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risuola · 5 months

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▶ ONE BEDROOM? — short memory about how you found yourself sharing a bed with two of your best friends.

contents: college+roommates!au, fluffy, silly Satoru, caring Suguru and all that jazz — wc. 916

a/n: feel free to send me suggestions for entries of this series! any specific situations you think might be funny? any topics that sound interesting to you? let me know!

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“Alright, I found one,” Satoru informed, a grin of mischief tugging on his lips and both you and Suguru knew immediately that there are some gears turning below the mop of white hair of your best friend. “Near our uni, rent’s cheaper than any other we looked at, it looks nice, and there’s even a balcony for the addict. Available anytime.”

It sounded too good to be true, really. You’ve been looking for weeks now, desperate to find the right balance between the price and quality and it turned out to be the hardest thing you had to face in your lives. It was honestly a nightmare, turned out that you were way too late to find a rental with three rooms in the college area – everything was already taken and you were forced to scratch the idea of all having separate rooms. Two bedrooms, turned out, were just as hard to find. You were slowly coming to terms that you’re gonna have to either spend three hours in metro every day just to get in and out of uni or pay an unreasonable amount of money just to live even moderately close. In your head, you already saw yourself searching for the second job.

“Where’s the catch?” Suguru’s raised an eyebrow, his mind analytic as always and his questioning tone matched your thoughts perfectly. He wrapped one arm around your waist and reached with the other to snatch a phone out of Gojo’s hands, but the snow-whites grin grew even wider as he dodged the attempt. You could feel your friend taking a deeper breath behind your back, you were seated next to him, resting against his body whilst Satoru was on the floor, with his head comfortably on your thigh. “Is it one of those ‘rent a room along with ten other students’ kind of deal?”

“Nah, it’s a separate apartment. It’s not big, by any means, but as far as I’m concerned, it should be more than enough for us,” you reached your hand, but instead of giving you his phone, Gojo put his chin on your palm, smiling with the typical amount of cat-like mischief. “In fact,” he said, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth with a loud pop and threatening to lick you. The trail of sticky sugar covering his lips in a reddish tint from the cherry, his favorite, flavored candy. “I already sent a message to the renter.”

“Toru, spill it,” you pushed, pinching his cheek and with a theatrical roll of his pretty blue eyes, he put his phone into your hand, sticking the candy back into his mouth. You leaned back against Suguru’s chest again and with his head on your shoulder, you swiped through the pictures of the offer. “It… does look nice?”

“Sus,” the brunette mumbled, reaching to swipe over the screen with his own finger. “Very sus. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it,” Satoru said in fake offense and got up to his knees to peek on what you two were doing, sticking his nose in front of the screen so aggressively that you had to push him away. “But—”

“Wait, is there one bedroom in this apartment?” You noticed. The pictures you were analyzing all showed the same room and the living area with joined kitchen, the bathroom, and again the same room, and some weird kind of storage? and again the same room.

“That explains a lot,” Suguru laughed lightly and leaned back again.

“We can see the place in an hour” Satoru showed off his pearly whites. “Come on, let’s at least see it, yeah?”

“I guess we can see it,” you gave it a nod. “The price is really nice.”

“Alright… so let’s get going.”

And so, all of you hopped on the bikes, you behind Satoru, and took the ride to see the apartment. Turned out, it really was perfect. Despite the apartment having just one bedroom, it was spacious enough to fit all three of you. The bed was so big it could easily fit five and during the many years of friendship, you and two of your friends shared way too many single person mattresses, sandwiched and squished together to think twice about it. The odd storage room seemed to be a perfect candidate to become a guest room (later called: a fuck room).

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Satoru grinned, looking at both of you as he was bouncing his ass on the bed, testing it as if he was already the owner.

“It is nice, I’ll admit,” you said, looking at Suguru to hear his opinion, but the man seemed to be thinking still. “Sug?”

“For me, it’s perfect. But,” he looked at you, a concern clearly written in his eyes, “is it alright with you?”

Geto has a way of constantly reminding you why you love him. He doesn’t look like it, in fact, he looks quite intimidating to anyone who doesn’t know him, but to you he’s just the sweetest, most caring friend you could ever wish for. If anyone was to worry about your comfort, it was him because it is true that all three of you slept together already, sharing sheets and being as close and personal as it was possible, but a random sleepover doesn’t equal sleeping with them every single day.

“It’s fine with me, don’t worry,” you reassured him, squeezing his bicep playfully.

“If it’s fine with you, then I guess we have a place.”

taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams

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pickingupmymercedes · 3 months

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hello! can i request “you told me you’d be careful!” with lewis? it reminded me of the story he told on hot ones about almost drowning when he went surfing once 🫠🫣 but you can make it about anything of course ❤️❤️

Honestly, his adventures are equally as exciting as they're terrifying. But then again, skydiving does sound fun to me, so maybe I'm not the best at judging him

Anyway, hope you like this, I got a bit carried away❤️❤️

"You told me you'd be careful!"

The sun started to dip on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Y/N stretched languidly on the balcony of the rental house, the crashing of waves a soothing soundtrack.

She'd spent the afternoon catching up on work emails, a necessary evil that had stay back at the house while Lewis and his friends had, yet another, surfing day.

Laughter drifted up from the beach, Lewis's voice in the mix, warm and animated. She couldn't help but smile, even after all this time, laugh was still just as infectious.

A few moments later Lewis came to greet her, his loose hair wild and a grin plastered across his face. He was a vision of sun-kissed skin and tousled hair, the picture of carefree happiness. His movements light and carefree.

"There you are!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around her in a bear hug. "You missed all the fun!"

Y/N laughed, returning his embrace. "Glad you had fun. You guys must be starving."

He nuzzled his face against her neck, his touch lingering a little too long. "Yeah, absolutely ravenous. But I think we can wait a bit"

Something felt…off. Lewis had always been affectionate, but not the possessive kind, and specially not the kind to cling to her like he was doing.

"Alright, lovebirds," a voice called out from behind them. "Don't monopolize the balcony all night."

Daniel, stood by the door, a mocking grin on his face and Lewis chuckled, finally releasing her.

"Just catching up, mate," he said, slinging an arm around Y/N's shoulders. "Come on, love, let's go grab some dinner."

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, good food, and stories under the starlit sky of the restaurant. But even amidst the haze of holidays, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Lewis's touch remained unusually persistent, his gaze lingering on her a little too long. Almost…cloying.

The guys that had joined the surfing trip also kept dodging questions on their day, always a nonchalant “it was fun” regardless of who asked.

When they finally retired for the night, the weight of it all was dauting. Lewis, already half-asleep, nuzzled closer to her. He was clinging to her skin at that point.

"Lew" she said softly, her voice laced with concern. "Is everything alright?"

He mumbled a drowsy reply, but Y/N persisted. "No, really. Something feels off."

He blinked, seemingly surprised by her comment. "Off? How so?"

"You're being… clingy," she said gently, trying to unravel the knot of unease twisting in her stomach.

Lewis's playful demeanor evaporated. He stared at her for a long moment, then nuzzled his face against her neck. This wasn't the relationship they had built – they could trust each other to talk about things, problems and their fear, but he seemed set on hiding whatever was going on in his head.

Pushing him away slightly, Y/N held his gaze. "Lewis, seriously, what's going on"

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flitting away briefly before meeting hers again. "I hm…" he mumbled, but his voice lacked conviction.

"Lewis," she said, her voice firm but laced with concern. "Look at me. Tell me the truth."

He sighed, the goofy smile finally fading. "Alright," he admitted, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper. " I had a bad wipeout … a bigger wave than I anticipated."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Bigger wave? Lewis, you promised you wouldn’t do anything stupid…" she trailed off, unable to voice the terrifying question hanging in the air.

Lewis met her gaze, a flicker of fear still lingering in his eyes. "I got caught in the undertow. Took a mouthful of water… thought…"

He didn't need to finish the sentence. The raw vulnerability in his voice, so uncharacteristic of the usually fearless man she knew, spoke volumes.

"You told me you'd be careful!" she exclaimed; her voice sharp.

He flinched at her outburst, a wave of regret washing over his face. "I know, I know. I messed up. I should have listened to the guys that knew the area. I…"

He trailed off; his words replaced by a heavy silence. Shame hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Y/N knew anger wasn't the answer, not at that point. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down.

"Come here," she said, her voice softer now. She pulled him wrapping her arms around him, his body melting into her embrace.

"I'm just glad you're here." she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

He held her tighter, burying his face in her shoulder. "Me too, Y/N. More than you know."

Y/N kissed his forehead gently. "Just promise me you'll be honest with me."

He pulled back, gazing into her eyes, his expression a mixture of gratitude and love. "Always," he vowed.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf @priopp123 @jajouska

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#Ella500 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lh #lh44 #lewis #lewis x reader #lewis imagine #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 imagine #lewis hamilton x you

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seat-safety-switch · 5 months

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The Property Brothers are on the radio telling me it's too dangerous to do my own electrical, roofing, or structure. I'm done listening to those boys, these children. I'm going to drive this fucking 1996 Dodge Dakota right through my living room.

Home renovation used to be a thing that was only accomplished by your drunkest uncle, at the absolute peak of his powers. Folks would move into a house and they'd just be fine with things. New wallpaper, new paint, maybe re-do the bathroom when one of the kids leaves the tap on over the weekend. You'd have the occasional eager beaver who would really go nuts and put a shonky extension on the place, but in general houses stayed the way they were.

Then, reality TV started. It turns out one of the things all people want to do – all people – is to knock down a wall and really "open up" a living area. Throw a sledgehammer into that tile you hate in the kitchen. Rip out the bathtub and put in a soaker. Make the neighbours watch as you slowly fill up an orange rental dumpster over the course of two years with the former interior of your home. Slap in some new stuff, and repeat in ten years.

This just happened to coincide with wage deflation, and a massive increase in the popularity of financing your home reno. It's cool, just put it on the charge card. You're worth the $2500 countertops that don't match your appliances. You can throw those in the trash, too. Really rock and roll. Dream home, baby.

