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arigatouiris · 4 years ago

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always you // tsukishima x reader

Author’s Note: I am kinda proud of this one because I relate to the reader and Tsukki here so I just projected half of my personalities into either of them hahaha. Again, before I take requests, which I do, I want to finish clearing the works on my draft first. Currently I have two more one shots before my draft is completely clear and so far I have 3 requests in total. Also, I can totally see Tsukki as the pining type and hopeless romantic, yanno? I hope ya’ll like this~

Word count: 6329 words

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Reader (Aged up) (College AU)

Warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol, intoxication, intense pining, slight sexual references, eventual fluff, tired reader

If someone would have told Tsukishima Kei that he would miss every single detail about Karasuno when he’d graduate, he’d have laughed at their face. He wasn’t sentimental, anyone who knew Tsukishima knew that he was one of the most practical people they’d ever meet, but here he was, standing beside a particular desk in his 3-4 classroom, staring at an inscription on it that reminded him of you.

The classroom is empty, and the silence echoes in his head constantly. It takes him only a second to think of how loud it would be if it were filled with people—it feels like just yesterday when this very classroom was bustling with joy and laughter, and here you’d sit, reading a book or trying to take a quick nap or doodling.

Looking anywhere but at him.

He let out a breath before feeling his eyes burn, his fingers ghosting over the inscription on the desk. He thinks of your smile directed at him, your hair blowing in the wind, your laughter at something Yamaguchi said, and the way your eyes would glisten when you called out his name.

Tsukki.

His heart was constricting with a familiar sort of pain, the very pain he felt when he broke up with you six months ago; he remembered how your eyes didn’t widen, how tired you looked, how you pressed your lips together, and just walked away. You must have expected it, the way things had been going in the last year. You had your own club activities, and Kei had his dedication to the volleyball club—yet, despite how understanding the both of you had been earlier, third year did not work out.

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi’s voice broke him out of his stupor, before he pulled his hand away from the inscription. “Do you... Do you want to speak to her?”

He did.

Oh, he missed you with every fibre of his being. He wanted to talk to you, he wanted to bury his fingers in your hair, touch your skin, kiss you till you became breathless and he wanted to see the blush settle on your face because of him. He wanted to apologize and scream at how stupid he was for letting you go, and all of this he had realized in six months of not being around you. People often said that first loves don’t last forever, but Kei wanted nothing more than to make things work with you.

No one understood him like you did; you took his snapping with a bulletproof shield and you were headstrong when he was letting himself feel weak. You didn’t punish him for being himself, instead, you embraced him for everything that came with him being who he was—even the bad parts.

“No.”

But, he knew it was too late. He knew you were probably not even in school. Your medical entrance was not far away, and he knew how hard you were working for it. That’s what he loved most about you. On days when he thought he wasn’t paying much attention to you, he’d be one of the last things on your mind because you had a life of your own. He’d wonder if he was being a bad boyfriend by neglecting you for days, not texting you or calling you, but then he’d hear from Yamaguchi that your club activities kept you so busy that it was hard for you to initiate any contact as well.

And when you two did meet after a week of not talking, you’d embrace him with that calming, quite addictive smile and a soft hug before he pushed you away and made fun of you. He’d secretly do it just to see you pout, which he thought was adorable.

And his heart would break when you’d apologize to him instead. Tsukki, I’m sorry I was so busy, his eyes would widen, The club needed me to finish the reports for the anthology we were preparing—

He’d shut you up each time with a firm kiss. The loud beating of his heart meant that he liked you more than he let you know and he only wondered if that would ever bite him in the ass later.

And it did.

It had been seven months since he had last seen you.

Tsukishima knew you were in Tohoku Medical University, and the last time he had seen you was near his own university, meeting with a bunch of girls. He didn’t approach you, quickly hid himself away at an angle that allowed him to look at you, while you couldn’t see him. You didn’t cut your hair, despite how he believed girls after a relationship would make some change; however, you looked exactly like he remembered, no changes.

Did that mean something? He couldn’t deny how he was feeling upon seeing you there, smiling and talking to people he didn’t know, and he ached for you. To see you was to be seduced by you, and he loved how feisty you were with him.

You weren’t shy, you didn’t have a flat personality like most girls he had met. You were a dangerous combination of everything that could ruin him, personified in a form that always took his breath away. Only he could see you flustered, only his touches could make you sigh and gasp and breathless, and he’d have it no other way.

He yearned for a glimpse of you throughout the day, and only at nights he could see you, be with you. But, somehow, you would be gone when he woke up.

It was a week after that did Tsukishima even tell Yamaguchi that he had seen you, to which the blond got news that he perhaps, could have lived without.

“She’s dating someone.”

Tsukishima’s eyes widen at his friend’s words, who only looked a tad bit uncomfortable at how the blond was staring at him.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have brought it up—”

“Who is it?”

Yamaguchi gulped, unsure if he even had to say anymore. He knew how his friend felt about you, and throwing at him this sudden bit of information could damage him more than he already was. Clearly, Tsukishima Kei had not stopped yearning for you, despite the breakup, despite the gap, despite the almost one year of not being with you.

“It’s someone from her college... Her senpai, I think?”

But, there was no way Yamaguchi could ever lie to Kei. Tsukishima was grateful for the news, but the way it made him feel was not worth knowing the information. He felt a rock settle in between his lungs and every time he breathed he thought of you, and it hurt all the more than it did before. No matter how many deep breaths he took, Tsukishima could not let go of that rock.

“It’s been long anyway,” He couldn’t even hear his own words, “Good for her.”

Yamaguchi was the one who could see the emotions plastered on his friend’s face, and his heart dropped at the mere sight. Of all the years he had known Tsukishima, he had never seen him so exposed, so vulnerable, and without you, he was just a mess. A walking body of high-functioning anxiety, Tsukishima Kei would rather let his demons devour him than reveal that a girl was making him feel so helpless.

But, that girl was you—strength and beauty personified; there was no wonder that Kei fell so hard for you.

Yamaguchi still remembered that day clearly. The first time you two met, in final year of Junior High. Your relationship with Kei was as special as the one he shared with the blond, and even though you didn’t know him as long, it was just as strong, just as precious, and just as important.

In final year of Junior High, your grades suddenly skyrocketed and you were placed in his class—the teacher often comparing your grades with his own, two of the smartest people in class. Though, your smarts did not just come from you paying attention in class, it came from late-night work and intense studying on weekends.

He had learned later on that you could not afford a cram school, so you would often cram by yourself, into ungodly hours on weekdays, and you’d come to class looking like a zombie and he’d snicker only to have you either ignore him or snap back.

Nevertheless, Kei grew to care for you and Yamaguchi noticed. He’d notice how Kei’s advances at making fun of you died down quite a bit afterward, and if he saw you struggling with something, he’d voluntarily walk over to you and offer to help you—surprising Yamaguchi, and himself in many ways, but what blew his mind was how you’d take his help despite the number of times you’d snapped at him, and you’d thank him, genuinely, making his heart feel full.

You’d started calling him Tsukki by the end of that year, and you’d gotten into Karasuno as well. It was as if the three of you were destined now, and slowly, he realized he developed feelings for you.

And even then, it was you who asked him out. Your face was red, your hands were behind your back, hoping that he’d not see that you were practically shaking, and you were a bit scared that he’d make fun of you. The year had just started, and his practice was going to keep him busy, but you liked him. You liked everything about Tsukishima Kei starting from the teasing, the relentless sarcasm, and the unbridled dedication, which was only masked by his nonchalant demeanor.

But, it surprised you when no teasing ensued. You could never forget the way he looked right then—red faced, hand covering half his jaw, looking away from you like his life was on the line.

“Y-Yeah, I know. You free this weekend?”

Kei thought of you every single day after Yamaguchi told him you were dating someone else. He’d think of you with someone, laughing at their jokes, holding their hand, letting them smell your hair or watch you smile, get the chance to see your eyes glisten toward them.

His thoughts now weren’t even that innocent; on odd days, in the loneliness his apartment brought him, Tsukishima thought of you kissing the boy you were dating, having his hands roam all over you, having some man ravage you instead of him. All Tsukishima could do was wonder what it would be like to take your first, what it would feel like to have his hands roam all over you—his thoughts, while not innocent, reflected how utterly alone he felt.

And when Tsukishima woke up every single morning, his mind would go crawling back to you with guilt over how dirty his thoughts were the previous night.

That evening, after practice, Tsukishima noticed Yamaguchi approach him, waving his hands, flailing them from side to side. Tsukishima rolled his eyes at his friend, who merely smiled at the blond before they walked out of the gym together.

“What’s with you today?”

Yamaguchi said, “She broke up with him.”

Tsukishima could not miss the way his heart skipped a beat at what Yamaguchi said. ‘She’ was automatically ‘you’, and that one vague sentence made so much sense to him that it had him thinking of how much you had him wrapped around your finger, without even knowing it. He turned to his friend, who merely nodded, and continued.

“Apparently, he was too clingy. They’re in med school, and she’s not free at all. Now more so than it was in high school, and her senpai kept nagging at her for not spending enough time with her and she called it off a few days ago.”

Tsukishima did not hide the smirk that sat on his lips.

“She was always the individualistic type.” He commented, his voice low.

“Yeah,” Tadashi nodded, “She needs her space, that (y/n).”

Tsukishima was in a way glad that you considered Yamaguchi so close. Some part of his mind wondered if the reason you told Yamaguchi such intricate details of your life was because you wanted him to know about you. Maybe, you knew Tadashi would ultimately tell Kei about everything, and maybe that was what you wanted.

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi voiced, “I can’t do this anymore...”

His eyes widened at his friend’s sudden revelation.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe, (y/n)-chan tells me these things hoping I’d not tell you. Maybe, she wants me to tell you, either way, this is exhausting. You still love her, and she... she’s still trying to wrap her head around whatever it is she’s feeling and I feel like I’m caught in the middle here.”

Tsukishima knew that he could feel this way, but there was no way he could allow himself to lose the one thing that linked him to you. That one thing being Yamaguchi.

“Yama—”

“Tsukki, please.”

Kei turned away before pressing his lips into a thin line. He understands, but he doesn’t like it. Yamaguchi knows that his friend doesn’t appreciate it, but the fact that Tsukishima Kei would never wish for someone’s unhappiness over his selfish desires was what kept their friendship going.

Just as he was about to fall asleep that night, his phone rings. He’d not miss the number anywhere, his eyes were saucers as they were staring at your name on his phone screen, calling him at 1 a.m., almost as if you were used to calling him all these months.

His fingers ghost around the phone screen before deciding to pick the call, his heart rummaging in his chest the entire time.

“(y/n)?”

“Tsukki?”

In that one utterance, Tsukishima knew something was wrong. You weren’t yourself, there was something different, something that showcased that you were not entirely sane at that second. His stomach plummeted to the bottom when he realized what was actually going on.

“Are you... are you drunk?”

You let out a bitter laugh before scoffing, “No, you’re drunk. Loser.”

He was suddenly very, very annoyed. He instantly got up, grabbing his jacket, checking the time once again before getting shocked once again at how careless you were being.

“Where the hell are you? I’m coming to get you—”

“I’m being followed, Tsukki.”

He could puke right now. In all his 20 years of life, he has never felt this scared. He felt the back of his eyelids burn, begging him to let himself cry, but if he had a breakdown it would only delay in getting to you. He needed to get you safe, he needed to ensure that you were within four walls, untouched, unscathed.

“Where are you?”

“Inside a 7 Eleven... I think this is the one near Sendai?”

He knows where you are, but that doesn’t give him any sort of relief.

“Stay there. Do you understand me? Stay right there, and don’t fucking hang up.”

He doesn’t even bother to take his wallet, Tsukishima bolts out of his apartment, locking it, running towards the particular store you were in. He spots you from outside, you were not dressed provocatively, a fact that he was grateful for, and rushed inside to grab you by your wrist. You instantly pulled away, before looking up and realizing it was Tsukishima.

Your eyes widened at his sudden arrival before he noticed how flushed your face was. You were so beautiful, it was breathtaking, but right now, all he could feel was unbridled anger.

“No one’s following you, (y/n). What the fuck is wrong with you? Why did you—”

“I was being paranoid? Man, I really need to sit down—”

“Who left you here?” Tsukishima asked, anger bubbling in his chest.

He pulled you out of the store before leading you to his apartment. Walking with you there would take you ten minutes easily, but this part he didn’t care. He was glad that you were safe, but he was still angry at how careless your actions were.

“My ex left me there. He wanted to talk about something, I think? But I just didn’t want to listen to him,” Kei looked at you from the side, his hand wrapped around your wrist, “I kept chugging one drink after another because I was just...”

He saw the eye bags under your eyes and he saw how dry your lips were. You were clearly dehydrated, and you looked devastatingly tired. Med school wasn’t a walk in the park, but seeing you like this, almost defeated, somehow reminded him of himself.

“...I was just so tired.”

Kei’s eyes did not leave your form. He was hyperaware that the two of you hadn’t reached home yet, and whatever conversation he was going to have with you, he understood that right now wasn’t the best time. You were intoxicated, and by the looks of it, you were probably not going to remember anything of what was happening at the moment.

A few more minutes later, Tsukishima had dragged you into his apartment, and latched the door behind him. He was grateful that he didn’t need to share his space with anyone, which meant he could avoid idiotic questions like ‘who’s the girl?’ or ‘it’s so late in the night, though?’, because right then, all Tsukishima wanted was answers from you, whether you were in a drunken stupor or not. Handing you a large glass of water and glaring at you until you drank it, Kei forced you to sit on the edge of his bed and watched you keenly.

“Apparently senpai wanted to get back together,” You said, surprisingly sounding a lot less drunk.

But, judging from your eyes and the way you were unable to focus on his unmoving form, which was right in front of you, he was certain that the alcohol was still in your system. Kei’s heart went out to how sad you actually looked, your light pink sweater was still neat, your jeans unstained, your hair tied in a messy bun—you weren’t dressed for drinks. It was perhaps either spontaneous or you were pushed to a point where you were so pissed off that drinking seemed the only way out.

“Did he... Did he do anything?”

Tsukishima felt stupid for even attempting to ask you this, but he calmed down when he saw you smile to yourself.

“No, I had pepper spray in my pocket.”

“Had?”

“I think I lost it now.”

Kei wanted to slap himself. You weren’t always like this. You weren’t someone who would resort to something so dangerous and reckless. He couldn’t help but think if this was in some way your method of coping, your method of healing from the breakup—was this your breakup formula, the inevitable course of action that you were supposed to take after he broke your heart?

“I ended up calling my other ex.” You laughed, somewhat bitterly, causing Tsukishima’s stomach to drop.

You were drunk, but you clearly knew who he was and where you were. You may have been a lightweight but somehow, he was impressed with how you were holding your liquor, Kei leaned down in front of you and just watched you, his eyes were surprisingly soft, his fingers dying to touch you—unafraid because he knew you would not remember these moments with him.

“I don’t want to tell you anything I’ll regret in the morning,” You whispered, causing his eyes to widen.

“What does that mean?” He asked, desperately, inching closer to you, but being sure to not make you uncomfortable.

You shook your head before blinking away tears that threatened to come your way. Tsukishima gaped, breathless, at how even intoxicated, you were the single most breathtaking person he had ever laid his eyes on.

“Please sleep.” He said, standing up, and leaving you in his room. He wasn’t going to fit on the couch, but there was no other option.

Even if his bed could fit the both of you, Kei would rather you sleep well and comfortably, than he would. Besides, he was sure that if he slept beside you (or even on the couch), he wouldn’t get to stay asleep for long either way.

When you wake up, you took a few seconds to bolt upwards, check your surroundings and then yourself. Your wallet, keys to your apartment, and your hair tie were on a table beside the bed, where a couple of aspirin and a water bottle was placed too. Getting up too fast was not good for you, your head spun around so sharply that you were inches away from puking.

“Where...?”

A moment later, you got up from the bed—after having taken the medicine and water, left there by god knows who, you inched your way to the living room of this strange person, wanting to thank them for sheltering you for the night. You felt shame hit your veins, you can’t believe you had done something like this—especially alone; and you could only wonder if a creep had sheltered you.

But, the person you saw on the couch was Tsukishima Kei, your ex-boyfriend from high school, struggling to stay asleep on the couch. Your heart broke at the sight of the tall boy, barely fitting into the couch, knowing full well that another step and he’ll wake up.

On odd days, you wondered why he broke up with you. On odd days, you missed him so much that you could cry. On days like today, your heart was barely fill and you were certain that a certain blond was the reason you craved doing reckless things—reckless because some part of you wished with all it had that he would come save you. He stirred awake, almost alerted by how you were just standing there, without making a sound.

When his eyes met yours, he scoffed rudely—as expected—before sitting up, and leaning his head against the headrest.

“Tsukishima—”

“I knew med students were crazy, but wow,” Your eyes widened at his words, “What the fuck, (l/n)?”

You had descended down to your last name with him, and the acknowledgement of it shattered your heart. You felt tears prick your eyes instantly, but you were not going to show any sort of weakness in front of him, not after last night—not after whatever could have happened.

“What happened last night?” You couldn’t bare the sound of your voice, at how groggy and hungover you sounded.

Tsukishima made it evident that he didn’t like it too, but chose to keep his words to himself.

“Nothing dirty happened, just you, throwing yourself into a depressing pit of alcohol drinking and embarrassing yourself.”

You frowned. There was no need for him to be plain mean about it. Sure, he had helped you, but that was it, right?

“Thanks for last night.” You wanted to ignore his words, you wanted to let it go and not fuel him into saying anything more.

“I won’t be surprised if this happens again, you know? Judging from how you’ve turned out—”

“Tsukishima!” You snapped, causing him to wince at his own words.

He didn’t dare look at you. He knew he had crossed the line, he knew he had said something to deliberately hurt you, and that had hurt you, but facing you would break him. What a coward, his mind scolded him, before he heard shuffling coming from where you stood.

“You see, I’m not surprised,” You said, pressing your lips together. “You were always this bitter.”

Tsukishima could hear your voice break. Way to go, he thought, you made her cry again. He gulped before attempting to turn to you, but he noticed that your back was facing him now—making him feel somewhat relieved, but scared at the same time.

I am so glad you’re okay, was what he wanted to say.

“No shit,” was what came out.

He noticed how your shoulders trembled now, as you reached down to grab your shoes. Tsukishima wanted to stand up and stop you, hold you in his embrace and beg for you to stay because if it were him, he’d not even dare give himself another chance—but you, you were forgiving and kind and gentle, all things that drove him up the wall yet made him fall so devastatingly in love with you.

