read them and consider them. I was actually thinking very recently about how I might want to open a separate ask box or open submission form for suggestions to encourage members to send their thoughts in when they have them, but we have quite a few blogs already, so I didn’t know if that would be wanted.

I’m one person and while I try my best to try to come up with new ideas and ways to keep the group exciting without being overwhelming, I’m under no illusion that there aren’t people out there with ideas I never would have thought of that are better than anything I could come up with on my own and it excites me when I get messages with new ideas for the group, even when I’m not able to implement them, because people making suggestions means they’re excited about the group and/or they have enough investment to want to see something and that means the world to me!

As for a revamp of the blog with new features, I’m not confident I know exactly what you’re referring to there, but if you mean a revamp for a new look, I know we’ve had the same graphics and themes on our blogs for a while as it hasn’t been a priority for me to change those with everything else I’ve had going on, but any suggestions you might have for functional features you want to see on any of our blogs would be great to hear! I’ve been working behind the scenes on creating a timeline of major canon career events (tours, first award wins, foreign debuts, that kind of thing) for each of the groups, sub-units, and canon soloists, so I hope to have those added to the new page layouts some time within the next few months, but other new features on the main, Exclusive blog, Base blog, and company blogs are more in their infancy, so any suggestions there would be lovely to hear!

#Anonymous

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apprenticebard · 6 years ago

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How can I make more money like you?

An important question!!

So to start with, I am not a person who has Figured Things Out. I got lucky last year - my friend recommended me for a job in a very high-wage area (specifically, San Francisco’s tech industry) that I happened to be a really good fit for, and that happened to be willing to hire people on a trial basis if they were promising, even if they didn’t have college degrees (’cause I still don’t have one). And that was really good for a while, until some stuff happened and I kinda got eaten. Now I’m unemployed and looking for another job; I think I’ll find something comparatively good again, but I dunno how long it’ll be, and right now I’m looking at both moderately high-paying content-writing jobs and jobs that pay around minimum wage (which is a lot here; nothing pays less than $15 because the bay is lowkey insane), in case getting another really good job takes longer than I’d like it to.

But anyway! Obviously there isn’t a super easy way to make lots of money that’s going to apply to every anon who could possibly have shown up in my inbox, but here are some general pointers:

1) Even if things are going really well for you, you’re gonna tend to make less than most people while you’re early in your career. This is difficult but how it is. It doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong, and you might be on track for a great career in a few more years, once you gain more experience. If this is where you’re at, I think the best way to make more money is to work on leveling up at your current job, or looking for a different job of the same kind that either pays better now or will probably allow you to level up faster. It’s good to take on extra responsibilities when you have the time and energy to do so, especially if they use a lot of skills you do have, but also a few skills that you’ll need to figure out as you go along.

Note that I do think that this advice is less actionable outside of the bay (which is full of startups that are growing rapidly and trying new things). I do think there’s still something to it. If you gain skills and responsibilities as well as you can, I think that even if your current job doesn’t recognize that and reward it, you’ll be building up skills that’ll make you more desirable the next time you change jobs.

2) Say you think you’re in a really good industry, and you know that other people in your industry make decent money, but for some reason, you’re not. Or, alternatively, say that you have a lot of skills and some work experience in a decent industry, but you can’t get anyone to call you back, and you’re beginning to wonder if maybe you’re secretly terrible and have zero Good Employee Qualities.

Getting a new job is hard, and leaving an old job is scary. I know; I just left my old job, and I spend lots of time being scared that nobody’s gonna hire me and I’m gonna have to go back to working at Kroger again, where I only made it through cashiering shifts by imagining that my characters were being tortured and that I could only save them by making it to the end of the next hour.

But it really does pay to look at what else is out there. You can get some ideas by very casually looking at job sites like Glassdoor or Indeed; there might be nothing, or a bunch of job postings that you don’t understand, but I’ve found that it’s often good to get the lay of the land and figure out what recruiters are looking for in your industry. If you want better odds, and you have some successful friends, it can pay to ask them whether their companies are hiring for a position you can fill, and whether any of them might like to recommend you for it.

If you don’t have an easy way to get your foot in the door, you’re gonna be filling out a lot of applications. This sucks, but it doesn’t mean that you suck. If you really feel like you’re qualified for the sort of job you want, get someone to help you put together a good resume that shows off your skills, put together a portfolio or similar if you’re in the relevant industries, and resign yourself to applying to dozens or maybe hundreds of things. Recruiters are super arbitrary and will totally disqualify you based on things that have nothing to do with your ability to do the job. (This isn’t even because they’re bad people, it’s because they have a stack of resumes on their desk and have only the faintest idea how to tell which of the associated candidates are gonna be good at things.) It’s a numbers game. If you’re not doing something really ridiculous, like applying to every job with a resume that only lists completely unrelated kinds of work experience, then someone’ll probably talk to you eventually. It’ll just probably take way more applications than you’d think.

(Oh, also, all of the requirements in job postings tend to be pretty silly; as long as you think you’re genuinely capable of doing the work, I think you should apply to jobs where you meet maybe 75% of the stated requirements if the job sounds OK, and maybe 50% if it’s something you’d be really excited to get to do.)

3) If you’re not in a career sort of job at all - if you’re stuck behind the counter at Wendy’s right now, in which case my heart goes out to you, anon friend - or you’ve found yourself in a career that pays very badly or makes you unhappy, and you don’t think your skills will translate to anything you like doing, then you might want to look at changing careers entirely. Most people will tell you to go to college, if you haven’t already. I’m gonna tell you that college is a great thing for lots of people, but not always a good idea financially, and not always the best way forward, especially if you’re not very academically inclined.

Think about what you’re good at, and think about what your dealbreakers are. You’re approaching this from thinking about money, not about passion, but you still don’t want to end up in a job that you’re a terrible fit for; you’ll get fired or be miserable all the time, and that’s no good for anyone.

As a first line, if you feel that you’re reasonably flexible and talented, here are some very different jobs that make good money; you might want to consider whether you’re a good fit for any of these, and do more research as appropriate. (This is largely an exercise to get you thinking, not to say that these specific jobs are the ones you should definitely be looking at.)- Nursing. There’s a perpetual shortage of nurses, they have to exist everywhere in the country, and they make at least decent pay no matter where they live. For an RN, you’re looking at an average of about $55k per year in the cheapest states, and about $90k per year in the most expensive ones (although remember that this isn’t what you’ll make at the beginning of your career). I don’t recommend it if you really dislike people, long hours, college classes, heavy lifting, or bodily fluids, but I do think it’s a career that a lot more people should be willing to consider. If you think you can hack the education part, but not so much the heavy lifting, the bodily fluids, or the being around people who might be dying, dental hygienists make about the same amount, and their patients hardly ever need to be carried anywhere while possibly dying. I think.

- Software engineering. The pay rate here is kind of insane; if you have the interest and aptitude, then doing a coding bootcamp and getting a programming job in either NYC or San Francisco is a relatively attainable way of making a genuinely six-figure salary within a few years of starting, even if you don’t have a college degree. It’s not for everyone - I’ve tried to learn, a little, but I’ve bounced off pretty hard so far - but it’s a great opportunity for people who can hack it, so to speak. Like nursing, there’s a shortage here, mostly because software is a rapidly expanding industry that has only existed for, like, forty years tops.

- The skilled trades. We’re talking about electricians, mechanics, plumbers, carpenters, and other people in this space. It’s hard in different ways than an office job, but there are a lot of people who these are a good fit for. While they’re not as highly paid as nurses or engineers, people in the skilled trades do OK; reaching $50k per year is totally feasible, and people who are both skilled and lucky can break $80k. These jobs tend to go by apprenticeship systems, so if you don’t have a family member or friend to vouch for you, it’s a good idea to look at trade schools in your area to get you started, and then expect to spend several years in a junior position until you know what’s what.

- Flight Attendants. Not all flight attendants are particularly well-paid, but many are, and things like waitressing can be counted as relevant experience. The first flight attendant job I found on Indeed just now is $18 an hour and doesn’t require any experience or a degree, though the requirements do have a lot to say about your appearance, height (gotta be able to get luggage out of the overhead compartments, after all), and willingness to work really weird hours. The BLS reports that the median flight attendant ultimately makes about $56k per year.

- Police officers. Obviously there are a ton of very legit reasons not to want to be a police officer, but I am of the opinion that someone’s gotta do it, and it’s better if the people involved wanna do it right, right? (I guess I don’t know if you want to do it right. Please don’t become a police officer purely for the money and then shoot someone, anon.) The median police officer makes about $60k, and it doesn’t require a college education, which is honestly a pretty good deal even if you’re not as passionate as Judy Hopps. I don’t recommend it as a job unless you’re not scared of people, even the creepy ones, ‘cause scared people make mistakes, and when police officers make mistakes, sometimes people end up dead.

If you read that list and were like, “Bard, there’s a reason I’m at Wendy’s, can you lower your expectations here a little,” you might want to look into stuff like warehousing, groundskeeping, janitorial work, sales, garbage collection, or construction work. Job sites are your friends; it’s useful to browse them and see what sorts of jobs pay the kinds of salaries you’re looking for. I also think you might be well-served by considering whether you can move in with friends or family in a part of the country where wages are higher. The big cost of living difference in other places is rent, so if you have a housing situation figured out or can split that cost with a friend, you can make a lot more money just by doing the same thing somewhere else. For example, before I got super lucky and became a Real Content Writer, my plan was to hang out on my friend’s couch for six months rent-free, work at some supermarket in SF, and then take my wages back home to Indiana to pay for the rest of my degree. And honestly, if I hadn’t fallen in love with this ridiculous place and hadn’t immediately gotten a much better job, I think it very well might have worked.

There’s a lot more that I could say here, but this is already pretty long. The main things are to think about where you’re headed, to look around at all of the different possible lucrative directions to head in if you don’t like where you are, and to figure out what steps you’d have to take to get there. You’re welcome to come to my inbox with more questions about this - my last job was all about helping people find jobs themselves, so I guess I should know something about it by now - but you might need to be a little more specific if I didn’t hit on the thing you’re stuck on in this post.

#bard says things #asks #anon #in which someone snipes me and makes me do un-80k stuff even though i am not prepared to do it Officially #it's ok anon ilu #good luck with stuff

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luci-is-a-devil- · 6 years ago

Text

RetrouvaiIles

Words: 8,353

Warnings:Angst at some moments, demon summoning, implied smut at the end

A/N: Hello! This is a Namjoon/Yoongi/Jeongguk so if that’s not something you want to read, please skip this one! I began this story last year and lost interest in it. Recently, I got inspired while going through my old works so I continued writing this. Hopefully you enjoy reading, my inbox is open if you want to yell about this fic! Without further ado, please enjoy!

It had been a stressful day for Namjoon, he woke up at six in the morning, an ungodly time for anyone, was forced to go into the cold weather to attend college classes that made him want to rip out every strand of hair he had. That wasn’t even the worst part of his day, that’s how bad it had been. He had a shift at his studio after, which he was late to because some stranger was stalking him and Namjoon had to take the long way there. Six hours later and a very small will to live, Namjoon trudged home, headphones plugged into his phone that had died long ago.

The streetlights illuminated his way home, with the ones that had broken bulbs missing their orbs of light on the floor, causing Namjoon to walk faster when the light wasn’t shining on his back. He had never liked the dark, couldn’t sleep in it for most of his life. It was no secret that Namjoon was an insomniac, even with the excuse of not liking the dark, Namjoon had trouble sleeping.

The apartment complex was small, not in the best part of town either, but it was all Namjoon could afford. It smelled like cigarettes, making Namjoon cough a few times as he walked to his door. It was an odd shade of gray, with a metal doorknob.