Now, I'm not one of those prudes who says to never do things yourself. In fact, I am doing something right now. I am picking some surprisingly sharp chunks of a once-perfectly-good Chesterfield out of the air-conditioning condenser of my Dakota. It is essential, however, that you understand my renovation was started from a place of rage, and not any kind of misplaced urge to "keep up with the Joneses." The Joneses are probably who did this to me in the first place. And now I've got lots more covered parking for motor vehicles.

Probably improve the property value too, come to think of it. I really opened up the space.

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mama2bears · 23 days

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No Christmas Vacation - Part 1

Pairings: Tyler Owens/Reader

Summary: You and Tyler are dating. He takes you for a romantic get away for Christmas, but will the weather interfere with your plans?

Warnings: None yet.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Tyler kisses your neck softly.

“Do we have to get up now?” you muttered rolling over to face him.

“Yeah, remember, today is the day that I am taking you on our Christmas vacation.”

With that, you smiled, sitting up in bed. Tyler had told you a few weeks ago that he wanted to take you away for Christmas. Ever since then, you had tried to get him to tell you where, but he wouldn't budge. He only told you to pack for cold. It didn't matter where you went, you were looking forward to the trip. You were looking forward to getting away for a few days.

“I made you breakfast in bed before we get started.” he said, reaching over to the nightstand and handing you a tray with pancakes, sausage, and coffee.

“That smells amazing, Ty.” You award him with a tender kiss. You met Tyler three years ago when you moved to Arkansas to follow a career in meteorology and storm chasing. Your first thought was that Tyler Owens was a cocky, reckless redneck who only wanted to be a YouTube star. It didn't take you long though to see the tender side of this cowboy tornado wrangler. He was the guy running into debris to find dogs, playing ball with a child in mist of total destruction. Tyler was both tough and tender.

“So, are you going to tell me where we are going yet?”

“Nope.” he grinned.

“How will I know if we have everything packed we need? What if it's warm? Is it going to snow? We aren't going to be chasing tornadoes, are we?” you groaned. It was two days before Christmas and while it wasn't exactly common to have tornadoes in the winter, it certainly wasn't impossible. You loved storm chasing as much as Tyler did, but not on Christmas.

“Well, we didn't pack for every season, but I think cold weather clothes will be all we need. I don't plan on any tornadoes either.”

“Well, at least you can tell me if we are driving or flying.” you said between bites of your pancake.

“Flying.” Tyler answered “...in a plane.” he added.

“No? Really? And here I thought you were superman.” you grinned.

“Maybe I am.” he winked at you.

After breakfast was over, Tyler took your tray, “I'll get our suitcases in the truck and load the dishwasher.” he offered, giving you time to take a shower and get dressed.

* * * * *

“You know, I am going to kinda miss our Christmas tree and decorations.” you say, making one more check on the door to make sure it locked and alarm set before walking to the truck. Tyler opens the door for you, “Does the hotel have a Christmas tree?” you ask getting in.

“Something like that.” he grinned.

It only took you about half an hour to get to the airport, but with the holiday crowd all traveling it took hours to get though security. Finally you make it though the airport check point and are loading the plane. Tyler still hasn't told you where you were going, but you knew you would find out soon enough.

“Welcome aboard.” a flight attendant was saying. You listened to the normal safety measures to take and then finally, “We'll be arriving in Oneida Wisconsin in about two hours. We expect fair weather.”

“Oneida Wisconsin?” you question. “What's there?”

“Well...” Tyler said sitting back in his seat, “Oneida is just the closest airport to fly into. I'll have a rental car waiting for us and then we're driving up to White Lake. We have a little secluded cabin on the lake for the next week.”

“Ty..that sounds amazing!” you squeeze his hand a little tighter as the plane takes off.

“Still nervous about flying?” he asked.

“30,000 feet is a long way to fall if something goes wrong.” you mutter.

A few hours later the plane landed safely and Tyler had collected the suitcases from the luggage claim area and was now loading it in the rental car, which wasn't a car, but a Dodge Ram truck. He always had to have a Dodge, even on vacation.

You were flipping though the radio station when you stopped on a weather report, “and we are expecting a White Christmas this year. White Lake is expected to get up to five inches of snow.”

“Did you know about this?” you asked.

Right now the day was sunny and warm...well, at least 75 and humid was warm for Wisconsin in middle of December.

“Not until yesterday, I didn't. They just started calling for snow.” he smiled, “But the cabin is going to be stock with everything we need. It even has a hot tub and fireplace.”Do you wanna build a snow man? Come on let's go and play...” Tyler started singing, making you laugh.

“This is going to be the perfect weekend.” you smile, staring out the window as the houses gave way to tall forest.

“Yes...yes it is.” Tyler smile, patting the small box that was in his jacket pocket.

“We're here.” he said turning down a small dirt road which ran for a few miles though the woods. Finally, a small wooden cabin perched on a lake came into view. A dock went out from the front yard and a small boat was tied to the dock.

As Tyler parked, you could see the cabin's porch had garland and Christmas lights wrapped around it, there was also Christmas lights running down the dock and a wreath was hung on the door and every window.

Tyler carried the bags to the cabin and entered the code that was given to him for the lock, opening the door.

“It's beautiful Ty,” you pull him into a hug. It was a one story one bedroom cabin. The living room had a brown leather sofa facing a fire place with a big screen TV hung above it. In the corner was a tall tree all decorated, completed with a star on top. The fresh smell of pine filled the room.

“Merry Christmas Darling,” Tyler kissed you softly, then picked up the bags, heading towards the bedroom, then stops in the door way, “Hey, Darling...come here.” he smiles, dropping the bags on the floor and pulls you into a long, slow, deep kiss.

“What did I do to deserve that?” you asked, eyes dancing with excitement.

He kisses you again and points up, to the mistletoe hang above the doorway. “Rules are rules...gotta kiss every time we pass though the door.”

“So, cowboy, what do you have planned for us first?” you grin.

“Well..since today is so warm, I thought maybe we could take the boat out?” he offered and paused, looking towards the bed, “unless you had something else in mind.”

“Oh..tempting, very tempting.” you kissed him, and lead him back towards the living room, “However, I think I'll choose take the boat out, but when we come back.” she winked, “Well, let's just see what happens.”

Tyler went into the kitchen to find that the cabin owner had stalked it well, as agreed, including a chilled bottle of wine. He fixed some sandwiches and grabbed the wine and a couple of glasses, checking his pocket again to make sure the little box was still there. He put the food and wine in a wicker basket, grabbed a blanket off of the sofa, “Ready” he asked, almost unable to contain his excitement.

You laugh at him, following him out the door, “What is so exciting about a boat ride?” you ask. The way he was acting you would have thought that he was chasing a F5 tornado.

“Come on, you'll see!” he was practically skipping down the dock and you couldn't help but laugh. One thing about Tyler Owens was that he had a way of making your heart soar. When you were with him, you were carefree. He had a way of showing you joy in every moment.

#twisters fanfic #tyler owens fic #tyler owens x reader #twisters fanfiction #twisters fic #twisters x reader #tyler owens x you

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ccbb2222 · 1 year

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I Can Fix That — Bradley Bradshaw x Reader One Shot

It's been awhile...hasn't it? Summary: Bradley has a new neighbor, and he's more than willing to come to her rescue on more than one occasion.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff Also....yes the title is a reference to Holes :)

The first time Bradley Bradshaw comes to your rescue is on moving day.

The heat was unforgiving, your UHaul was filled to the brim, and you were beginning to doubt that you could handle moving all on your own. With an aching back and a scowl, you begin to pull on the side of the loveseat that you had somehow managed to lug into the UHaul just hours before. Panic struck your eyes as you realized it was about to topple over directly on top of you. "Woah, woah, woah," You hear a gruff voice say as a muscular arm makes its way into you peripheral vision. The love seat levels out, and you turn your head to thank your hero.

Deep, honey colored brown eyes, soft and warm distract you for a moment. "Thank you," You say, voice soft, as you realize just how close the handsome stranger is standing to you.

A deep chuckle makes its way out of his mouth as he smiles, "No worries. No one should die by the hands of a sofa." Over the course of the next hour, Bradley, as you've come to learn his name, helps you unpack your UHaul. You try not to get distracted by his gentle coaching, "Just a bit to the left, you got it. Nice, just a bit further." Your mind wanders to thoughts of Bradley wrapped in your sheets, instructing you this way and that. Your cheeks warm, and you're grateful of the excuse of manual labor as the cause.

Sweat drips from both of your bodies in the San Diego heat as you stand back with your hands on your hips. Bradley expertly pulls the sliding door down on the back of the rental truck, and you admire his back muscles as they ripple against the his shirt.

"I cannot thank you enough," You say, daring a glance at him. His biceps glisten under his black t-shirt, and you're momentarily entranced by him.

"Don't mention it," He says turning to face you with a ruffled brow, "This is a lot for one person to handle. Why didn't anyone offer to help you?"

Your smile falls slightly as you remember the cause for your move. Your break up. It was unexpected, to say the least. You walked in on your boyfriend of four years with his "work friend," tangled in the sheets of your four post bed. The bed you had picked out together at a flea market, and the one you left behind despite your love for the aesthetic. It was ruined now.

"Let's just say I was in a rush to move," You supply vaguely, and Bradley nods his head, unbothered.

"Well, if you need anything, just come find me, I'm in 24B."

"Thank you Bradley," you say, and he smiles softly, raising his hand for a wave, and heading back into the building.

_____ The second time Bradley comes to your rescue is after you forget your keys to the main apartment building. Why had you decided to take your trash out in a torrential downpour? You scowl, picturing vividly your keys hanging on the key rack. Inside your unit. Leaving you stranded and your clothes seeping through.

You try to buzz your neighbors, truly anyone, to let you in. But following a notice from the building warning against letting in non-residents, you weren't surprised when your buzzes went unanswered.

"Fuck," You say, trying to press your self to the side of the building, the small overhang not providing much relief from the wind and rain. Your white t-shirt was fully soaked through, and there was a 99% chance you resembled a drowned cat.

As if your luck couldn't get any worse, you see a familiar Bronco pull into the parking lot, and you shut your eyes in defeat. Of course your hot neighbor had to once again come to your rescue.

You knees nearly buckle as you see him, dressed in what looks like a flight suit making his way to you, a slight jog in his step as he dodges raindrops.