Please don’t go, he wanted to say.

“Get out, (l/n),” was what came out.

You shook your head, “I can’t believe I’m like this because of you.”

Tsukishima felt the wind get knocked out of him, but before he could stop you, before he could find answers or any sort of confirmation at what you said, before he could even think of what was going on, unfortunately for him, he was frozen to where he stood and was forced to watch you leave.

He felt his fingers shake, and he looked down at his hands, which got blurrier and blurrier at each second, as he fought the urge to slap himself. Of course, he thought internally, if he was a mess of a human being, finding unhealthy coping mechanisms by trying to learn about what you were doing, stalking your social media, staring at pictures of you from Yamaguchi’s profile, reading his old chats with you, and everything that would perhaps never let him move on from you; then so were you.

He was the one who broke up with you, after all. If anything, you’d be the one in a much, much more difficult path.

Tsukishima did not go to class that day, and he missed practice. His captain called him multiple times, to which he merely replied saying he had the stomach bug—his captain was a lot like Kageyama, but for some reason, even he understood the importance of an optimum immune system and told Tsukishima he had to take the day off, no issues from that. Yamaguchi inquired about his sudden absence, but he merely said ‘I’m tired’ to him and left it at that.

But, oh boy, he was trying to call you, alright.

Tsukishima perhaps would have called you fifteen times in the last hour, with each of those calls ignored. After the barrage of calls, he left a barrage of messages, each asking you to pick up or call him back, suddenly forgetting the need to act as if he was high and mighty—no, if you were hurting as well, and he was hurting beyond belief, he had to fix it. A dialogue was the only thing that could put things back to normal, and hell be with Tsukishima keeping face. If this meant that he had to bow down and scream an apology, then so be it.

Hey. Pick up.

Hey. Call me.

Please, call me back.

Are you busy? Call me.

I know you’re ignoring me, call me back.

(y/n). Please. Call me.

What if this was an emergency? Call me, (y/n).

Tsukishima looked at his own messages and thought about what was wrong with him. After almost a year and a half of radio silence, here he was, literally begging for you to call him back after he had done something so fucking idiotic. He had a lot more to apologize for, he knew it, but he could only do so if you gave him that chance.

It was around 7 p.m., when you called back.

“(y/n)—”

“I had lab time, Tsukishima. What do you want?”

You were busy. You were perhaps so busy you couldn’t check your phone. Of course, you were studying to become a doctor. You weren’t ignoring him. Somehow, this fact resonated well with his heart. Even your ‘what do you want’ sounded more tired than angry, and he could hear the lag in your voice to confirm the same.

“I need to talk to you—”

“Well, you made it clear that you didn’t want anything to do with me earlier today.”

“Please,” He felt so out of character, but right then he didn’t care, “Let me see you.”

“I...” He heard you sigh deeply, “I can’t today, really. I missed lab work yesterday because... because of that stupid bar night, and now I have to make up for the lost time. I’ll probably be here studying all night.”

“Okay then.”

You were confused when he cut the call, but you assumed he was just tired of trying. You weren’t making an excuse; you stared at your phone, where just a moment ago your ex-boyfriend’s name was flashed up. You lick your lips and realize it’s been four hours since you had a sip of water. You clearly weren’t taking good care of yourself, and if Tsukishima was still with you, he’d reprimand you to no end.

Oh, you missed him.

You missed how he’d scold you for these reckless things you’d do. He knew about your habit of never drinking water, just surviving on licking your lips and sipping water after meals here and there. He hated that bit about you and he made it his personal responsibility to ensure you drank at least a bottle of water whenever he was around.

You missed the way he cared for you, so subtle yet loud—it resonated like his personality and you’d sometimes find yourself caring about your well-being because he cared; and even though the motivation here was incorrect, it brought the desired result regardless.

You missed him so much, it was like suddenly having lost a part of your body. It was as though you had lost an arm or leg but still instinctively reach out to feel your missing limb or try to walk again, placing your entire weight on something that was no longer there.

Swallowing the intense feelings you were experiencing, you buried yourself into the work you had ignored the previous evening and started to work. Medical school was exhausting even without the emotional baggage you managed to carry with you every single day.

What you expected would take you a couple of hours merely extended and you were in the lab till 2 a.m. Your eyelids were heavier than they had ever been before and you felt like your legs were jelly. You didn’t care about the way you looked right then, but you were certain that you looked half-dead. You couldn’t remember the last time you had eaten, and you noticed that the water bottle you had got for yourself earlier that day was still untouched.

Sighing, you grab your things and prepared to trek all the way home. A simple walk would feel like a trek, your feet felt like they were bleeding from the soles. However, the second you stepped out through the hospital exit (the college exit was closed), your footsteps came to a halt.

Tsukishima sat there, by the bench near the parking and your heart skipped a beat. What is he...?

He noticed movement from the side of his view and spotted you there. He instantly stood up, before realizing that you were busy (once again), of how you poured your all into everything that you cared about. This only made him wonder how much you had poured yourself into him.

“What are you doing here?”

You sounded so tired, it was so strange. He had never heard you sound almost defeated—he took one good look at you then; chapped lips, dark circles, disheveled hair; he knew you were dehydrated, hungry, exhausted and you had not once thought of these things.

“I’m hungry.”

You blink and sigh, “Tsukishima, I’ve had a long—”

“Please, come with me.”

You’ve never heard him say please so many times in one day. Your heart is weak for him still, and you follow him to the nearest 7 Eleven. You were wearing your white coat, a purple full sleeved top and the same jeans you were last night. You looked to find him wearing exactly what he was wearing that morning when you saw him, the black full sleeve tee, brown jacket and blue jeans. No matter what he wore, he always managed to look so devastatingly beautiful.

“Eat something.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue with him, you bought a sandwich for yourself and he got some ramen (for some reason, he chose your favorite flavor), and the two of you went out to sit by a park bench, isolated from the world. Your apartment was merely a five-minute walk from where you were, but that didn’t matter right then.

“You obviously still like me.” He said, somehow his voice not condescending or witty.

“Obviously.” You admit, because you were too tired to argue.

You heard him chuckle, but you were busy eating your sandwich, the bottle of water beside you suddenly looked like the most tempting thing in the world. What you missed was how Tsukishima’s hands were trembling as he linked them together in front of him, leaning forward on where he sat.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” You say, realizing the sandwich did nothing to quench your hunger.

“I know.” He sounded so defeated, before turning to you and handing you the cup ramen.

I knew he was going to do this, you thought, tears pricking your eyes. He bought your favorite flavor because he knew.

Tsukki, you took the cup ramen without hesitation, you can’t do this to me.

“Why,” You stared at the cup ramen, “Why can’t you just tell me what’s on your mind?”

You heard no response from him. You took exactly two sips from the water bottle and dug into the cup ramen. But you stopped eating midway, shaking your head.

“Kei,” You jumped to third year high school again, “Please, I can’t... I will leave if you don’t stop me.”

There was no attempt made. You turned to see him staring at the ground, emotionlessly. You couldn’t decipher what you were feeling, but you certainly couldn’t try to decipher what he was feeling either. His silence left you breathless, all of a sudden you want to cry and scream, you wonder what you did wrong, you wonder what happened—why was he the way he was? Did you make him mistrust you in anyway?

A sob exited your mouth, but your trembling lips capture the rest.

However, Tsukishima Kei’s trembling hands raised to his face and he cried; your eyes widening at his sudden reveal. You quickly place the cup ramen to your side and turn to face him, your sweet boy, the boy you had so willingly given your heart to, crying his heart out, sobs ugly, tears streaking down his gorgeous face. The sight kills you.

“It’s so fucking hard to see you happy,”

You’re confused, but you knew he didn’t mean the words to their exact meaning. There had to be something else. He didn’t want you to be happy? What the fuck?

“And I’m not there...”

Ah.

“You... You don’t need me and that kills me...”

You were quick to kneel down in front of him, your fingers trembling, your knee trembling, your legs quivering, but your heart was strong enough. All you needed right now was your heart.

“I don’t need you,” Your voice was a whisper only he could hear.

Kei rolled his eyes, and you noticed how wet they were from the crying. Your right hand wiped some of the tears from his face before you took a breath.

“But I want you. Always, always you.”

It was Kei’s turn to meet your gaze. You were staring at him, a soft smile on your features.

Why was it that it was always you who would assure him when things were wrong? Why was it that you were always saving him? Either from a misunderstanding, a fight or most often, from himself?

He felt so weak when he was around you. He didn’t know if it was a curse or a blessing.

“No one compares to you. And as bad as that sounds, I couldn’t stop thinking of you, no matter who I’m with. No one compares to your brash, asshole self.”

You let out a giggle and notice how wide his eyes were. You want to kiss him, but you hold back.

“I love you so much, but it’s hard, Kei... It’s hard if you don’t give me bit of an edge, you know?”

Your hand which was on his face, Kei suddenly took it and kissed the back of it, surprising you.

“I love you,” He kisses it again, “I am so in love with you.”

You could only smile. You leaned forward, before pressing your lips to his; Tsukishima could feel how chapped your lips were, but that didn’t stop him from kissing you back fervently. His hand rushed to the side of your face, before pressing you to him, not hard enough that you fall down—he was painfully aware of how tired you were. He pulled away before pecking your lips a few times, kissing below your lower lip and staring at you, lovingly.

“All of this pain could have been avoided if you just accepted what you were feeling, you know that right?”

You were right.

You were always right when it came to him, no one knew him as well as you did. You knew every inch of his soul because it belonged to you, and there was no taking back. And while he was aware that he had to work on some aspects of himself, Kei suddenly felt confident. Looking at you, kneeling in front of him like that, despite how tired you were, despite how shitty of a day it had been, he was sure that with you, he could do anything.

Suddenly, his mind travelled back to your desk in class 3-4, with the inscription that he could not stop touching back on the day of your graduation.

kei + y/n

A simple jumble of words. Enough to break his heart, or make it. He wondered if he’ll ever tell you he created a small forever for the both of you in that classroom.

Well, he thought, forcing you to drink water, Maybe someday.

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kei #tsukishima #tsukki #tsukki x reader #reader insert #yamaguchi #sandai frogs #kei tsukishima x reader #karasuno #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima angst #tsukishima fluff #angst to fluff

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barnesandco · 4 years ago

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Eat the Rich: Chapter 1

Eat the Rich Masterlist

The Avengers are tasked with tracking down an elusive thief, and retrieving the grand amounts of money she has stolen. Even after capture, she turns out to be impossible to break, save for a mystifying interest in Bucky.

Written for @mermaidxatxheart ‘s #jamiesmadwritingbash, under the Robin Hood AU prompt, with the dialogue prompt “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing, running around with the end of the world on her his arm?” in bold in this chapter.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: mentions of nightmares, memory loss and recovery, brief mentions of Bucky’s Winter Soldier days, and canon-level violence. Lots of frustrated Avengers. A bit of flirting.

A/N: I can’t decide if I want this series to make people laugh or cry, so good luck. Please comment and reblog!

Divider by the fantastically talented @whimsicalrogers!

The Avengers are confused. Perplexed and far out of their depths, they’re strewed about the meeting room with variants of displeasure on their faces. Bucky wears the biggest scowl of all, sitting ramrod straight in an armchair intended for postures far more comfortable. The source of their malcontent hovers in a hologram above the conference table, somehow managing to look bored while handcuffed and bound to a steel chair in the most secure interrogation room in the Compound.

You’re a thief. A crook who has been stealing big money from bigger people, in a slew of prominent heists that eventually led to the Avengers’ recruitment to your case. High stakes burglary isn’t their field, but when certain people threw their weight around, demanding a serious investigation, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes had no choice but to play detectives to one elusive criminal.

A flirtatious one, too, Bucky thinks, remembering your first confrontation, as he traces the seams of his metal arm with the softer pads of his flesh fingers.

Sam, Nat, and Bucky had tracked you all the way to Paris, where, one night, Sam gave chase while Bucky waited to intercept you on the predicted escape route, in an alley behind one of the classiest bars in town. Their prediction had proved accurate, and you had pretty much run straight into Bucky’s waiting arms.

The ensuing fight should have been an easy one, and Bucky made the awful mistake -- the mistake he hadn’t made since meeting the Widows in the Red Room -- of underestimating a woman, and he ended up paying for it.

His fists clench in his lap at the memory of how you had pulled a very Widow move on him, and he had wound up on his back with your thighs around his neck in a chokehold almost gentle. You had leaned over him to tie his hands together, and left him panting, out of breath, and with the taste of rust in his mouth. Clambering off, and wiping away the blood at the corner of his lip, you had then said, “I look forward to our rematch, handsome,” before disappearing into the dark, French night.

“Barnes?” He hears Stark call, and he blinks. “You still with us, or are you daydreaming about your girlfriend?” The room grows silent, and Bucky can sense suppressed smiles and silent glares, the latter aimed at Stark from Steve.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he grouses, letting his metal fingers dig into his kneecaps.

Sam, coffee abandoned on the table in front of him, eyes twinkling says, “We heard her through the coms, Barnes. In Paris, and in Buenos Aires.”

“And Oslo,” Peter pipes up, and Bucky falls back into the memory of autumn frost crunching under his feet, the reverberations of the orchestra in the opera house as he followed your coat-tails -- you played violin, because why the hell not -- down the busy street. Power-walking turned to running, and you had ended up in a crowded, posh bar with Bucky backing you into the wall in the hallway leading to the restrooms, holding your hands in one metal fist behind you.

Still, you had been unperturbed, trying to distract him with gemstone eyes while he called backup -- Stark, soaring in stealth mode above the fjord. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing, running around with the end of the world on his arm?” You had asked, gesturing toward his metal shoulder, no struggle, no flight or fight.

Red-lipped smiles, you had given him, and he had been so close to pulling out the handcuffs until a trio of burly security guards had appeared, your backup, apparently, and engaged him in enough combat to allow you to escape.

“She seems to like you,” Sam finishes piercing the haze of another battle lost, less violently at least, and Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like her,” is the best he can come up with, and he stands, moves towards a window overlooking the grounds, addressing the bulletproof glass, next. “What I would like is for us to get the money back so we can all go on our merry way and pretend this ever happened.”

The room falls quiet at that. Every person here is acutely aware of the fact that they’re no closer to getting the money back -- nobody could ever spend the amounts you’ve stolen recently, so quickly; FRIDAY’s run simulations on it -- and you haven’t budged under the interrogations you’ve faced thus far.

Barton enters the room as soon as he gets off the quinjet, still in his typical Bed Stuy uniform -- ripped jeans and purple t-shirt -- and Bucky, alongside Natasha and Sam in the observation room behind the one way glass, can see the angle he’s going with.

It’s almost cliché, or maybe it’s just Clint, so relaxed and loose-limbed with too much pizza in his system and likely smelling of one-eyed dog -- Bucky adores Lucky, but he’ll never admit it -- the way he turns his chair around and sits, resting his chin on folded arms atop the back of the chair.

For a moment, Bucky worries he’s fallen asleep right there, until his blond head lifts ever so slightly and he says, “Would you like something to drink?”

You quirks a smile. “I’d like a proper introduction. What, were you raised in a barn?” The smirk is teasing, but there’s no bite, like you’re greeting an old friend with an inside joke. Barton traces the edge of the table.

“Almost. Ever heard of Waverly, Iowa?” He asks.

You shake your head, and then, grin, informing, “No, but I have heard of you, Clint Barton.”

“So you didn’t need an introduction.”

“I’m a prankster, can’t you tell?” Bucky thinks of the navy blue dress in Prague, the tiny but powerful stink bombs you had kept in a thigh holster, how you had left them coughing.

“Jokes are all well and good but, uh, stealing isn’t so funny,” Clint answers., sitting up, and Bucky can hear in his hardening tone that he’s starting to get serious.

“Depends on who you’re stealing from,” is your flippant response.

“Also depends on who has to get the money back, too, and let me tell you, we’re a little tired of playing games.”

“Then I guess I win, right?”

“Are you sure you don’t recognize her? Her tactics seem familiar,” Sam says, and the sensation that has been aggravating the nerves in an unlocatable part of his brain since he saw her for the first time worsens, but Sam’s question is addressed to Nat.

“She’s not Red Room, if that’s what you mean. The Widows were trained to be merciless. She avoids getting more physical than she needs to,” Natasha answers, retying the band on her braid, flaming red hair coiled over her shoulder.

“She broke Bucky’s nose,” Steve points out in protest.

Nat shrugs, leans forward to doodle on the notepad resting on her knee. “If it was me, I might have knocked some teeth out. Maybe pulled a knife or garrotte.”

“You have to tell me where you get those sting-y things,” you say the moment Nat enters the room, eyes sparkling and wide with awe. Bucky winces as he remembers the short-circuit from that little electric disc. The engineers in the bank had been pretty troubled by the thought of what could’ve caused that kind of damage to the internal systems, until he his fist around one of their necks gave them something else to worry ab--

Steve’s hand on his shoulder startles him back to the observation room instead of Hydra’s clutches, and he says, “Hey, Bucky, how’s it going?” with a nod to the room in front of them. Vibranium cuffs peek out from under the large, green hoodie that envelopes your form, making you look deceptively soft.

“She wants to know where Nat gets her taser discs.”

“You’re eager for those even after you’ve felt how much they hurt?” Nat asks calmly, and Bucky imagines an ice-cool smirk on her lips as she reminds you of how exactly you were captured. It was the tasers that brought you down, after Sam, Steve and Bucky flew and ran you to exhaustion through the streets of Algiers, costing Stark some collateral payments. He hadn’t minded too much, just been happy to have you in custody, finally.

“They look like they’d be fun to use. Pretty handy around certain metal armed men, too,” you suggest playfully.

“Yeah, he isn’t going to talk to you, but I’ve been looking forward to this chat of ours, so why don’t you start by telling me your name.”

“I don’t have one. I’m a ghost story,” you say, and Bucky assumes Nat is looking unimpressed, because you press forward with the joke. “You’re going to need a medium to talk to me.”

“And where do you suppose I find one of those?”

“You have one. Isn’t Bucky Barnes a ghost story, too?”

Sam’s about to name what is sure to be another way to cause unnecessary injury when Bucky butts in. “It doesn’t matter how she hurt me or how she could have hurt me,” this, with a glare at Natasha, who smiles down at the paper. “We have a burglar with billions stashed away and a buncha angry billionaires breathin’ down our necks to find it.”