Sticking his silver key into the hole, he unlocked the door. The smell of salt hit Namjoon’s nose as soon as he took a step inside the apartment. Crinkling his nose at the pungent smell, Namjoon shut the door behind him. Slipping off his shoes, he walked into the living room, where the couch wasn’t where it was supposed to be, not too weird.

But the man standing inside a summoning circle on the floor was weird, even for Namjoon’s roommate. The lilac haired male wanted to believe that his younger roommate was probably pulling a prank, but that was unlikely. Jeongguk had other things to do besides messing with Namjoon, or so the younger claimed.

“Jeongguk, what the fuck did you do?”

Jeongguk’s face was pale, his brown eyes comically big. Jeongguk was biting his lip, meaning he was nervous. Also sending butterflies into Namjoon’s stomach for two reasons, one because it was never a good thing when the younger was nervous, two because Jeongguk biting his lips made Namjoon’s blood flow down south.

“I might’ve summoned a demon?”

Jeongguk smiled sheepishly, color slowly returning to his face as he smiled at Namjoon. Namjoon shook his head at the younger, turning away under the pretense of putting his bag down when he just didn’t want Jeonguuk to see the blush on his cheeks.

When he turned back around, the man in the summoning circle was smirking at him, an eyebrow raised and a look on his face that said he knew. Namjoon sighed, walking closer to Jeongguk and the demon.

“Why did you summon a demon, Jeongguk?”

Namjoon stared at the brunette who grew quiet, a soft blush on his cheeks as he spoke quietly, too quietly for Namjoon to hear him. Namjoon rolled his eyes, making the younger repeat himself.

“Taehyung bet me that I wouldn’t be able to get one to come.”

Namjoon tilted his head back, groaning as he did so. Of course it was Taehyung who put the idea into Jeongguk’s head. Why couldn’t the two of them just stick to playing video games instead of doing satanic things that could cost them their lives?

“You’re an idiot, Jeongguk.”

Namjoon looked at the younger once more, who was now staring at the floor shamefully, his hands on his lap . Shaking his head, Namjoon looked at the demon who had a smug smile on his face now, his arms crossed as he stared at the two of them.

“How do we get you out of the apartment?”

Namjoon asked, glancing at Jeongguk who was now also staring at the demon. Switching his attention back to the demon in the middle of the living room, Namjoon played with his fingers nervously.

“Ask me to fulfill your wish, the one who summoned me. Just a warning, whatever you wish, I take something from you. Whether it’s a limb or your soul depends on the size of the wish.”

The demon smirked, sitting down in the summoning circle as he explained. His black hair shifted as he did so, showing a sliver of his forehead, his pink lips had teeth marks on them.

“Fucking hell, Jeongguk. ”

Namjoon sighed, turning to look at the clock that hung on the wall. The glass was cracked, but it still worked somehow. It was nearing ten o’ clock, and Namjoon hadn’t eaten dinner or even started on homework.. He didn’t have time to deal with this, nor did he want to.

“Jeongguk, go next door and get something to eat from Seokjin.”

The brunette looked up at Namjoon, sadness in his eyes as he nodded and began to trudge towards the door. Namjoon rolled his eyes, letting out a breath before speaking once more.

“Jeongguk.”

The boy spun around quickly, staring at Namjoon, his fingers playing with the edge of his shirt. If Namjoon wasn’t slightly upset with him, he would of cooed over how cute he was being.

“Yes hyung?”

Namjoon wouldn’t coo aloud but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t do it in his head. The younger was just too precious, with his big brown eyes looking at Namjoon, curiosity in those chocolate colored orbs.

“Don’t mention the demon to anyone.”

That came out colder than Namjoon meant, but it was better safe than sorry. Jeongguk wasn’t very good at listening to rules, or understanding where the line had been drawn. Namjoon would say that he became like that because of Taehyung, but Jeongguk had always been like that, he couldn’t help it.

“Yes hyung.”

Jeongguk attempted to smile but tears had begun to gather in his eyes, before Namjoon could apologize for being so harsh, Jeongguk had fled the apartment. Namjoon bit his tongue, stopping himself from calling the younger males name.

He had to deal with the demon first, after that he could tell Jeongguk he was sorry. Or after Seokjin let him come back home, it wasn’t the first time Jeongguk had left their shared apartment in tears. Namjoon wasn’t good with feelings, never had been, probably wouldn’t get any better.

Namjoon walked towards the demon, standing a foot away from the black haired male. What looked like a male? Namjoon wasn’t sure if demons had genders, or if they followed their own construct of gender. They were an entirely different species altogether, which would be cool if he wasn’t dangerous, or standing in the middle of his living room.

“Do you always think this much? It’s giving me a headache.”

The demon spoke, raising an eyebrow at Namjoon, waiting for his question to be answered. Namjoon gasped as he stared at the demon, his own eyes probably looking like they were about to fall out of his head. Blinking a few times, Namjoon cleared his throat, trying to collect his thoughts.

“You can hear my thoughts?”

Namjoon asked, his eyebrows furrowing at the thought of someone looking through his thoughts. It didn’t sound pleasant, for either of them actually.

“Yes. I am a male, by the way.”

Namjoon flushed bright pink, choking on his own spit. The demon laughed as he watched Namjoon attempt to breathe. It wouldn’t have been a good sight if Jeongguk came back home, his roommate dead, the demon still in the summoning circle.

“Glad to know.”

Namjoon stumbled over his words, patting his chest as he tried to breathe normally again. When Namjoon was certain that he had his breathing under control, he looked at the demon once more.

“What if I wish to send you back home?’

Namjoon asked, tilting his head as he questioned the demon who smiled at him. White teeth on display for Namjoon to look at, or not, Namjoon was more than a little bit afraid of the pointed teeth.

“You can’t. The kid has to, the one you called Jeongguk?”

The demon wasn’t looking at Namjoon anymore, instead it seemed like he was scanning the room. When his gaze paused at something, Namjoon followed it. The demon was staring at the TV, his eyebrows furrowed, looking confused as he tried to figure out what it was.

“Because he summoned you?”

Namjoon asked, slightly amused as he watched the black haired male continue to stare at the black screen. Namjoon had figured if demons did have genders, they probably had technology, not by the looks of it though.

“No, because he sang me a lullaby.”

The demon rolled his eyes at Namjoon’s question, which now that Namjoon thought about it was a stupid question, but he didn’t have to be rude about it.

“I’m sorry for asking for clarification.”

Namjoon grumbled, his pitch higher than usual, clearly being sarcastic. Which he now knew that the demon understood sarcasm, which made him even more frustrated when the demon smirked and accepted the apology.

“Are you always like this?”

Namjoon spat, stepping away from the summoning circle to get his backpack. If he was going to skip dinner, he needed to do his homework at least. When Namjoon turned back to the summoning circle, there was no demon standing in it. Which made Namjoon panic a little bit, okay, maybe more than a little bit.

Namjoon scanned the living room, looking for the demon. He let out a sigh of relief when he spotted the demon fiddling with the TV.

“How did you get out? Isn’t the ring of salt supposed to keep you trapped?”

Namjoon asked, genuinely curious as he sat down on the couch, backpack on his lap. The demon didn’t bother to face him, only turning his head so he could lock eyes with Namjoon.

“Yeah, if you summon a weak demon. You, well your friend summoned me, the prince.”

He grinned at Namjoon, chuckling when Namjoon choked on his spit again, then returning back to the TV. Namjoon didn’t even bother asking for confirmation of what the black haired demon had just said, instead he calmed himself down, and began to do his homework.

One thing Namjoon had always been grateful for, was his ability to get absorbed in whatever he was doing. Once he was in the zone, it was difficult to knock him out of it. Perhaps this hadn’t been the best moment to get in the zone, as he was supposed to be keeping an eye on the demon. Which Namjoon only remembered when he had finished his homework.

The TV was on, meaning the demon had either figured it out, or Jeongguk had returned home. The fact that the demon was sat next to him, his eyes trained on the TV, Namjoon was willing to bet that it was the first option.

“What’s your name?”

Namjoon asked, making the demon stare at him questioningly, as if not understanding the question.

“My name? You humans cannot pronounce it.”

The demon’s face had scrunched up in a frown, as if he was reminded of something unpleasant. Namjoon instantly knew that he didn’t like that face, which was confusing since he shouldn’t care about how the demon was feeling.

“How hard can it be?”

Namjoon always liked a challenge, perhaps that is why he continued to share a apartment with Jeongguk even though he could afford to live by himself. Barely, but he could afford it.

The demon grimaced before saying something, to which Namjoon guffawed at. Namjoon was fairly certain some of what the demon said wasn’t even letters, instead a screech.

“You were right.”

The demon smiled, yet it looked sad, as if he was reminded of something bittersweet. Maybe it was the human part of Namjoon that didn’t like to see anyone upset, or maybe it was because Namjoon was fond of cute things, that he decided to make the demon happy.

“Why don’t we give you a name? One that I can pronounce preferably.”

Namjoon had shoved his books and papers in his backpack, knowing that he’d regret it when the time to hand it in came. But for right now, his mind was set on coming up with a name for the demon that sat with him on the couch.

“If that’s what you want.”

The demon replied, but Namjoon could tell that there was happiness in his voice. So Namjoon started listing names, pausing between each one to see what the demon thought about them.

“Sungmin?”

The demon grimaced, shaking his head at the name. Namjoon chuckled, slightly amused at his distaste for the name.

“Jinho?”

This time it was a scrunched nose that let Namjoon know that wasn’t it either. Namjoon paused for a moment, looking at the demon, trying to match a name to a face.

“Yoongi?”

The demon paused for a second before slowly nodding, a soft smile on his face. Namjoon beamed, happy that he had helped, that the demon didn’t look sad anymore.

“Yoongi.”

Yoongi said his name softly, trying out the way it felt, the way a new name felt. Namjoon smiled, refraining from ruffling the black hair, perhaps Namjoon wasn’t ordinary. A crush on his roommate, a fondness for a demon, Namjoon wasn’t your average guy.

Jeongguk hadn’t come home when Namjoon was about to go to bed, meaning Seokjin had housed the younger boy for the night. Namjoon would get lectured about it in the morning, and then he would be allowed to eat the breakfast that Seokjin had cooked, because even angry at Namjoon, Seokjin wouldn’t let him starve.

While Namjoon was curling into bed, Yoongi had been watching TV still, intrigued by the people moving on the screen. Namjoon had given Yoongi a pillow and a blanket, told him goodnight, and went to his room.

Namjoon knew that he wasn’t going to go to bed yet, it was always hard to fall asleep. Instead he stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts swimming around his head. Memories of childhood, dreams for the future, Namjoon thought about it all until his eyes forced shut and he was asleep.

Namjoon’s dreams were strange, they always had been. Typical dreams for Namjoon always had an underlying amount of anxiety in them, whether it be the fear that he’s running out of time, or that he was being chased. Any kind of dream always seemed like a nightmare, which led to Namjoon always being disheveled when he woke up.

But that hadn’t happened when he woke up, instead Namjoon felt refreshed. he felt like he was floating. It was odd, not that Namjoon was complaining, he could get used to not feeling like crap when he woke up.

He got out of bed, not bothering to make the bed. Stumbling out of his room, Namjoon walked to the bathroom. Crashing into a few wall on his way there, Namjoon had made it to the bathroom, barely.

Namjoon striped off his clothes, throwing them in the overflowing pile near the door. Turning on the water, Namjoon brushed his teeth while he waited for the water to heat up. It was barely lukewarm when Namjoon had got in, making him shiver before scrubbing himself.