"Locked out?" He smiles, fishing quickly for his keys.

"Nope, just enjoying the storm," You say with a playful sarcasm.

He chuckles and unlocks the door, motioning for you to go in before him.

"Thank you," You turn to him while collecting your sopping wet hair over one shoulder and quickly making your way into the dry lobby. "Hey," You say, taking in his full appearance, "I didn't realize you were in the service. Guess that explains why you're so helpful all the time." Bradley smiles, "Yes ma'am," God, that sent a shock straight to your core, "Naval aviator at your service." Now that...made him even hotter.

"Very impressive," You nod your head approvingly, "Although, it's nothing compared to a work-from-home graphic designer. I've had life or death moments with Photoshop like you wouldn't believe." Were you...flirting? And was he...kinda into it? "Oh," he clutches at his chest, "the agony, I'm sure." The two of you walk towards the elevator and he once again motions for you to step in first.

"Are you also locked out of your apartment?" He asks, scratching at his neck, and you try not to get distracted by his bicep, "You're welcome to come hangout while you wait for a locksmith." "Luckily I left my door unlocked," You say before you can even catch the words coming out of your mouth.

He nods, and looks down.

Fuck. You had an in. You could've been in his space, with him and you blew it. "But thank you for the —" the elevator doors open quickly and you realize you're on your floor, "offer Bradley. I appreciate it!" He smiles with a nod, and you exit the elevator, turning to see his eyes once more and his lips quirk up in a smile as the doors close.

______

The third time Bradley Bradshaw comes to your rescue is when your oven is, quite literally, on fire. You intended on baking Bradley some thank you brownies (and okay, it was also a ploy to see him again), but it turned into a complete disaster. Somehow you didn't notice the crack at the bottom of your glass baking dish, and brownie batter dripped onto the bottom of the oven, causing smoke and eventually flames.

"Jesus Christ!" You let out an exasperated cry as your fire alarm starts buzzing, smoke starts to fill your apartment, and you throw open your door to find the nearest fire extinguisher.

You're stunned to see an equally surprised looking Bradley outside your door.

"What are you doing here?" You say, not impolitely, but given your frazzled state, you instantly feel paranoid about your outburst. "I was coming by to see if you happened to have any eggs to spare, but I can see you have bigger issues to deal with," He smirks at you and pushes past you to assess the damage. Smoke is quickly filling your small kitchen and you cough as you just point mutely to the source.

Bradley reaches up to disable the fire alarm, and turns the oven off before asking, "Do you have any baking soda?" You quickly throw open the fridge and hand it to him. He calmly opens the oven, dumps the baking soda on the flames, and you watch in awe as they begin to simmer.

"What — how? Baking soda?" You stammer, words failing you completely.

He chuckles, "My mom was a terrible cook. I learned how to put out an oven fire at a young age. Baking soda kills the oxygen, and the fire with it." You laugh nodding, "Well, that's good to know. Those were...supposed to be for you." You admit, pointing to the sad-looking, burned brownies.

"For me?" He smiles softly, and opens your apartment window to let out the smoke.

"Yeah well," You say, fanning out the smoke with a dish towel, "You came to my rescue more than once over the past few weeks, and now I guess I owe you more than brownies." You motion for him to join you in your smoke-free living room and he follows obediently. "How about dinner?" He says, a smile once again on his face as he leaned his beautiful body against the door way.

You blush instantly. Dinner? Your heart rate races as you return a shy smile. "Dinner sounds nice."

He lets out a chuckle, "For what it's worth, I'd put out weekly oven fires if it meant I could make you blush like that." "Stop it," You say, grabbing at your flaming cheeks. "Oh, did still need those eggs?" You turn to go back into the kitchen and recover from your embarrassment. Bradley grabs your arm softly and turns you to face him, "I never needed eggs. Just needed an excuse to visit my favorite neighbor." __________________________________________________

IM ALIVE.

Helpful neighbor Bradley just hits different.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw x reader

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seoworks-blog2 · 2 months

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brenayla · 3 months

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fin - AO3

The end is anticlimactic. As soon as the clock strikes 4:50pm, Doggett leaves politely with a one-armed hug and well wishes for the little one.

And then it’s just them. Scully and Mulder in their secretive underground den.

Scully sits at his desk and he perches in front of her.

Of all things, Mulder says: “You remember that time we got food poisoning from Wendy’s?”

God, does she ever. She complains, “Mulder, do we have to go there?”

They were barely two years in, somewhere in rural Missouri. It might have been the only time Mulder stopped driving before 7PM and to her absolute horror, the first motel he found to pull into was fumigating or doing construction or something. Whatever. They shared a bathroom for 24 hours and mutually concluded that they would never discuss it again.

“Not if I have any say in it,” Mulder says, “I haven’t been there since.”

“Seriously, Mulder," she warns with a good glare. "I'd rather hear about the praying mantis man. My gag reflex isn't what it used to be.”

“Doesn’t seem any different to me.”

“Mulder,” she scolds him around a barely contained laugh, as if the walls have ears.

Mulder dodges and shifts topics expertly. “I got you something,” he says, free hand scouring around in his pocket.

He produces a stress ball painted to look like a little baseball. “Happy anniversary, Scully.”

They have never celebrated an anniversary and even if they were to take up the practice, it would be somewhere in the crisp dew days of spring, not today.

“Our other anniversary,” Mulder explains, “I’m a little late.”

“Ah,” Scully says, taking the gift and turning it in her hand. He is several months late, actually.

Their first time was not what she expected but it was what she needed. In her more creative moments, she’d imagined that when the dam broke, he would tear buttons from her blouse and pull her panties aside, no frills maneuvering her into position. And that is Mulder, but it is not first time Mulder. First time Mulder wanted to kiss her forehead and take her in. Before, he asked, can I and after, he fell asleep grasping her thumb like a newborn.

It seems like you two have an intense relationship, Scully's therapist once told her, accurately. Leg shaking, concussed sprinting after them intense; pre-sunrise giggling on his couch intense.

“Thank you,” she tells him, slipping it into her bag on the floor.

“It’s my contribution to your labor pain management plan.”

“Yeah. Thanks for that.”

“We can add it the hospital bag checklist.”

“Sure, Mulder.”

Mulder waits under the hum of the AC. “You’re welcome.”

A smoke detector is still hanging by a wire from when she took it apart to discover a bug. Sharpened yellow pencils that appeared in the ceiling – again – without explanation. The chunky patterned blanket from his couch, slouched over the back of the computer chair, brought in when she was sick and cold.

Nobody down here but the FBI’s most unwanted.

“Mulder, there have been periods where I spent more time here than at home,” she confesses.

“Me too. Probably too many times, actually.”

“I met you down here.”

“Yeah. You did.”

“And I– …we –” Her voice cracks, an all too common occurrence recently. We fell in love down here.

Or maybe not – maybe it was the rental cars or the autopsy bays – but she can’t quite remember because the where and when was never all that important. Now that she’s leaving this place behind, it feels like it happened here.

“I know.”

Mulder could say: This place isn’t going anywhere, Scully or you can always come back to visit, but it would be a sore consolation and they both know it. This is the wheezing death rattle of Special Agents Mulder And Scully. It’s such a Mulder thought, she would never dare voice it. It wriggles into her temporal lobe anyways.

She is leaving behind the birthplace of them, the first space they ever shared. Early Them live down here, with their shoulder pads and patterns and loose-fitting suits, stealing shy glances at each other over his whirring slideshows. And Middle Them survived the fire, too; floppy haired and caught in crackling tension and sopping with grief and fear and love that they don’t yet know what to do about. Even flirty, curious Right Before them are down here, testing out new boundaries; lighter, dreamier, sweet and sticky them.

Fudge the dates a little and their baby could have been conceived down here, and in the moment, that's the story she tells herself. It's a nice one. Maybe the fetus is a little bigger than typical, or maybe she misremembered the dates of her last menstrual cycle. Maybe she’s carrying a child made from dusty file cabinets, tacked up printouts, scrawled handwriting, crumpled up sticky notes left beside the trash can filled with takeout containers, and them; all the Thems.

Scully amends her last comment. “Well, I’m not sure that it happened down here. But I realized it down here.”

Mulder takes her hand. “Tell me?”

“It’s nothing crazy.”

“Haven’t you heard? I’m good with nothing crazy these days.”

She smiles; damn, he’s got her. “Okay, well…it was a weekend. You had this dark blue jacket on. It was more casual than you’d typically wear.”

“I think I know the one. I can find it, if you ever need a reminder.”

She gives him a look and continues, unperturbed. “You were sitting here at your desk and I was over there working at the computer. You were eating Reese’s Pieces. Very loudly, I might add.”

“When are we gonna get to the flattering part?”

“Never, if you’re going to interrupt.” Scully gets her bearings again. “You were humming something, I’m not sure what but it was a short tune, over and over. And I looked over to tell you to quiet down so I could focus. You were leaning over your report – or whatever it was you were writing. You had a little cut here above your eyebrow. And I just…I just knew.”

He stares, disbelieving but still holding her hand. “That was it, Scully?” He asks. “I was being annoying and you looked over to tell me to knock it off, and that’s how you had this grand realization?”

She shrugs. “I think maybe it was the mundaneness of it.”

“You’re gonna have to elaborate on that one, Scully.”

“Well,” she tries, “how many times have we had very similar conversations? How many times have I probably been working at the computer and looked over to tell you something? Hundreds, maybe.”

“Maybe more.”

“Right. So, it was all of those…everyday things that made up our relationship, our partnership in the first place. It only makes sense that it would be one of those everyday things that...triggered something.”

Mulder takes that in.

“Huh,” he says, gently splaying out her fingers as he processes. “Did you ever tell me to knock off the noise?”

When she puts herself back in the moment, nothing breaches her memory but the all-consuming red sun dawn of the revelation that she knew she was not going to be able to ignore like she had with all the prior little stair step realizations.

“I don’t think so. I don’t think I said anything to you.”

“You might have saved us a lot of time if you had.”

“No, I don’t think so, Mulder. I don’t– maybe it’s all the hormones, but I don’t think we were ready then.”