“Well why don’t you give it a go if you think it’s so easy?” Looking up from the hangman sketch, Nat fixes emerald eyes on his, reminding him, once again, of the unusual interest you’ve taken in Bucky. One that started with mid-battle conversations of a different nature, and that has extended into custody. Something that’s been bugging Steve, his protective instinct whirring into overdrive -- Bucky sees his eye twitch from across the room at Nat’s remark -- no more so than during Steve’s turn to question the captive.

“You guys are all taking your turns playing Good Cop Bad Cop, but I haven’t seen Robocop yet. Why is that?”

“You left him tied up in Paris–”

“There’s an innuendo in there somewhere,” you sing-song, head tilting rhythmically from side to side. Bucky clenches his fists in the observation room.

“–so he isn’t much obliged to see you,” Steve finishes, bypassing your interruption.

Playful eyes with laser determination, unperturbed by locked rooms and handcuffs, focus on a spot just above Steve’s shoulder, almost looking through the glass, even though Bucky knows it’s just a mirror for you. “What a shame. I was hoping our little back alley tussle wouldn’t scare the big, bad White Wolf away.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Are you going to tell us where the money is or do you want formal charges and a jail cell?” He asks, shifting so he blocks your line of sight, folds his hands on the table, and broadens his shoulders, all-Captain and no-nonsense.

“Giving up on me so easy?”

“I wouldn’t call it easy, miss. We’ve been looking for months and tried just about everything to get you to cooperate.”

“Not everything.”

“She’s yawning,” Sam proclaims indignantly, glaring, shocked, at the hologram where indeed, the source of their troubles is yawning, like you could fall asleep, tied up and all. “Unbelievable.” He shakes his head, and Bucky stops a snort from escaping. He’s seen all kinds of interrogations, faced a fair few, too, and this woman is just warming up.

The ensuing discussion and debate continues for hours, until the sun sets behind the window Bucky’s standing by, and what silences them is the thump with which Clint puts his hearing aids on the table in front of him. Sam’s coffee wobbles dangerously, and everyone sighs as Clint wordlessly tells them to shut up. Murmurs of agreement to rest and get a fresh start tomorrow echo through the room, and Bucky catches Barton’s eye, and receives a wink.

Later that night, in his room, Bucky knows he’s not going to get a minute of sleep. It’s just an intuition, something his very bones are telling him, and he sees no reason to dispute it. Under the throbbing ache in his head, there’s an itch in the grey matter of his mind, somewhere he can’t reach, and he twists and turns. The feeling is recognizable as the vexation inflicted when he’s on the verge of a memory, but those return either by dream or by sense these days.

Dreams are for the bad memories, the days of the Winter Soldier, his subconscious loosening whatever locks his mind placed to compartmentalize the pain, to stuff it all away. The nightmares, the terrible memories leave him shaking, but therapy helps. By a few percent, but when the load of pain is as heavy as his is, every small burden taken off his shoulder helps.

Sense brings back the time before Hydra, although it’s sometimes hard to believe there was one. Steve’s face buried in his shoulder, be careful, Buck; Romanian take out, his mother’s hands; faucet dripping, water running out; oranges exploding on his tongue, a month’s salary plus overtime from working at the docks for that sweet rush once a year. The Depression, the first war -- trench memory brought back by a rainy run in Central Park, the scent of muddy petrichor in the air -- snowfall in the Alps, Dugan’s cigar. His body remembers, and then shows his mind the way.

However, this, this infuriating personality that has him incensed and restless, she isn’t in his mind in any capacity, but Bucky thinks he knows her. Or that he might have, once. And he needs to know her, again, because he hates not knowing. The nightmares hurt, and the memories of what he’s lost do, as well, but not knowing, existing in the strange limbo between certainty and loss, it’s unbearable. If this woman knows him, if she’s another key to another past, another piece of him, he has to talk to her.

“FRIDAY?” He asks groggily, sitting up.

The screen in the wall across from him blinks blue in acknowledgement, along with a “Yes, sir?”

“Is Steve up?”

“Captain Rogers is awake and having a cup of coffee in the kitchen, Sergeant,” FRIDAY tells him, and Bucky curses at the idiocy of consuming caffeine at this hour of night -- whatever’s in that shit works even on the serum and that can’t be good -- replacing his sweatpants with jeans once more and heading out to find his friend.

Steve has his back to the entryway, deep in thought -- dumbass, anyone could sneak up on you like this -- when Bucky comes in and clears his throat. The mug in Steve’s hands looks comically small, and Bucky sits down across from him at the island, reaches forward to take it from him, and downs the remaining half.

It’s just one more testament to how disturbed Steve is -- as if the careless consumption of coffee at midnight wasn’t enough -- that he lets Bucky steal his coffee. Blue meets blue in the silver dusting of moonlight, and Steve tries to locate Bucky’s purpose in his eyes before asking him for it verbally. “What is it, Buck?” He’s tired, too many missions weighing on those eyelids, but too worked up to let them close, to find rest. What Bucky’s going to say won’t help.

“Let me talk to her.”

#ayesha writes #jamiesmadwritingbash #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you

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starsbythepocketful12 · 4 years ago

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headcanons cause i’m in flarrie hours

they are THE couple when it comes to halloween costumes

all their outfits for big events (parties, gigs where dirty candy and/or jatp perform) are coordinated

carrie my femme queen & flynn my nonbinary lesbian darling

go to protests & marches together

flynn lends carrie books by her favorite Black female authors & carrie lends her books by her favorite sapphic poets

they make playlists about each other but the other doesn’t know they do it (julie & kayla are the only ones permitted to know of the existence of these playlists & have been sworn to secrecy, though julie has a strong suspicion carrie also makes playlists about flynn and vice versa)

have a joint pinterest account for their wedding moodboard

carrie adopted a tiger cub and named it flynn for their three month anniversary

they go to the mall together every other weekend and shop, which they both love to do and when they get home they always model the new outfits they bought

flynn squeals every time they see a dog in public and always runs over and asks if they can pet it and carrie always watches her with such a fond look that the owner almost always makes a comment on what a lovely couple they are or asks how long they’ve been together (something that has actually been happening since even before they were dating, and back then you can imagine the flustered ness it caused)

flynn often comes to watch dirty candy rehearsals, cheer them on, make sure they’re staying hydrated/taking snack breaks and that carrie’s not overworking herself

carrie is the first person that flynn tells she wants to DJ professionally and carrie gets her her first gig

eventually flynn gets into producing as well and ends up making a track for carrie, who writes lyrics to it and it becomes dirty candy’s most successful song to date

carrie says i love you first one saturday afternoon while they’re watching a movie on flynn’s computer in her room. flynn laughs at a joke and carrie looks over at her, her beautiful, incredible girlfriend, and simply can’t resist the urge to say it

flynn’s shocked into silence so carrie panics and leaves and doesn’t answer flynn’s messages

that night flynn shows up at the wilson mansion and throws rocks at carrie’s window until she comes out

flynn is upset with carrie for running out and ghosting her and carrie’s trying to defend herself so they argue but then flynn interrupts carrie by kissing her and breathlessly saying, “i love you.” carrie kisses her and not another word on it is said

carrie steals flynn’s hats

they’re not really PDA-y, they just happen to engage in a lot of unconscious, casual affection, like flynn often absentmindedly intertwines their pinkies and carrie doesn’t realize her arm is around flynn’s shoulders until she’s doing it

even after months of dating will still flirt like they’re in their enemies who are secretly very attracted to e/o era

flynn really loves art, particularly murals, so she drags carrie to a lot of gallery openings and museums

at one point when flynn’s going through a hard time carrie enlists all their friends for help making a giant mural full of drawings of things that make her happy

flynn happy cries when she sees it and is pretty much always seen hugging carrie for the rest of that night

only really cuddle when one (or both) of them is sleepy, though flynn does often sit on carrie’s lap

before starting to date, carrie would tease flynn for having stuffed animals during their sleepovers at flynn’s until they started dating and flynn started spending more time at carrie’s and flynn discovers that her girlfriend’s a little hypocrite

flynn has a younger sister and brother (sister is six, brother is four) and they absolutely ADORE carrie and think she’s the coolest and carrie thinks they’re the cutest

flynn’s like no they’re little demons and carrie’s says who says demons can’t be cute? you once called me a demon right, and im cute, aren’t i? and flynn rolls her eyes and fights back a smile

flynn also has a college aged older sister who she looks up to a lot, like that’s her hero and absolute role model, so naturally carrie’s terrified to meet her, and though she tries to appear intimidating at first, she can’t keep up the act for long and starts being friendly with carrie pretty much right away

one day they’re supposed to go on a date but carrie’s sick and forgot to text flynn telling her not to come so flynn shows up at her house but stays anyway to look after her

flynn reads to her and makes her soup

trevor & flynn play video games while carrie naps

flynn makes jewelry in her free time and consults carrie for her thoughts on every piece (in junior year she starts selling them at school & turns out to be quite the entrepreneur)

they have an inside joke about cosmo and wanda

a couple of the dirty candy members sometimes jokingly flirt with flynn and are like “watch out! we’re gonna steal your girl!” and carrie gets possessive and apologizes for it pretty quickly but flynn thinks it’s hot so it works out pretty well

will watch bad rom coms to make fun of straight people and throw popcorn at the screen when they get together

pet/nick names: care, baby, babe, love, (from carrie to flynn who shuts down upon hearing it) honey, (flynn to carrie, who becomes very giddy the first time flynn says it in a text message) sweetheart

if you couldn’t tell before they ofc have an enemies to friends to lovers arc

move in together after graduating, neither planning on going to college (julie goes to berkeley and nick some other place in california where they have lacrosse cause that’s the sport he plays right) and their parents think it’ll be a disaster but it actually goes really well

the first couple of weeks they fight more, all petty arguments mostly out of the stress of moving, but they always talk it out

it doesn’t take long for them to be happy they’re living together and feel really glad they took that step

two years after graduating flynn gives her a promise ring

carrie cries her eyes out and replies “of fucking course, you dumb fuck” when flynn asks if she’ll take it

ten years later carrie’s a successful pop star/choreographer & flynn’s a record breaking producer/DJ and they’re about to buy a house when they realize they never got married

it’s just a moment where they’re relaxing together on the couch and suddenly are like. oh

and proceed to burst out laughing

it’s a small ceremony, thrown together in just three weeks

carrie wears a short, light pink dress with a heart cutout in the back that would probably be more suited for a high school sophomore’s spring fling but no one cares

flynn wears a suit, and is walked down the aisle by her older sister

they both tear up upon seeing each other and sob through the vows (the traditional pre written ones, they wrote vows for each other but they recite them to the other when they’re alone, so it’s something special only they can share)

julie & kayla are the maids of honor, nick and alex are the best men

julie & luke’s five year old hernando is the ring bearer & alex and willie’s three year old umi is the flower child

trevor, flynn’s older sister and parents cry

even flynn’s now teenage younger siblings, who as of late have often been stereotypically cynical and moody shed tears

jatp perform at the reception (they have also become a hit band at this point)

when they get back from the honeymoon the first thing they do is get a dog

they adopt a golden doodle rescue named stella

a couple years later they start talking about kids and look into getting a sperm donor

because they love being competitive they do little games to decide who will be the one to carry the baby

it’s all jokes though, they decided at the start of the process that it would be flynn for the first kid and carrie for the second

but then SURPRISE flynn has twins

a boy and a girl named tyler and ollie (who’s who i won’t tell you cause fuck gender)

they don’t even talk about carrie getting pregnant now cause they’re busy with the babies and trying to manage their careers but one night, when the kids are eight, and flynn has just flopped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh after putting them to bed, carrie puts down her kindle and quietly says that she wants another kid.

they talk for hours because while flynn wants another kid too, when you’re both celebrities with demanding jobs and people constantly trying to peer into your life, that decision involves even more factors

they decide to have another kid and carrie chooses to take a step back from her career for now-she’ll return to it eventually but for now she wants to be able to just be a parent without worrying about work and not have to deal with the guilt that comes with working when she feels like she should be being a parent

though the kids have always been their main priority and they have done quite well dividing their time between work and being with them, and have done decently shielding them from the public eye (majority of the pictures of ollie & tyler that the public has are blurry candids, and the few high quality ones are from when they were three and they no longer look like that anyway so it’s all good)

it’s a harder process for carrie to get pregnant as she’s almost 40 and flynn was 31 when she had tyler and ollie

but it happens though they’re careful about choosing the sperm donor-even briefly consider asking reggie or nick-because with this kind of thing there’s always the risk that other parent could track down where their kid ended up and want to be a part of that kid’s life later on which is uber complicated for many reasons so they get those scary possibilities out of the way by just finding someone who they know wants to be in the child’s life

preston choi, a thai & korean american mathematics professor ends up being their guy

he’s immensely genuine, sweet, respectful, polite, and gentlemanly

when he came out at fifteen his parents kicked him out of the house

it was a long and difficult journey but they’re in a decent place now

but it’s not the family he wants to have and he’s tried but has yet to find a partner

but doesn’t want to wait to have kids so here he is, more than happy to co parent with flynn and carrie

so that’s what they do! tyler and ollie become big siblings to miles wilson-choi on december 10th, 2044

miles grows up in the most multicultural home ever, being fluent in 4 languages (English, AAVE, Spanish thanks to their tia julie, Korean, and Thai) all their life

tyler & ollie welcome preston and miles into the family with open arms, as well as the addition of korean and thai cuisine to the already amazing dinner tables they had of soul and caribbean food

when miles is seven carrie goes back to work full time, with preston’s assurance that he’s got this when her and flynn are busy and tyler and ollie (who are now fifteen) promising they’ll help out as well

at that point the long awaited julie and the phantoms/carrie and flynn wilson collaboration FINALLY happens

flynn wins her 28th grammy for it, leaving her tied with beyoncé for most grammys won by any woman ever (its julie’s 14th, luke’s 6th, and carrie’s 12th, and the band’s collective 10th cause alex never did any solo projects and reggie released one country album but it didn’t win any grammys rip though it was nominated for 2 CMAs)

#whew this got away from me #im sorry idk why this ended up being so long #like i legitimately apologize #idk what happened #long post #jatp #julie and the phantoms #flynn jatp #carrie wilson #carrie jatp #flarrie #flarrie jatp #headcanons

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squarefriend · 4 years ago

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Alrighty how about 14 with Mettaton and 9 with Toriel?

This is a long ass post, so buckle up buttercups >:)

So, if you really think about it, Mettaton IS a robot now. He fused with his body, considering he can die in Stabby Stabby/Nuetral routes. Robots can’t absorb alcohol, therefore they can’t get drunk.

Now, the argument could be made that he just absorbs the magic that makes up the drink then sends it to his power core, like an organic body. The that funky drunky flow intoxicates him.... But that also contradicts my personal head cannons on how Metta’s body works.

I’ll make this brief (if that’s possible in a post of this length lMAO), but how I think that MTT gets his power is either through electricity or, in a worst case scenario, gasoline mixed with magic. While I believe he can eat and drink monster food, it’s stored in an internal compartment before being broken down into manageable magic chunks over a series of several days. So, alcoholic beverages would give him at most a buzz over the course of like a couple of days.

That being said, there’s hope!!!

Remember when I said that I headcannon Metta runs on gasoline if he can’t get any electricity? Well, the means he can switch between which tank he’s drawing from. And, there is a type of gasoline made with a base of Ethanol! Which is the compound used to make drinks alcoholic! Therefore, the alcohol would be going to his core at the rate needed to actually get drunk.

Which means, if he wants to be drunk he can just switch into gasoline mode and slip into whatever tipsy needs he has! As long as he’s filled up on ethanol!

Now I’m not saying that this was found out by complete accident with Alphys testing out a new fuel type but.....

That’s exactly what I’m saying.

But!!! Yall didn’t come here to hear about Mettaton’s autonomy, so let’s talk about his drunken habits!!

I like to think he doesn’t drink often, mostly because of the aforementioned not actually realizing he could till he was on the surface. But, some of the best examples of how he is in a drunken state would probably be back when he was a ghost.

It was probably some rough times back then. Shyren’s sister had just fallen down, and it’s inplied the cousins are rather close with the family. Add in a healthy dose of dysphoria and yearning for a greater audience- no, purpose... It must’ve been rough for Metta.

Mabey to cope, the cousins invested in some ghost ale?

I like to think when buzzed, Mettaton is just a (somehow) more confident and showy version of himself. Just with less motor control and a higher chance of making impulsive decisions.

Once we pass into drunk territory... things start getting more emotional. There will be tears. Probably a lot of them. He’s very emotional and can and will state his mind. Heartfelt confessions might happen, rivalries may happen, or he may just tell you what you already know.

If the cousins cracked open a cold one.... Well.... That may of been the first indications (aside from behavior they’d picked up but not said anything about) of what was really on Metta’s mind. About how desperate he was.

Metta didn’t remember it in the morning. Blookie never told him what they talked about. It was never spoken of again.

Ok!! On a slightly higher note: Toriel!

I’ve always seen Toriel as having a very smooth sounding, mezzo soprano voice. It’s nothing remarkable. She doesn’t belt often, she doesn’t have much of a verbrato, she just sounds like your normal 50ish woman who sings abit too much in the car. But, her voice is warm and soft and perfect to fall asleep too, especially when a smile gets in the way of her vowels.

She sings fairly often, probably the most in the main cast (aside Mettaton and MABEY Papyrus). Be it in the car, or when she has too much to drink, or when singing a lullaby to her kids.

I’ll start with lullabies since I believe they’d be the most personal to her.

We don’t know exactly when the monster human war happened, but I’m of the belief that it happened sometime in the Middle Ages, which would place Toriel’s childhood in medieval times. While she wasn’t born there, I also think both Toriel and Asgore’s families hail from Ireland. Her mother would sing to her every night, sometimes mixing in ancient tales of wild beasts and faeries.

It’s a sentiment she’s passed down to her own children.

Albeit, she changed a few lyrics or scenes in the stories to make them less terrifying, besides when she was caring for some of the older souls. There may also be a touch more happy endings than there were in the older days, and mabey a couple more injuries instead of deaths. But for the most part, they stay the same.

The pieces she dare not change though, are the ones she sings in Gaelic.