Namjoon groaned when he looked at where they put their soaps. He had run out of soap yesterday, the beginning of his bad day. Taking some of Jeongguk’s soap, Namjoon cleansed himself. As he washed, Namjoon realized that he would now smell like Jeongguk, and while the younger boy didn’t smell bad, it would distract Namjoon.

Rinsing himself off, Namjoon hurried to get out of the now cold shower. When he was certain that he was free of soap, Namjoon stepped out of the shower, wrapping himself in a soft blue towel.

Walking back to his room, Namjoon was humming along to a melody that he didn’t recognize. When he opened up the door, Namjoon barely stopped himself from screaming when he saw Yoongi sitting on Namjoon’s bed.

Yoongi laughed at Namjoon before hopping off of the bed, staring at Namjoon with interest, an eyebrow raised as he approached the lilac haired male. When they were almost face to face, Namjoon standing a little taller then Yoongi.

“Why are you wet, whilst also being naked?”

Namjoon stared at Yoongi, his face red as he thought of a answer. It should have been a easy thing to explain but Namjoon’s mind was racing, making it harder than it needed to be.

“Um, I- I was taking a shower?”

Namjoon stuttered, making it sound like his answer was actually a question, which didn’t help his blush go down any. Namjoon looked down at the ground, finding it a lot more interesting than usual. Hearing Yoongi chuckle, Namjoon flushed harder, looking up slowly to watch the black haired demon.

Yoongi was staring at Namjoon, a smile on his face when he saw Namjoon watching. Yoongi shook his head, a breathy laugh came from him as he waved at Namjoon, exiting the room.

Namjoon stood in place for a minute before stiffly shutting the door. After the door was shut and locked, Namjoon laid on his bed, face down. Letting out a scream into his pillow, Namjoon continued to wail until he felt somewhat better.

When he was no longer such a vibrant shade of red, and was also slightly out of breath, Namjoon sat up. His screaming pillow was next to him, the small carrots reminding him of a certain boy that he kicked out. Shaking his head, Namjoon remembered that he did have to be a funcitional member of society and go to class and work.

So he got dressed, some jeans and a hoodie he found lying around, Namjoon wasn’t very picky with clothes unless he knew he’d be doing an outfit of the day on instagram. Yesterday’s events had been too much for him to worry about his looks, he’d post something tomorrow.

Unlocking the door and heading out of his room, Namjoon saw Yoongi sitting on their counter. A container of takeout in his hands. Sitting in an actual chair was Jeongguk, eating his own box of takeout. When Namjoon got to the table he froze when he realized what the boxes meant.

“Jeongguk, where did you go last night?”

Seokjin would never let the youngest member of their friend group leave in the morning without breakfast, even if Seokjin was rushing, he would of packed it up and sent it with Jeongguk.

“Don’t worry about it, hyung.”

Jeongguk sheepishly smiled, running a hand through his brown hair. Yoongi laughed at the two of them before hopping off of the counter and facing both of them.

“Seriously kid? That’s what you did last night?”

Jeongguk flushed, his cheeks and the tips of his ears became a pink, he glared at Yoongi who scampered away, still laughing. Namjoon felt left out and something else, jealousy? This is why Namjoon didn’t do feelings, they were too confusing and he couldn’t handle them.

“Just stay safe, okay Jeongguk?”

Namjoon wouldn’t wrestle it out of him, even if he was really curious and jealous that the demon knew before he did. Jeongguk beamed at him, he eyes becoming crescents as he nodded.

“Okay!”

If Namjoon didn’t watch what he said, he would have compare Jeongguk to the stars and said that the brunette was prettier. Thankfully Namjoon kept his mouth shut and grabbed a snack on his way out.

God, he was whipped.

Namjoon could hear Yoongi still laughing outside of their apartment, making the lilac haired adult blush again. A smile was on his face as he walked to class, amused as he passed the buildings and alleyways.

A few days had passed and the three of them had settled into a routine, Namjooon would wake up to find both of them in the living room, eat with them or chat for a while and then head to class. On days he worked, he brought food back, if not the had food delivered. Jeongguk would entertain Yoongi until he had to go to his own classes, after that he would return and stay with Yoongi while doing work on his laptop.

Namjoon liked his job, he really did, but sometimes writing song after song became stressful and he had nothing left to write about. Besides, having to write a song that passed as hetero was probably more difficult than just writing a song.

So when it was Friday afternoon and he couldn’t decide on a melody, he gave up and left the studio, texting Jeongguk to see if they needed anything before he went home.

It wasn’t strange for Jengguk to text back when Jeongguk was closer to the apartment but he didn’t usually take long. So after thirty minutes had passed and no answer, Namjoon sped up, his walking turned into a slow run.

He tried to call Jeongguk’s phone while at a cross roads, but there was no answer. So Namjoon pocketed his phone and hurried to the apartment. All sorts of ideas were going through his head, the more logical ones being that Jeongguk could have been in the shower, or his phone died.

The illogical side whispered the thought of someone breaking into their apartment, or that Jeongguk had never made it home after classes. Those illogical thoughts that made his blood run cold and made him feel like he couldn’t breathe.

One foot after the other, right, left. His body was on auto pilot was as Namjoon’s mind ran wild. As he approached the apartment, he was no longer at a slow run, instead he broke into a sprint. His black converse hit the concrete numbly, the sound ringing in his ear.

Climbing the stairs and opening up the door, more frightened that the door hadn’t been locked. Glancing inside, Namjoon froze at the sight of what was happening inside. Instead of what his worry was with thieves or murderers, it was his group of friends.

Taehyung was sat on Jeongguk shirtless stomach, some kind of white foam in the palm of his hand, both of them frozen and looking an Namjoon. Jimin and Hoseok were sat on the couch, watching some drama. Namjoon would bet that Seokjin was in the kitchen, if not the eldest might be at the store or his own apartment getting ingredients.

“Hi Namjoonie!”

Hoseok broke the silence first, making everyone go back to what they were doing. Namjoon sighed, wishing that he could say he was shocked at the state of his apartment, but he’d be lying. He should have expected this when he and Jeongguk had disappeared on their friends like that.

“Hey Hoseok.”

Namjoon waved limply, trying to catch his breath subtly. Thankfully all of his friends were a little wrapped up in what they were doing so Namjoon had enough time to get his breathing under control.

Shutting the door behind him, he dropped his backpack on the floor, ignoring the thump it made when it hit the wood. Stepping over Taehyung and Jeongguk, Namjoon made his way to the kitchen, hoping to get a drink. Unfortunately Seokjin was in the kitchen,and as he caught sight of Namjoon he ushered his outside.

Namjoon would have been offended if it wasn’t well deserved, he wasn’t known to be the best at cooking or doing anything that had to do with fire or sharp weapons. Instead he waited at the entrance to the kitchen where Seokjin had positioned him and waited for the elder to ask what he wanted, rather than asking what the lilac haired male wanted, Seokjin passed his a bottle of tea and went back to cooking.

Namjoon thanked Seokjin, a small smile on his face as he spoke to the elder. Twisting the cap off of the bottle, Namjoon took a sip of the drink. It tasted like strawberries, one of his favorite flavors.

Slipping out of the kitchen once Seokjin’s attention was on the food, he walked to his room, the bottle of tea still clutched in his hand. The fighting from the living room was still heard from the hallway, where Namjoon stood in front of his door.

Opening the door, Namjoon shuffled inside, sighing once he shut the door behind him. He loved his friends, he did, but sometimes after working and going to classes all he wanted to do was lay in his bed and stare at the ceiling for hours.

Of course he could do that once they left, or he could do it now. Now seems like an ideal time to do nothing but daydream.

Flopping on his bed, Namjoon was shocked when he felt a body underneath the covers. His first thought was that it was one of his friends, but all six had been outside of his room when he entered the apartment. His next though was illogical but not as bad as the ones that caused him to run to the apartment in the middle of the night.

Removing the covers, Namjoon braced himself for what he might see. It could be a monster, or a dead body that his friends had found and forgot they put it in his bed. Namjoon was slightly disappointed and relieved to see that it was just Yoongi, and then Namjoon became worried about why he was relieved that it was the demon his roommate had summoned.

“Miss me, pretty boy?”

The demon smirked, his sharp canines on full display as he laughed at Namjoon’s facial expression. Namjoon rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the butterflies that began to cause a ruckus inside of his stomach.

“Not one bit.”

Yoongi clutched his chest dramatically, his dark eyes twinkling mischievously as he replied to Namjoon’s blunt answer.

“You wound me, sweetheart.”

Yoongi smiled, and if Namjoon didn’t know the man was actually a demon, he would have classified it as a sweet smile. Since it was a demon, the prince of demons in fact, Namjoon was more than a little concerned.

Namjoon laid down, ignoring Yoongi’s huff as the demon moved closer to the wall so the lilac haired man wasn’t squishing him. Namjoon stared up at the ceiling, his eyes trained on a brown stain that had been there when they moved in.

His mind wandered, uncaring that the demon next to him could hear his thoughts. Soon enough, Namjoon found his eyelids fluttering shut and he struggled to keep the open. Giving up, Namjoon let his eyelids shut.

Namjoon was being shaken awake, he immediately sat up, looking around to see what was going on. It was dark out, he was still in his room, Yoongi was shaking him awake. Namjoon was about to ask him what the hell was going on when he realized that Yoongi’s eyes were not the dark brown, almost black, they had been before.

“Are you okay?”

Yoongi’s voice shocked Namjoon, not because it had changed but because he started crying. Tears flooded his eyes and fled down his cheeks, Namjoon wiped them away, or tried to.

“I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Namjoon sniffled, trying not to make it awkward. He wasn’t sure why he was crying, he felt empty like there was no emotions, so why was he crying? It was an unusual way to wake up.

“You were having a nightmare, I woke you up since I was done.”

Yoongi’s voice was no longer a whisper, instead it filled up the entire room. Namjoon was confused, what did the demon mean by done? How did Yoongi know he was having a nightmare?

“I eat nightmares in this realm, either that or emotions and I figured you and the kid would prefer the first choice.”

Yoongi said nonchalantly, shrugging as he finished his sentence, his eyes returning to their normal state. Namjoon was still confused but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, so he stood up and wobbled to the bathroom. His legs felt like jelly and he had to hold the wall so his knees wouldn’t buckle under his weight.

Once he had made it to the bathroom, he turned on the lights, seeing himself in the mirror. He was sweaty and his hair was sticking up in every direction, sort of like he had been electrocuted. His eyes were red and glassy, he wasn’t going to be getting most handsome man alive with this look.

Namjoon stripped and turned on the water for the shower, putting it as hot as it could go. Once the room had begun to fill up with steam, he got in. The water burned his skin yet he persevered, spreading soap all over his body to remove the smells he had accumulated over the day.

When he was happy with the coverage his body had gotten, he moved onto his hair. He used the special conditioner Seokjin had got him when they had first bleached their hair together, it was supposedly to bring back nutrients or something along the lines. Truth be told, he only used the soap because it smelled like vanilla and honey.

Rinsing himself off and then just basking in the heat for a few minutes, Namjoon turned the handle and shut the water off. Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a towel and dried off.

When he was mostly dry, he wrapped a towel around his waist and turned off the lights, heading back to his room silently. He wasn’t surprised when he saw that the demon was no longer in the room, figuring that Yoongi had went back to the couch which he had claimed as his spot.

Putting on clothes and putting his phone to charge, Namjoon walked out of his room once more, deciding to head to the kitchen and make a bowl of cereal. It might be two in the morning but his stomach was growling.

Finding out that there were no bowls, he sighed, pouring cereal into a large mug they had instead. Afterwards he poured the milk in, the correct way to do it. Although it was funny to watch people’s face when they realized how Jeongguk made cereal, the eldest of their friend group almost disowned him.

