#like. my hair is straight baby. after 1 day has passed after washing it i look like i dumped my head in oil | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tommyspeakycap · 3 years ago

Note

omgg write something about playing or braiding jack’s hair

oh em gee I love this !!!!! I loved his hair braid too omg

Jack had a very specific barber he liked to go to to get the same quality haircut he always got. He trusted that specific barber and his appointments were always made in advance to absolutely ensure he could get it done the way he liked by whom he liked at the right time so it never got overgrown or hard to manage. Jack was very specific about his hair and about keeping it the way he liked it to be. It was part of his image, part of him really. The Brummie boy hated when anyone else touched it. Be that joking team members giving his head a teasing push or his dad ruffling his hair each time he walks in the door, it irks the living daylights right out of him.

So it seems as though it’s Jack’s own personal nightmare now the barbers are shut with absolutely no sign of opening up for at least another month and Jack can’t seem to take one minute more of training with his hair getting all up in his eyes, dropping into his face and blowing wildly in Birmingham wind even with a headband in. It is driving him absolutely insane. It’s all he can think of in this moment.

And that is because he currently has your fingers tangled in it completely absentmindedly as he lays in between with your legs with his legs stretched out along the L section of the L shaped couch. Your eyes are fully focussed on the storyline evolving throughout an old episode of Greys Anatomy. Jack’s arms are around your torso as his head rests comfortably on your lower stomach with his eyes peacefully shut. He would usually engage in the TV with you, but the preseason after an unexpected break that had him doing less exercise than he definitely should have been doing had him absolutely shattered.

It was rare for even you to touch the locks he took so laughably serious, but it felt like the most soothing experience he’d maybe ever had to feel the gentility of your finger massaging over his scalp in the most relaxing manner he’d ever known. Even his sports massages after long matches weren’t this relaxing.

“Mmmhm, feels so good.” He murmurs, his voice ticking your stomach as he speaks against it, the sigh that leaves him making you giggle in response. “So annoyin’ in training.” He adds tiredly, but not lacking in the obvious irritation he feels towards it. Jack tends to feel a lot and often, and even seemingly small things like his hair getting in the way of his play was unimaginably irritating for him.

“I could cut it?” You suggest.

“Yeah,” he snorts, “And end up like the poor dog? I’ll pass love.”

“Aw come on! It wasn’t that bad.” You retort

“He looked like a street rat with curls, sweetheart.” He laughs, despite the disappointment he feels for your hands leaving his hair for the first time since he lay down tonight.

“Cheek.”

“Sorry baby.” He lulls, finally looking up at you for the first time, lifting his face to offer you a smile that strained him. Holding his head up like that was too much for his already tired muscles, so he’s quickly laying his head back to its resting place. You can’t think of anything else to retort with, knowing full and well the incredibly poor state of affairs that occurred in your household three weeks into Lockdown 1 after you attempted to give the dog a haircut out of pure boredom and lack of open dog grooming services. The state of affairs being Jack crawling to the bathroom on his knees and one hand with the other hand holding onto his crotch because he was trying so hard not to wet himself from laughing at the poor pup who looked so confused that his dad hadn’t been able to greet him as normal when he returned from the weekly food shop.

Jack very nearly did piss on your good cream carpet that day, so it was fair for him to not trust your barber skills either. Especially being the way he is about his hair.

“You know the old episodes make me miss Derek.” You announce after a moment of only the television speaking between the two of you.

“He the one with the hair?” Jack mumbles. You snort a laugh.

“They’ve all got hair, Jack. Go on, say it then?”

“Fine,” he huffs indignantly, “The one with the good hair.”

Your giggle makes his heart erupt into butterflies that dance through his stomach and chest just like it does every single time he gets to be lucky enough to hear it. Jack doesn’t like to admit when others have hair he likes. He prefers to live in a world where his hairstyle is simply the best, and truly he usually does. He tends to live in his own world anyway. The world where his hair is fantastic, he gets to do what he loves for a living and come home to you each and every day. That’s his world and fucking hell does he love that world.