Mulder takes a moment to digest that idea. He doesn’t necessarily agree, she can tell and it occurs to her to push it. But when he lapses into quietly dragging a fingertip across the lines in her palm, she decides against it.

A gush of self-consciousness rolls over her and she see it hit him like an aftershock. “Well,” she covers, “what about you?”

He presses his thumb against one of her nails, scanning his print into the keratin of her nailbed.

“When you came to my room in Bellefleur,” he says.

“You– …the first time?”

He smiles, covering. “Yeah.”

“No,” she insists, “Mulder.”

“Yes, Scully.”

In the moment of silence, Mulder fiddles with her fingers, their heads bowed over their joined hands. Then he kisses the middle of her palm like a stigmata and releases her, gauging her mood.

When he gets a reading, he stands and offers her a hand up. “You ready to go, Agent Scully?”

She takes it, shaking hands with this little death.

“I think I am, Agent Mulder.”

#my stuff #x files #the x files #msr #msr fanfic #fox mulder #dana scully #x files fanfic

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mehtallee · 15 days

Text

Hidden Incentives #1

The family of three entered their rented vacation house that sits conveniently near the beach. While the family is expecting a relaxing and memorable experience in this trip, none of them wouldve expected half naked man sitting in the balcony seemingly frozen in the spot.

Out of concern, the father immediately called the owner of the place about the 'specimen', in which is being poked playfully by their curious teenage son...

"What is this?!" The Father asked,

The owner was confused at first, but then they seem to already know the concern,

He replied, "oh Hello sir! I assume you were asking for the sudden water cuts at night? Rest assured that we...." he was cut off by the father,

"No! I was talking about this naked man in the porch!" The father roared, as he peeked into it.

"OH that, that comes with the house sir. I'm pretty sure it was disclosed in the rental papers before" The owner smirks, "do not worry sir, it might look real but that thing is a furniture... if you wish to, you can hide him on a closet somewhere for your convenience"

The father massaged his head in frustration, but gave in as it was his fault for not checking the rental details properly,

"Alright, thank you... but why is it so... realistic?" The father curiously asked, as he steps closer to the thing and pinched its very organic feeling skin-

"Thank you for renting out property! Enjoy your vacation!" The owner drops the call as if they're dodging the question.

To make it less weird, the father instructed his son to carry this 'guy' on the storage room to disregard this weirdness, and enjoy their family time together.

At evening however...

The teenage son secretly takes out the 'thing' to explore it more... for some strange reason, not only this so-called furniture extremely built as if it worked out for years, but its also fully packaged with real human private parts both front and back...

The young man got curious, "i dont know what this thing is, but i can tell im gonna have so much fun in this vacation♡"

#Hunk #Slave #Malemuscle #male muscle #gay hypnosis #gay drone #male tf

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afreakingdork · 2 years

Text

Crush Too Much - Part 22 - Finale

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Longing, Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

Synopsis: So you met a customer three times at work and that made a pretty big impression on you? That’s nothing to necessarily get worked up over, but when you’re all prepared to ask for his number the next time you see him and his brother gets involved instead, you might be in for something more than you bargained for.

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

So, saying you were rushed didn’t even begin to cover it. As your feet pummeled the pavement, you dodged twilight pedestrians on your way to the next subway station. This wasn’t exactly how you thought tonight would go, but when was the last time you’d been able to plan for anything when it came to Donatello Hamato. Barely grazing an middle aged woman with too many shopping bags, you skirted the sudden drop in concrete. Glaring down the hole, you watched as a grouched man around your age sized up your rushing figure with discontent.

“Don’t bother, this one’s down too!” He grumbled.

Your bady sank around your racing heart. “You’re kidding?”

A woman several steps below him, leaned into view. “The line’s down actually.”

“What?” The man spun around, pointing his malcontent at her.

She seemed unfazed. “I got a text from my girlfriend. Someone busted the tracks and they’re scrambling to reroute.”

All three of you harmonized a groan. It was one of the things you loved about New York. They departed and you frowned, leaning against the station’s entrance. Pulling out your phone, you brought open your text chain with Donnie. It had only been a single day since you’d confessed your feelings for one another and the walls of text were boiling over. You had to scroll back with several lengthy swipes just to get to the last message you had seen. It was something you sorely needed to bring up. For him, the love was fresh and ready to be outpoured. It wasn’t as if you weren’t excited to reciprocate, but you’d barely been given time to breath, let alone adjust to this new mindset. A little over 24 hours ago you were agonizing over cutting him out of your life entirely. Now you were his ‘darling’ and attempting to be on time for your first date. That is, if you could get there.

Already, Donnie had cancelled picking you up because of some sort of garage door malfunction. It wasn’t that big a deal, the subway should have been an easy alternative. Skimming the wall of text you had yet to read found a slew of apologies and promises to make it up to you. Giddy at his tooth-rottingly sweet assurances, you touched a hand to your chest. If your fluttering heart was any indications, these worries would soon be long forgotten, but until then you were sorely stuck in the adjustment phase. You were more than prepared to spin his excitement in your favor. It was all about framing. You knew him well enough that this was just like him; jumping headfirst and headlong into passion projects was Donnie at his finest. He just needed to be told directly and in person that that kind of dedication aimed at a person could be overwhelming. It was getting to him now that was the biggest problem.

A quick glance at your bank balance found a taxi ride would decimate your budget. Wanting to eat some time in the future and not wanting to keep a presumably overexcited Donnie waiting, you began to run once more. Thankful you hadn’t gone all out dressing up, you grappled with clogged sidewalks until you spied a rental bike. It’s location outside of a bodega said that it was probably still in use, but you snatched it up anyway. You threw a silent apology towards the business’ door as you heaved the thing up onto your shoulder. Running down a few more blocks, you located its kiosk and checked it back in so you could then reserve it yourself. With payment squared away, you hopped on the seat and took off.

Making relatively good time, you ditched the bike at approximately the closest dock to the garden and made up the rest of the distance on foot. Pressing two fingers to your throat, you attempted to will your heartbeat to even out. It came down with your breath and so began a rapid preening process to make yourself presentable once more. Sighing without a mirror, you squared your shoulders and approached the entrance. There were no signs of purple, but glowy neon emanated from the grounds. You found it hard to tear your eyes away from it as you fumbled for your phone. Its screen read you were 17 minutes late and your lips parted with a frustrated whine. Shuffling in place, you quickly threw up your text thread realizing you’d failed to mention the subway debacle. Sighing, you shook your head as you had to filter through about seven new messages. There was something about a phone call so you swiped your status bar to find three missed ones. Your head lolled back as you slammed one with your thumb and used it to ring your overzealous boyfriend.

“Dearest!” His voice waned with minor irritation. “There you are!”

“Donnie!” You mocked the tone back at him. “I forgot to message you!”

“Yes, I had to look up the track delays. You weren’t on board were you?”

“I doubt I’d get this good of reception if I was!” You didn’t mean to be snippy with him, but after your rush to get over here you weren’t particularly in the mood to deal with criticism. “Where are you? I’m here.” Spinning around, you still found no sign of him.

“You’re there…” He not only trailed off, but his voice dropped off as well.

“Where are you?” You pressed again, a sort of annoyed fear jolting in your veins.

“After locating the travel hindrance and taking into account your lack of response, I thought it would be best to go and pick you up...”

“Pick me-?” You began and stopped. “How far did you get?”

“Your apartment.” There was a sheepish quality to his voice.

You pulled your phone away and groaned loudly.

“It was a romantic gesture?” He offered; the tinny sound of rotors followed.

“I just…” You brought the device back and scooted over to a nearby wall to lean. “Ran so far…”

“That excited to see me?” He crooned as wind rushed around his voice.

“I didn’t want to be late.” You shook your head. “That didn’t really work out.”

There was a pause with only a gusty static coming through the line. “I suppose I am also at fault.”

“Maybe.” You teased as your annoyance began to recede. “I even stole a bike.”

“Dating a criminal!” Donnie huffed. “Say it isn’t so!”

“You got me.” Turning, you kept an eye to the sky. “It was one of those rental things. I did take it from someone who was still using it though.”

“I can’t help but feel you are still leaving parts of your story out.”

You chuckled at his knowing tone and regaled him in your journey. By the time you were both up to speed, you spotted his telltale purple lights. You watched as he descended and walked out of the landing as if he wasn’t the embodiment of mankind’s dream to fly. He strolled up to you and you caught his gloved hands on the way. Heat pooled in your finger tips on contact and you swept your gaze up to his face.

“Hi.”

“Greetings.” His voice was honeyed and you all but melted as it hit your ears. You were further liquefied as he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

Now this part you had no problem with.

“I apologize for the rocky start.”

You shook your head. “It happens. Did you figure out what was up with the garage?”

He turned toward the entrance and offered you his arm. You slotted your hand into his elbow and he lead you to garden with only a minor ticketing stop. “I didn’t have the time, though I suspect there’s a leak.”

“It is the sewers.” You mused, other couples cropping up as you walked a designated path.

“You wound me!” He bumped you as you walked and you leaned into the motion. “That is obviously one of the first precautions taken when setting up a good underground lair.”

“Silly me. It must be my public school education; I missed my lair making class.”

“That and how to file taxes. When will America learn?” He hummed as lights began to twinkle on the horizon.

You perked up and he quieted. Jaunty music filtered in as the glowing gardens came into view. Your eyes darted around excitedly. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

With only silence as a chaser, you turned to find him staring at you.

“Ravishing.” He seemed to find himself, but the molten look in his eye stayed.

You were caught, but the crowd dictated the necessity to keep moving. With Donnie’s hand atop yours to steady you, he dipped his head down. Your lids drifted shut in anticipation when a large explosion sounded across the garden. You snapped away from each other and looked at a loom of smoke pouring out of the conservatory.

“You’re kidding.” Donnie groaned. Underhand you felt his muscle's tense.

“Maybe… it’s just a heater malfunction?” You offered anxiously. “It’s like a hot house in there, right?”

“Well, yes, but I somehow doubt-”

A burst of flames shot out through a hole in the glass dome.

“It is-!” Donnie threw up an indignant finger at the structure. “-my date night! My night!!”

A high pitched evil cackling sounded from afar and both of you slumped in response.