Carrying his bowl over to the couch, where Yoongi was in fact sitting, Namjoon plopped next to him. The black haired male was watching a drama, the same one Hoseok and Jimin had been watching earlier funnily enough.

They sat in silence except for the quiet dialogue of the TV and Namjoon eating his food. When he finished chewing, he chugged the milk that was left over. Setting the mug on the floor, he curled up on the couch.

There was a familiar scent coming from Yoongi that made Namjoon confused as to why he smelt like that. Yoongi smelt like Jeongguk. Which was strange since Namjoon hadn’t even realized Yoongi had a smell to him before.

“Why do you smell like that?”

Namjoon asked the black haired male, making Yoongi tear his eyes away from whatever was going on onscreen. Yoongi tilted his head at first, as if he didn’t understand the question. Then he broke out into a grin, his sharp teeth on full display.

“The kid made me wash myself, can you believe that? My servants usually do that for me, his face when I told him that was worth it though.”

Namjoon could imagine the exact face Jeongguk had made, how wide his eyes got and his mouth opened into a perfect circle, his ears flushed before his cheeks did. Strangely enough, Namjoon wasn’t feeling the pit of jealousy that he normally did when someone got to see that side of Jeongguk.

Instead Namjoon laughed, nodding until he snorted and then continued to laugh at himself this time. At some point when Namjoon had quieted down enough, he could hear Yoongi chuckling along. Sighing when he had gotten all the giggles out of his system, Namjoon leaned back into the couch. A big yawn escaped his lips, his eyes shutting as he opened his mouth.

Ignoring Yoongi’s laughter and the smell of Jeongguk, Namjoon nestled into the warmth from his right side and went to sleep, wishing his dreams would be filled of the boy who smelled like strawberries and cream.

The morning when Namjoon woke up, he was startled as to why his pillow was moving before he caught a glimpse and realized that his pillow wasn’t actually a pillow. Instead it was black haired demon who was smirking at Namjoon, those dark eyes sending the butterflies that resided in Namjoon’s stomach into a frenzy.

“What time is it?”

Namjoon asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes so the particles from the inside of his eyes would fall out. There was no response from Yoongi, only getting a shrug that Namjoon could see in the TV’s reflection as a response.

“Two in the afternoon, hyung!”

Jeongguk called from the kitchen, causing Namjoon to jump in surprise. Instead of the normal butterflies that created havoc in Namjoon’s inside, he felt guilt. Standing up off of the couch, Namjoon rushed to his room, ignoring the glance he got from Yoongi.

Shutting the door behind him, Namjoon slid down the door, his body blocking it so no one could get in. There were so many thought going through his head, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He could hear his heart beating faster and faster until it was giving him a headache.

Clutching his head in his hands, Namjoon sobbed, tears flooding down his cheeks as he cried. Why did he feel guilty? He hadn’t done anything wrong. Yet he couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Was he really falling in love with a demon? What about his crush on Jeongguk?

Was he just going to forget about the three years he spent crushing on the brunette? How Namjoon had met the younger boy when they were in high school, and brought him to his group of friends.

Namjoon cried until he felt tired, until he was emotionally drained and couldn’t bear the thought of moving another muscle, or letting another tear fall. So instead, he laid on the floor and lulled himself to sleep, hoping to avoid his problems in his dreams.

Namjoon wasn’t sure how many days had passed since the day he cried himself to sleep, he had busied himself with his work and his studies. He barely spoke to his roommate or the demon that resided there, he didn’t spend much time at the apartment anymore. Instead he chose to sleep at the studio or forgo sleep, it was better than seeing Yoongi and Jeongguk’s faces.

Their was guilt building up inside of his chest, some days it felt like he couldn’t breathe, other days it felt like it was going to explode out of him and he’d be left alone until he was sick of his own thoughts.

He had been at classes when he got a frantic texts from Jeongguk, which was strange on its own, the brunette was bad at responding and sending texts. The text message was full of gibberish and barely spelled phrases that made no sense to Namjoon.

Namjoon grabbed his bag, grabbed what he had been working on, and left the class. There was an anxiety rush that flooded Namjoon’s consciousness, filling him with dread just like last time. This time before he had even left the campus, Namjoon was already running. He regretted wearing a long sleeved shirt today, even if it had been chilly earlier, he was sweating and probably smelled gross.

Long sleeves or not, Namjoon passed buildings and a park, running past familiar faces. Getting into the apartment complex, going up the stairs two at a time, Namjoon was slightly impressed he had managed to make it there so quickly.

Opening up the door and walking in, dropping his bag by the pile of shoes they had lying around. Namjoon walked into the living room, where he assumed the two would be. He might have been avoiding them but making sure they were safe was more important that him being embarrassed.

Instead of seeing the duo on the couch playing a game or arguing over what to watch, he saw Jeongguk curled up on the couch on Yoongi’s spot. Dread filled Namjoon as his mind raced, if Jeongguk was sitting there, something had truly happened. Yoongi hadn’t let either of them sit there since he had claimed it as his spot, even with Jeongguk teasing that the black haired male was more like a cat than a demon.

“What happened, Jeongguk?”

Once the brunette heard Namjoon speak, Jeongguk shot off of the couch, his hands going to his eyes. It wasn’t usual that the younger cried, especially in front of others. The dread multiplied as Namjoon watched Jeongguk stutter over his words, trying to explain what had happened.

“Deep breaths, Kook. Let’s sit down.”

Obeying Namjoon, Jeongguk sat on the couch, avoiding Yoongi’s spot. Namjoon walked around and joined him, avoiding the spot in the middle of the couch. Jeonnguk took a deep breath and began to speak, fumbling with his fingers as he spoke.

“We were eating lunch and I was talking to Taehyung over the phone and I- I must have said something because the next thing I knew he was gone! S- so I hung up and started looking for him! But I couldn’t find him and I didn’t know what was going on but then I got a text from Seokjin saying that Hoseok confessed and I remembered what Yoongi said when I summoned him!”

Jeongguk cried, his words getting faster and more mumbled as he rambled. Namjoon wasn’t clear on what had happened so he waited for Jeongguk to calm down so he could ask another question.

“What did you wish for?”

That night when Yoongi had been summoned he had said that he could only grant wishes that was equal, that you’d lose something. How big of a wish had Jeongguk accidentally wished for?

“I was talking to Taehyung about Seokjin and Hoseok flirting, I said something like I wish they got together already. But I wasn’t even talking to Yoongi! I didn’t even know he could hear me!”

Jeongguk became frantic once more as he explained, tears gathering in his eyes again. Eventually he wiped his eyes, biting his lip as wiped the tears away. They were both lost in thought, Namjoon trying to figure out a plan to fix everything.

“I’m sorry, hyung.”

Namjoon looked at Jeongguk in confusion, furrowing his eyebrows and tilting his head in a questioning manner. Jeongguk’s eyes were drawn on the floor, not looking at the elder.

“For what?”

It had been an accident, even if it hadn’t been, Namjoon didn’t have a reason to be sad or upset. He wasn’t the one to summon Yoongi in the first place, he hadn’t even spent the most time with the demon, so why was he also crying?

“For whatever I did to make you avoid us, Yoongi wouldn’t tell me why you were upset either.”

This time Jeongguk was looking at Namjoon. Those big brown doe eyes staring at Namjoon, as if he would trust whatever the elder said. That the younger hung on every word that Namjoon said, what he did. For the first time in years, Namjoon realized his love might not seem so hopeless after all.

“You didn’t do anything, I just needed some time, Kook.”

Jeongguk grinned when he heard Namjoon’s answer, his big brown eyes turned into crescents, his nose scrunching as he beamed at Namjoon. The lilac haired man couldn’t resist and smiled as well, standing up.

“Alright, let’s get ready to summon a demon.”

Namjoon said, shaking his head at the sheer strangeness of what he had just said. Jeongguk nodded, throwing his fist in the air while simultaneously letting out a battle cry.

The two of them prepared the summoning just like Jeongguk had before, the salt ring, removing the mirrors in the living room. From there they pushed the couch up against the wall and began to draw the summoning circle.

Namjoon might be smart enough to get good grades and solve math problems off of the top of his head but he wasn’t good at drawing, especially if it was with marker and he only had one chance. So he was on standby while Jeongguk drew the symbols, warning the younger when it was near the best time to do summoning spells.

Jeongguk finished writing, then carefully stepped outside of the summoning circle and the ring of salt. Namjoon wanted to ask where Jeongguk had got the information of how summonings worked, but Namjoon wasn’t sure he would like the answer.

Now all they had to do was wait until the clock showed that it was three in the morning, the hour of demons, something like that actually, Namjoon was still a little hazy on all the details.

Both were standing near the summoning circle, too anxious to sit on the couch pushed near the wall. The clock ticked slowly, the broken glass bothered Namjoon now, even though he had never spared a second to actually care about it before.

“Hyung?”

Jeongguk’s voice made Namjoon stop thinking about clocks and respond with a nod to the younger, who bit his lip before saying what was on his mind.

“I know, it’s alright. If you want I can move out.”

Jeongguk eyes grew bigger as he spoke, still the tiniest bit glassy, like he had just finished crying. His whole face was a little puffy and red, not unlike how Namjoon would see him in the mornings after a tiring all nighter.

But this time it was different, the whole situation was different, it wasn’t some small choice that would mean nothing. This was something Namjoon had avoided talking about for so long, not only with Jeongguk but with everyone else too. Maybe that’s why Namjoon missed Yoongi, the demon was the only one who knew what he was thinking, quite literally.

“W- what do you mean?”

Namjoon’s voice cracked at the beginning of his sentence, making him more flustered than needed. Jeongguk hadn’t even noticed, he was too lost in himself to even realize what Namjoon had said, or so Namjoon thought.

“I know you like him, hyung. Yoongi. It’s alright. I- if he makes you happy that it’s okay.”

Jeongguk stuttered, giving Namjoon a smile that looked like a grimace instead. That’s what this was about. Namjoon knew it had to come up at some point, he had just hoped that it wouldn’t be for the next decade.

“Jeongguk, how come you’re so oblivious to crushes on you but you know about the others? It’s like you’ve got pow-”

Namjoon sentence was cut off by the alarm ringing, scaring both of the boys before snoozing itself. Jeongguk quickly began reading Latin off of his phone, walking towards the circle but staying far enough that if he accidentally summoned something besides Yoongi, it wouldn’t be able to grab him.

Jeongguk became quiet once he finished the summoning spell, everything was silent as they waited, holding their breath.

Nothing happened.

There was no demon inside of their house, was he truly gone? Namjoon checked the clock, realizing that time had passed and was no longer three am, instead the clock read three thirty three am, more time had passed than he expected.

“Jeong-”

“Hyung, look!”

Namjoon’s sentence was cut off Jeongguk this time, but Namjoon wasn’t upset, how could he be upset when he saw the summoning circle open up, a demon floating above of the marker. Both of the boys were holding their breath unconsciously, nervous that it might not be Yoongi.

“You two? Again?”

It was Yoongi. Black hair and everything. He was back. Namjoon hadn’t even realized he was hugging Yoongi until he felt Jeongguk wrap his own arms around the two.

The salt ring was all over their socks but neither of them cared, it was useless to keep Yoongi away, anyway. Although it was useless for him, Namjoon wished that they could’ve saved all that salt.

“Can you let go of me?”

Yoongi chuckled, squirming out of the hug. Jeongguk let go first, Namjoon following after. For the moment, Namjoon was happy to have the both of them around.

A few hours had passed, all three of them had fallen asleep on the couch, even though Yoongi didn’t need to sleep and Namjoon had falling asleep. They didn’t mean to, summoning a demon takes a lot of energy out of you.