Frisk hasn’t learned the language (yet), so Toriel finds no need to change any details to such relics. Plus, they have a lot more of an emotional connection than most of her other songs or stories. Her eldest two children were incredibly fond of them

(Also the song I used for these doodles is called Bó na leath-adhairce (One Horned Cow). The woman who sings it (Muireann Nic Amhlaoibh) sounds a lot like how I imagine Toriel sounding. But like. With a lot more vocal training. She still sounds like she’s singing through a smile and I love it)

On a much more fun note, let’s talk about Toriel’s drinking songs!

So, this doesn’t happen often, but if the moods right and Toriel’s had JUST enough to drink.... She might attempt to start up a drinking song with whatever crowd she’s got around her. She doesn’t know many songs, and she only half remembers the rest, but goddamn it if she’s not gonna try it.

It’s awful. Any recognizable lyrics are either slurred, butchered, or in a language no one else can understand.

But she looks like she’s having so much fun, no one ever tries to stop her.

Hell, some people might even join in, if there’s been enough to drink in the house. If that happens, and if she’s feeling confident enough, Tori might even get up and dance a little bit, dragging whomever she pleases in as well. If she’s drunk enough to start singing like this in public, then she’s definitely drunk enough to do some dances.

Mostly though, she just sticks to lullabies.

As for the second part of this prompt, it’s a lot simpler than all of the rest of this post. Toriel enjoys most music, especially the choral verity. She’ll let anything on the radio, so long as it’s appropriate when Frisk’s in the car.

Her favorite genres though, are Classical, Folk, and Celtic. They were the styles she grew up with and remains fond of to this day. They bring back a feeling of Nostalgia without too many memories, just how she likes it. She also quite enjoys Operas, and plans on taking Frisk to see one once she gets the hang of the internet.

She used to adore ballroom music and waltzes but....

Now they just bring back Memories she’d rather not have.

#Undertale #Mettaton #Toriel #Sorry this took so long #It deleted and I had to retype the entire thing lMAO #Also these challenges and analysis are making me grow even more of a fasination with mechanics #First it was trying to figure out how the ruins puzzles functioned #Now it’s MTTs autonomy #Y’all are gonna make me become an engineer instead of a biologist #Anyway #you can rip the head cannon that Toriel (and Asgore) speaks Irish Gaelic from my cold dead hands #askbox

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ladynyctophilia · 4 years ago

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Avoiding Red

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Mature Themes

Pairings: Vivienne Tang x MC (Rozario)

With the heist gone wrong, it all felt like a dream. I fell off of the helicopter with guns pointed at me in every direction, but somehow I was still shoved into an ambulance and rushed to a hospital for surgery.

At this point, I didn't know the difference between fantasy and reality. There was even this one night where I thought Vivienne was at the hospital with me, kissing my hand, but I knew that wasn't true. The Poppy should be laying low by now, probably in another country after all that heat we attracted in Paris. Again.

I've been left with nothing but questions. Did I really join The Gilded Poppy? Was Vivienne Tang real? Or was I just waking up from a coma? However, whenever I moved, the gunshot wound on my lower abdomen, and the breaks in my ribs told me otherwise. My heart ached.

This is real.

And every night I had to relive those same events in my dreams, but in my dreams I died on that rooftop.

However, my thoughts were interrupted by the clicking of my room door opening. The nurse was probably back with this morning's pain medication.

More pills to shove down my throat. Yay.

But to my surprise, it wasn't the nurse, and I could feel my heart quickening as a short man dressed in a well-tailored suit that complemented his sun-kissed features entered the room. I tensed, ignoring the pain from my wound. This man wasn't a doctor or a nurse, and he didn't look lost either. That could only mean one thing. He stared at me, and I stared at him, but none of us gestured to speak. The man's hair was black as a starless night, even darker than Vivienne's, but his eyes were full of warmth. The green of his eyes reminded me of the emerald eyes of Vivienne's serpent ring, but unlike the color of envy, his gaze felt safe, and not like the cunning nature of the thieves and criminals I was acquainted with. I sighed.

Vivienne...

However, a glint of light brought my attention to his chest, where a badge rested, flashing with justice. I didn't think about the police or anything like that when I was here. When I could think straight…

Ha. Straight.

Shut up, Rozario.

...all I thought about was Vivienne and the look on her face when I let go. Did she really poison me? My heart wanted to deny any suspicion of betrayal in Vivienne, but my head knew better. Vivienne did have a past of lying and running away. She was a criminal after all, and I've been burned before.

" Rozario Inmaculada Cruz," the man finally announced, waiting for my reaction.

I winced at my full name that was weighed down by tradition and religion and stained by the memory of my father's stern voice, but other than that, he was getting no reaction out of me, and my eyes quickly narrowed.

Excellent detective skills, Jimbo, you know my name.

I didn't reply. To my surprise, his voice wasn't French; it was American, with a hint of something familiar. Very familiar. Spanish, but not from Spain. He was familiar to me, like a ghost.

Sus. I was growing suspicious, but that didn't help the squeeze of anxiety in my guts. Technically, I was in France legally; I just wasn't doing legal things...my situation suddenly dawned on me. I was going back to America in chains and would probably be locked up for the rest of my life. I was terrified. Before it could begin, my life was over. I will never-

"Rozario," the man's deep voice called to me again," you don't have to talk," he hummed, with a hand scratching the stubble underneath his chin thoughtfully. A habit whenever he was thinking most likely. "Just pay attention, I don't have a lot of time here, and neither do you." I'm assuming that the detective was a very patient and reserved man, but my eyes lingered on his antique, probably handcrafted watch.

Damn. I really have spent too much time around thieves.

The detective noticed and cleared his throat, pulling down his sleeve." Rozario, I'm going to be blunt with you, you're fucked," he said with a shrug, taking off his glasses as if to see me better. "No matter what you do or say, you will end up in the slammer, but," he held up a finger, checking to see if I was still paying attention. "The number of years can be significantly reduced if you cooperate and help the French government and I catch these so-called members of The Gilded Poppy," the detective got right to the point with a casualness that I didn't associate cops with. It was like he didn't care, whatever my answer was, but there was a gleam in his pale eyes that told otherwise.

He had a lousy poker face. Remy taught me the signs. I wanted to be stern, I wanted to be hard and cold, with no emotion, but there was a ball growing in my throat that I couldn't swallow. I was scared, but I couldn't give The Gilded Poppy away, could I? No. I quickly shook my head away from that thought as my eyes glistened with tears.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry...COME ON, ROZARIO!!

I mentally slapped myself.

Cry like a little bitch later, you can't cry in front of this man, or you will die a hundred deaths of shame.

With that much needed mental pep talk, I lifted my chin up and locked eyes with the detective...cop whatever he was, and opened my mouth.

"No, I will not help you, or anyone hunt down The Gilded Poppy," I declared firmly, trying to sound as emotionless as I could, but I came out more stubborn than I wanted. Both a blessing and a curse, hiding my emotions was never my strong suit. "So…" I looked away, trying to deflect whatever feelings from giving me away, "you are wasting your time, whoever you are."

"Whoever I am?" The man raised a brow, pulling up a chair next to my bed to sit as if he was here to tell me my Abuela died. "Yes, I'm a private investigator that deals in foreign affairs, but I took your case because I know you, Rozario, from high school."

WHAT???!!!!

My panic was apparent, and whatever pathetic excuse of a mask I had on my face crumbled away, never to be rebuilt again. You would have thought I looked shocked. No, I was just sad, and it showed. I still wasn't quite sure who he was, but I believed him. Shit.

"Now," the investigator spoke after waiting for a reply he never got. "It's been seven or eight years, but yes, we attended the same school in Florida, but I was a year below you. Thomas Parker," he hesitated, but continued, dropping his investigator persona for a slight second, glancing around the room as if someone was there. Still, no one was, and he whispered, bashfully while avoiding my gaze, "we were in the dance club together...."

Tommy. Dance club. For a naive moment, all my worries had washed away, and my heart raced with excitement. It was like I had never left America and could recite the "old days" with Thomas and complain how terrible Mr. Jenkins was, but no, that wasn't the situation. He was an investigator, and I was now a thief...an art thief. The same coin, but different sides. "Tommy...Thomas," I finally said, savoring the taste of that familiar name, a name I knew as real and not fake. "Yes," I nodded, still avoiding his gaze shamefully. "I remember," outside of the dance club, I didn't know him well, but I knew that his mother was from Cuba like my parents were. However, he had grown into a completely different person. Puberty had really hit him like a truck because the Tommy I knew was shorter, hairless, and had the cutest chubby smile and carried around a deck of Magic The Gathering cards. He was adorable, but the Tommy that sat beside me wasn't that person anymore, now he was Thomas Parker, here to take me away for my crimes.

His sigh brought my attention back to him, "what happened, Rozario? After high school?" For a second, he looked betrayed, and I was taken aback, still too stunned to conjure up any answers or explanations, "did you not have money?" He asked, but didn't wait for me to answer. "For a while, I assumed you were kidnapped and forced to do these crimes, but you definitely robbed that jewelry store on purpose. So, what happened?" He leaned back, now crossing his arms like a child would if they were pouting, but he just seemed...angry...and hurt. Why? He was only ever an acquaintance. "What happened to the girl who was constantly doodling in her sketchbook, with dreamy eyes and a contagious smile?"

"I...I…" I opened my mouth, ready with excuses, but the ball in my throat had grown too large for any words to be processed, and if it weren't for the wetness on my cheeks, I wouldn't have known I was crying. "A-adventure…" I finally whispered, not knowing if he heard.

Thomas's eye twitched at my answer, but seeing my upset state, he slipped back into his role as a private investigator and not Tommy from the high school dance club. "Your parents don't know, but they will," he said, pulling out a notepad and pencil from his pocket, "and you are looking at a thirty-year sentence, at least, when you return back to The States, but," he paused, clenching his jaw. "With good behavior, that sentence can be lowered to as short as a decade if you cooperate and help me put the rest of The Gilded Poppy behind bars. I know that the real Rozario would have never committed those crimes. Can't you see that they've tricked you?"

Thomas and I both knew that wasn't true, all those choices I made back then were mine alone, but it seemed as if he was trying to convince himself otherwise. I opened my mouth to speak, but he put a finger up to hush me.

"Don't say anything," he asked, voice going soft, "I've seen cases like this many times before. A naive girl gets charmed by a few criminals, and then the said criminals offer to show the girl the world and offer them wealth, a life of excitement and freedom. The naive girl accepts, she does a few crimes and has fun, but when something goes wrong, the criminals escape as the naive girl gets arrested and framed for their crimes."

"They wouldn't do that to me," I blurted out, much louder than I had meant as my heart quickened on the verge of another panic attack.

Thomas shrugged, gesturing to the hospital room, "then why are you still here? You've been chained to that hospital bed for a week, and rumor has it that you were poisoned," he raised a brow, "and the last time I checked, french security guards don't poison burglars."

"No," I shook my head, still denying the possibility, but the deeper Thomas's words sunk into me, the more insecure I felt about the trust I had in The Poppy, and he was right. It didn't help that I had been betrayed and abandoned by Vivienne the first time I was in Paris...but that was before they really knew me. I was on a trial heist then, but honestly? I would have thought Vivienne would have gotten me out of the hospital by now….or at least given me a sign that The Poppy was here. Maybe they weren't coming back, and my heart sunk further, like a dying whale, panging with something I could only describe as regret.

"Look," Thomas stood up, "whatever our past was, I'm here as an investigator, but I don't want to see you wilt away in prison when I know you don't belong there. We all make mistakes," he set down his notepad and pencil on my lap, "here, I know drawing puts your mind at ease." He gave me a small, sad smile before heading towards the door, "think about it, Rozario, you have twenty-four hours," and with those words said, Thomas left me alone with nothing but my thoughts and his notepad.

I blinked, my eyes crusty and sore from crying. I didn't know what I was going to do. The thought of having to live a life in prison terrified me. I didn't want to betray The Poppy, but was it worth a life in prison? Maybe I could find a way to cooperate without The Poppy getting caught.

Honor among thieves.

I snorted at that quote, beginning to sketch without even thinking. All I knew was that I was hurt, alone, scared, and depressed. I needed the embrace of a loved one more than ever.

Where had my life gone wrong?

A few of my tears dampened the paper, and when I got a closer look, I could tell I was just drawing a woman with Vivienne's likeness. Vivienne. I wanted to burn hotter than coal with anger, but instead, my soul wept as I clutched the drawing to my chest. Despite it all, I missed her.

There was a knock on my door, and I couldn't even compose myself properly before the nurse let herself in with a tray of today's breakfast. French hospitals put America's cafeteria food to shame, like always. Besides some language barriers, the hospital staff had been very kind, I owed them my life, but I was a mess right now and couldn't survive any more human interaction today. This experience had really brought out the introvert in me that I didn't even know was there, so I stayed silent, with my eyes on the notepad and flipped it to the next page, but instead of finding another blank page, there were words.

You are a thief now, aren't you? Escape the hospital and head to the hardware store down the road. You have 24 hours.

I read over the words at least twenty times before they registered. Escape. I had to escape. Was Thomas helping me escape? Or was The Poppy here to rescue me? It seemed like an almost impossible task, but it gave me hope, and I looked over to my left hand, chained to the hospital bed. Thanks to Nikolai, I could pick that, quite easily, in fact with my other hand free. Child's play. My heart fluttered with anxiety, and I looked at the nurse, but she wasn't in the room. Huh. I didn't even hear her leave. Suddenly, a long, slender hand cupped the side of my face and turned my gaze to the body it was attached to, the nurse, Vivienne. When our eyes connected, the stars aligned, making my heart flutter and eyes glisten with equal amounts of disbelief and admiration. "You're another hallucination…" I whispered, sunken eyes dreamy as her thumb dragged slowly down my lips.

"No," Vivienne shushed me with her lips, soft and flushed against mine, but she broke the kiss with a hiss before we could get lost, pressing her forehead against mine in promise. "A hallucination wouldn't burn the world for you."

To be continued…

#vivienne tang #vivienne x mc #queen of thieves lovestruck #lovestruck voltage #nikolai stirling #fanfiction #HEIST GONE WRONG #angst #red

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crimsonbluemoon · 5 years ago

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6, 3, 7 H2OVanoss! You know me heh ( •ॢᴗ•ॢ⋈)

Ahhh Owlbun! So I hope this fits the perimeters of a cute-meet cause I don’t know if it does but I think it does? Idk, its cute, please enjoy this mess of a story. >.> It’s a diff style than I normally do, but….hope it works out!

AU: Coffee shopTrope: Meet cutePrompt: “You had no idea, did you?”

Pairing: H2O Vanoss

If Evan was being honest, he hadn’t expected the chalkboard wall at his coffee shop to make much of a difference. The Owl Cafe was a staple in the community, and he had an okay group of regulars that liked to come in and check out his new blends on the daily. There were ones he knew by name, like the 6 year old girl Momo who loved Brian’s hot chocolate, or the late-night writer Kryoz who always seemed to appear when the place was deserted. Some regulars he didn’t catch names for, so he titled them as he saw fit; Runner man, vlogger teen, cute sweatshirt guy. All had their place in his cafe, which was steady in its sales. He wasn’t rolling in cash, but it was enough to pay Brock and Brian, so he felt that he was doing alright.

The chalkboard had been something of a whim. A friend when he was younger had a wall in his bedroom with chalkboard paint that Evan had always enjoyed drawing on before bed. When he’d bought the cafe two years ago, he hadn’t really remembered the fun times he had scribbling across the bedroom wall. He was too focused on payments and attracting customers to stroll down memory lane. That had changed three months ago when bumping into Lui, the two speaking about their times as a child. The wall came up, of course, and Evan couldn’t let the memory go for days after. Lots of his customers had children, and college kids were always quick to bore when waiting for coffee. So one night, after a really good week at the shop, Evan went out and bought the paint in order to make his wall next to the waiting area a drawing board.

The result was amazing; people loved coming by and adding their own doodles to the wall, filling it with different styles of art or funny sayings. There were always the punks who tried to draw dicks or write derogatory marks, but street justice tended to stop the crimes far quicker than Evan or his friends picked up on them. Evan enjoyed looking at the board at the end of the night, seeing what secrets it held from the customers he served. He tried to guess who drew what, or where each blurb of inspiration writing came from. Was the struggling mother of three the one who drew the calm beach? Did the preppy college girl express her darker thoughts in the corner of the board? Or was that old couple who shared a coffee really sweet enough to write their 70th anniversary with a heart around it? All of the pieces of the board was a collection of minds, hearts, and souls, and the nights didn’t feel complete for the shop owner without gazing at them in appreciation.

His favorite part was the confessions; like an anonymous message board, people left words of secrecy every day. Evan felt it was a safe way for customers to express themselves without having to reveal their identity, and so far he hadn’t gotten any confessions that worried him. Brock always enjoyed reading the romantic ones where someone would claim their love for a friend, an ex, or a person they could never have. Brian’s favorites were the weird claims; he made Evan keep the ‘I like smelling feet’ confession up for three days. Evan couldn’t really say he had a type he sought out, because all of them were fun to read. If anything, he liked taking in the handwriting of the confessions, seeing whose were quaking with fear or more broad with confidence that only anonymity provided.

It was nearly two months into owning the board that a message caught his eye; it didn’t have much color or outlandish design to it, so Evan wasn’t sure why it stuck out to him so much. But the writing just…looked different. Friendly. A little messy but with long enough strokes to show some care went into it. The words only took up a small part of the board.

I come here every day because I think the owner is nice. And maybe cute? I wanted to ask for his name, but I’m too nervous.

Evan blinked in surprise, feeling his face heat up when he read it again. Someone…confessed about him? It was sort of risky, since this was his shop and he could have checked in on the board at any time, but it was also endearing. Someone was too shy to approach Evan, but felt strong enough about him to confess on his wall? He read the line two more times while he cleaned off every other drawing and confession, leaving the words in the middle of the board. Slowly, his eyes dropped down to the basket of chalk at the bottom of the wall, fingers twitching by his side. Despite having it for months, he’d never actually written on it. He left designing the morning greeting to Brock, as he was the artistic one of the three. But now…

He kept the confession where it was, drawing a little circle around it with the red chalk. Then, with block letters bright enough to catch any returning customer’s attention, he wrote out a simple reply.

It’s Evan. Nice to meet you.

He didn’t think about the teasing Brian would rain on him, or how unlikely it was for him to get a response. The confessions were meant to be anonymous, not openers for conversation. So sure that his words would be left unanswered, Evan didn’t look once at the board the following day, trying to keep focused on making his customer’s happy. Any time he wasn’t working, he rushed into the back, trying to stay occupied so he didn’t stare at the wall. The day dragged on forever, but when the final customer was out the door, Evan nearly fell flat on his face vaulting over the counter to move to the board.