“Maybe a different vigilante could handle it? After all these years you can’t be the only ones, right?” You pressed out, the question thin to your ears.

Screams of wayward civilians followed the maniacal laughter.

He gave you a saddened smile. “Regretfully, I am technically always on the clock.” Donnie sighed. “I seem to recall there was a mutant corpse plant here, but I thought he’d moved to a warmer climate years ago.” You slipped your arm free of his and his hand disappeared into his coat. When it remerged his staff telescoped to full height and purple pixels flickered off of it. You blinked at them wondering if it was a trick of the lights. You’d seen him form objects out of thin air with his ninpo, but nothing like this. “Stay back until I come to get you?”

You nodded dumbly and he took off. The first of the people fleeing from the building finally hit your walkway and you stumbled out of their way. The music cut off in favor of an announcement to take cover. You sighed and teetered off the path and onto the grass. Keeping your eyes to the conservatory, you watched as something round was shot straight through a pane and disappeared into the night sky. You tried to remember if something like that was in Donnie’s repertoire when a different voice seemed to crack through the frenzied crowd.

“It’s over here! Keep that camera rolling!”

Spinning around, you watched as a two man news crew fought against the throng of people. You recognized the field reporter instantly.

“April O’Neil!” You shouted out before you realized what you had done.

Zoning in on her name, April waded through the crowd. “Well, hey there-” She halted and spun around to glare at her camera man. “Dale, cut the dang feed!”

“But y-you just said to keep-”

“I know what I said!” April snapped at him, before turning a sugared smile to you. “Y/N, right?”

“You know who I am?” You wished you could reign in how star struck you were.

“Of course I do!” April slung an arm around your shoulders. “Who would I be if I didn’t run an extensive background check on my little brother’s boo?”

“What?” You swallowed hard.

“Buck up, I didn’t do so hot in geometry either!” She patted your cheek and slipped away, resuming her reporter aura. “What’s the scoop?”

You stared after her feeling tossed around. “The building sort of exploded. Donnie took off a few minutes ago to deal with it.”

“I see…” Excitement flooded her voice before she turned a gritted grin back to you. “Oh…” Her tone dropped heavily with dismay. “Y’alls first date…”

“Yeah…” You mimicked her grimace for a moment before a thought occurred to you. “Wait, you aren’t here to cover whatever's happening?”

“This mess?” She pointed as another round object smashed out of the dome and into the sky. “Nope! We’re here covering all this.” She swung her hand around to the lights. “I’ll just come right out and say it: I accepted the puff piece on the GLOW exhibit opening because I wanted to see how cute y’all were together.”

“I thought there was some deal to not interfere?” Though she was new to you, she exuded such a similar energy to her brothers that you couldn’t help but fold your arms in disappointment.

She remained unfazed. “That was for before y’all got together; statue of limitations.” She gave a punctuated wink.

You stared at her dryly. “I know you rigged the make-up fiasco.”

You watched a tiny crack form in her façade. “Now, now! There’s a fight we should be covering!” She grabbed your shoulders and spun you to face the dome.

“Wait-!”

“Don’t you wanna see Donnie in action!?” She shouted, already propelling you towards the building.

“He said-!”

“He’s a worrywart!” She chirped, speeding into a run and starting to lap your lagging form. “Dale! Camera!”

“Got it!” He shot back, obviously close behind.

“April-!” The conservatory was looming closer by the second.

“Don’t worry! You’re in good hands!” She tossed a wink over her shoulder as she dragged you straight into the building.

As soon as you breeched the dome, you indentified three separate voices and the distinct sounds of a fight. You weakly followed April and Dale as they tucked themselves into a corner.

“Now remember, we scrub turtle footage, but eat up bad guys!” April directed as she got into character.

“Motion blur and shakey cam as necessary!” Dale replied automatically, readying the camera.

Giving them some space, you took several steps to the side and realized there was a break in the greenery. Your little foliage frame was empty until it wasn't. In a split second, two orange forms in garish tights slid in with their backs to you. You got to watch with near front row seat as Donnie spun into frame. Your heart shot up into your throat as he spun his tech-bō around him with ease. During the skirmish he had sonehow lost his sweater, coat, and accessories. It left him in only his boots and winter pants. His muscles rippled as he whipped the staff around, purple pixels flitting off of it. Knowing you were ogling, your breath further left you as you caught the way his markings glowed a similar color. Awestruck, you leaned in closer.

“Come on, guys!” Donnie huffed, dropping his heroic stance to flop to an annoyed side. “I’ve basically won so can we just call this a night?”

“No way! We didn’t get our first course yet!” One of the orange figures stomped with frustration.

“And you haven’t seen our new regeneration skills!” The other form, flicked out an arm and you got sight of an enormous claw.

“Let it be known I tried reason.” Donnie shrugged and threw his staff out. The purple from him emanated a little brighter as energy swirled along the staff to form an outrageously large huge mallet. “Let’s see just how much you can regenerate!”

You felt like shrinking down. If anyone was to view this fight at this exact instant, they’d definitely peg Donnie as the villain. He reared back and the two mutants readied their claws. You tensed and all other sounds seemed to fall away as Donnie pivoted. The purple hammer came around, but a bright shine of blue light drew your eye away. A portal opened up just to the side of both parties. You watched as, within an instant, Mikey's shell rocketed out of it and collided with his brother who, in turn, was sent flying into the vegetation. Your jaw dropped as Mikey's limbs pipped out and he landed on his feet in a readied stance.

“Alright, whoever you are!!” Mikey shouted, facing the wrong direction. “We’re gonna wipe you out so fast, Donnie won’t even know what hit him.”

“I’ll know EXACTLY WHO HIT ME!!!” Donnie screeched from somewhere deep in the dome.

“Donnie? Wha-?” Mikey got out before one of the orange forms fired four claws straight into the younger brothers back which sent him flying as well.

Your shoulders dropped at the absurdity. You had watched what you now pegged for crab mutants fire off their hands like they were guns. It was almost as ridiculous as their circus outfits.

Raph and Leo stepped through the portal in near sync.

“For the record, I don’t think blindly throwing Mikey in was the best plan if we’re trying to keep on the DL.” Leo snapped as the portal closed behind him.

“He wouldn’t stop asking!” Raph sighed, catching a glimpse of the crab mutants. “You guys, seriously?!”

“What is with the reception tonight, geez!” One of the crab mutants rolled his shoulder.

“You happen to be interrupting something very important.” Leo turned and though his tone read amused, there was a burning rage in his eyes that you had yet to see from him.

“We gathered as much.” The other crab mutant raised his claw and fired off a few shots that the two brothers you could see dodged with ease.

“Just pack it up then!” Raph growled. The older brother spun around and instantly locked arms with one of the crab mutants.

The two grappled as Leo skittered a new line of shots from the unencumbered mutant. “Mikey, any day now! Let’s wrap this up!”

“Great covert work!” Donnie appeared out of a bush, dragging Mikey by his shell.

“I told you!” Leo turned on Raph who was still in a grapple.

“Hey, Don….” Raph nervously elongated the greeting. “We… were, uh, hoping to clear this up and not interrupt your date!”

“Next time try to be 11 minutes early.” The purple brother gripped, hoisting Mikey around and onto his feet.

“I feel like I’m getting unfairly blamed for everything!” Mikey pointed out, shrinking down as Donnie loomed from behind him.

“I was about to crush them!” Donnie shouted causing Mikey to hunker down more.

“Date, huh?” A hushed voice ask from your side.

You nearly jumped out of your coat. “W-wha-?!”

“This is a cute place for a first date, I get it.” The crab mutant folded his claws and gave a genial nod.

You rose a shakey hand to point at him, your skin growing paler by the second. His size dwarfed you to an intimidating degree.

“Where ya going after this? Dinner?” He looked at you with an excited gleam in his eye.

You gave a single fearful nod.

“You know I was craving Italian, but I had a bad time the last time I ate it, ya know?” He shook his head. “I ate a few things, but I feel like it was the calzone that did me in. You think I’ll be good if I get it again? Should I avoid calzones? Maybe it was just where we ate?”

“You’re not… going to hurt me?” You finally managed to string some words together.

“Huh?” He seemed utterly taken aback. “No way! We’re not interested in that! We came here to get a nice salad going, but Ben couldn’t stop thinking about this charred caesar he heard of and got us caught!”

“Salad?” You parroted, some color returning to your face. By all accounts, it really seemed like this guy wasn’t going to use you for leverage. You remembered your earlier comment about a heating malfunction and your shoulders drooped further at how ridiculous this all was.

“Duh, the salad is pinnacle to Italian because it offsets all the carbs!” He threw out his arms and gestured around the dome. “But places around town always have the worse lettuce. I’m sick of iceberg! And since it’s winter, the co-op doesn’t have any good alternatives!”

“You’re apart of a co-op?” Your fear was all but forgotten and all that was left was your incredulous husk.

“Uh doy.” He turned to you as if you were the ridiculous one. “The freshest foods and you only have to put in some time to get them? It’s a no brainer.”

“It’s good for the community too.” Leo used one of his blades to peel back the bush you were both standing in front of.

“See, even he gets it!” The crab mutant gestured to the blue hero.

“Hey, Carl.” Leo raised a hand and shifted his hips to one side.

“What do you think about calzones, Leo?” The being you now knew as Carl turned his attention away from you.

“Wouldn’t touch ‘em!” Leo stepped forward and up to you.

“Dang!” Carl probably would have snapped his finger if he had thumbs.

“I have no idea what’s going on.” You told the blue hero weakly.

“Yeah, this is not how we were hoping to preserve the evening…” Leo grimaced and looked over his shoulder. There seemed to be more infighting amongst the brothers than with Ben who only seemed to be stoking the flames. Turning back to you, he gave a lopsided grin. “When you give your big wedding speech about how integral I was to your union, you can leave this part out.”

Carl immediately perked up and started excitedly looking between you two.

“Wedding!?” You screeched, red exploding on your face.

“I thought this was a first date?!” Nearly prancing, Carl gushed.

“It would be, but…” Leo spun his sword around and gestured between the two crab mutants.

“Ooooh!” Carl winked as he seemed to grasp what Leo was getting it. “Ben! Let’s bounce!!”