When Namjoon woke up, he was curled around Jeongguk, who was clasping onto Yoongi’s hand like he was afraid to let him go. Rolling off of the couch that should have been to small for them to fit, he got a glass of water, drank it and then rinsed out the cup.

When he returned to the living room, he found Yoongi sitting up, staring at Namjoon with the same eyes that he had that night where he fed off of Namjoon’s nightmare.

“Wake him up, Yoongi. You should at least tell him what you do before feeding on him.”

Yoongi smirked, shrugging as his eyes returned to their dark brown. Once his pupils returned their color, he shook Jeongguk awake. Jeongguk sat up, looking around to see where he was.

“We’ve gotta talk, Kook.”

Namjoon said, sitting next to Jeongguk on the couch. The younger nodded, running a hand through his hair as he yawned. Only Yoongi looked startled by the statement.

“We do?”

Jeongguk and Namjoon nodded simultaneously, glancing at Yoongi before speaking at the same time.

“We do.”

Yoongi grimaced but kept silent, letting Namjoon speak what was on his mind, even if it did have the chance of messing up his entire friendship and then he’d have to move out and become homeless.

“I like you. You probably know already since you can hear the whole mind thing but I needed to say it loud.”

Namjoon began, pausing when he saw Yoongi smile widely, exposing his canines and gums. Jeongguk was also smiling, but it wasn’t the nose scrunch one that Namjoon loved, instead it was filled with fake happiness.

“I’m happy for you, hyung.”

Jeongguk added, his fake smile getting smaller. His gaze was on the floor, just as it had been earlier. Namjoon shifted how he was sitting so he was facing Jeongguk, taking a deep breath, Namjoon continued exposing his feelings.

“But I also like you Jeongguk, I have for three years now. I like how you’re so stupidly cute and how much you like overwatch, how you keep doing dumb bets that will definitely end you up in the hospital. I like you too.”

At some point Namjoon had grabbed Jeongguk’s hands, their fingers intertwined as Namjoon poured out his heart to try to make amends and avoid any miscommunications they might have had. For the first time, Namjoon wasn’t running away from his problems, he wasn’t avoiding or ignoring them either. He was facing what had made him anxious, what had kept him up.

Jeongguk was looking up at Namjoon, his eyes wide and sparkling as he stared at the lilac haired man. The moment was broken when the heard Yoongi speaking, seeing him nod his head.

“It’s true, he’s really in love with you, like past how in love Minhyuk was with Bongsoon.”

Jeongguk and Namjoon started to laugh, amused at the demon’s love for dramas, he’d already watched six complete series. At one point they caught him tearing up at Goblin, Yoongi would deny that though.

“I like you too, and Yoongi. ”

Jeongguk preened at the elders, his eyes became crescents as he scrunched his nose, sending Namjoon’s stomach into somersaults, falling deeper in love with the younger male.

Perhaps the couch was too small for all three of them, but that could be fixed. Maybe Yoongi complained about the TV being too small and they had to be on top of each other to see, but Namjoon and Jeongguk knew that out of the three of them, Yoongi loved to cuddle. Most importantly, they were infatuated with each other and nobody could stop Namjoon from loving his boyfriends.

(Bonus: The trio had invited their group of friends over, it went as well as it could have in Namjoon’s opinion. Sure, Jimin and Yoongi began to argue over who Bongsoon should have ended up with, and yeah, maybe Hoseok and Seokjin could have stopped egging them on. Namjoon was just glad that Jeongguk had decided that the best way of revenge to get on Taehyung was to throw a plate of whipped cream at him, but it turns out that Taehyung is more agile then planned and the next thing Namjoon knows is that he’s covered in whipped cream.

The group laughs, amused as Namjoon grumbles, cleaning the cream off of his face. It’s only a few minutes later when he’s leaving the bathroom, after rinsing off his face does he get stopped by Jeongguk and Yoongi.

The pair wear matching smirks, and Namjoon knows he’s in trouble as Yoongi whispers in Namjoon’s ear.

“You looked good in whipped cream, sweetheart. What’s the chance we can do it again tonight, with a little less company preferably.”

Namjoo whimpered, biting his own lip as he tugged on Jeongguk’s hand, trying to stop the younger from touching his ass. It only spurred the younger on, Jeongguk’s hand was now placed firmly on Namjoon’s muscle.

“Why wait, hyung? We’ve got a whole room to ourselves, don’t we?”

Jeongguk questioned flirtatiously, letting go of Namjoon’s ass before walking into the lilac haired man’s room, Yoongi following after, can of whipped cream held tightly.

Sparing one glance towards the living room, Namjoon rushed towards his room, locking the door behind him.

What they others didn’t know wouldn’t kill them, besides if they hear them, they would probably leave, right?)

26 notes · View notes

natasha-cole · 7 years ago

Text

Ready Steady Part 22

Summary: Reader and Rob begin to breathe a little easier knowing that Chris is no longer a concern. Rob makes a big decision that puts the Reader in an awkward position. How will she react?

Word Count: 5792

Warnings: angst, anxiety, panic attack, fluff, soooo much fluff

Note: For the sake of the remainder of the fic, I’m using some old Louden Swain songs and making them new ones. Also, as you can tell, my reader is a singer/songwriter and a country girl at heart… so for her, instead of trying to write my own lyrics, I’m using songs by Miranda Lambert and claiming them as the reader’s own. Hey, this way, you can listen to the actual songs after you read!

Rob and Reader sing “Pushin’ Time” by Miranda Lambert again.

Another Note: I didn’t want to leave you with another cliffhanger, but I really can’t help it anymore.

Catch up: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

When the panic attack had subsided, you had finally eaten breakfast and spent the entire morning lying in bed. You watched some shows, dozed off here and there, and ordered more room service when you got hungry that afternoon. It had been a lazy day for you. At one point you decided to check emails, which had taken over your inbox since you had ignored it all for some time now. You had multiple emails from your manager who had been questioning whether you were going to finish recording any time soon. You still hadn’t explained to him your current situation and the fact that you needed to take a break from work. The last thing on your mind right now was finishing with your recording. You had already ignored phone calls from him for week, not wanting to deal with it, but you considered at least shooting him an email.

You typed up a quick reply, not wanting to go into too much detail. You explained that some things were going on and you would call him once you returned to L.A. You left it at that, feeling bad that you had bailed on everything. A career that you had wanted so badly had been right at your doorstep, you had performed new material, and you were so close to being done with recording. As usual, it had all been put on hold. You knew you were in no condition to even consider going back into the studio, nor could you perform at this time. It was just something that would have to wait even longer.

You finally considered joining everyone else at the convention later that evening. Lying in bed alone all day had you realizing how much you desperately missed Rob. You hadn’t been alone in some time; and although you felt that you needed it, it was causing you more anxiety than you had expected. Glancing at the time on your phone, you knew Rob was busy. He had promised to bother you with text messages while he was working, but he had really only been able to send a few just to check on you. Your replies had been brief and you thought about cluing him in about the panic attack you had just experienced, but as always, your fear of causing him to worry too much stopped you. Still, you wanted to see him. Climbing out of bed finally, you started to get ready, considering just heading down to the convention yourself. Another wave of panic struck you though at the idea of doing that alone. You knew you were safe for now. Chris was in custody and what he had done was grounds for a felony charge. But, you still couldn’t help but feel fearful of wandering down there alone.

It was irrational, you knew that. You began to wonder where the other you had gone; the one who was willing to leave your safe zone knowing full well that Chris was around. You wondered why you had spent years just dealing with whatever it was that Chris threw at you, playing off your abuse as “hey, it could’ve been worse”. You were no longer so nonchalant and used to the abuse. For the first time in years, you were actually afraid. Even knowing that you were technically safe at this very moment; you were a mass of anxiety and fear.

You grabbed your phone again, deciding that it was a better idea to have someone meet you at the room and walk with you. You chose not to bother Rob or Rich since they seemed to be the busiest people at the conventions.

You chose Kim. Kim had been your saving grace for the past few months. More than anyone else, she had helped you out through all of this; never judging you, always encouraging you, and still sticking up for you. If you couldn’t have Rob with you right now, you would certainly feel safe having Kim with you. You quickly found her name and opened up a new text message.

Y/N: Hey Kim, do you have a minute?

You moved toward the bathroom, expecting it to be a minute before she could reply, but glancing down at your phone you saw that your message had already been read.

Kim: hey! Yeah, I always have time for you!

Y/N: I wanted to come down to the con…

You thought about how to ask her to walk with you without sounding like a scared child about it.

Y/N: but I was hoping you could help me cover up these bruises first. I don’t want anyone to see me like this.

Kim: of course! Briana and I were waiting for you to come down. We have everything we need.

Y/N: do you have time to maybe come to my room instead?

You felt really bad for asking, knowing you would also be pulling them away from work and spending time with their friends.

Kim: we are on our way.

You smiled as you read her message. They really were too good to you. You felt a moment of gratefulness. Maybe you didn’t have a family to call your own, but Rob and his friends were more than you could ever ask for.

You tossed your phone on the bed and made your way to the bathroom. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you flinched in disgust when you saw the marks on your neck again. You had been here before. It’s not like this hadn’t been a common occurrence when you were with Chris. In fact, it had happened so often that you just became used to hiding the bruises. This time however, it disgusted you. Seeing these bruises, knowing that he did this to you again; made you angry. Even worse, it made that twinge of panic creep up in the back of your mind again. You felt yourself get dizzy again and you gripped onto the counter as you continued to stare at yourself in the mirror. Through the dizziness and the now growing shortness of breath, you glanced down at your belly. Placing your hand over your bump, you now felt guilty. There was another panic attack brewing within you and you couldn’t stop it. Your guilt was from the fact that, not only was your anxiety bad for you, but it was probably worse for your baby. Why couldn’t you stop this?

You must have been standing there for some time, trying to steady your breathing to fight off the anxiety; because you heard a knock at your door. You knew it had to be Kim and Briana. Part of you considered ignoring them for now so that they couldn’t see that you were struggling with the situation at the moment. The other part of you wanted them here. You wanted them to see and to know what you were going through. Mostly, you just wanted Rob.

Still dizzy, you made your way out of the bathroom toward the door, using your hands to guide you along the walls of the room. Your breathing became more and more erratic and you began to feel your hands and face go numb. By the time you reached the door, tears were streaming down your face as you sobbed loudly without even meaning to. You shakily opened the door, immediately greeted by Kim and Briana, whose smiles quickly fell when they saw the state that you were in. The ladies rushed in, taking hold of you as you allowed yourself to collapse into their arms. You let yourself cry, knowing that you really didn’t have a choice. You were in full panic mode and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

The women practically carried you to your bed, offering hushed whispers of “it’s okay,” and “we’re here, Y/N.” All you could do was cry and do nothing about the shaking in your body and the tightness in your chest. You cradled your belly, still worried about what all of this would do to the baby. You sat on the bed as Kim and Briana sat on either side of you, each running hands along your back to try to relax you.

You watched as Briana got her phone out, knowing that she was going to call Rob. You reached a hand up and covered her own hand and the phone, shaking your head to indicate that you didn’t want that. You had been such a burden to Rob as it was, you didn’t need to add on to it. Briana gave you a disapproving look and you were able to form a few words for her.

“Please, don’t. Not now,” you said in between short breaths. The girls continued to sit with you, trying to sooth you as the attack began to pass. Thankfully, they didn’t ever last long. Sure, they were scary as hell, but you started to feel better as your breathing steadied and the tightness in your chest subsided. Kim and Briana also felt the relief as you began to feel better.

“Are you okay?” Kim asked, still running her hand along your back.