“Desperate much, buddy?” Brian’s shout from across the shop went ignored when Evan scanned the wall, looking for any sign of a response. At first, the words around the response were disheartening; nothing connected to what he’d said. The drawings were still cute, and he wanted to read the confessions, but his heart slightly dropped at the sight. Had he scared off the anonymous messenger? He felt his frown start to capture his lips, but then his eye picked up on something. A blue circle had been wrapped around Evan’s words, and a line of chalk was drawn to the left of the board. Curious, his eyes tracked the line. Like thread in a maze, Evan was led to a familiar handwriting.

Your name fits you! I’m…Jonathan. Is that okay?

“Jonathan.” He rolled the name around in his mouth, his smile small when he finished. He knew instantly what his new secret penpal was asking, and he found the red chalk from before in order to scribble out his answer.

That’s totally okay. I bet your name fits you, too, though I’m not sure who you are. Care to give me a hint?

And for the next two weeks, the hints poured out.

I like to wear blue a lot. Luke says it matches my eyes. But I think yours are prettier.

Evan counted seventy three customers with blue eyes who wore blue that day, but it did little to limit his search.

I saw you drop that lady’s coffee on purpose. She deserved it for treating Brock like that. You’re a really good boss.

The incident had been in the morning around rush hour, which probably meant his penpal was at least his age.

You only wear hats when you clean the mocha machine; it really looks good on you.

Except this was something he did at night, so maybe he had different shifts throughout the week?

Whenever little Momo comes in, you always give her the best smile. Sometimes I wish you’d smile at me like that.

Evan’s face hurt from how many smiles he gave out that day, but there had been nobody who hinted at knowing why he’d been grinning so much.

You’re so beautiful. I really want to ask you on a date.

Evan’s face flush red for the rest of the night.

After the days of trying to piece together just who ‘Jonathan’ was, Evan was almost ready to throw in the towel. The little banter between them was fun, and peeks of Jonathan’s personality came out with doodles or smilies at the end of his sentences. He mentioned his friends, his dog, and if Evan closed his eyes, he could almost make out a voice to the words. Everything just felt so familiar about this guy, like he was already seated comfortably in Evan’s life. But he just couldn’t come up with a name, or anything to sink his teeth into.

So, with a shot of courage (Brian may have supplied the alcohol) and nothing to lose, Evan wrote out one final message.

Anything but coffee, and I’ll say yes.

Evan tried not to look at the board, just like the first day, hoping he wouldn’t scare away his crush by staring the wall down. Brock and Brian helped distract him, jokingly picking out old men and toddlers as ‘his secret admirer’ before laughing at the outlandish suggestions. Evan tried to smile and joke with them, but his shaking hands when giving out the orders always proved how nervous he was. Each time a customer came up to him, his back tensed, wondering if it’d be his penpal. But they never were, always asking for sugar or a bag for their half eaten muffin.

When the last minutes of the day ticked away, and just a few regular souls lingered in the cafe, Evan finally broke. He left Brian and Brock behind the counter to walk up to the wall, hands shoved in the pockets of the apron to hide his twitching fingers. Slowly, his eyes scanned the board, trying to find the blue handwriting he’d grown to adore over the couple weeks he’d gotten to see it. But there was nothing; his crush hadn’t replied.

“I scared him away.” Evan sighed and pressed his head to the chalkboard, eyes closing in defeat. His shoulders slumped down, unable to hide his disappointment. He’d just wanted to know who this guy was, because starting to fall for a chalkboard he technically owned was starting to feel a little creepy-

“Um.” An unsure voice made Evan bite back a groan, trying to keep his composure. Even if he was being ghosted by an anonymous customer, it didn’t mean he could ignore his other ones. Pulling back from the wall, Evan turned to catch sight of a familiar face. Cute sweatshirt guy had been a regular for months, always polite but never one to really engage in much conversation with Evan or the others. He always contributed it to the slight stutter in his speech, which only seemed to come out in longer sentences. It was actually kind of late for cute sweatshirt guy to be at the cafe; he’d bought his coffee close to an hour ago, and though he normally left right after, he’d seemed to linger now. He’d been one of the people who’d come up to Evan, looking like he was going to burst out in a confession, only to ask for creamer.

And sugar.

And a new cup.

…And more creamer.

For a coffee he always drank black.

“Wait.” Evan’s breath hitched in his throat as his eyes widened on the blue gaze nervously watching him, fingers curled into the worn down sweatshirt that was identical in color.

“Yeah, I’m-that was me. Jonathan. Who you were-I’m the guy tha–that, um, fuck. Luke said I should’ve just-but the wall was…was our thing.” Jonathan’s face lit up in color at the confession, the nervous laugh that poured out loud and uncontrolled. It echoed from the emptiness of the cafe, and both men jumped when Brian swore and knocked over a stack of cups in surprise. Tagging that as future Evan’s problem, he turned his attention back to Jonathan, who looked ready to let his sweatshirt swallow him whole. The smile he gave only lifted half his mouth, proving he didn’t feel confident. “You had no idea, did you?”

“None,” Evan admitted, hands pulling out of his apron at the defeated look that sunk over Jonathan.

“Right, that’s- I don’t have to ask you on a date if this isn’t what you…if I’m not who you-”

“Ask me!” Evan cut him off fast, not wanting to let Jonathan feel rejected for a second longer. He rushed forward, snagging hands that tugged the end of torn sleeves to entwine their fingers. Blue eyes widened above him, but Evan refused to let his racing heart of reddened cheeks stop him from repeating his confession from before. “Anything but coffee, and I’ll say yes.”

“Dinner? Can I-would you like to get food with me tomorrow?” Like a puppy, Jonathan’s body perked up at the possibility. Evan laughed before lifting their hands to cup Jonathan’s cheeks. He pushed up onto his toes, feeling the slight intake of his customer’s breath before he answered with a kiss.

But just to be safe, he wrote ‘yes’ on the chalkboard the next morning.

#kihoori #H2O Vanoss #H2O Delirious #VanossGaming #OTP boys #<3 #Crimson drabblez

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rottengirll69 · 5 years ago

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Stu headcanons! <3

My Murd headcanons got a lovely reception, so it's only right of me to do Stu! Lmk who you want next :)

-Can secretly hit whistle notes. He only pulls it out on kareoke night though.

-Stu definetly likes to draw; he has piles of sketchbooks full of little doodles and lyrics.

-He loves to collect things. His window sill and shelves are crammed with cereal box toys and other little trinkets. They remind him of better times.

-Murdoc teaches him how to play the guitar every Tuesday evening.

-Despite his soft, clumsy persona, Stu can be very rude if you push his buttons.

-Very easily frustrated; he can dish out insults but he cant take them.

-He misses the plastic beach- he just wished Noodle could of been there.

-Shower singing sessions.

-Has a pet spider called Bobby Shpider (you know? Like bobby shmurda?)

-Sleeps naked.

- My favourite Stu quote is "I like your suit. Its cool. Do you wear it because you like it or because it makes you look cool?"

-Shady little bitch. WILL mumble under his breath at you.

-Twitches due to drug abuse. He's getting better now.

-Stu cannot spell to save his life. Heres an example of how bad it is -> click me!

-Even though Noodle is grown, he still treats her like she's little.

-Loves to hang around in Murdocs room; it has a weird sort of hippy vibe. It's comforting. If Murdoc ever found out, Stu would be in big trouble.

-Movie nights with Ace and Noods!!!! Every weekend babey!!!!!

-Paints his nails. Why the fuck not?

-Stu and Noodle always go shopping together for food. They never actually bring back sustinance, just a microwave curry and £70 worth of crisps. They also pull those silly pranks on people that you see all over youtube.

-Really good??? At massages???????????

-ALWAYS STONED. GIGGLES AT THIN AIR!!!

-Has his own weed plant which he cares about more than his own health.

-Stu falls in love too easy. A truly hopeless romantic.

- "Youre getting on my nerves you are."

- Calls ladies love, sweets, doll, hun, and darling.

-Stu makes little noises for no reason. Sometimes it can be strings of words, sometimes its little yips and giggles.

-Can be HORRIBLE when hes in a bad mood. Will tell you to fuck off and will call you a cunt and WILL NOT apologise. (Hes a pussy so he will just let the problem fester)

-When hes suffering, Noodle and Katsu will sleep in his bed with him and do their best to make him happy.

-Sits on the roof and smokes a spliff while singing el manana or melancholy hill. Murdoc often cracks his window open slightly to listen.

-Coffee at 5:30am with a nice book in the back garden.

-"BASTARD!!!"

- Really, really into conspiracy theories. He also believes in ghosts.

- Adores weird fashion- owns half of the early Mcqueen stuff.

-Stu loves sex. He just thinks it fun?????

-Bisexual KING

-Clubbing? Hell yea babey. Hes da disco king!!!!! Have you not seen his fresh and funky moves in strobelite????????

-h...h.has... kissed mu ... m.mmm. Urdoc..... at least ..o.o.o...once...

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selene19official · 4 years ago

Text

DustyGears FNAF AU #1

Hey guys!

So I have great news! I'm currently working on an AU idea for Scott Cawthon's Five Night's At Freddy's that, (I hope), is totally original and never heard/thought of before. I'm calling it DustyGears since my inspiration behind it is Steampunk and The Wild West.

So far I've got a basic design idea for Fredbear, Springbonnie, Marionette, Balloon Boy and JJ, (Or Jalloon Joy as some people have called her)

This AU is still a huge Work In progress since I need to figure out roles and designs for many characters. Some are bounty hunters, while others are performers, ghosts or the bounty themselves.

So Fredbear is the Sheriff in my little unnamed town. He's smart and friendly, but also serious, (especially when it comes to Mari and having to deal with BB and JJ). When he's angry he basically becomes Golden Freddy and that's when Cassidy takes over.

Springbonnie is the Deputy Sheriff and adopted brother of Fredbear's. He is a fun and outgoing passionate person who loves his friend and brother. In the story he becomes Springtrap after a terrible accident that leaves both Mari and Fredbear devastated since they think he died, Fredbear just managing to survive himself.

Then we have Mari/Charlie, our smart, gorgeous and dangerous bar/tavern owner. She is also very strong and powerful, but doesn't really use her powers since the last time it sorta backfired, even though she used it to save the lives of four strangers that had nearly died, (These strangers being Freddy, Bonnie, Foxy and Chica).

In her bar/tavern people can enjoy a drink and meal while watching a show. Bounty hunters also go there after catching a bounty so they can add it to their list and move up in the rankings, or to see what new bounties are available.

Freddy and his crew are common customers of Mari's since they began to trust her after everything that had happened in the past. (Bonnie is also constantly trying to steal her mask, but to no avail)

Now we have Mari's 'children'

These two aren't really related to Mari, but they bothered her enough to convince her to look after them and so she does, she also uses their help whenever a client comes in for repairs.

BB is the one who loves handing people balloons while JJ pops them, they also use this technique to scare people out the bar/tavern when they threaten their 'mom'.

They also love annoying Fredbear and teasing him about his crush on Mari while Spring just laughs in the background-

And here's an extra doodle of Mari since I absolutely adore her

I'll try and update this AU whenever I have new doodles/character designs and/or information, so stay tuned!

#Dusty Gears #Five Nights At Freddy's #Fredbear #Springbonnie #Marionette #Mari #Balloon Boy #JJ #BB #FNAF2 #Fredbear's Family diner #AU #DustyGearsAU

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jootsmcgoots · 4 years ago

Text

Like the Sun and the Sea (Abbacchio x F!Reader) SFW

So of course the first fic that goes up during my Fanfic Writer Appreciation fic-posting spree is, well, the very first fic I wrote for this fandom.

This was my very first work for JJBA and it was based off of a match-up i got from @headoverjojo (Sorry to tag you again Tricia ^^; while i’m here tho, love ur work and all that you do!) It was my very first match-up and I still remember it extremely fondly ;w; So here we are again boys to throw the first baby back onto this blog.

I’m not gonna repost the matchup because I abandoned my old blog due to personal and safety reasons, but the tl;dr is that I got Abbacchio and I was like “wow that’s neat I didn’t see that coming but hell yeah i’m down to clown!”

And so I wrote a fic based off of it.

I’ve written way more work since and I can see the bits of my style that I kinda miss or feel like I’ve lost in a way, but at the same time I’m proud to have come as far as I have. I don’t really write that much (as I only write on a ‘when i feel like it’ basis), but I can see where I have improved.

More on that later. We’re here to read cute shit now.

===========

Rating: General

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 2194

Summary: You spend a nice quiet day at the beach with Abbacchio after everything that happened with Diavolo.

Except you’re a big dumb and your boyfriend is a big grump, so things hardly stay quiet.

Banter, fluff, and shenanigans at the beach.

AO3 Link!

The gentle crash of waves, the distant cawing of seagulls, and the wind brushing past you were some of the few noises that you registered as you sat on the beach in relative silence. You absent-mindedly drew some random doodles in the sand with your finger while you waited for Abbacchio to come back from the car with the ice box.

The two of you had decided to take some time off together and decided to spend the day at the beach. It was currently vacant, as the spot you had chosen was a little out-of-the way and not very well-known. But for the two of you, it was perfect. After all, you simply wanted a bit of quality alone time with your lover; he deserved at least that much after what he had gone through with Diavolo.

You recalled the memory with a shudder and shook your head. Pressing harder, you sketched more lines into the sand to distract yourself. Sure, the journey wasn’t pleasant for anyone involved; you’d had a few close scrapes and near brushes with death yourself. But the very thought of Abbacchio’s near-miss with the boss sent shivers down your spine. You didn’t even want to begin to think about what could have happened to him.

Thankfully, your thoughts were interrupted by the soft thump of the ice box against the sand. You looked up to see Abbacchio setting it down and rising back to his full height to survey the scenery in front of him.

“Not too heavy?” you asked, tilting your head at him. He looked back to you and scoffed at your words.

“Of course not.”

“Still, I told you I could help...” Even though you knew Abbacchio was probably the most physically fit member of the gang and could probably handle the ice box just fine, you always felt bad whenever it felt like everyone else was doing all the work.

“I can handle it by myself.” He bent to ruffle your hair a bit, to which you couldn’t help but give soft laugh. “And anyways, I don’t know how much help a little twerp like you would have been.”

“Hey now, I might be littler than you, but you know I’m stronger than I look!” You offered a confident look on your face that made Abbacchio chuckle. While you rummaged around the box for a drink, he looked down and stared at the drawings you had made in the sand.

Abbacchio raised a brow. “What are those? Is that one supposed to be me?” You mumbled out an affirmative as you took a swig from the juice bottle you had selected.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you responded, “Yeah. I was bored while I was waiting for you. See, that’s you,” you pointed at the grumpy face with long hair that pointed upwards at the ends. “Bruno, Trish, Mista, Fugo, Narancia, Giorno, and me.” You pointed to each drawing as you listed off the names, one by one.

Crouching down, he inspected the crude drawings and hummed. “Do you always do dumb little things like this when I’m away?”

You huffed at him, indignant. “They’re not stupid!”

“They’re stupid and ugly,” he shot back, egging you on.

With a short “Ha!”, you responded, “I’d like to see you do better.”

“Maybe on a proper medium.”

“Ehh? Art is art. It doesn’t matter what medium it’s on. And anyways, art is subjective! I think you’re just being an ass.”

Abbacchio just chuckled in response as he sat down next to you on the towel, staring out at the ocean. Not saying much, he chose to just enjoy this moment with you. Then he felt you plunk your head down onto his shoulder, leaning on him while you puffed your cheeks out in that adorably huffy way. He reached for your hand, which had been resting in your lap, and moved to lace his fingers with yours. Abbacchio smiled to himself when you offered no resistance and in fact eagerly reciprocated the gesture, holding his hand in yours on your lap.

A moment passed before you broke the silence. “Well, it’s fine. It’s not as if my drawing skills are what…drew you to me.” Your face split into a stupid grin as you heard Abbacchio groan in exasperation.

“Ah great, here we go…” You heard him say, and you turned to see Abbacchio tilting his head backwards in annoyance.

“You’re just envious because I’m quicker on the draw when it comes to these things.” The grin on your face grew wider as you returned your gaze back to the sea. You didn’t even have to look at his face to know that he was grimacing now.

“(Y/N). (Y/N) please.”

“It’s not my fault that you’re so draw-matic about it! I’m just having fun!”

The last one earned you an even louder, even more annoyed groan. “Really?” he deadpanned, unamused. You merely flashed him a cheeky smile full of teeth and giggled as he released your hand to pinch his brow in annoyance.

Once you had come down from laughing at your own jokes, you took a breath and continued. “I swear, it’s amazing that you haven’t thrown yourself into the ocean after all of these dumb jokes,” you said with that stupid, cute sunny smile of yours. He both adored it and wanted to smack it straight off your face. “Honestly! I would have expected you to go into one of your fits by now.”

He snorted and began to stand, a wicked idea coming to him. “Why would I do that,” Abbacchio said the words slowly, and suddenly you felt his hands grabbing for you. In a swift movement, he had you hoisted into his arms as you squeaked in response to suddenly being lifted and being much higher up than you were before. “When I can just get rid of the nuisance myself?”

And with that, he began striding towards the shore with you in his arms. You kicked, struggled, and squirmed the entire way while pleading to him in-between your laughter.

“Leone! Leone, no! Don’t! Leone Abbacchio, you wouldn’t dare!”

Alas, your struggle was futile as he kept an inescapable hold on your wriggling form and your complaints fell on deaf ears as your boyfriend waded out into the shallower waters, deemed his position to be a sufficient launching point, and chucked your screaming form into the air. You soared a short distance before plummeting straight into the deeper waters with a large, satisfying splash.

Waves lapping at his shins, Abbacchio stared at where you landed in quiet amusement while you emerged from the water, splashing and gasping for air. Even then, you couldn’t help but give him an incredulous laugh. “What was that for?” You shouted from the waves. He huffed, calling back, “You know damn well what it was for.”

You pouted and made a whining noise. “That’s mean! What if I drowned or something? That would be on your conscience forever, you know.”

Abbacchio merely shook his head at you, a grin of his own forming on his lips. “Well, at least if you drowned, I would never have to deal with your stupid jokes ever again,” he teased. You feigned shock and hurt with a dramatic gasp.