In reality though, part of that world is that however fictional Derek Shepherd may be, his hair is fantastic and always looks rather immaculate. Something Jack can’t quite relate to at this current moment in time. “You know this episode is kinda about his hair,” you note softly, hands smoothing back over your boyfriends brown locks. He knows by the tone of your voice that you’re going to go into more detail about the episode currently playing through on Amazon Prime TV. Some people may well have been annoyed listening to their girlfriends recounting entire episodes of TV shows that they weren’t exactly inclined to watch, but Jack was not one of those men. He didn’t care what you were talking about, just the sound of you talking was enough to make him listen intently. He loved to hear you talk, and if that was the only thing that he ever got to hear for the rest of his life then he’d still be happy.

“They adopted a little girl and he hasn’t quite figured her hair out yet but everyone’s shocked ‘cause his hairs pretty good. Like you, a little. You got good hair, just haven’t learned to manage it yet eh?” You explain, weaving your fingers in and out of those stands of hair that make him hum in both understanding and enjoyment. He isn’t sure what you’re doing, but the weaving of stands, pads of your fingers dancing over his scalp carefully, softly feels like what he might imagine heaven to be. “Yeah?” He asks, “And what does he do then?” His voice is filled with genuine interest for what you were saying. It was the first time you’d ever known that in a relationship. He heard you snigger softly to yourself. “He learns from someone who knows a bit more about hair than he does.” You state pointedly, prompting him to roll his eyes even if you can’t see him.

“I’m not letting you cut my hair, (y/n). Not happening, I’m sor-“

“Alright, Jack. I bloody know! That’s not what I meant.” You grumble. Jack can immediately imagine your disgruntled pout already, with those irritated narrowed eyes and the playful scrunch of your nose. “Sorry.” Every time he sees that look on you, he moves to kiss that furrow out of your nose. It makes his heart smile each and every time he sees it. You are simultaneously the most beautiful, more adorable and hottest woman he has ever laid his eyes on. “Sorry baby,” he reiterated, “Go on.”

“I could braid it for you?”

That earns a belly laugh from him that reverberates through your body, jostling with the force of his whole body laughter. “So you will,” he bellows in breaks between the ever comedic gasping from breath after each loud laugh. “Not a chance.”

He pushes himself up to sit back on his knees, trapping your legs between his as he looks down at you with a huge grin still stretching his lips and creasing his eyes, yet they still sparkle in adoration for you. “Oh yeah?” You muse with a giggle to follow despite the firm attempt to seal it behind clenched lips. The giggle sets those dimples into your cheeks, his eyes just drinking you up as you lounge back on the huge couch there in front of him, sinking back into the pillows just like he had been sinking against you in comfort for hours only moments ago. “Yeah.” He repeats firmly, the playful jest of his words not lost on your ears as he leans forward.

With the emission of only a small, surprised yelp from you that turns the head of the dog in his bed for only a moment, Jack has grabbed your legs to tug you down so you were laying flat on your back on the L of the sofa. He leans over you, hands and strong arms keeping him above you with ease. “Realllly?” You tease, one eyebrow quirked. Jack loves it when you do that, mostly because he can’t and he finds it beautifully funny.

Your hands reach up to his face, cupping over the beard on his cheeks to bring his face down to peck his lips before letting him press back up like a simple press up over your body. This was a common occurrence between the pair of you and Jack had always loved to show off. “Not cuttin’ about with a braid in my hair baby, sorry.”

He dips down for another kiss and you break out another giggle that parts your lips from his. “You already are, bub.”

“Ya what?” He pops straight up, sitting again back on his knees. “Not falling over your face now eh?” You taunt with a cheeky grin that makes him furrow his brows. Jack removed his hands from beside you to run one after the other over the top of his hair, a weird mix of a grin and disbelief washing over his face. Your sweetheart smile warms his heart as you lay there looking up at him with tired eyes and a lazy smile, cheeks flushed and one of his old cotton shirts keeping you warm long after his body raises from yours.