“I-I’m okay. I just… I don’t know why this keeps happening. I should be relieved knowing that Chris is gone for now. But I can’t help but to feel so afraid.”

“What do you mean? This has happened before?” She asked.

“Yes, this morning, after Rob left.”

Briana sighed, “Y/N, this has happened twice in one day? You’ve got to tell Rob.”

“I know, and I will. But, I just don’t want to bother him. I don’t want to pull him away from what he’s doing. I can’t keep doing that to him.” You rubbed your hands together, attempting to help the numbness in your fingers dissipate.

“You’re his first priority,” Kim added, “as it should be. You and that baby.”

“I know,” you mumbled, rubbing your belly again, “I’ll talk to him after the concert tonight. I can’t make him worry before that. It’s bad enough that he can’t even play guitar because of me. By the way,” you turned to look at Kim, “how is your hand? Rob’s is pretty messed up after he hit Chris.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Kim replied, holding her hand up for you to get a better look. She had no bruising, unlike Rob. “it hurts a little, but I also didn’t hit the guy in his nose.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” you said, “I’m still sorry you had to get involved in that.”

“Totally worth it though,” Kim smiled, “I’d be happy to punch him again.”

You forced a smile, remembering why you had called them here in the first place, “hey, can we do something about this?” you asked, lifting your head to give the girls a better look at your injuries. “I really want to be at the show tonight.”

“Yeah, we can cover most of it up I think,” said Briana.

“Good. I’ve also got a cute scarf from Ruth that can hide most of it.”

“Well, let’s get this done before we miss the concert,” Kim started as she checked the time on her phone.

When the bruising was covered as much as it could be, you threw the scarf around your neck and decided that you could finally show your face at the con without worrying about people seeing anything. You followed Kim and Briana downstairs, relieved that you would make it in plenty of time for the concert. If there was anything in this world that made you feel better, it was seeing Rob performing. He had been texting you throughout the day, checking on you and practically begging you to be sure to make it for the show.

When you finally arrived to the greenroom, you spotted Rob across the room and quickly made your way to him. He noticed you as you drew closer, that amazing smile forming on his lips. When you finally reached him, you practically fell into his arms. You just wanted to feel him hold you by this point.

“H-hey,” he stuttered as you wrapped your arms around him, letting your head rest against his chest. You breathed out as he returned the embrace. You felt his hands grip into your back as hip lips placed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I missed you,” you said, not letting him go.

“I missed you too,” he chuckled, “are you okay?”

“I am now,” you replied as you pulled back from the embrace to look him in the eyes. He reached up to cup your face in his hand, allowing his thumb to trace along your skin.

“What’s going on?” he asked. He looked at you curiously, obviously not completely convinced that you were telling the truth.

“Nothing,” you began. You weren’t sure if you really wanted to bring this up at this current moment, especially since he was due on stage very soon. “I just… had a bit of a moment earlier.”

Rob frowned, “what kind of moment?”

“A panic attack… or two?” you responded, raising your shoulders and scrunching up your face as if you were questioning it yourself.

“Two?” He asked. He ran his hand over his face.

“It’s fine, I’m just having a hard time getting past what happened.”

Rob let out a heavy sigh before pulling you in for another hug, “Y/N, why didn’t you call me?”

“Because you’re busy and you have a life other than me,” you stated. it was true, he couldn’t continuously drop what he was doing to help you deal with your anxiety. “besides, they pass pretty quickly.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he pulled back again, bringing your eyes up to meet his, “promise me that you will always talk to me if you ever feel like that again. No putting it off, no hiding it.”

You nodded your head. It actually felt really nice having him be so insistent on knowing how you were feeling at all times, even if you were on the verge of a breakdown.

“You’ve got a lot going on in your mind, I know you do. You don’t talk about it often, but don’t think that I’m not aware.” He had you found out. As he spoke, you realized that your behavior hadn’t really gotten any better. If anything, you were still pretty damn good at pushing him away. Truthfully, you had been waiting for something to finally click with him so that he would realize that he was wasting his time on a broken girl who was difficult to love. It was moments like this that you knew you were wrong about him. “We’re doing so well, please know that you can talk to me about anything. I’m here to help you get through this.”

“Okay,” you whispered. You gave him a smile as he leaned in to kiss you on the lips.

“We gotta be on stage soon,” he added, “you’ll be out there, right?”

“Of course,” you responded, “wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He ran his hand along the scarf draped over your neck, eyeing you. “You can’t even tell,” he said, obviously examining Kim and Briana’s work.

“The girls are really good with makeup,” you giggled.

He didn’t say anything else, he only wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you in so that he could kiss you. Rob pressed harder into you, parting your lips with his own. He deepened the kiss, and you melted into it. You hadn’t known it beforehand, but it was exactly what you needed. You just needed him to remind you that he wanted you, that he loved you.

You sat back as everyone around you prepared for the concert. The energy in the room was high, people laughing and talking excitedly. You watched them move about, and couldn’t help but smile at the fact that the events from the previous day hadn’t spoilt the rest of the convention. The last thing you wanted was more attention on you. You reveled in the moment of just being left alone for the time being, until Rich found you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said as he sat next to you, “how are you doing?” He looked at you with genuine concern and you knew what he was referring to.

“I’m fine mostly,” you assured him, “I’d be better if people stopped bringing it up though.” You hadn’t meant to sound so harsh toward him, but it was true. If everyone would stop talking about it and asking you if you were okay, you’d probably deal with it better. Of course, you weren’t okay. You were currently a mess and on edge most of the time, worrying that you’d panic again.

“I’m sorry,” he said awkwardly. He moved his eyes from yours, looking a bit ashamed at having brought it up.

“No, I’m sorry,” you sighed at his reaction, “I know you’re just checking on me, and I appreciate it, but it’s hard to deal with everything when it’s always right in my face; you know?”

“I get it, and I won’t bring it up again.”

“Thank you,” you placed a hand on his arm, grateful that he was willing to drop the topic completely.

“Look, I’ve already got to go,” Rich said as he noticed the rest of the cast heading for the door, “looks like we’re starting. But,” he turned his attention back to you, “I just wanted to give you a heads up… don’t be surprised if Rob maybe… possibly mentions you tonight and, by mentions you, I mean draws attention to you.”

You frowned, “what do you mean?”

“I can’t really say, and I told him to at least give you warning, but I know he didn’t.” Rich stood up, now looking down at you. “Just, don’t be surprised. And it’s nothing to freak out about… just go with it.”

You felt your heartbeat quicken as Rich turned and exited the room with everyone else. What did he mean? What was Rob going to do? You couldn’t help but to feel a bit of anxiety over knowing that something was going to happen but you didn’t have details as to what it was. The only thing that eased your mind slightly was knowing that Rob would never put you in a scary situation and he would never do anything to hurt you. You finally came to the conclusion that maybe he was finally ready to be open about the fact that he was in a relationship. You both knew that the fans knew about you. There were the pictures from Nashville and even pictures from the Louden Swain show that you had been at where Rob had no qualms over kissing you and signing to you in front of everyone. Of course the fans knew. Maybe he just wanted to confirm it. Or, maybe he was ready to make the announcement about the baby. You were through the first trimester, and it was a good time to make the announcement. You just weren’t sure about announcing it to a room full of fans. The thought made you nervous. You didn’t understand the fan relationship really since you were always a behind-the-scenes kind of person in the music industry.

Whatever it was that Rich had meant… whatever it was that Rob was up to, you relaxed with the knowledge that it would be okay.

A volunteer escorted you to your seat in the theater. You wanted to watch from the crowd, it was your favorite way to see the band play. Backstage was no way to experience a concert. You thanked the volunteer as you took your seat which was a few rows from the stage and off to the right. Not as close as the first time you had seen Rob play, but you weren’t complaining. You looked around the room at the faces of the excited fans, a grin spreading across your face just knowing that these people were here to see the guys play. Occasionally, you’d catch the stares of a few people around you. Some would stare at you, then turn when you noticed them to talk to the person next to them. You chuckled, wondering if you had been recognized.

As you began to relax more in your seat, the show finally started.

You watched them play, with the same excitement that you felt the first time you saw them in Nashville. It didn’t matter, every time they played… no matter where they were, it was always an amazing performance. This time however, you felt it was strange to see Rob perform without playing a guitar. Your eyes fell to his injured hand and your chest tightened when you remembered what had happened. Yes, he had hurt it because of you… but more importantly, he had hurt it defending you. The thought made you feel butterflies again. You decided to no longer feel bad about it, but now you felt extremely lucky to have a man like him.

You caught yourself singing along to the songs with the rest of the crowd, finally feeling like you fit in. The set was similar to the one you had seen in Nashville, so it was easy to sing along. Only this time, there were a few guests who joined the bad to sing. Kim, Briana, Ruth, Matt… Rich obviously joining to play bass.

When Rob started “She Waits”, you realized it was getting closer to the end of the set. So, you tried hard to really enjoy the last few songs. You watched intently as he sang. You loved the way he sang any song, but this one was especially important to him and you couldn’t help but be amazed at how intense and emotional he became every time he sang it.

The usual happened. The band exited, only to return again for an encore. You knew they would probably sing “Amazing” and they would definitely sing “Medicated.” So, you waited excitedly since you really loved “Medicated.” It was always fun; not just for the band and the cast, but for the fans as well. Instead of going right into the first song of the encore, Rob got to the mic and began to talk. You felt your nerves act up again when you realized that he was, in fact, talking about you.

“A little while ago,” he began, “I met someone by chance, and she turned out to be probably the most important person in the world to me.”

You felt your face flush with embarrassment as you watched him scan the room for you. You moved down in your seat to try to hide, smiling like a fool at the same time.

“I know she’s here,” Rob continued, “and I was hoping she’d come join me up here for a moment.”

Rich had been right. Rob had, in fact, just called you out in front of everyone. You had expected him to simply tell everyone you were his girlfriend, but you didn’t expect this. You knew you couldn’t leave him hanging up there by refusing to take the stage, but the nervousness was overwhelming. You started to shake your head in response, even knowing he couldn’t actually see you.

You wanted to go to him, but you froze. You could feel eyes on you and when you looked around, you realized that a lot more people knew who you were than you could have ever expected. Much of the audience in your area were looking right at you.

“Y/N?” You heard Rob call your name from the stage. You had definitely been spotted by him finally. You caught his gaze the best you could, pleading silently with him to stop. But, he only smiled at you, still waiting for you to join him. You felt the person next to you nudge your arm and you turned to look at her. She gave you an encouraging smile and said, “Go!” You nodded at her, feeling a lot more calm when you realized that she wasn’t shooting you dirty looks. You knew that had always been your main issue with being noticed by Rob’s fans. You didn’t want to deal with the jealousy that you thought often came along with fandom. For some reason, this woman’s simple encouragement made you realize that maybe, his fans just weren’t that way.

Before you realized it, you were willing yourself to stand up. You scooted past the other people in the row of seats, heart still racing. You clutched your belly protectively, now wondering if they could all tell now that literally every eye in the room was on you.

You walked to the side of the stage, stopping for a moment to look at Rob. He motioned for you to keep going, keeping that sweet smile on. You finally did as he had asked and stepped on to the stage. When you got to him, he embraced you and you took the moment to try to figure out what was going on.

“What are you doing?” you hissed in his ear. The idea of being in front of all these people had you now on edge.

“It’s okay,” he laughed, “trust me.”

He let you go and moved back to the microphone.

“This is Y/N, I’m sure most of you have seen her around,” the audience cheered which caught you off guard slightly since you were expecting “boos” to start at any minute.

“She’s your girlfriend!” someone shouted from the crowd. Rob laughed at the outburst.