“Yeah? Well, I’d just come back as a ghost and then you’d never ever be free of me.” You wiggled your fingers in a way that was meant to be spooky or creepy. “I would do nothing but whisper puns into your ear all night.”

“Then I would just ignore you and pretend that I never noticed you. Then you would be left haunting me the rest of my life, but would feel alone for the entirety of it.”

“Whaaat!” You drew out the word. “You’re such a mean boyfriend.”

He threw you a somewhat smug look. “Am I?”

You pouted and idly splashed around in the deeper parts of the water for a bit before a dumb idea surfaced in your mind. “Okay, let’s test it then!” you proclaimed in a cheery voice, and put on the highest, cutesiest voice you could muster.

“Oh no, Weone! Pwease hewp me! I’m dwowning!”

You could see Abbacchio tense up in annoyance in response to your antics. It was subtle, but you could see his lips flatten into an expression of irritation. You knew he hated that joke, but you pressed on.

“Pwease Mr. Abbacchio! Pwease hewp! I’m dwowning!” You couldn’t hold back your giggles anymore as you kept pleading to him in an obnoxious, sing-songy voice. “W-Weone! Weone, I’m dwowning! The water is wising! Ub-bwub-gwub! I won’t wast wong!” At this point, your words started to peter out as you had fallen into full-blown peals of laughter that filled the sky as you struggled to keep your eyes open from the tears forming in them.

Which is probably why you hadn’t noticed Abbacchio wading out farther and farther into the water where you were until you noticed your surroundings getting darker and felt him firmly grasp the back of your head. He held you there for a moment, and, without missing a beat, you threw him a sultry look and commented, “Oh. I wasn’t aware you were into…underwater sports.”

Abbacchio scowled slightly at you, muttering, “Ugh, (Y/N), you immature, little…” You could see his brow crinkle further in annoyance as you tittered in sheer amusement at your own dumb joke. Before you could make an inappropriate joke about regular “watersports”, you felt your head being forced downwards. His annoyed expression was the last thing you saw before Abbacchio roughly dunked your face into the water and held you underwater for a moment, watching the bubbles rise up to the surface. After a second, he raised your head up from the water, gave you another second to breathe, and then dunked you once more.

“Aughh--!” SPLOOSH!

“Leo--!” SPLOOSH!

“Come on---!” SPLOOSH!

“It was just---!” SPLOOSH!

“A joke!” SPLOOSH!

Once you had ceased all talking and were reduced to coughing, sputtering, and the occasional giggle, Abbacchio released his grip on your head and settled his hand on your shoulder as you leaned up against him. You were still giggling from your own shenanigans, as well as the sudden rush of playful (albeit somewhat rough) actions from your boyfriend.

He sighed out, “You really are a silly idiot. What am I going to do with you?” Despite the bite in the words themselves, you heard the teasing and loving tones in his voice and smiled to yourself.

You peered up at him, slicking back some of the hair that was covering your eyes. “Apparently you’ll throw me into the ocean like some sort of cursed object, and then dunk me in the water several times. What kind of boyfriend does that? Do I look like a Lebowski? Do you want me to tell you where the money is?” you quipped with an impudent grin that only grew wider when you saw his expression crack into a grin of his own as he shook his head at you once more.

Then you felt the hand on your shoulder dip lower to your back as Abbacchio pushed you close to him, pulling his arms around you into a hug. You shuddered as a pleasant warmth enveloped you, contrasting against the cool water you two were standing in.

“Hmm? Haha, Leone…” you breathed out. “What’s this all about?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Pffft. To you, everything I say is stupid. So I get to say damn well what I please.”

“Hmm.” He seemed to ponder your statement. “That sounds about right. So, fair enough.”

“You asshole.”

During your exchange of words, you had wrapped your arms around him and held him tightly in a hug of your own.

“Hey, Leone?”

“Hm?”

“I love you. I really do. I’m glad that you’re here.” Your grip on him had grown tighter at these words.

Abbacchio closed his eyes for a moment, committing the feeling of your arms around him to his memory. In those seconds where you two just held each other in silence, the water splashing against him gently, he began to think to himself. After everything that had happened, he was glad to be able to spend this time with you like this, to be able to listen to your silly jokes, to be able to just banter and tease each other like this, to see the corners of your eyes crinkle with mirth and your lips turn upwards into an unashamed, jubilant smile that would give way to a laugh that would cause his heart to flutter and threaten to cause his lips to pull into a small smile of his own (no matter how unamused his reaction seemed to be).

You were a stupid little fool, bright and brilliant. And you loved him.

He hummed affirmatively in response.

His voice came out as a low rumble that you could feel emanating from his chest. “I love you too.” And his heart blossomed with warmth when he opened his eyes to see you smiling widely at him, for him.

#my writing #niko writes #fluff #fluffy #my fanfiction #my fic #Vento Aureo #Leone Abbacchio #female reader #reader insert #female pronouns #s/o #post vento aureo #silly #puns #sfw #beach day

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taehyungsgrowl · 5 years ago

Note

Let me tell you, Duncan once catch y/n and Jim stalking and thristing about some pretty boys on insta. he had all the feelings, dunc was a little discouraged, self conscious, a little sad with a mix of mad but mostly JEALOUS. He hide in his office for a while thinking about giving them the silent treatment but finally deciding on being more rough (n' extra dom) with them that night trying to show them he is the only one that can make them feel so freaking good 👌 -drunk anon

{gif credit to @arthmorgn}

This is an old ask, but since we’ve all been missing Duncan x Sugar Babies - I thought it’d be a good time to revisit this.

This made my tummy do little flips because.. well.. jealous Duncan is a whole ass concept that I adore. Because thirsty hoe.

A few extra thank yous to @langdonsinferno @wickedlangdon , and @lvngdvns s for helping build my dom!duncan. Also.. considering the standards in this fandom - this isn’t very mean!dom or extra rough. So. Please be nice lol I’ve gotten far too used to writing soft pieces.

As always, thank you for reading & enjoy!

“It’s unfair, really.” Jim slumped into the plush sofa. His thumb scrolled on his screen, “He’s just so damn hot.”

“I know.” Y/N was laid on the couch with her head resting on Jim’s lap. “Let me see!” she took the phone from his hands to closer examine the image on his phone.

“He’s so pretty. I bet he only drinks and eats kombucha and kale salads.” She commented out loud on the photo of the attractive Instagram influencer that both Jim and she obsessed with.

Duncan came around the corner to see his babies playing nice on the couch. He always loved seeing how those two could feed off each others energies. The perfect little bundle.

“He’s just so damn hot.” Duncan heard Jim say. His lips twitched up in a smile, thinking Jim was talking about him. He continued to overhear their conversation - he quickly put together they weren’t talking about him. Heat rushed to his face and his heart dropped.

It was ridiculous to feel upset over it; he knew that. But it didn’t matter. He looked down at himself, noticing how his dark shirt clung a little to his tummy. What did Donavan the Instagram model have that Duncan didn’t?

“I think anyone who has to Facetune their photos so much, isn’t worth all the attention.” Duncan spoke up as he approached them.

“Besides, I can - or rather, I am giving you guys the life style he promotes, am I not?” Duncan sat on the ottoman, scratching his beard - something he always did when he was annoyed. It was only one of the reasons he didn’t play poker with his friends anymore - they figured out his tell tale sign.

Y/N and Jim exchanged a look. What in the hell had gotten into Duncan? “It’s all in good fun,” Jim offered, putting his phone away.

“It’s not like you don’t follow models on instagram. Don’t tell me you’re jealous, daddy?” Y/N liked pushing his buttons. Jim stifled a giggle and avoided Duncan’s eyes. Y/N may be the brat in their relationship, but Jim always managed to go down with her.

Duncan rolled his eyes so far back into his head, “Right. Because I would be jealous of him,” he scoffed. “You two enjoy your screen time. I have work to do.”

“Shit..” Jim whispered quietly.

“He’ll be alright, Jim.” Y/N reassured him. “We gotta think of ways to make it up to him,” she winked and poked at his ribs, making him giggle.

Duncan retreated back to his office to get work done. Or so he told himself. In truth, he hated how jealous he felt, but he couldn’t entertain the idea of his babies wanting someone who wasn’t him. They were his and always will be.

He understood that the person on the screen wasn’t a real threat to him or what he shared with them; but he didn’t want Y/N to start comparing him to an unrealistic hyped up model. Not when they had something real.

His fingers tapped on the smooth mahogany - too lost in his own thoughts to get any actual work done.

The door creaked open and he looked up from his absentminded doodles he’d made on a sheet of paper.

Jim and Y/N treaded lightly into the corridors of his office. Both on them dressed for bed; Jim in his plaid boxers and Y/N in an old T-shirt that came down to her thighs.

Duncan had managed to avoid speaking to them for the rest of the day. Sure, the silent treatment wasn’t the most mature response to the situation, but Duncan didn’t play fair.

“Are you coming to bed with us?” Jim pouted. Sweet Jim, Duncan thought. He could see the desperation on him - both of them, really. He glanced at Y/N and how she nervously toyed with the hem of her shirt.

A dark chuckle passed his lips as he stood from his desk and walked over to them. He noticed they way Jim and Y/N’s hands brushed against each other as he approached them.

“Now,” he grabbed Jim’s chin, looking into his blue eyes, “Are you sure you don’t want someone else in bed with you, baby?” The corner of his eye watched his other sugar baby.

“N-no,” Jim stuttered, “We want you, daddy. Only you.”

“Hmm,” he dropped Jim’s chin and turned to face his girl, “What about you, princess? Are you aching for someone else’s cock?”

She shook her head timidly. The way his crystal blue eyes har darkened and his jaw was tense, made her insides turn.

“Use your words, Y/N.” his eyes narrowed.

“No, daddy,” she licked her lip, not daring to drop her gaze from his eyes.

“Seemed that both of you” each one of his hands found their way to their crotches. He gently palmed over Jim’s hard on while his left index finger slowly ran up and down Y/N’s panties, “were more preoccupied with someone else. Don’t forget; you’re mine.”

Poor Jim began attempted to grind himself on Duncan’s palm.

He felt the blood rush to his lower abdomen as Duncan continued to touch him, “Please,” he finally let out. There was something magical about the way his body responded to Duncan. To his voice, to his touch, even a simple look made his knees go weak.

The older man’s hand stopped briefly. Only enough for him to lean towards Jim. Jim felt Duncan with every fiber of his being - his hot breath ghosted over his lips as they hung open. They always say that the moment before a kiss is better than the kiss itself.

His blue eyes fluttered as his anticipated Duncan’s mouth on him. And he did feel Duncan’s lips. Just not in the tender kiss he expected.

Duncan leaned forward and caught Jim’s plump bottom lip between his pearly white teeth. He tugged back, brining the boys lip with him. A possessive gesture. One that made Y/N grow wetter by simply watching.

“Ahh,” a strangled whimper left Jim’s mouth. Duncan released him with a sinful curve of his lips.

He turned his attention to Y/N, who had now soaked through her cotton panties. His fingers were sticky with her arousal and all he’d done was brush up against her clothed pussy. That’s my girl, he thought.

Duncan brought his fingers up to his mouth - sucking on them slowly.

So s l o w l y.

Jim’s cock twitched in his boxers at the sight of Duncan’s hollowed cheeks and pink bubblegum tongue.

“C-come to bed with us,” she begged, “please,”

Hiss gaze was like that of a tiger watching his prey, glancing between the two of them. His hands had stopped their pleasing motions.

“Show me how much you want me.” he shrugged. His typically cool demeanor never faltering. Unamused smirk twitched (much like his own growing bulge).

Jim and Y/N felt the tension in their shoulders drop. Both still so turned on for Duncan and his power games. He loved to make them edge and beg for him.

Y/N took Duncan’s smooth hand and dragged in under her shirt. He could feel the softness of her skin and each dip and curve of her body. She stopped when he grasped at her breast, “We’re all yours,” she whispered.

Duncan laughed, pulling her in close. His tongue protruded from his lips and licked a stripe up her neck. She shuddered lightly feeling marked by Duncan.

Jim licked his own lips in anticipation again. Duncan always loved making that antsy boy wait. He needed a lesson in patience anyway.

“On your knees, princess.” the rasp of his voice rang low in her ears.

Promptly, she dropped down without missing a beat.

“Now, baby boy.” he grabbed the back of Jim’s hair, tugging it just enough to sting a little, “Gonna show me how damn hot you think I am,” he teased him.

“Yes, daddy.” eager little Jim joined his co-baby on the floor.

Without much more buildup, their daddy took his hard cock out for them. He loved feeling their greedy mouths on him. Never quite fighting for him, but always working together for Duncan.

Y/N Jim let their tongues and wet mouths be the ones who ask Duncan for forgiveness. With each swipe of their tongue on a vein was like a boost to Duncan’s ego.

Fingers laced into their hair as he held them close to him. Each one them taking turns with his cock. Kissing it. Sucking it. Pleasing him.

Jim grabbed Y/N’s chin after releasing Duncan from his mouth and kissed her hard. She felt her lips turn to mush at the hardness of his kiss. Her tongue slipped between his parted lips and tasted the faint taste of Duncan. Jim and Y/N groped at his length and jerked his forward.

“God,” a robust groan came from Duncan, “Feels so good,” his fist clenched in their hair as he released his load on their shared kiss.

His dick stayed hard with the scene of them cleaning his cum off each other. Sloppy, wet, and erotic was the only way to describe it. They shared his hot white gloss.

“Get up,” he commanded, once they had wiped his cum off their faces. They sheepishly obeyed his orders, standing up again. “I’m not done with you yet.” He circled around them; both covered in his cum and with obvious wet spots on their underwear. He could practically see Jim’s leaking red cock through the dark fabric.

Duncan nodded his head towards the desk, a silent order. One that Jim knew well. All it took was one look and Jim knew. He glanced back at Y/N before bending over the desk and spreading his legs slightly.

Blood was pounding in his hot ears as he awaited what Duncan would do to him. Would he start by spreading open his cheeks and ramming his cock inside? Or maybe he’d take his time and swat his ass a few times until it was red, raw, and ready to be pounded. Either wave, Jim was aching at the thought.

He tried to subtly rub himself against the edge of the desk. The hard soon sent a painful wave of pleasure.

Duncan walked over to the expensive mahogany desk. He ran his long fingers over the surface; let the gingerly dance along the smoothes. He knew the way Jim’s stomach was bubbling now. So eager for what awaited his baby boy.

And Y/N. His fucking princess; left soaked and agape as Duncan gave her no further instruction. Yet.

Her eyes were fixated on Duncan’s veiny hand and how it seemed to manuever expertly. She wanted -no. Needed to have them on her.

Duncan’s dark eyes peeled away from her momentarily as he pulled something out of a drawer. He held the shiny, black, toy in both hands slightly rubbing the wand in a jerking motion.

Jim’s pretty pink hole began clenching. Both him and Y/N had previously experienced this toy of Duncan’s. Jim’s mind became hazy remembering all the orgasms that little wand hand given him. He bucked his hips into the desk again, miserable whimper leaving his mouth.

“Oh, baby,” Duncan’s coo was covered in false sympathy, “Desperately trying to get off like that on my desk isn’t going to make me fuck you any faster.”

He turned his attention to Y/N who was now pressing her thighs together. Her sticky arousal gliding down her legs. He motioned her to him with his index finger; another silent order his baby new well.

Y/N stood in between the two men. She couldn’t help but notice how heavily Jim was breathing.

Duncan handed her the sleek anal vibrator. It felt heavy in her hands; usually the one controlling it, controlling her, was Duncan.

He walked over to Jim and tore off his underwear. The cool air hitting his precum soaked head made him hiss. “Duncan, please. It hurts now. I - I need to cum,” Jim cried out.

“Duncan?” Duncan shook his head, “Oh, you know better than that, baby. Don’t tell me someone else is your daddy.” he pulled Jim’s hair back, his head rolled back to look at Duncan. “Who’s your daddy?”

The harsh tug on his scalp made his skin tingle. The mixture of pain and pleasure taking over.

“You!!” Jim yelped, “you, daddy.”

The verbal validation was great for Duncan, but nothing was better than the physical manifestation of having them crumble at his will.

He released his grip on Jim’s hair. Pulling Y/N over to him, he made her stand directly behind Jim. Ghosting his lips over hers, he quietly said, “You’re going to ruin Jimmy for me.” his voice was low and husky.

Duncan spit on two of his fingers and smeared his hot saliva on Jim’s opening.

A barely there gasp came from both of his babies. Y/N watched in awe as Jim’s ass reacted to Duncan’s touch. She gulped silently, nervous about what he meant by ruining Jim.

“You’re gonna follow each one of my orders, princess,” it wasn’t question. He stepped back, seeing the ruffled expressions of his baby girl. “Go on,” He unbuckled the belt of his pants, “Cover it in your spit. Get it nice and wet for him.”

She stuck the toy in her mouth, wrapping her lips securely around it. She made obscene sounds, sucking it for Duncan.

“That’s enough,” he put his hand up and held on to his belt tightly.

“Stretch him, open,” Duncan was so hard. He had a perfect view of Jim’s asshole, red, wet, and gaping.

She carefully pressed the end of the toy to his hole, “Please,” begged Jim.

“I didn’t say stop,” Duncan quipped.

She continued pushing in as Jim cursed under his breath. His knuckles were white from the grip on the desk.

“Turn the pulse on - fastest setting. You know the one you like so much, baby?” he smirked.

Y/N turned the vibration settings on, following Duncan’s order. Jim’s thighs were shaking. He rutted his hips into the sharp edge.

Duncan kneeled behind Y/N and discarded her panties. He smacked her ass ruthlessly, making sure his handprints were left behind. He gripped at her fleshy, full bottom after each spank.

“Harder,” he barely heard her speak. “Harder?” he repeated.

Jim was losing himself as Y/N continued to pump him with the toy.

“Don’t test me, Y/N.” he spanked her ass again, bruising it with his palm.

Duncan spread her cheeks apart, taking in a good look at her glistening pussy.

Her lips were parted by his long middle finger as he gathered her juices. His fingers searched for her swollen bud. Once he found the sensitive bundle, he pinched down on it.

Duncan was brutal on her pussy. His fingers fucked into her deeply, curving and scraping on the spongy pink flesh.

Bratty Y/N was no where to be seen. She was a whimpering mess as Duncan worked her hard, “What was that?” he taunted.

“Tell me who makes you feel so good,” he growled and bit into her ass.