“Wait there!” He yells, bounding off the couch to all but leap through the living room until he reaches the mirror in the hall just outside the door. “Babe!” He cheers through the house, appearing back in the doorway of the room. “Nah it’s kinda cool, you fuckin’ smashed that!” You sit up and turn around towards him with your hand covering your mouth in a giggle that makes him stride forward and tug your hand away so he can see that beautiful smile. He jumps back again. “And look; stays in when I move around like-”

An immediate howl of laughter breaks out of your mouth with your head tipped back in hysterics as you watch him run on the spot, jump on the spot and then shake his head around like your puppy when he had a cone on his head. You laugh so hard your laughter looses its noise, simply existing as a elongated wheeze and a sudden gasp for desperate air to aid and allow for only more laughter. “Why you laughing for?” He yells, his words split by his own laughter as he tugs you to your feet, standing taller than him when your on your feet on the couch. Jack wraps one arm around your waist and moves the other down to the bend of your knees to sweep your legs from beneath you, perching you on the edge of the back of the couch.

“It,” kiss, “is,” kiss, “perfect.” Kiss.

“Just like you, baby.” He rumbles lowly, “Perfect just like my girl. Gonna wear it to training. Keep hair out my face, remind me of you, perfect.” He just keeps talking, keeps praising you between kisses while he brings you closer and closer to him until you can wrap your legs around him. Locked in place, he takes your face in his hands.

“So you’ll let me braid it again?” You chime, eyes lighting up. Jack chuckles, thumbs smoothing over your cheeks with a kiss pressed to the tip of your nose. “Course baby. Every day.”

True to his word Jack Grealish is. Every night he comes home from his training, he’s laying on the couch letting you massage the days stresses out of his mind, letting your fingers weave the tension out of his scalp. Jack’s never let anyone take care of him so much. He’s never felt comfortable to be taken care of like this, but you are his exception. His one single exception. And every morning he sits in the floor at the foot of the bed while you sit with a leg on either side of him, fingers weaving the strands into place for the day and tighter for match days. People make comments but Jack doesn’t give even half of a shit. His hair is how he likes it; out of his face so he can concentrate on his game and it gives you more of a reason to actually be up in the morning when he leaves before the sun rises above you. That’s perfect for Jack.

Until his next haircut, the only time that footballer doesn’t have a braid through his hair is when your fingers are tangling in it while he’s between your legs for another very enjoyable reason.

#jack grealish imagines #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish x reader #england national team imagine #england national team #jack grealish #jack grealish blurb #jack grealish prompt #footballer fics

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1kook · 4 years ago

Text

attachment: 1 image

— jjk x (f) reader

summary; But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere. warnings; sexting, dick pics, dirty talk?, phone sex, vivid depictions of jungkook being just so sexy bc its true, rating; mature (18+) misc; mentions of youtuber kook 🥰, he’s just horny, stupid selfie trends (see here), he’s a little whiny but so hot v.v wc; 4.6k

notes; I've had this in my drafts since april 😐 n then i was like maybe we should actually finish this so i started n then last night i hit another follower milestone!!! so then i rlly forced myself to finish this bc i was so 🥺🖤👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anyway enjoy lmk what u think its not proofread bc uhhhhh yeah 🤩

You’re at work when it happens.

It’s sometime between your usual listless thoughts of what to write for your weekly reflection papers for some course, and your trip to your store’s pharmacy to bother a coworker. Your phone vibrates in the pocket of your work apron. You’re normally pretty good at ignoring the sound, most of the times it’s just a classmate asking for help on homework or Jimin lamenting his love life, so you’ve grown used to ignoring the tiny vibrations, stocking a quarter shelf of different cooking oils before something in your brain tells you to check your phone.

You already know it’s not something grave, but that thought alone means nothing at the sight of the tiny jungkook♡ that appears at the very top of the list of notifications. Your boyfriend’s texts tended to be wildcards, never following a certain routine or alluding to any specifics. He could send you a long paragraph on how much he misses the scent of that one shampoo, the one you’d briefly run through last year because your usual brand was out of stock, with a ten point explanation on why you should switch back to it. Or two word, caveman sentences that drove you crazy because you never understood what exactly he wanted when he’d send those nondescript “munchies dip” texts.