“Yes, she is. But, she’s also a really amazing songwriter who happens to have an even more amazing voice,” He turned his head to face you, motioning for you to come closer. “And, if it’s okay with her, I was hoping we could sing a song that we wrote together.”

The crowd cheered louder now and Rob moved to grab a guitar which he brought back to you. You took it from him hesitantly as you spoke to him.

“Really, what are you doing?”

“Come on, you’ve done this before. I saw you at your show, you poured your heart out in front of those people and you haven’t been on stage since. You put everything on hold for me, and for our son. It’s time.” He brushed a hand against your stomach as you held the guitar at your side.

You realized that he hadn’t stopped thinking about you and your career. You had often thought about when you would ever be able to finish recording, when you would be able to perform again. You hadn’t thought about the possibility of Rob caring about all of that.

“You’ve got to play,” he said, holding up his hand to remind you that he couldn’t, “Let’s do ‘Pushin’ Time’”

“We’ve sang it once,” you argued, feeling nervous that you wouldn’t remember it, “what if I fuck up?”

“You won’t. You got this.”

You adjusted the guitar, standing at the microphone as Rob moved to the next one over. You cleared your throat as you tried to look out into the crowd. Luckily, you were mostly blinded by the lights, so you couldn’t really tell just how many people were watching you. You swallowed hard and began to strum the tune. Rob had really put you at the center of attention, and although you were nervous as hell, you glanced over at him again and just seeing his face light up at the realization you were actually going to do this made your worries dissipate.

You started to sing, just as you had done with Rob in the privacy in his home. You started the first verse shakily, not sure if you could gather your composure at this point.

Are we fools for rushing in? ‘Cause already dread the end Lonely ain’t no place to start I guess thats just where we are

You breathed a little easier, focusing on playing the right notes as Rob took over the next verse, just as he had done the only other time you had sang the song together.

Oh, how I remember well The sunset on April 12th I disappeared to get a drink You still kept your eyes on me

You joined him in the chorus again. You suddenly began to feel less nervous. There was something about having him there with you, singing with you. Your voices blended together and you felt the familiar shivers down your spine at the sound.

Sometimes love acts out of spite And good things happen over night Can’t take it slow 'cause you and I are pushin’ time

When it was your turn for the next verse, you glanced over to Rob who met your gaze. He smiled at you, and you couldn’t help but sing just for him. In that moment, you knew there were hundreds of people watching the two of you, but you felt as if they had disappeared; so it was only you and him, singing to each other again.

I didn’t plan on falling fast I didn’t know I could be kissed like that Now I’m trading miles for minutes This bed’s too big without you in it

You both made it through the chorus again, and you watched Rob intently as he took the last verse. You really did love this man. Just the fact that he had pulled you up here to sing the song that you had written together, the song that was about the two of you and this whirlwind of a romance that you had both fallen into; it made you happy to know that he didn’t care what anyone thought of your relationship. He was in this with you and only you.

Sometimes love acts out of spite And good things happen over night Can’t take it slow 'cause you and I are pushin’ time Can’t take it slow 'cause you and I are pushin’ time

You strummed out the final notes, surprised that you had managed to play the song all the way through with no mistakes. While you had started out nervous as hell, you now felt very comfortable up there with him as the audience cheered for the two of you.

Rob walked toward you, taking your hand as you waved to the fans. You laughed as he helped you remove the guitar and returned it to its spot behind you.

“Thank you,” you said as he hugged you again, “that was actually a lot of fun.”

He pulled back and kissed you, right there in front of everyone. You could almost hear the fans screaming louder as you lost yourself in his kiss for a moment. When he was done, you gripped his hand and moved to make your way off the stage finally. That had been enough attention for one night and you were happy to let him get back to performing with his band. Before you could take a step, he gripped your hand tighter and pulled you back so that he could stand in front of the microphone.

“Hold on,” he said to you, not letting go of your hand, “there’s one more thing…”

You cocked your head at him out of curiosity. Surely this night couldn’t be filled with any more surprises. He finally let go of your hand once he was sure you were staying put so that he could take the mic from its stand, then he began to speak again. You expected him to address the audience, but he instead faced you, eyes never leaving your face as he spoke.

“We’ve been through a lot together,” he started; this time, attempting to take your hand again with his own injured hand. You chuckled at his attempt and held onto him softly as he continued, “It’s been really crazy and really difficult sometimes; but I want you to know that I love you and I always have.”

You felt your face flush again. Why was he saying all of this in front of everyone? Your mind began to race with thoughts of what was going on.

“From that moment that I met you in Nashville, I knew you were it for me. I knew you were the one. And we didn’t expect everything to happen so quickly, but it did. Now, we’re starting a family, and I couldn’t be happier about that.” He moved his bandaged hand to your belly as he said the words. You were sure the entire room had finally been validated in their thoughts that you might be pregnant.

“What are you doing, Rob?” you finally spoke, still unsure of what was happening.

You caught a hint of a sly smile cross his lips. He let go of your hand suddenly, moving the mic to his bad hand the best he could, and reached into the pocket on the inside of his waistcoat. He fumbled for a moment, and you couldn’t help but notice that he had become very nervous about something suddenly. When he found what he was searching for, he regained his composure, still holding the mic in his bad hand as he reached back with the other to take your hand yet again. You felt something in his palm and he gripped your hand tightly. You tried to move a bit, to see if you could figure out what it was, but his grip only tightened as you did so. You narrowed your eyes at him in confusion as he dropped to one knee on the stage.

Your heart stopped briefly, still unsure of what was happening, but knowing exactly what this looked like. Rob moved the microphone back to his lips and continued to speak.

“Y-you have to know how happy you make me. You have to know how much I love you,” he began to stutter, growing nervous again. You smiled at how adorable he was when he was in this moment. You weren’t positive, but you had a good idea of what was happening now.

“Rob,” you said, hoping he could hear you. You realized that the audience had grown silent, they too were waiting for… whatever this was.

“Y/N, w-will you make me the luckiest man in the world?” He paused for a moment and you looked into his eyes that were now almost pleading with you. He was now a wreck, and you weren’t sure if he could make it through whatever it was that he was about to ask.

“Rob,” you said again, this time feeling tears well up in your eyes. You couldn’t believe this was happening right now, but you were sure it was. He grinned at the sound of your voice and he continued.

“Y/N… will you marry me?”

Tag List: @tas898, @wolfyangel-is-a-pluviophile, @narisjournal-blog, @dont-hate-relate-pls, @waywardswain, @nerdyforyourbooks, @perksofbeingafangirl26, @crowley-you-sinnamon-roll, @pepperwoodatnight, @idk-fandom, @please-stop-killing-dean, @b-northington, @sclerafantrash, @itsilvermorny, @jannalionheart, @feelmyroarrrr, @capital-eyyyy-ohhh, @prlncess-nuala, @nekodresden85, @thebookisbtr, @internationalfandomgirl, @smoothdogsgirl, @chantelle-c333. @emilywells19 @laffytaffyhumor @lucifersxvessel @thefelinemedia78 @onlyanothersocialcasualty @typicalweirdbookworm @littleshone @a-queen-and-her-throne @fandooomqueenforyou @spnackleholicswainer @omgitss0y @girl-next-door-writes @destielschild @fangirl1855 @your-not-invisible-to-me @bea789 @a-michellerae-things @multi-fan-dom-madness @winchestergirl-13 @ncisgothchick

#rob benedict fan fiction #rob benedict x reader #ready steady

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throughtimetoyou · 7 years ago

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Through Time to You

Chapter 8: In With The New

Other chapters

Edward Kenway x Reader

Summary: You are a young woman living your life in the 21st century when you mystically end up to West Indies during the Golden Age of Piracy. Slow-burn.

Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Semi-Explicit Sexual Content, more warnings might be added as the series continues

Rating: Explicit

Your vision was blurry when the light crept in to the small space. You tried to make your eyes focus to see in front of you, but it was hard. You had readied yourself to strike and run when the door was opened, but there was not even a silhouette of a guard in front of you. You blinked furiously to get rid of the blurriness.

The view was slowly getting clearer with each blink. You hadn’t had a very good chance to closely observe the yard before you had hid in the shed, but the scene before you definitely wasn’t it. You were indoors somewhere, and on your left there was a gridded box that somehow reminded you of that death-trap of an elevator in the apartment house where your apartment was.

Wait, what?

That box definitely was the death-trap of an elevator in the apartment house where your apartment was. You looked around you, your vision now as clear as crystal. Tears suddenly filled your eyes. Slowly you turned around and saw a half-open door. The second that it took for you to move your gaze to the nameplate above the letterbox felt like eternity, but there it was, your last name on it.

“I’m…” you whispered, but tears drowned the word ‘home’.

You took a step. Then another one. Soon you were inside your apartment. Everything was exactly how you had left it. The dishes of your latest breakfast in your home were still next to the sink in the kitchen.

It didn’t feel like a dream. You didn’t want it to be a dream.

You pressed to the living room and took your phone from your pocket, trying to turn it on. The battery had already died. “Damn it”, you muttered and kneeled onto the floor next to the couch to grab the end of the charger that was there and plug the phone in. It took forever for your phone to wake up while you were hurrying it up. As silly as it was, you almost burst into another set of tears when you saw the 3G symbol appearing to the top of the screen after entering your PIN. You began going through your contacts. You chose the number and put the phone on your ear. You were tapping your nails against the floor impatiently as you waited for an answer.

“Well, hello”, you heard from the phone, “I was just about to call you, I forgot to tell you that–”

“Mom”, you blurted out with a teary voice.

She went silent for a second. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah I just–“, you quickly wiped your tears – as if she could see them – and steadied your voice, “I just missed you a bit is all.”

“Oh honey, it hasn’t been even an hour from the last time we talked. Are you sure everything’s alright?”

“It hasn’t ?” you asked and instinctively turned your gaze to the clock on the wall. Twenty past one. “I mean, of course it hasn’t”, you said, still in confusion. “Hey, by the way, what day is it?”

“It’s Thursday”, she said.

“Yes, I know it’s Thursday”, you lied, “I meant the date.”

“Ah, 17th”, she said.

“Of August?”

“Of course.”

17th of August. That was the day you had done the mysterious time jump. Now that you thought about it, you had talked with your mother on the phone just before leaving. If you remembered correctly the clock had been half past twelve when you had left your apartment. Did this mean that you had returned from 18th century an hour after you had ended up there?

There was a pause on the phone. “Should I be worried about you?”

“No, no, no” you rushed to say. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ve just been using this new brand of painkillers for a flu so I’m temporarily a little out of it”, you said with a small laugh. “I’m not even sure I got the year right.”

You just sat on the floor for moment after you had ended the call with your mom. You were home. You almost couldn’t believe it, but you really were. For some time you had thought that you couldn’t return, but here you were. You looked up to the window. From your angle you could only see the blue sky, but you heard the faint sound of traffic. You really didn’t know how to react to it. Normally you hated the noise, but even in all of its annoyance the sound was part of your home, part of this century.

You got on your feet and glanced at a mirror. Your hair was a mess; shaggy and greasy. You had been wearing the same jeans and underwear for maybe two weeks already. ”Shower”, you breathed as you realized that to be a thing in 21st century. You walked through the apartment to the bathroom, took your jeans off and threw them into the laundry basket. You grabbed the hem of your shirt. Only then did you realize that you were still wearing the shirt Edward had loaned you. Your own was left behind at Jackdaw.

Slowly you lifted the shirt over your head and took it into your hands. Three hundred years. In this century he was dead, had been for a long time. Still maybe an hour ago you had been at his side and told him that you would meet him at the ship. A promise you couldn’t keep. You hadn’t even thanked him for his help. He must have thought that you had just taken off, just like he must have thought that you would do when he had repeated the meeting-at-the-ship part of the escape plan.