The alert not only signaled his brother, but all the other brothers not party to what was happening. Donnie immediately spied you and nearly fell over.

“We getting calzones or what?!” Ben turned and started heading towards the conservatory door.

“Leo says no!” Carl called back, shuffling around you to head in the same direction.

“Are you just letting them go!?” Donnie hissed, stomping over.

“They wanted a salad…” You told him, nearly enfeebled.

“What?” Donnie’s head shook with confusion.

“Oh, April!” Leo sang out. He crossed between you and his brother, passing you a glance. He winked as eye contact was exchanged and mouthed what you were sure was a ‘leave now.’ The haunting phrase left you especially confused as he then skipped away.

“’How we spinning this one?’” April responded, knowingly. “I got a few ideas! Dale!! Playback!!!”

Over Donnie shoulder, you noticed as Mikey zeroed in on you. There was no malice there, but something about the look sent a chill down your spine.

“Let’s run.” You snatched Donnie’s hands to telegraph your urgency.

“Run?” Donnie began to turn his head to look.

“No!” You gave a small tug. “I already heard from April! They think the ‘no meddling’ agreement is over since we’re together now!”

You were thankful at how fast Donnie took in this information and processed it. “Tell me where and we’ll go.”

Already in motion, you pulled him as you pointed towards one of the holes in the dome.

“Hey, guys…” Raph called out a warning.

Donnie nodded and in a flash you were both airborne. You held on tightly as you rocketed straight through the opening.

“They’re getting away!” Mikey’s shout was the last thing you heard as the icy night air bit at your cheeks.

“We’re getting away, scoff.” Donnie’s voice grumbled from above you.

You shifted in his arms. “You think they’ll really let those guys get off that easy?”

“The Sando Brothers? They would if we had stuck around.” Donnie huffed, pulling you tighter. “Where is our next destination anyway, darling? Shall we go ahead with dinner?”

Your lip pursed at the nickname. Not only had you not been able to talk to him, but everything about the evening had been a sheer disaster. You shook your head and wondered where it had all gone wrong. It seemed to be so much larger than just a malfunctioning garage. You blinked, clarity washing over you as the cold had. You turned to look up at him and in turn he gave you a patient smile. You softened at it. “Lou, Mike, Tony, Tony's Pizza.”

The tender look disappeared from his face and was swapped with distaste. “Are you-?”

“It has to be there.” You doubled down on your look to make up for the lack of his.

It brought the faintest blush to his cheeks and he adjusted course. “If you’re sure.”

For the most part the flight over was quiet and the city sparkled below you amongst the darkened sky. When you landed, the street outside of Bro’s Pizza was nearly empty. You wobbled as you adjusted to dry land and Donnie looked at the darkened pizzeria’s door with a sneer.

“10:59pm.” He clicked his tongue as he checked his phone. “This place never closes on time!”

“It’s perfect.” You whispered tenderly.

The warmth oozing from your tone immediately caught Donnie’s attention and he turned to approach you. “I’m confused, dear.”

“Enough of that.” You shushed him and shucked off your coat. He watched with tempered curiosity as you slung the fabric around his shoulders. The fabric barely came around his arms.

“I don’t know if I can thank you for this.” He was near laughter.

“We need to start over.”

He froze and looked down at you, stunned. You stared back at him evenly and your hands left his person. Instinctively, he reached up and caught the coat to keep it from falling away.

“I…” He searched your face and you watched fear creep up his.

You wanted to brush it away, but you needed to make sure you had his full attention for this. Anything less and it wouldn’t stick in that overworking mind of his.

“I know tonight was less than ideal, but that doesn’t mean it has to set the tone for our relationship!” Fear gave way for desperation and you took a few steps back as he tried to reach out to you.

“Donnie, listen.” Folding your hands behind your back, you leaned forward to garner his attention. “Take a deep breath.”

He watched you with an anxious gaze, but his chest lifted as he followed the command.

“This is moving too fast. I know we’ve been at this for way too long, but the pet names, the date expectations, Leo joking about our wedding reception…” You trailed off and watched as a similar explosion of red painted Donnie’s cheeks as yours had.

His arms darted out in a set of rapid movements your eye couldn’t keep up with. “I swear to you that I've plotted no such thing at this time!”

“I didn’t think that, but good to know.” You beamed him a smile and it seemed to ease some of his nerves. “So, I think we should start fresh. Obviously we can’t erase all the time we’ve had together, but let’s rethink of our relationship as one just starting out!”

You watched as he churned your words over in his head.

“I’m calling a do-over.”

Realization dawned on him as he looked back to Lou, Mike, Tony, Tony's Pizza’s darkened door and then back to you. He opened his mouth, but you held up your hand to stop him. He gave a nod of understanding and you could see the watery endearment in his gaze.

You could feel your eyes mirror his so you squeezed them shut to precent any happy tears. Building up your courage, your heart raced wildly. As your meter maxed out, you opened your eyes with wide determination. Staring Donnie down, you took a few tentative steps forward and did what you should have done all along.

“Hi. I have a crush on you. Can I have your number and also will you go out with me?”

Donnie lunged forward and scooped you up in a fervor; your coat forgotten on the sidewalk. You both giggled, your cheeks red from the cold.

“Yes. I'd love to.”

THE END

#crushtoomuchfic #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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sailor-aviator · 5 months

Text

Y’all, tell me why the men at my car rental agency gave me a Dodge Charger today???

I have no business driving something like that.

#Liz speaks #Liz’s personal tag #this is dangerous I fear #as an empath I can sense that sort of thing

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firstelevens · 7 months

Note

No. 20 from the eras tour prompt list for sambucky ? ?

did I hear someone ask for a Sweet Home Alabama Louisiana AU? no? well I wrote the start of one anyway, so here it is

20. all your dirtiest jokes

Pebbles go flying as Bucky pulls his rental up in front of Sam’s house. He kind of wishes there was the satisfying screech of tires on asphalt to emphasize his mood, but he slams the car door twice as hard to make up for it, and feels just a little bit better afterwards.

Back when they were kids, the Wilsons’ place had been close enough to the neighbors’ houses to wave at them from the porch. The house that Sam bought when he came home from his first tour is set back a lot further than that, wooded where it doesn’t back up onto the water, so Bucky has no compunctions about getting a little shouty.

“Sam Wilson, I know you’re in there!” he calls out, walking up to the front door. “You can dodge my calls as long as you want, but I’m not going anywhere until you open up.”

It’s not a big house, and there’s at least three open windows, so there’s no question that Bucky’s voice is carrying through loud and clear, but there’s no response. Bucky raps sharply on the doorframe.

“You can’t avoid me forever, Sam. I know this town just as well as you do, and I will follow you everywhere.”

It takes another five minutes, but finally, Bucky sees a figure approaching through the frosted glass pane on the front door. When it swings open, he’s met with a bare-chested Sam Wilson, breathing heavy from a workout as he pulls his earbuds out of his ears.

For all that he was yelling a second ago, Bucky suddenly can’t seem to make words come out of his mouth. To add insult to injury, Sam seems perfectly unaffected by the sight of him, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Bucky Barnes,” he drawls, and Bucky hates how comforting that voice still is after all this time. “What can I do for you?”

In a second, the ire comes flickering back to life. The nerve of Sam, to ask that question when he knows perfectly well the only thing that Bucky’s been asking him for for the past year.

He holds up the envelope that’s the whole reason he had to drag his ass back here, a thousand miles and twenty years removed from home.

“You could start by giving me a fucking divorce.”

Bucky spent so long working himself up over this, back in New York and on the plane here and on the almost-two-hour drive from New Orleans. He’d written and rewritten a hundred different speeches, rehearsed so many arguments with the Sam in his head that he was sure he’d know exactly what to say.

But now he was here, and he’d gone and delivered what should’ve been the last line of his scathing speech way too early, and what more was there to do except stand there on Sam’s porch and glare at him expectantly?

Sam, for his part, looks at Bucky consideringly for a moment, then peers around him to look out towards the yard. “You should come inside,” he says, and then steps away, leaving the door open.

The petty part of Bucky wants to refuse, wants to make a nuisance of himself right here on the porch so Sam can’t ignore him, but then he stops to take in his surroundings for longer than a second. The air is thick, the heat more sluggish than it was when his flight touched down. Beyond the trees, the sky has gotten darker. It’s been a while since Bucky lived on the bayou, but the signs of an oncoming storm haven’t changed.

He huffs and steps into Sam’s house, closing the door behind him just as thunder rumbles in the distance. It’s cooler inside, at least, and as Sam moves further into the house, Bucky figures he’s supposed to follow. He’s still not completely over his need to be a nuisance—or so he tells himself—so he goes slowly, glancing around at the house that Sam bought long after Bucky wasn’t a part of his life anymore.

Bucky knows it’s a completely different building, but part of him still expects that it’ll be the house that Sam grew up in, all warm wood and quiet chaos. Somewhere in his head, he thinks that if he just went up that staircase in front of him, he’d end up in Sam’s childhood bedroom, sixteen years old and laid out on the floor with the boombox between them, laughing at the dirty jokes that Sam heard in senior calc or trying to figure out just what the deal was between their grade’s latest on-again, off-again couple.

But this isn’t that house, Bucky reminds himself, and this isn’t back then. He’s not looking to go back in time; he just wants to go forwards, and he could if Sam would just cooperate.

“What happened, you get lost in that hallway?” asks Sam, when Bucky finally makes it to the kitchen. He doesn’t bother answering, but Sam’s back is to him, so there’s no way to tell whether he’s even noticed. “Hey, cream and no sugar, right?”

“What?”

Sam turns around with a mug of coffee in his hand, and Bucky’s pretty sure he can’t hide how he immediately perks up when the cup is set in front of him. For a second, he thinks about telling Sam that he does take sugar now, just to be contrarian, but then he remembers he’d actually have to drink it and throws that plan out the window.

“This is fine, thanks,” he eventually says, setting the envelope on the island and picking up the coffee. He hasn’t had caffeine since before his flight this morning, and he can feel the first sip right down to his toes. His eyes actually close for a second, and when he opens them, Sam is back on the other side of the counter, looking amused. There’s no mug in his hands.