You unlock your phone, clicking to the messenger app instead of directly on the notification. Hopefully the preview will give some warning on whether you should invest in this conversation or not. You hated the read receipts on messages, choosing to ghost conversations as you pleased, but Jungkook had wiggled his way into your phone one afternoon and specifically turned them on for his chat with you, and you’d never turned them off since. So he knows if you choose to ignore Attachment: 1 Image at 1:43pm exactly, and he'll pester you about it until you respond.

You contemplate it all for twenty seconds. It could be a variety of things, you guess, but the only way to find out is to actually see with your own eyes what he’s up to this time. He knows better than to distract you at work, is usually really good at waiting until your shift is over to spam you with messages. For him to send you something now, only a few hours into your shift, is uncharacteristic of him.

But you glance down the aisle anyway, taking note of some elderly woman you’d helped a few minutes prior and another teenager aimlessly walking around, probably looking for the snack aisle. You inhale and press down on your chat with Jungkook.

It takes you a moment to make out exactly what the image is, twisting and turning your phone around as you fight to see it without raising the brightness. It’s only when your eyes finally adjust to the dark screen, the faint beeping of the check-out registers fading into the distance, that you realize it’s a shot of the front of his sweatpants.

“Hm?” you murmur, getting brave enough to pinch the image between two fingers, zooming in until you’re able to decipher a multitude of details. For one, there’s a Flaming Hot Cheeto stain on the hem of his sweatpants, the same one you’d accidentally put on there a few weeks back and haven’t been able to wash out since. Then there’s that huge palm of his, tattoos and all, rested carefully against his thigh. It’s veiny and thick in all the right places, bringing all the attention to his knuckles, which you guess is what he was going for when you consider the centerpiece of the image—his hardened dick straining against the grey material.

There’s no text attached to the message, no snapchat font slapped over the image, so you wonder what exactly he wanted you to do with this information mid-shift. Well, realistically, you know exactly what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you won’t clown him before getting there. After all, Jungkook was seldom the naughty texter; sexting annoyed him, he would whine, because he would do all that and not even get to feel the true pleasure of sex, of being inside you. You’ve dabbled in it here and there, but it never went as perfectly as it did in pornos. He’d drop his phone and forget it, or you would straight up ignore the damn device as you went all in on yourself.

But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere.

you what’s this about?

You decide to play it safe, because as exciting as the image of Jungkook at his computer chair, cock hard and angry at the thought of you, fluffy hair ruffled in that way you adored, jaw twitching and tightening as he touched himself, moaned deep and rough and just how you liked and—

As nice as that image was, for all you knew this vague message was Jungkook sending you a picture from a week ago to purposefully fuck with you at work.

jungkook♡ what time u get off? jungkook♡ miss you bad baby

Your stomach flips, and it takes everything in you to not squeal and bounce between the shelves like a toddler on a sugar rush. Here was your boyfriend, the cutest, sweetest boy, sending you dirty pictures of himself and telling you how much he needed you. Yes, YOU, not some random on the street, or someone else in a club, Jungkook needed pleasure and that pleasure could only come from you.

You glance back down the aisle again, checking your surroundings for the second time that day. You’ve been standing here, stock cart empty for a little over five minutes now, so it’s probably best to change location lest your manager come barking down your neck. You send one quick text before heading off for stock again.

you 4pm :(

Your phone dings again just as you’re leaving the stockroom, but you decide to check it once you get to the hygiene aisle you need to work on next. Still, the prospect of Jungkook having texted you has you walking with a skip in your step, one your coworker teases you about when you pass by her.

jungkook♡ fuck jungkook♡ tell me what panties youre wearing jungkook♡ please ?