“You daddy,” her childish whine making both Jim and Duncan moan.

Her hold on the toy that penetrated Jim was shaky, making each and every thrust unexpected for Jim.

“That’s right. Never forget who makes you feel like this. Both of you.” he attached his lips to her clit and sucked it. Her taste was as sweet as nectar and he was taking straight from the fruit.

“So, fucking close,” Jim panted. Each wave the toy sent to his prostate sending him into overdrive.

“Turn it off.” he mumbled into her cunt. “Turn off the toy,”

She fumbled shortly but managed to obey him.

“You’re not cumming yet. You’ll cum when I say so,” Y/N slumped forward as he got off his knees - the ache between her thighs still there.

Duncan carefully took the toy out of Jim and began walking out of his office without another word.

“Come on,” he called from the hallway. Jim and Y/N both felt like they could barely walk.

They followed him into the room where he now laid on their bed, his clothes discarded. His own veiny cock sprung proudly against the happy trail on his lower stomach. Y/N loved feeling it against her base skin when the fucked chest to chest.

“Come ride my cock, baby,” Jim nodded eager to please.

He climbed over Duncan, positioning himself above. He grabbed the base of the Duncan’s cock and sank down on it. Y/N had prepared his tight little ass for Duncan.

Jim could feel the indentations of Duncan’s nails sinking into his skin begin to form. He started grinding his hips, forward and back, wiggling. His cock was leaking down his shaft and on to the base of Duncan’s balls.

“You’re so fucking tight.” Duncan touched Jim’s length, he fisted the boys cock and began lazily pumping him.

“Princess, I”m not done tasting my sweet pussy. Come here.” he slapped his own face slightly with his free hand.

Y/N spread her thighs around his face, dropping her dripping cunt on his mouth. His tongue darted inside and began fucking her. His tongue spiraled around her clitoris.

The room was filled with sloppy, wet, sounds of flesh slapping together.

Y/N pulled Jim to her and kissed him. A slow sensual kiss that Duncan wish he could have seen. It was the brushing of her tongue on his mixed with tightening grip Duncan had on his cock that finally had Jim cum. He spurted his stickiness on to his and Duncan’s tummy.

Duncan moaned feeling the hot cream land on him. Before long, he felt himself coming undone for the second time that night.

His tongue movements slowed down as he orgasmed. The slow kitten licks on her clit made her calves tense. She was so close.

“Daddy, please. I wanna cum too. I’ve been good, please, please please,” she pleaded in soft panting.

He nodded beneath her and worked her clit until she collapsed. Jim helped by helping her balance as she rode Duncan’s tongue. His hands caressed down her body, paying extra attention to her full breasts.

Duncan tasted her cum on his tongue as she finished for him.

Sweaty, hot, and messy, they laid on the bed, too warn out to move.

Y/N and Jim rested their heads on their daddy’s tummy, eye drifting off.

“We’re sorry, daddy,” Y/N mumbled almost fast asleep.

"We’re all yours” Jim reassured him.

Duncan smiled down at them even though they couldn’t see his face. He stroked their head lightly, “I know, my loves. I’m all yours too,”

****

Thank y’all for reading. This took me longer than expected because I really wanted to deliver for drunk anon and give her some dom!duncan instead of my go-to soft!daddy!duncan (getting out of my comfort zone a little bit tysm)

Again, thank you for those I asked on for opinions/suggestions. I love reading some dom/harsh stuff, but when it comes to writing - i always go super soft so yeee i appreciate :)

Tags: @1-800-bitchcraft @divinelangdon @dvncans @langdonsdemon @plsfuckmelangdon @langdonsoceaneyes @mega-combusken @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @lathraios @ticklish-leafy-plant @wvntersldr @wroteclassicaly @michael-langdon-appreciation @ritualmichael @langdonswhoreprobably @viridarium-girl @coollangdon @bbyduncan @venusxxlangdon @langdonsfeed @rocketgirl2410 @cocosfern @ccodyfern @lovelylangdons @sammythankyou @maso-xchrist @langdvnshepherd @americanhorrorstudies @icylangdon @emmyrosee @ladynuwanda @flowersiren @starwlkers @littledemondani @queencocoakimmie @fckinsupreme @langdonscherry

I will be rebuilding my taglist soon (?) so please lmk if you’d like to be added or removed.

#duncan shepherd #jim mason #duncan x sugar babies #duncan shepherd x reader #jim mason x reader #jim mason x duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd smut #jim mason smut #smut is not my strongest area #hoc #ttopv #the tribes of palos verdes #house of cards #cody fern #ahs #YEEE I HOPE YALL LIKE

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lemon-patches · 5 years ago

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Random Handon Headcanons

I just couldn’t get these out of my head so I wrote them down

Hope and Landon leave little notes for each other everywhere. In each other’s rooms, on the bed, in their bags, on their school stuff. Lizzie once asked Hope to borrow a folder for class and Hope accidentally gave her the wrong one. In class, Lizzie nearly gagged over how cute it all was

The first time Landon came back to life everybody (sans MG and Kaleb because...awkward) hesitantly hugged him at first except Hope who couldn’t stop looking at him like he was a ghost until she suddenly just jumped him and wouldn’t let go of him all night. Side note: It’s also how Landon found out that Hope was a clingy/cuddly sleeper. Side side note: Every other time Landon dies Hope needs a minute to just...listen to his heartbeat and hold him to make sure he’s really there

During the time that everybody forgot her, Hope was on her own a lot and kept her sanity by keeping company with the crystal. She used it to “talk” her friends like MG, Lizzie, Josie and even Kaleb every now and then but it was usually Landon who showed up

“The Handon drink” (Peanut Butter Blast, whipped cream on the bottom) was actually a bit of an accident. It was Landon’s first day and he was super nervous so he kinda blacked out and made the milkshake backwards. Hope was confused at first when she saw it but ended up preferring it in the end

It’s already established that Landon likes to write Hope letters, even if she’ll never see the majority of them but Hope in return likes to drawl little doodles (if not full on portraits) of Landon in class with little tiny comments to side like “curly hair, I care”

Speaking of hair, Hope likes playing with Landon’s hair...a lot. It’s fun and Landon finds her fascination adorable since his hair has personally been a pain for him in the past so at least it’s helping him in some regard

They are not sports people...at all. Hope may be the resident badass but even she has her kryptonite. And it’s sports. And Landon, bless him, has all the eye-hand coordination of a baby duck

Ever since she’s gotten a new roommate, Hope has been spending more time in Landon’s room. She has a habit of leaving some of her books and her boots there and always leaves with at least one hoodie. (The oversized, well worn, grey one with the star wars logos on the back is her favorite)

Hope, bless her, isn’t the most organized person, especially with her art supplies which drives Landon just a little bit crazy. So if he ever has free time and happens to be in her room he’ll casually just organize all her stuff and even sharpen some of her colored pencils or clean her brushes

A little bit on the angstier side but every time Landon dies she’s filled with anxiety because she can’t help but think “what if that time was the last time?” It’s such a relief for her whenever she hears the familiar burst of flames and smell of fresh ashes...morbid as that sounds

Unicorns are an inside joke between them

They’re sometimes called The Makeout Couple™ because sometimes it literally feels like it’s all they do. “Get a room you guys.” “We did...this one.”

While Landon knows that Hope isn’t the biggest SciFi fan he does get her to watch one of his favorite movies every time they finish a season of Cutthroat Kitchen

Neither of them are allowed to watch a new episode of Law & Order: SVU without the other

Sometimes when they share a bed Hope has to be on alert because every now and then Landon will unconsciously levitate with her still attached or worse, on top of him, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happens next

Landon’s eyes make Hope a little weak while it’s Hope’s smile that does it for Landon

But back to that cuddling thing real quick. Landon makes the best pillow and Hope is the best blanket

As revealed by Lizzie, Hope knows how to bake so she will randomly surprise attack Landon with baked goods. No seriously, one time he was doing homework alone and turned around for a second and suddenly there were cupcakes in front of him. His girlfriend is a ninja.

There’s a legend of the mysterious sleep and coffee deprived Hope Mikaelson that some have claimed to have seen but have no proof. Landon has. In fact sometimes if she’s really groggy but still has to be up she won’t even open her eyes and just blindly grabs for Landon’s hand as he leads her to breakfast. She looks like a blind koala and it’s adorable.

#Legacies #Handon #Hope Mikaelson #Landon Kirby #I don't know what this is really #but why not share it with the world?#headcanons #handon headcanons

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at-the-exd-of-everythixg · 5 years ago

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@this-is-gizmo I remember a while back you wrote your birthday and I MAY or may not have put it in my calendar so I could write this for you??? ahhh anyway enjoy???

“Okay, so we all know the plan right?” Pascal tapped against the board a serious look on his face. His little army nodded, equal looks of seriousness on their faces.

Lace was sitting next to Wulf, looking rather unnerved over how Mahogany was stretching their leg over his and Wulf’s legs. God, legs for days on the gangly noodle that was intent on getting kids out of all of them. Wulf had slung an arm over his shoulder and was playing with his collar in a way that made extra four eyes open up slowly. They all ignored the silent scream Wulf made as he pulled Lace closer into his arms.

Sal was sitting on the other side of Mahogany, eyes half shut as Wulf’s fingers (from his other arm being slung over Magpie’s shoulders) gently scratched into his head. Pascal wondered if Sal minded the fact that Wulf was causing his little apple head to bobble but...he didn’t. Huh. Well, Dae was probably wondering the same thing as he doodled figures of them all and wrote down the plan next to the figures.

“Operation; Seduce the ghost that haunts our life amazingly is a go!”

**********

“O-ok! Here we are!” Lace beamed as he led Rhys into the living room. The blankets had been sprawled out with ice cream floats resting next to some spice cakes that Dae had baked (he had baked too much so Lace had took some off his hands.

“I figured we could sit, read, cuddle and uh-” He cleared his throat and ignored the small grin on Rhys’s very cute face. “Snuggle.”

“Aye. M’sure it’ll be fun love-lace.” Rhys was adorable when he smiled and the taller man found himself nodding dumbly, flushing when Rhys took his hand and walked to sit down with him. Lace was rather proud when he heard the small noise of pleasure as Rhys settled down on the blanket. Oh, he looked so small and Lace wanted to pick him up and carry him away where he’d be safe-

“Lew?” He was brought back to attention when he noticed that Rhys had started to sip his float, Ferret padding along and squeaking as he clambered onto Rhys and immediately started to dig because obviously Rhys carried tuna in his crotch. The monster felt his heart melt when the pale man had laughed and stroked a finger along ferret, cooing to him. God, maybe Mahogany was onto something when they demanded kids.

But for now, Lace smiled softly and settled down on the blanket, pulling a slow arm around his small boyfriend and ignoring the questions about where Wulf and Dae were. He’d see soon.

**********

“My jewel, I t’ink yer may have gone a bit overboard...” But Rhys was smiling so Dae sighed carefully and took his hand, letting his sweet boyfriend take in all the smells and “sights” of what he had baked. He had baked a lot of things, mostly coffee flavoured things but Dae had made himself a small collection of coconut flavoured treats because he knew that Rhys would demand it.

“Ah-and? Y-you deserve it, no doubt ah-about th-that.” A part of him still felt nervous about saying such things in such a manner, but when you had six partners that fussed and split you precious chores apart? You kind of had no choice but to gain some confidence. And this day was all about Rhys so he definitely deserved more and...was certainly going to get it...

The pale man beamed and Dae felt like he was walking on air, like was completely delighted, which he was because Rhys liked what he had made and put work into with as much love as possible. The diamond-studded man felt weak in the knees when Rhys practically moaned in delight as the first taste of the treats. “I j-just wan-wanted to m-muh-make sure you had puh-plenty to enjoy.” After all, he and Wulf always worried over how thin half of the group seemed. With Rhys at least, they could do something about it.

“I love it, darlin’. Jus’ a shame dat Sal an’ Pascal couldn’t be here t’enjoy it.” Rhys said and Dae shrugged, nervously handing his marshmallow a plate to take into the living room with him.

“W-well,” He tried to not wince when he heard the choked gasp from Rhys as they went in and saw the dining table full of stews, broths, Irish breakfasts and more desserts laid out. “I’m sure th-that they’ll have puh-plenty later.”

**********

“Steady, little love.” Wulf smiled as he led Rhys on, being sure to tell him small facts about the trees and flowers they were passing. There had been amazement (and a few tears) on Rhys’s gorgeous face, but nothing was comparing to now where he led the smaller man into a clearing of Álfheim.

It was meant to be night, but Álfheim never really was dark thanks to the beauty and light of Frey but it was at this time that the elves of the realm would gather and dance into the brighter light with their flutes and wines being celebrated. Sadly, they wouldn’t be able to join in, Light Elves were sensitive about who could be among them for such a tradition, but at least he and Rhys could sit some distance away and watch the show together. It was really quite spectacular.

The Elves started out slow but it wasn’t long until all Wulf could see of them was dazzling twirling lights. Smaller pixies and forest spirits had started to appear by the edges too. Pixies, Dwaves, Huldras and even Slattenpattes had arrived, although this made the Asgardian wrap an arm around his lover to keep Rhys closer. He could see interested eyes flicking over before they too were eventually dragged back to the stunning sight of the elves. Good, the last thing Wulf wanted was for the most special person in his life being whisked away by something more magical than he was.

“Next time,” The wind rider whispered, pressing a kiss to Rhys’s forehead and loving the pleased noise the smaller man had let out. “I’ll take you to the realm of the Dwaves. They’re very good drinkers.”

Rhys had glanced over and in that moment, Wulf could have sworn that Frey and Freya had blessed this man he loved so dearly. Who he would give up his very own apple of immortality for. Rhys seemed to have been glowing as brightly as the elves themselves, a stark contrast against the black rock shirt he wore. His beaming grin alone could have had any god on their knees and swearing eternal loyalty to him and him alone.

“Oh, Wulf, I-” Rhys didn’t get to finish what he was saying because Wulf was pulling in the man he loved most to kiss him and cup his sweet face in his rough hands. He would make tender love to Rhys tonight and would smile softly when the smaller man would chat excitedly to Mahogany and Lace about what Wulf took him to see and he would laugh at the embarrassed noise of jealously that Lace would make.

**********

“A-ah! S-starshine, are yer sure dat d’is is safe?”

Sal prided himself on the fact that he didn’t roll his eyes at Rhys’s panic. Pascal had said that “You’re really unhealthy man” and that apparently equalled to “you’re going to sit with me, Wulf and Rhys to talk about your feelings every week”. It was dumb but...Sal could tell Rhys he loved the dumb sap much easier now and there were...softer moments between them both that made everything easier. Although Rhys still needed hints as to when Sal suddenly needed space. Mahogany was good at tugging Rhys away at those times and stopping an outbust.

“Yeah Moodle-doodle, you’re all good babes.” The hybird grinned and took Rhys’s hands, floating them a little higher and bathing in the full moon’s love. He had kissed the pale man in his star form, mostly ‘cause everyone else seemed to be doing heartfelt and super mushy gestures and Sal...wasn’t good at those. He got nervous at the romantic stuff Rhys did (and sometimes the taller man went a little to far and it always made Sal cry) and Sal could never figure out what would be good enough for the man who loved him most.

He wanted to be able to give Rhys something good. Something Sal yet...romantic. He didn’t know what he would have given if he knew romance as easily as the others did but...He could try, right? Kissing Rhys in his star form and taking him flying, one of the best things in the world to Sal, seemed like a good thing. Rhys looked beautiful, dark skinned with twinkling white spread across his body. He was missing a mouth and most human features apart from overly large white eyes and Sal adored the sight. He wanted to put his arms around Rhys and twirl them in the great dark sky forever and ever. “Wouldn’t let bad shit happen t’ya. Y’know that.”

The taller man seemed to soften at that and Sal felt himself get pulled closer, let himself gently nudge his head against the other’s and closed his eyes. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, just him and Rhys and the stars that would burn on until they didn’t.

“I love yer Sal.” Rhys muttered against him, parts touching where their lips would have been and Sal wondered if the other man liked being so far away from what he originally ever was. “I know yer wouldn’t, no matter what.” Sal wanted to scoff at that and tell Rhys that maybe he would so there, nyehh. But...fuck, he was sappy and he just shrugged and squeezed tighter around his neck.

“Yeah, I...love you too, Moonie.” He squirmed slightly, feeling small in more ways than just physical and wanted to melt into everything that Rhys wanted and be it for him. Be what Rhys wanted and needed.

That is, until Rhys spun him and made Sal squeal. He’ll never forgive that pale and lovable dummy for that....until tonight. For now, they grinned and cuddled in the air while Dae waited on the ground below, blankets and hot drinks waiting for when Rhys returned back to normal.

**********

When Rhys squealed in joy, Mahogany chuffed in delighted and ran faster. They were large and wild looking, a long whipped tail swinging around as their toes, padded and hoofed at the back. Their mouth was long and dripping thick drool but the most impressive thing was their horns. Flesh and bone twisted together to form roots against the thick mane of their hair, hair that wrapped around their sweet little mate to keep him safe against the winds and speed they ran at.

They ran past trees that bent slowly as they ran and the wendigo fluffed up when they began to slow down, padding softly by the trees and letting their horns brush against the bark. They could feel Rhys panting in excitement as he ran fingers through their tangles and Mahogany trilled when he leaned down and gave a kiss to their head.

“Magni, thank yer! How’d yer know dat I’d always wanted t’ride yer?” He grinned and Mahogany beamed at his sweet red cheeks. He felt so warm on them and they just wanted to roll him over and cuddle and kiss and do everything sweet and loving with Rhys. He was everything to them and Mahogany wanted to share the freedom that they always had and Rhys always deserved. It still infuriated them that his old pack had been awful because Rhys was perfect and deserved a pack of wildly different and perfect people who just wanted to love him.

“Don’ yer al’ways wan’nah ride me?” They grinned when they could smell Rhys’s sweet scent turning slightly spicy. Another thing they adored about him was how easily Rhys was happy to love and and ravish with them (another word they had learnt from him and Sal was happy to give them a physical show of it). As their lover shifted off of them, the wendigo brushed their cheek against his puffer jacket, pulling up the hood to make sure that the fur inside the hood kept their sweet little bunny warm. “Yer wan’nah go walkin’ near t’lakes? I can catch a bird an’ even not eat it!”

Rhys smiled and they felt a flutter in their stomach. “Aye, sounds wonderful baby. As long as t’birds aren’t in pain, yea?” Mahogany nodded and pushed their head into his arms, huffing in a pleased manner when he squeezed them. “Aye!”