“You’re not having any?” Bucky asks. “What’d you do, poison it?”

Even if he did, Bucky’s not convinced he’d be able to put it down. It’s really good coffee.

“I will,” says Sam. “But my Mama would kill me if I entertained company like this, so I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home; the view’s nice from the family room if you missed the water.”

He breezes out before Bucky can argue, his footsteps thudding up the stairs between one sip of coffee and the next.

After a moment of looking around incredulously, waiting to see if maybe he’s being pranked, Bucky decides this is just Sam trying to annoy him into leaving, and he won’t let it work. He marches into the family room just as the rain starts in earnest, and just to spite Sam, he turns his back to the French doors and surveys the rest of the room. There’s art hanging up, intermingled with family photos. Lumpy ceramics that are definitely grade school art projects sit beside beautiful crystalline sculptures, tall and spiky and somehow familiar.

Along one of the walls is the credenza that Bucky recognizes from Sam’s parents’ house, the one that Mr. Wilson had hauled home from an estate sale and refinished just because Sam’s mother had lingered beside it for a few seconds longer than anything else. It’s a different color now than it was before, but Bucky would recognize it anywhere. Sitting on top of it are what Bucky guesses are the important photos: Sarah’s wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson on the boat together, Sam with a toddler beside him and a baby in his arms.

Furthest to the left is a picture of the dock behind the Wilson house. Two figures sit at the end of it, leaning into each other in the sunshine. One of them wears a t-shirt, gangly arms braced behind them. The other has a letterman jacket on, and that’s what tips Bucky off when he picks up the frame to look at it more closely: that’s him and Sam, sitting out where they did almost every day after school. Sam had gotten his varsity jacket for the baseball team when they were sophomores, and Bucky was pretty sure he’d worn it more often than Sam had. He’d always liked the way it felt on his shoulders, and when fall rolled around and the wind blew in a little cooler off the water, Sam always passed it over to him without needing to be asked.

They’d gotten a little more refined, once driver’s licenses were acquired and curfews were lengthened. Sam would drive the Wilsons’ old pickup truck a little ways out of town, to an empty plot of land flanked by trees on one side and water on the other, and they would sit and soak up the wind off the water until they could both breathe a little easier. Bucky had started thinking of it as their piece of the island, the safest place he could ever remember being.

When the future had barreled towards them with no signs of stopping, it was where Sam had driven them, nothing around but the birds in the trees when he quietly suggested his plan for getting out of Delacroix and taking Bucky with him. Nobody else had been around to see Bucky fling his arms around Sam’s neck and whisper a muffled yes into his shoulder, either: both of them a little bit scared of the future but determined to make it better for each other.

Maybe they can be reasonable about this. Maybe he and Sam can look at each other and see exactly what the other person needs, the way they did when they were younger. Maybe there don’t have to be questions and discussions and the kind of passive aggressive emails they’ve been exchanging through lawyers for the past year.

The rain is still coming down hard, lulling Bucky into a daze, so he can’t be blamed for the way he startles when Sam’s voice sounds from behind him. He scrambles to grab the picture frame before it falls out of his hands, setting it down and taking a beat before he turns around.

Sam is holding the envelope with the divorce papers in his hands, but Bucky has seen his ‘I give up’ face and that definitely isn’t it.

“The entire year that we’ve been going over this, I’ve asked you the same question, over and over, and you’ve never answered,” Sam says.

“Fuck,” says Bucky, scrubbing a hand down his face. “This? Again?”

“Yeah, again,” says Sam. “Because if I’m getting a divorce, I at least deserve to know why. I deserve to know what changed.”

“I have told you every single time you asked, Sam. Nothing changed. Nothing changed, because this was never a real marriage, and you know that. We got married so we could both get the fuck out of this town, and so I could stop being so terrified all the time, and we did that, and now we’re done.”

Sam crosses his arms, setting his jaw, and it occurs to Bucky that this is the first battle of a long war. “We did all that fifteen years ago, easy. That’s not what this is about. What changed, Buck?”

But Bucky can’t answer Sam any more now than he could the first time he asked that question a year ago. He can’t remind Sam of all the things he missed out on because he was tied to Bucky, he can’t bring up Riley or Sam’s parents or all the little ways that Bucky managed to steal things from him without even trying, because Sam would never see it. Even now, squaring off against each other with no possible middle ground, Sam would never see it, so Bucky can’t say it.

“Just sign the damn papers, Sam,” is what Bucky says instead.

It’s the first time he’s ever evaded the question in person. Somehow when he pictured Sam reading all those emails and messages he’d sent, Bucky had never imagined a flicker of disappointment on his face, gone as soon as it appeared.

Sam turns to set the envelope on an end table and picks up a wristwatch from beside it, doing up the strap before he turns around again. When he does, he’s got a determinedly cheerful smile on his face, the kind that Bucky has always known meant trouble.

“Gee, Buck, I wish I could, but as it happens, I’m running late for something,” he says, with an exaggerated look at his watch. “Maybe later?”

He’s already heading for the door, leaving Bucky to hurry after him. “What do you mean you’re late for something? Where the fuck are you going in a hurricane?”

Sam snorts. “You’ve been away too long. This is barely even a storm.”

An enormous crack of lightning punctuates his words, and Bucky raises his eyebrows.

“It’s a drizzle,” says Sam, pulling on a jacket. “And I have a date.”

Bucky is not entirely prepared for the feelings that those words stoke in his chest, but worse still is what Sam calls out before the door swings shut behind him.

“Guest bedroom’s upstairs, second door on the left. Don’t wait up.”

He’s not entirely sure how much time he loses, fuming in the foyer of Sam’s house, but eventually, that rage sharpens into something else entirely as he remembers what he yelled out standing on Sam’s porch half an hour ago.

He knows this town just as well as Sam does.

He knows this town just as well as Sam does, and unless fifty years of corporate development hit Delacroix in the last fifteen, there’s only one place to take a date if you’re an adult who doesn’t want to get accosted by the entire senior population of the island over the course of your evening.

Bucky pulls his keys from his pocket and and umbrella from Sam’s coat closet. If Sam means to drag this out, Bucky’s going to make sure he feels every single second, until he decides for himself that this marriage is more trouble than it’s worth.

(And if, before he leaves, he swaps his comfortable traveling clothes for a short sleeved button down that’s a size too small and not buttoned enough, well, nobody ever said Bucky was perfect.)

#sambucky #ok admittedly i lied emma did in fact cheerlead the writing of this and encourage me the whole way but what's new #this is truly just like. the opening half a chapter of this au but I have THOUGHTS #to be clear the rest of it is never getting written unless a miracle occurs #but here have this nonsense on the occasion of bonky's birthday #zainab does ask meme things #taylor swift prompt fics

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see-the-fandom-imagines · 1 year

Text

What’s in it for me?

Chapter 2/?

Chapter 1 Masterlist

Pairing: Kyouya Ootori x Reader

Author: see-the-fandom-imagines

Warnings: None at all.

Word Count: 2629

A/N: As mentioned before I take inspiration from anime and live-action, so I hope it isn't too confusing! :)

And yes, this is incredibly slow-burn, but hopefully worth it.Also I had to put this episode into two chapters, otherwise they'd have been too long. I know it's starting slow, but I got a few things planned for the next chapters, so stay tuned.

It had been a few weeks now since you had started helping out in the host club and on most days everything went down smoothly. You went to work twice a week and joined Haruhi in Music Room 3 on all other days. After a while everybody got used to you, the girls would ask you less questions about Haruhi you had to dodge and you had talked a little more with each one of the hosts. You didn’t mind coming in so often to be honest, mostly because it meant you could hang out more with Haruhi, but you had to admit, as crazy as the other hosts were, you soon realized that they were some of the nicest people you ever met. Well, some were nicer than others, but still. You had rarely felt that accepted anywhere this quickly.

“They’re back to their nonsense…”, Haruhi stated and you chuckled, carrying a tray full of green tea, when suddenly a bunch of girls surrounded her. “Haruhi-kun, you look so great in that kimono!” “Yes, almost like a girl.” You smiled at her. She really did look beautiful. But as always when the topic got even somewhat close to Haruhi being a girl a familiar voice interrupted. “Haruhi, you've booked another appointment. It seems you've had a pretty steady flow of new customers lately. Keep up the good work.” Kyouya scribbled something onto a scroll while speaking. You wondered if he was actually writing or if that was just another useless prop. "I'm not going to charge you interest on your debt like I normally would, so keep this up and you should be able to pay it off. Although the rental fee on that kimono you're wearing is nothing to sneeze at.” He smiled sweetly, and all the girls seemed captivated by it. “Kyouya-sama”, one girl spoke up and you rolled your eyes. “You’re just too much in that kimono!” He took that compliment gracefully as you sighed and walked past, just trying to get out of the situation. “Oh, but why didn’t you get one, (y/n)-chan?” Surprised you looked up. A girl with dark brown hair had appeared in front of you, looking up at you with big eyes. "I bet you would look really cute in one, too." Did she blush? "Oh, well, I-" “Because she is not an official member”, Kyouya’s voice rang out without missing a beat and you simply chuckled dryly, looking down at your usual school uniform. “Ah, that’s true”, another girl noted, absolutely dazzled the second the older guy spoke up. “Let’s not talk about the rental fee…”, you murmured a tad too loud, so that Kyouya would definitely hear you, but the girls just kept on blabbering something about picture books. Somehow it didn’t even surprise you anymore that Kyouya sold secret photos of all of the hosts. You kept on listening, while putting down a cup of tea infront of another girl. But maybe you could use that to your advantage.

“Hey, Kaoru”, you yelled, waving the twin in your direction. “Just Kaoru?”, Hikaru spoke up and followed suit, taking one of the tea cups from your tray. You had known he'd follow in a flirty mood if you just mentioned his brother. Kaoru didn't react this strongly. Carefully you took out your mobile phone from your pocket with your free hand. “What is it, (y/n)”, Kaoru said, smiling at you, bending over so he could look into your eyes, but your gaze was fixed on your phone. You held out the tray for him, so he'd take the other tea cup, before placing the now empty tray on a random couch. “I just wanted to bring you some tea”, you said, smiling at him. He didn’t quite seem to believe you and his gaze fell on the phone in your hand. “Do you want my number?” You smiled. That wasn’t quite what you had in mind, but, “yes, if it’s alright with you?” Hikaru appeared on his brother’s side. “How unfair, what about me?” “I want your number, too, of course. I thought now that we are friends, we should be able to contact each other, no?”