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from smiling at the tone you’d picked up from his message. There was no doubt he’d been riled up for a while now, and you wonder if he sat through his usual Saturday morning streams with his cock hard, pushed against the edge of his desk like you knew he did when such things happened. The thought has you nearly fumbling with a bottle of aloe vera.

you seamless black thong you the one you bought me at the last vs sale

Briefly, you wonder if you should have lied and told him you were wearing that red lace set he’d given you last Valentine’s Day, the one he’d bought with his first big YouTube check. But the beauty of being in a relationship with someone like Jungkook is that you could have told him you were wearing grandma undies and he’d still think you were the most beautiful person to grace the planet.

jungkook♡ mm jungkook♡ tiny ones u ruined last time?

You set your phone down, speed stock a row of sunscreen like you’re on some shelf stocking national competition, before daring to text Jungkook again. Your cheeks are still warm, and your hand tightens dangerously around a bottle of shaving cream.

Before you can formulate some response, he’s sending another one in.

jungkook♡ u soaked those jungkook♡ came fast that day jungkook♡ want u so bad

Your cheeks burn, a little embarrassed that he remembers such details. As with all Victoria’s Secret panties, they were, like Jungkook said, extremely thin. You pause, shift your stance just barely, but you’re definitely wet. Not terribly so, but with this fabric, you’d start to notice it sooner than with others.

you mm you makin me wet bunny

It’s not a complete lie, but knowing Jungkook this is exactly what he needs to hear to get that competitive streak going. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, stocking another section of men’s shaving cream. It takes longer for him to message you back, and you wonder if he got off fine on his own. If it’s over now, at least he provided you with some distraction midway into your shift.

When he texts you again, you’ve almost completely convinced yourself he’s finished, so the Attachment: 1 Video that appears on your lock screen throws you for a loop.

It’s a short clip, no longer than ten seconds, but it has you scrambling to lower the volume on your device as some unsuspecting mother of two wanders past. You flash her your practiced smile, the same one you give all the store’s customers. Not like your boyfriend is jacking it off on your phone, shallow pants filtering out from the speakers.

You turn your phone over carefully after she leaves, try to at least pretend you’re still doing your job as you play the video again.

Sweats are gone, but boxers remain. Legs deliciously exposed, thick thighs with muscles that ripple when he moves. Shirt pulled up just slightly to showcase that broad expanse of tummy, cute belly button and defined abs that tighten with each glide of his palm over the outline of his cock. Your mouth fills with drool at the sight. He was so hot.

Your brain hasn’t even processed it yet, all your energy directed towards your clenched pussy, when he shoots another text.

jungkook♡ im so fckin hard jungkook♡ wanna kiss yuo every where baby jungkook♡ come ove r soon ??

Shutting your eyes and counting to ten doesn’t help ward off the sudden wave of horniness that consumes you, but it does remind you of the job you’re supposed to be doing now. You shake your head, as if the image of Jungkook’s dick throbbing beneath his boxers, low voice in your ear, will magically disappear. It doesn’t, and it plagues you even more when you begin stocking a section of sunscreen, numbly instructing yourself on what to do next. Shaving cream, sunscreen, lotion next, you repeat.

It doesn’t help.

Two minutes later and you’re scrambling for the phone you’d hastily tucked into your apron pocket, tapping your passcode in until your messages with Jungkook are pulled up again.

you after work you promise

Your head is absolutely spinning, the coil in your stomach too tight for you to try and be a functioning member of society. Something in you says to sneak off to the bathroom and call him, but your boss is a little bit of a prick when he wants to be, thinks you take too many bathroom breaks as is.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A curt call of your name has you whirling to face your shelves again, phone tightly pressed against your ribs like maybe it’ll melt into your skin and he won’t see it. At the same time, your sudden fright has you scrambling to turn it off, fingers sloppily pressing against the buttons, hitting the volume like seven times before you eventually feel the familiar click that signals it’s off.

Your boss disappears shortly after, and with his sudden appearance having made every hair on your body stand, you find yourself now slumping against your stock cart. Jesus, that man was a handful to deal with.

The paranoia sticks for a little bit, has you stocking shelf after shelf like a robot until you finish the entire row of hygiene products, back stiff from bending over so much. It’s only when you return to the stockroom ten minutes later that you dare take your phone out again.

A pleasant surprise awaits.