You didn’t know what to do with the shirt. You had been able to return, but would you go back to 18th century at some point? You still didn’t know how and why the whole time-travel thing had happened. Was this a one-time miracle? Or had you gained a superpower of time-travel? Whatever it was, it scared the hell out of you. You put the shirt into the laundry basket. Whatever you were going to do with it, there would be no harm washing it.

Edward leaned his hands against the railing of Jackdaw as he was staring at the docks of Havana. Two days had passed since the infiltration of the mansion that Templar had been hiding in, and they were going to leave Havanna.

After the lass hadn’t showed up at the docks and he had figured out that the guards hadn’t caught her either he tried to locate the Templar, but apparently she had left Havana right after their escape from the mansion. He had thought that she had taken the lass and left, but the guard he had made talk said that they hadn’t found her. The Templar had left empty handed.

The following day Edward spent by going throuh Havana, trying to find the lass. No luck. The next morning he was convinced that she wasn’t there anymore. The way that Templar woman had talked about that little box that belonged to the lass left no doubt that she would go after her. But the lass had just taken off without a word even though he had told her to meet him at the ship. Was it really his problem if the Templar was chasing her?

That Templar’s your target, of course it’s your problem, he thought and sighed. He then turned around and walked at the helm. ”Adé”, he said to his quartermaster who was standing next to him. ”We’re leaving.”

After a long and absent-minded shower that ended with warm water running out you wrapped yourself to a towel and fetched your phone. You walked to your living room and dropped down to the couch. You began scrolling through news sites and your social media, looking for anything strange. Anything that would have changed. It was challenging since you didn’t know what to look for. Everything seemed normal.

Maybe you could stop worrying that you had caused some horrible twist in history. Still, something must have changed. Maybe not anything world changing or anything touching you, but still something.

You dropped the phone on the couch. Then grabbed it back and unlocked the screen. You went to Google and typed ’edward kenway’ to the search bar. Nothing but Facebook and Twitter profiles of some people with a bit similar names. Guess not every pirate captain ends up in the history books.

You stood up. With your arms crossed you walked through the living room next to the window and looked out. Even the scenery was like it had always been; other apartment buildings on the other side of the parking lot, and behind them in the distance the tall buildings of Canary Wharf.

Your stomach growled, which reminded you that you hadn’t eaten, well, in 300 years.

First it was weird to just continue where you had left off. You had been two weeks in a different century, but you hadn’t missed anything in your own. Perks of time travel, you thought. Your friends wondered at your behavior when you practically smothered them with hugs when you first time saw them after your little adventure. You just laughed it off with a shitty excuse. You couldn’t have been more relieved when you saw them being okay.

You soon found yourself living your everyday life. You had a part-time job in a department store, and working was a good way to ground you back to your routines. You met with your friends and called your parents from time to time. You did groceries, cleaned your apartment, sometimes you just turned on the tv and watched some Netflix. You didn’t talk anyone about your little trip. It was crazy. No one would believe you.

Sometimes you caught yourself deep in your thoughts, thinking about the time on board of Jackdaw.

A/N: Finally I can say this again: a new chapter is here! I still have to struggle with a tablet since I still don’t have a new charger for my laptop, but hey, at least I don’t have to stop writing completely. Also, as a side note, if you have any questions or constructive criticism regarding this series, or just want to talk about it, your messages are welcome to my inbox. I’d really like to know what you think about the series now that it has progressed.

#through time to you #my writing #assassin's creed black flag #assassin's creed fanfiction #edward kenway x reader

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straight-outta-the-asylum · 8 years ago

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Life Long (Dean Ambrose x Reader)

Oh boy, back on the scene! it’s been a rough couple of days, tbh, and I’m more than happy to put this out there and get back into writing. I hope to be able to have some sort of prompt thing or some sort of celebration for Valentine’s Day once I finish the one last request in my inbox. *throws computer away for corrupting baically every fucking thing on it*

This is actually sort of an amalgam of prompt requests; one lovely anon requested numbers 9, 22, 35 from (you guessed it) this list. Another anon requested a similar prompt not from the list, so I tried to incorporate it into this one. Although List Anon did request smut, which I’m very sad to say I couldn’t pull through with. Idk if it was my mind frame from the past few days or what, but all attempts at smut were extremely awkward or sickening. I tried to make up the lack of it with the addtion of extreme fluff and romance, but I’m sincerly apologizing, Anon. Please enjoy!

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“Dean?” You called out as you trudged through the house you both shared, trying to stifle a yawn. The house was quiet, almost too quiet. It wouldn’t be overly dramatic to say it was suspicious, because when Dean was home there was rarely a dull moment in the house. Whether he was basically reenacting a Tom and Jerry skit with a fly in the house or watching old shows-he knew the ending to and still yelled at them what to do-you could be certain Dean Ambrose had his hands in there somewhere.

“You home?” The only response was silence, and you shrugged before making your way to the kitchen for a snack. What you found waiting in return was a sight that made your slight disappointment ebb away and be replaced by equal parts confusion and joy.

You usually made dinner, it was almost an unspoken rule. You liked to do it when he came home from tours, although part of it was because you didn’t trust him with anything that wasn’t a microwave. So to step into a kitchen with actual warm food that smelled decent and didn’t look half-bad either, you knew something was up. Thudding from upstairs followed by stomping down the stairs revealed the perpetrator, and you turned to find Dean sliding on his socks into the kitchen. He wore a black blazer and a black tee shirt, tucking it into his jeans. He had a somewhat panicked look on as well that he hid for the most part. “Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

“Hello to you too, Dean.” You hid a smirk and gave him a quick kiss. “What were you doing upstairs? Getting all fancy?” You gestured to his semi-formal attire.

“Sorta. Wanted to surprise ya.” He ran a hand back through his hair, though it did him almost no good if he was trying to slick it back. If anything it made his already messy hair more poofy. “Thought it’d be nice for once if we got a nice night together.” A flash of concern sparked in his eyes quickly. “Is that alright?”

“It’s more than enough, Dean, thank you.” Something about him seemed off, more than usual, so you gave him a reassuring smile and another, deeper kiss. “Let’s eat, I’m starving.”

He gave a returning smile. “Same. Who knew cooking was such hard work?”

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It wasn’t the worst meal you had ever had. That would’ve been the chili dogs you and a friend had eaten in high school that gave more than a little bit of indigestion. Dean tried his best, for sure, and the thought of that was incredibly endearing, considering his track record of romantic attempts. The pasta was maybe a little undercooked, and the chicken a little overcooked, but that he had tried so hard to make it memorable melted you more than a little bit.

“What do you think our chances of getting food poisoning are from this?” Dean gave a little joke, watching you eat.

“No, babe, it’s really good.” You tried to lie a little bit for his sake, but must have seen through it. He knew how to read you.

“Nah, it’s alright, we both know I shouldn’t be anywhere near a stove again, probably.” He kept his words and tone light as he scratched his head and looked at you. You were occupied with the taste of charred chicken in you mouth, but upon making eye contact his attention focused on his lap, hands hiding under the table. Fearing you had hurt him, you reached to him and squeezed his bicep in comfort. “Thank you, Dean, really. It was so sweet after the day I had.”

“Yeah, I knew you had been workin’ hard so I thought I’d do something nice for ya.” He cleared his throat and finally looked in your eyes, something unfamiliar to you in them. “I actually got ya somethin’.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to, Dean.”

“I sorta wanted to though. I thought you could get something outta it. Maybe you could wear it to a party or a wedding.” The way he said the last word caught your attention.

“A wedding?”

“Hopefully ours.”

You stared in shock, keeping your eyes on him as he took a breath, got up slowly and made his way over to kneel at your side.

“Look, I gotta say…um…you make me…shit, sorry. I had this all planned.” He took another breath. The only time you saw him get worked up like this was when he was going into a match, and you couldn’t even reply as you watched him.

“You’ve been with me for practically forever; through my problems, and my…past, and you’ve never steered me wrong, not once. But, I wanna be there for your challenges and problems, and take care of you the way you took care of me. I love you and I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. So, with that said,” he fumbled in his pocket for a bit before pulling out a beautiful ring.

You gasped and your hands flew to your mouth in shock, disbelief and joy and love flowing through your body.

“Y/N L/N, will you make me the happiest and most grateful guy in the world and marry me?”

He looked almost afraid but there were tears in your eyes as you nodded rapidly, grinning from ear to ear. “Yes, yes, yes! I’d be honored.” You held your hand out shakily and he held back the tremor in his own hands as he slipped it on.

“Thank you.” Dean whispered before he surged forward, capturing your lips in a grateful, loving kiss. His hands cupped your face and yours returned the gesture. It was a passionate, electric, joyous kiss, but it was slow, unhurried, not rushed in the slightest. Tears streamed down and they mingled with the kiss, making it a bit salty. You both broke away and started giggling for no reason at the tears. You had a few and tried to wipe them away to no avail as they poured.

“You look like Niagara Falls.” Dean smiled and his thumb brushed away a few tears, but his face had suspicious track marks running down it, eyes shining.

“Shut up.” You smiled and held his hands, both of you grinning like idiots and staring at each other. “How about we go celebrate our first night engaged?”

“No need to ask.” He swept you up into another kiss and into his arms.

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The aftermath of sex was always filled with cuddles-though Dean would deny such a word-and soft kisses that made you melt if you both hadn’t fallen asleep after. Tonight was no exception, but there was a certain exuberance that went along with the afterglow.

“It really is beautiful, Dean.” You murmured, curled in his arms.

“The ring? Good. I’m glad you like it. I had no clue what kind of ring you would like. Who knew there were so many different types in one store?”

At the tone in his voice and the picture his words brought, you giggled. You imagined Dean in the middle of a high class jewelry store, looking confused as hell and probably homeless. “I would’ve been happy with any kind of ring, to be honest.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, it could’ve been a Ring-Pop and I would’ve said yes.” You smiled up at him and saw his face had the same expression from earlier; a little anxious and confused. “What’s the matter?”

“I dunno. I just guess I wasn’t expecting you to be on board with this, much less say yes.”

“Dean, that’s ridiculous. Why wouldn’t I say yes?” You grabbed his hand and stroked the knuckles, a small gesture that seemed to calm him down a bit. He didn’t need to answer because you could see it in his face.

It was no secret to those close to him that Dean wasn’t the most sure person on the planet about himself. His past, his scars-mentally and physically-, his abandonment issues, they always made him feel like he was less than he was. He had confided in you your first night together, wanting you to totally understand who and what he was. It hadn’t mattered then, or any other time, and you let him know that often.

“When you love someone you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes and call you crazy. Even then. Especially then.” His eyes lit up in that way they always did when you said love.

“I love you too, Y/N. So much. I couldn’t even tell you how much.” His lips went down and captured in another emotional kiss.

That was how the rest of the night went; alternating between tender sex, making out, and an active avoidance of the dishes in the kitchen. The only time you ever saw another ring as beautiful as the one that night was one seven months later, standing at the altar and watching another get slipped on your finger.

“Last chance to back out, Mrs. Ambrose.” You stifled a grin at the whisper.

“Nope. You’re stuck with me, Mr. Ambrose. I’m in this for life.”

“Lucky me.” And you knew he meant it in the best way possible.

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The second request I found ridiculously endearing: “Dean tries to set up a special night with the reader for something important. Empahasis on tries.” I had to put it in somehow.

I seem to have a serious penchant for fluffy hurt/comfort fics. Must look into this further.

I hope you enjoyed! Please leave comments, feedback, anything! I’d be more than happy to hear it! Requests are open, so feel free to leave something. Thank you for reading! *Bayley hugs*

#dean ambrose #dean ambrose x reader #dean ambrose imagine

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