Minutes later you sat down in front of Kyouya, sighing, playing with your phone. He didn’t even look up. “Is it time for your break, yet?”, he asked, but you chose to ignore that question. You lowered your phone, before bending over the table a little, trying to make eye contact. “Instead of making me carry stuff, let me help you with that”, you said, pointing at his scroll and the tablet that was hidden underneath a cloth. Only now did he look up and raised an eyebrow. “What? I might as well help out in a way that’s a little more useful, no?” Kyouya still didn’t seem convinced. You sighed. “You need photos to sell, but only got random blurry pics, correct?” “Yes”, he said. “You think you can sell them?” “Not quite”, you said. “But you need photos, no?” Kyouya finally put down his scroll. You had successfully caught his interest. “So you’re saying you can deliver pictures of all hosts that are good enough to sell?” “Better”, you smirked and lifted your phone.

Kyouya looked at the picture you had just taken of him, entirely without him noticing. It wasn’t the most professional picture ever, but it was also not blurry and it looked weirdly natural. “It looks like we’re on a date”, you exclaimed happily, but hushed your voice as you noticed some girls reacting to what you had just said. Kyouya seemed irritated at first but then began to understand. “Scroll through”, you told him, and he did. “Pictures of the twins”, you explained unnecessarily. “Look me in the eye and tell me those don’t look like the pics a girlfriend would take.” Kyouya smiled, before looking back up at you. That was smart. And no one had even noticed, which would make the pictures even easier to sell, since none of the other hosts would complain too much. You were really quite something. Maybe he had underestimated you, not that he would ever admit to that. You saw the sparkle in his eyes and grinned confidently. For a moment the both of you were just looking at each other, trying to read each others expressions or even minds, if possible, when suddenly you were interrupted by Tamaki shouting out random things again a little louder than he should have. Kyouya broke the eye contact and sighed. He got up, trying to see what that was about, but not without giving you a quick nod to signal you, that your talk wasn’t over yet.

"Damn it", you cursed, but got up as well, following Kyouya towards the commotion. The twins and Tamaki were greeting a girl that had partially hidden behind the door. She seemed shy. A new customer? You instantly felt a little bad for her, having not only the twins, but also Tamaki approach you, could be too much for most people. Especially since Tamaki obviously had activated his princely charm. “Please, you don't have to be afraid, my Princess. I welcome you to the Ouran Host Club.” But the new girl didn’t hesitate. Before he could even finish talking she pushed him away, screaming loudly. “NO! Don't touch me! You're phony!” Tamaki stumbled back, holding his face in his dramatic fashion. “Wh-What do you mean, phony?”, he asked but she didn’t let him down easily. You had definitely underestimated her. That girl was everything but shy. “Just what I said, you're phony! I find it hard to believe that someone like you is the Prince character of this Host Club! You shouldn't go spreading your love around so easily like that, you stupid!" Wow, she really kept going. "You must be a dimwitted narcissist! You're incompetent! You're a commoner! You're disgusting!" You waited a second to see if she was done, but had watched in awe as she kept insulting the self-proclaimed king of the club. Tamaki fell down, the other hosts watching him, concerned. Ouch. That hurt. Even Kyouya stepped closer, but only took a brief look at Tamaki, before he turned around to the girl. Realisation hit his features. “Could you be…” Surprised you watched his expression change, before you heard the girl scream again: “Kyouya-sama!” She ran towards him, pushing you out of the way and making you stumble backwards. Kyouya saw you fall, but he couldn’t react fast enough, for the strange girl had wrapped her arms around his waist. Thankfully, the next thing you felt wasn't the hard floor, but a pair of arms holding you, right before you would have collided with the floor. “Thank you, Senpai", you smiled up at Mori, who carefully helped you back to your feet. Your gaze shifted back to Kyouya who had instinctively lifted his hands, trying very hard not to touch the strange girl. Surprised you looked from him down to her, and back up to him. His gaze met yours and he looked like he wanted to say something, but she interrupted. “Oh, how I've longed to meet you! My one and only Prince Charming.” For the first time since you had started in this host club, you were entirely out of words.

----

“Fiancee?”, the twins yelled in unison. “Kyouya’s?” “Yes”, she confirmed. You kept staring at Kyouya, who had remained silent the entire time. “Kyoyas fiancée”, you repeated, the word left a bitter taste in your mouth. "Did you know about this?", you asked Haruhi, who sat next to you, looking at least as confused as you were. "I had no idea", she whispered back, before the new girl continued to speak. “I am Renge Hoshakuji”, she introduced herself, but you still only stared at Kyouya. Was he really engaged? Maybe all those dramas were right and rich young kids did get engaged by their parents. Or did they choose to get married? No, that couldn’t be, the way he had lifted his arms as she hugged him really didn’t seem like they were deeply in love with each other. If that was even an emotion Kyouya could feel. “Ours is a story of love at first sight! I couldn't resist the way you were adoring those flowers in the backyard when you thought no one else was looking. And how sweet it was when you reached out to that poor little injured kitten.” “Is she serious”, the twins asked. “Could it be that you got the wrong person?”, Haruhi added. You still looked at Kyouya who finally realized your penetrating gaze and looked at you, face unreadable. “No way! I can recognize my love any where! He's a gentleman who's kind to everyone but doesn't ask for anything in return! He likes solitude but in fact sometimes he can get lonely!” The twins started yelling in the background, loudly expressing the confusion you all felt. That really did not sound in the slightest like Kyouya. Did he lead a secret life none of you knew about? You thought for a second, before you decided to speak up, also to hopefully calm down the twins a little. “If you’re engaged, why have you never met?”, you asked, and it worked. Everything went silent and the hosts looked surprised. “What?”, you asked. “Isn’t that obvious? She obviously needed a while to even recognize him and that description… No offense, but that’s not Kyouya.” “None taken”, he said, seeming almost pleased that his reputation hadn't suffered too much from her words. “She is right”, Hikaru started. “But it is quite common to get engaged without meeting the partner.” Your mouth formed a small 'o' and you looked at Kyouya, furling your brows. He noted your expression and couldn’t help but wonder what you were thinking. Were you … worried? Renge didn't even give anyone else the chance to react, though, because she almost immediately resumed speaking as if she hadn't listened to a single word either of you were saying. “He looks like the star of the popular dating sim Uki Doki Memorial! You're my real life Ichijo Miyabi!” She pointed at Kyouya, and suddenly the coin dropped. "Uki ..." "... Doki ...” “Memorial?” “Otaku!”, yelled Tamaki and the others followed suit. “I get it now”, Kyoya spoke up, “you're in love with that character. You're projecting that love onto me, and somehow deluded yourself into thinking that we're engaged. I assume this Miyabi character probably wears glasses as well.” “Ah my real Prince Charming! Ichijo Miyabi! I can't wait to get married! And we're gonna have the prettiest babies ever!” You felt the sweat drop from your forehead. Now she was already talking about babies. “So she made iit up, you’re not really her fiancé, right?”, Tamaki stated and Kyoya shook his head. “Well no, I don't remember ever asking for her hand in marriage." He thought for a while. "Besides, this is the first time I've ever met the woman.” Everybody stopped dead in their tracks, glaring at Kyouya angrily. Including you. “You could have mentioned you weren’t engaged ages ago”, you yelled at him, mad that he had made you worried in the first place. You sighed angrily and looked away. “I was worried”, you whispered, but Renge interrupted you again and this time you let her push you out of the way. You trained your eyes on the ground, not really knowing why all of this bothered you so much in the first place. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “He really could have said so sooner”, Kaoru said, squeezing your shoulder slightly while rolling his eyes and you smiled up at him. He must have heard you. "Thanks", you whispered, and Kaoru blushed a little, but kept his hand where it was. "Really, the last person you should ever worry about is Kyouya", he continued, making you chuckle. He grinned at you, before his brother caught his attention again. For a moment you thought about just leaving, but Renge was already back in action. Kyoya had gotten up, too, seemingly to get his notebook, but something told you he just wanted to bring some distance between him and her without seeming rude. He stopped next to you as Renge finished her monologue. “I've made up my mind! From now on, I'm gonna be the manager of this host club!” Everybody sighed. “That was an option?”, you whispered. Kyouya shrugged. “You didn’t ask for that position.” You shot him another unbelieving glance, before you got up, now feeling the need to bring a little distance between him and yourself. A bit overwhelmed, you decided to step next to Haruhi. Maybe she could help you feel a little more sane around here. “Is it always like this?” She sighed, watching the scene unfold infront of her. “Mostly, yeah.”

Tamaki joined your corner and stepped inbetween Haruhi and Kyouya. He obviously was just as taken aback by the sudden attack of the lady manager. “Uhm, listen, Kyouya…”, he started, but got interrupted almost immediately. “Miss Houshakuji is the only daughter of a very important Ootori family client", Kyouya explained with a smile. "So please be polite and try not to offend her alright?” You scoffed which earned you a reprimanding glance from the host club's director. But you didn't care and instead just looked away and decided to take care of your tea again. You really didn’t feel like acting like a clown for some random girl popping in and pushing herself on everybody like that. You picked up your tray and some empty tea cups. She had just waltzed in here, claiming Kyouya was her fiancé and that she'd be the club's new manager. You felt a pang of jealousy in your chest. Probably because of the manager thing. A tea cup fell out of your hand. You stared for a moment at the shards on the ground, before you sighed and began picking up the broken fragments. That would cost you at least a 1.000 Yen. Silently, you continued cleaning up, not feeling Kyoyas observant eyes on your back.

Chapter 3

#ootori kyouya x reader #kyouya ootori x reader #ootori kyoya x reader #kyoya ootori x reader #kyouya x reader #kyouya ootori #ootori kyouya #ootori kyoya #ohshc #ohshc x reader #tamaki suo #hikaru hitachiin #kaoru hitachiin #hikaru #mori #takashi morinozuka #mitsukuni haninozuka #ouran x reader

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