Their mate grinned and Mahogany butted heads softly with him, purring as he let their hair tangled around his arm and led them off through the woods and home. They loved their big and impressive pack and Mahogany wanted to be with all of them always but they adored being able to stare at Rhys’s amazement when they reached the lake and Mahogany taught Rhys to catch his own fish. Wulf insisted that it was cooked and made them sulk until Dae agreed to eat the fish raw with them.

**********

“Alight, this is Billy...” Pascal handed the american short hair into Rhys’s arms, beaming when he heard a noise of delight come from the other man as the kitten mewed. “Billy Meowish.”

The gasp of delight turned to a groan and Pascal took that as his cue to press a kiss to his very beautiful boyfriend’s cheek. “I love it when you spend time with me. And tell me that you love me. And hold me. An-” He wasn’t silenced by a kiss, but rather a small paw being pressed to his lips.

“’Scal, yer too cute and I love yer! I’ve wanted t’meet yer kittens all week after yer told me!” Rhys grinned and this time the other blind man leaned up to kiss him. God, he knew Rhys was short because of bad reasons but still....he was small and Pascal loved his tiny boyfriends. They lifted like the sweetest dogs and it made him melt every time.

“Thanks, I know I usually show you the dogs but I figured that maybe you’d like to see the cats? I know Ferret is basically a little cat and you have Zuko...And Mahogany. But! More cats the-”

“The meowrrier?”

“Exactly!” Oh my god, he was going to marry this man. Someone who finished his awful puns without any future vision? He really was in love with the hottest fae around. Pascal beamed and wrapped an arm around his lover’s waist, using his other hand to give a little scritch-scratch to baby Billy’s head. The kitten squirmed in pale arms and looked up with big eyes that Pascal assumed were blue still. “You’re perfect, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Aye, plenty of times by plenty of people I adore.” Rhys said and Pascal had no choice but to go awww and press his forehead against Rhys’s, moving his hand away from Billy and curling a finger through beautiful white hair that went in his mouth every time he slept next to Rhys and woke up. There was nothing more he wanted than to be able to wake up near this man every day for the rest of his life.

Pascal sighed and kissed the beautiful man, smiling into his lips. “Well, I’m glad we can do that for you. Gotta put our asses to some use, am I right?” He wiggled his free hand’s fingers in a magical gesture, pumping his eyebrows for some extra measure, despite the fact that neither of them could see it. “Besides, I was thinking that later tonight...we could take Korra out and eat fast food in the park? They’re gonna be playing Disney movies and I definitely did not bend them into playing treasure island followed by Lilo and Stitch...”

It was wonderful to see the smile on Rhys’s face get even bigger and yeah, he was rather proud of thinking of something so romantic. He liked being able to live up to the levels of Wulf and Dae, even if he was the height halfway for the both of them. He was looking forward to a romantic night where they could have good food, good movies and their sweet little daughter snoring softly nearby. But speaking of daughters...

“Y’know, looking after these kittens is great practice for when Magpie finally milks some kids out of us.”

Rhys choked and Pascal took Billy off him when the little guy started to squirm in discomfort. One thing better than how gorgeous Rhys looked when he smiled was how cute he was when he blushed.

**********

“Now this is what I’ve been want’in,” Rhys moaned when he slid into Mahogany. “All dis’ time.”

“Well...ya could’a said, Moonstar.” Sal scoffed but he was cut of when Wulf (gently) pulled his hair back to kiss the shorter man. He moaned when his lip was roughly bit before gasping when Wulf lifted him and placed him on top of Mahogany’s face. “Wha- Wulf!” The hybrid glared because Windy Wendy knew that he didn’t appreciate being manhandled like that.

But before he could yell at the big lug, Sal was cut off by a flustered moan when the wendigo started to lick happily, filling him up with their broad tongue as pale hands came up to hold his thighs and keep him sitting on his face.��“Aye, what our sweet star says, little love. Even from his little throne.” His joke got a snort from Rhys but they all knew Wulf would be paying dearly for that later on.

Rhys smiled sweetly, leaning down to take Sal’s ridged cock into his mouth (no one could convince Sal yet that they loved him as he was. Wulf could see where he and Rhys had so much in common). Meanwhile, Wulf had finally taken up his position, admiring Rhys’s beautiful back, stunning thighs and positively enchanting behind. He groaned softly as he began to push in to the warmth of Rhys’s hole. Odin’s beard he was tight, Dae had really taken the time to stretch Rhys out and Wulf would kiss the diamond-studded man for it if he could.

Speaking of, their sweet redhead was squirming between Pascal and Lace, looking rather flushed as Pascal murmured praises into his ears while Lewis moved and circled his palm slowly and hard into Dae’s crotch. Suddenly there was a loud crack from Dae’s....special place and all heads whipped around, Wulf and Rhys already being ready to pull out and rush over to check over their most sensitive boyfriend.

But rather than suddenly screaming in pain, Dae had begun to moan loudly before his voice cut out and he silently squirmed and slumped against their monster lover, legs twitching as Pascal grinned and slowly rolled his hips into the scarred man’s.

“...Well shit.” Sal blinked and started to laugh before it cut off when Mahogany took their cue to stretch their tongue into him, rolling and curling it against his inner walls. The wendigo rolled their hips and seemed to chuff in delight as Sal gently rolled his hips on their face, whining as they gave an affectionate kiss to his pretty and warm little hole. They felt Rhys’s shadows start to play at their useless hole, making them spread their legs wider in order to take more of Rhys’s love. They couldn’t wait for the first pup to make their pack even bigger. Especially when their pack’s siblings came to visit. “Did anyone know if tha-that’s a g-good thing or not?”

“I hope it is,” Rhys frowned, pulling away from a whining Sal. “We’ll give him a thorough check later, yea?” The frown turned into a small smirk and oh, a lot of stomachs in that room were suddenly flipping at that moment.

“Aye. But for now?” Wulf thrusted his hips and the sound of Rhys’s moan set a heat into his stomach and Wulf knew that their little lover wasn’t going to last long at everything going on around him. Let alone the feeling of being filled so nicely in his ass and mouth, let alone the tight and soaking cold he was being pounded into lovingly. “We’re going to ensure you know how deeply we care for you and to give you every inch of our affections aye?”

“Aye.” Rhys grinned before Sal pushed back into his mouth and started to thrust at a hard pace while Wulf gave slow rolls. Mahogany whined, feeling themself drip as their own holes got filled nicely as Dae whined when Lace began to fuck him, his body shifting to molten lava, which was perfect for Pascal to fuck into as he could easily stand the heat, having a sun within him after all.

And in an hour, they would argue over who wooed Rhys best and then get laughed at for how goofy they all where. And then gang up on a squealing Dae in order to check him over and properly thank him for the breakfast he cooked despite it being Wulf and Lace’s turn today.

#blind-mutant #He speaks of holy fates (Pascal)#riding the wild winds (Wulf)#The living stardust (Sal)#His fear will set you free (Lace)#The monster of forgotten midnights (Mahogany)#diamond of the rough (Dae)#a hhh happy birthday!!!#I didn't know WHEN exactly it was so I put it down on the 2nd #ily and wanted ur boy to be wooed by a harem of dumbasses #lemon #omg I'm sORRY for not talking to u but I was focusing on finishing this #I started yesterday got to 3am and then slept until 1 oof #god i got babey at the thoughts of everyone fighting for Rhys and then he has a brain cell for once and just dates them all #skskks oof and don't give anyone to Magni because that's how we end up with five kids padding about #is it bad that i already have headcanons about this all sksk

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trade-baby-blues · 6 years ago

Text

The White Elephant in the Room

Pairing: Bones x Reader

Word Count: 2237

Warnings: none, probably a swear in there somewhere

A/N: Based on the prompt “Character A’s best friend rigs the Secret Santa, because they know Character A has a crush on Character B” requested by @magicalaquarian. Hope you enjoy!!

After two years travelling through space with nothing but the stark white walls of the Enterprise to look at, the crew was getting restless. Shore leave was still months away, and, frankly you didn't know if you could take it. You didn't think Jim could either. He was in Medbay almost every other day with a new “injury,” though more than once you caught him faking to shirk his duties for the day. While you were happy for a distraction, Dr. McCoy looked ready to kill Jim at any moment.

As the doors to the Medbay slid open for the first time today, you jumped out of your chair, hoping with all your heart and soul that someone needed help with a traumatic injury, not stopping to wonder if that made you a bad person. At this point, you were so bored you were willing to inflict one upon yourself just for the hell of it. To your dismay, it was just Jim. You sat back down with a sigh, returning to the scribbles you were doodling on a patient's chart.

“Gee, you sure know how to make a guy feel welcome,” Jim quipped.

At the sound of a new voice, Dr. McCoy poked his head out of his office. His excitement turned to a scowl as he saw Jim. He glared at Jim with a pointed “No,” before shutting his door again.

“Oh, come on. I’m not even sick today.”

“That's the problem,” you mumbled.

“I’m sorry. Would it be better if I came back with broken legs?”

“Broken legs. Crashed the ship. Caused a minor outbreak of some foreign disease,” you shrugged. “I’m not picky.”

“So let me get this right. You're mad at me because I'm too good of a captain?”

You dropped your head onto the desk, groaning in frustration. “We’re mad because we have nothing to do.”

Jim sidled up to the side of the desk, mischievous glint in his eye. “You and Bones could give each other physicals.”

“We already did that,” you confessed, cheeks heating up.

“Well, then, I guess you'll just have to come to my quarters tonight.”

“For the last time Jim, I am not having sex with you.”

“I...It's not...Scotty said the same thing. Why does everyone think I want to have sex with them?” Jim looked genuinely hurt. “It's a party but you're not invited anymore.”

“What time does it start,” you called after him as he walked back to the Medbay doors.

“9 p.m. Oh,” Jim said, popping his head back inside, “and bring a present. It's a white elephant.”

You stared at the now empty doorway in confusion. The doors slid shut with almost no sound, allowing your voice to carry across the empty room. “What the fuck is a white elephant?”

Dr. McCoy sat back at his desk with a sigh, the paperwork in front of him dwindling thin. The past few weeks had been exceptionally quiet, and he’d managed to catch up on all the charts he’d let slip by. He even had time to read a few articles he’d bookmarked months ago on the future of robot-assisted surgeries. As much as he appreciated how far technology had come, Leonard was happy to stick with a human surgical assist for now. Especially, if that assistant was you. How you looked so damn good in OR scrubs Leonard would never understand.

His PADD chimed, bringing Leonard back to reality. Jim again. He rolled his eyes, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows and diving back into paperwork. Another chime. Leonard glared at the PADD, as if that would stop Jim from pestering him. Another chime. Annoyed, he grabbed the device.

Party at my room at 9!

That's an order ;)

Oh, and bring a present for your not so secret crush! We’re doing a gift exchange.

Leonard resisted the urge to snap the PADD in two as he responded: Stop by for a physical. Must be something wrong with that corn-fed head of yours if you think I want to spend my night with you.

Jim responded almost instantly: :(

Bones stared at the text practically able to feel the puppy dog eyes Jim was giving him through the screen. It had been a long time since he’d had the chance to unwind, and an evening with Jim might actually be tolerable if you were there. Painfully, he typed his reply: There better be Scotch.

No sooner had he sent the message than there was a knock on his door. “Damn it, Jim,” he sighed, shoving himself up from his desk, “What is it? I already said I’d go to your damn party.”

“Sorry,” you said, popping your head around the door. “Not Jim.”

Bones scoffed. “That’s nothing to be sorry for, sugar. I’d take your company over his any day.”

You bit your lip to hide a smile. “Jim’s actually the reason I’m bothering you. I wanted to ask if I could take off early to find a gift for his elephant thing.”

“Gee, don’t know if I’ll be able to handle all these patients on my own,” Bones said wryly.

“Well, you are the CMO. I believe in you,” you said with a wink. “See you at the party?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Bones waved you off, already heading back to his desk. You laughed. He really was adorable when he was grumpy.

“Oh, and Len,” you said, missing the way his ears always perked up when you called him that, “maybe break out the civvies this time. Med Blues make people nervous.”

You looked around your quarters in a desperate attempt to find inspiration. It’s not like you thought to pack gifts when you started the mission. There were a few books you’d already read through that could use a new home, but you doubted anyone would be interested in Mountains to Ash: A Field Guide to the Geology of Ragnar 9, although, the section on teracalcite formation was quite compelling...

“This is stupid,” you muttered, dropping yourself on the bed. You stared at the ceiling, begging it to give you an answer. You wondered what kind of gifts everyone else would bring. Jim probably wouldn’t bring anything, making a joke about how his presence was gift enough. Then he’d offer someone a few days off and everyone would scramble for it. Scotty would probably throw together a little sculpture out of scrap metal from Engineering. No one saw that side of him much, but Scotty was really artsy.

Then, there was Leonard. He was normally such a thoughtful gift giver when given enough time. Last shore leave, he found a galaxy opal pendant for you at a market. You still remembered how his hands felt brushing the back of your neck when he put it on you, how they lingered a few seconds too long. How warm his breath felt ghosting over the back of your neck. An inch closer and his chest would’ve been pressed against you and it would have been so easy to turn around and kiss him like you’ve wanted to do for so long.

“I need a drink,” you said to the empty room, running a hand down your face. Suddenly, you shot up, remembering the bottle of whiskey you had stashed in the back of your closet. Hopefully everyone else was feeling as stir-crazy as you and wouldn’t mind a bit was missing.

Having finally settled on a gift, you started getting ready, allowing yourself plenty of time to shower and get dressed but still managing to wind up at Jim’s door out of breath and late. You smoothed the front of your dress down and focused on leveling your breathing as the door slid open. Your eyes met Leonard’s and, just like that, you were out of breath again.

It was a simple outfit, but god did he wear it well. His t-shirt hung loosely from his shoulders, front tucked into a pair of dark blue jeans that clung to his thighs like they were painted on. You sure wouldn’t mind sitting on those. “You know how to clean up,” you smiled, taking the opportunity to lean up and press a kiss to Leonard’s cheek. The smell of his cologne left you lightheaded in all the right ways.

“Mama always said dress to impress.”

“Oh, and who are you trying to impress,” you teased. You saw the faintest blush creep into Leonard’s cheeks, but before he could answer, Jim was whisking the two of you to the kitchenette.

Everyone was sitting around the island, already a few drinks in and eager to see what gift they were going to get. Jim divvied them out, sliding you a small package poorly wrapped in elastic bandage. “From your secret admirer,” he winked at you. Busy studying the package, you missed Bones kick Jim under the counter.

The gift exchange was more fun than you thought it would be. Chekov got an unopened box of Kit Kats that sent the room into an uproar. It was stolen five times before Jim threw his captain card into the ring and claimed it for himself. He almost immediately regretted it when he had to give up his present, which turned out to be the bottle of whiskey you’d anted up.

After a lot of squabbling, everyone opened their presents and all eyes were on you. You grabbed the end of the bandage and began unwrapping the parcel in your hand. You knew it was from Bones, and for that reason alone you were loathe to give it up. As you reached the end of the bandage, a small booklet fell onto the countertop.

Handmade was the nicest way to describe it: the pages were uneven and stuck out at odd angles from being stapled together in a hurry. To anyone else, the script would barely be legible, but you had plenty of practice deciphering Leonard’s chicken scratch.

“It's a coupon book,” you announced, thumbing through the pages. “Ooh, you might want this one Jim. It says you can put off the yearly physical for up to a month. No, no this one’s better. It says Leonard will actually smile for an entire day.”

“Lemme see that,” Jim said, already tearing the book from your hands. He stopped flipping through it and snapped his eyes up to Leonard’s face, grinning devilishly. “A full body massage in your private quarters. Bones. If I didn't know any better I’d say you were trying to get our good friend here naked.” Bones closed his eyes but remained silent. The flare of his nostrils and tightening of his jaw said enough.

“Oh, I want that,” Sulu cut in. “I am in desperate need of a massage.” He reached across the counter to grab the book from Jim but you reached it first.

“Take it and you’ll need more than a massage to set you straight.”

Sulu remained in place, looking from you to Jim hesitantly. “Is that a gay joke or…” Uhura coughed loudly, grabbing his attention. She whispered something in his ear and he glanced from you to Bones. “That makes so much sense. Never mind,” he grinned. “I’ll find a masseuse when we go on leave.”

You held the book tighter against your chest as you looked around the room. Every eye was on you or Leonard. Everyone seemed to be grinning at an inside joke the two of you weren’t in on. Well, everyone except Bones, who looked as uncomfortable as you did.

“Right,” you said, clicking your tongue to dispel the silence. “So I’m gonna go.” You inched away from the counter, waving awkwardly.

“Yeah, I think I, uh. I think I’m gonna join ya,” Bones said, trying his best to ignore the scattered snickers that followed.

You waited until you were far enough down the hall to be confident no one was listening in before you spoke again: “What was that all about?”

“Nothing Jim isn’t gonna pay for later. Look, I…” Leonard sighed, stopping in the middle of the hallway. He ran a hand through his hair and you had to bite back a whine. It really was unfair that he looked so good, even under fluorescent lights. “Jim told me the gift was for you, and I couldn’t think of anything else. You don’t have to use those coupons if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, I want to. As much as you joke about your legendary hands, it’s about time I got to try them out.”

“No, that’s not - what I’m trying to get at is-”

“Leonard,” you said gently, resting your hand on his elbow. You slid your fingers down his bare arm, relishing in the way your fingertips felt running over his skin. You watched your fingers interlock as if through a looking glass. Like this was a dream and you never wanted to wake up. “I think I know what you’re getting at, and if it’s okay with you, I think I’d like to cash in on that full body massage tonight.” You peeked up at him through your lashes.

Leonard squeezed your hand, fighting against every nerve in his body that was screaming at him to run you back to his room. Instead, he brushed his thumb against the back of your hand, wondering if the rest of your skin would feel so electric. “I think that can be arranged.”

Tags: @8bit-arc-reactor @jimtkirkisabitch @sjlovestory @kristaparadowski @outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @thefanficfaerie @brooke-taylor0323 @slither-in-a-half @cuddlememerrick @reading-in-moonlight @resistance-is-futile81

This! Is a galaxy opal:

#star trek imagine #bones x reader #leonard mccoy imagine #leonard mccoy x reader #bones imagine #my fics #christmas follower celebration

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