It would appear that during your haste to hide your phone from your boss— Jungkook’s scandalous messages and all —your frantic hands had done something else. A fuzzy picture on your end, a blurry display of lotion bottles you had stacked just before your boss’s impromptu appearance, with no words to accompany them. Normally Jungkook would have ignored that; you frequently sent accidental messages like this, butt texted him, he says.

But there’s something about Jungkook’s horny brain that makes him do stupid things, makes him blow up your phone with a series of question marks, call you four times, whine and fuss in your message thread, and eventually, send you probably the oddest image to date.

jungkook♡ ??? jungkook♡ ????what is that jungkook♡ baby please jungkook♡ I don’t get it ??

jungkook♡ Missed Call (4)

jungkook♡ baby jungkook♡ what does it mean jungkook♡ please ur drivign me insane jungkook♡ jsut wanna hear yuor voice jungkook♡ fuck please just

And then, there’s another one of those cursed Attachment: 1 Image messages.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. You’ve been dating Jungkook for a few months now, know he had that sort of unique personality most college dropouts turned YouTubers do. But every now and then the absurdity of his actions makes you question him still, makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that pretty head of his to warrant such ideas, makes him balance a bottle of body lotion on the thick outline of his cock like this.

Unlike the first few images, this one was taken in front of a mirror. The blinding fluorescent light in his bathroom paints him in a stark color, has every inch of his pretty face on display for you. Rosy cheeks, dewy skin. Perfectly swollen cock straining beneath his grey boxers, curved up against his hip. Shirt pulled up, finally freeing that expanse of muscles on his abdomen, cute little belly button on display once again. The red material is pulled up to his mouth, pearly white teeth biting down on the fabric, and he’s got this flushed expression on his face.

But the real star of the show isn’t his chiseled abdomen or sexy expression, but the sheer hardness of his dick that lets him balance a bottle of body lotion over it, like a fuckin’ shelf or something. He’s so hard, dick so full beneath his boxers. So big too, the little boxers pulled taught around said engorged cock and thick thighs.

Your brain says to laugh, to tease him for being such a clown even when he’s horny as hell. He won’t take it to heart, will probably laugh along with you and you’ll add it to your still growing list of funny memories.

But your caveman libido says call him, so that’s what you do, ducking down behind a new shipment pallet with a squeak as the phone rings. It only lasts four seconds before he picks up, voice breathy and low, but it sounds so loud in the silence of the stockroom.

He doesn’t even let you get a greeting in. “You like my picture, baby?” he husks. It sounds like he’s right there, right beside you, speaking into your ear. Your pussy throbs at the way he sounds. Paired with the picture from before, it has your body tingling all over.

“What the fuck is that?” you hiss, trying to not let the sudden overflow of arousal leak into your words. Jungkook chuckles.

“What?” he huffs. There’s the brief sound of shuffling, the scratchy noise of his phone presumably being pressed against his shoulder. “I’m so hard, baby,” he sighs before you can pretend to reprimand him any further. “Fuck— you, can you just talk to me?” he groans, and the disgusting sound of him spitting into his palm fills your ear.

Your face feels warm, eyes nervously peering across the stockroom like your boss will suddenly appear now of all times to rip you from this important phone call. The anxiety and arousal mix weirdly, have your leg bouncing but every new movement sends a shock up your aching cunt to your chest, and then out to the tips of your fingers.

“You shouldn’t be doing that when I’m at work,” you murmur hurriedly, moving to nervously bite at your finger. Jungkook moans softly.

“Uh huh,” he says.

The air conditioning turns on and you nearly jump out of your own skin. “Kook,” you stress, frazzled by your own burning arousal and the fear of being caught. Like you said. Weird mix. “I— not when I can’t respond.”

He shudders on the line. “You’re responding now,” he points out. You hate when he’s right. Before you can defend yourself, define what a proper response is in this scenario, he’s beating you to the punch. “Baby,” he whimpers, voice so airy yet low, makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, back unconsciously arching. “Couldn’t stop— fuck.”

Your mouth feels dry, all and any form of lecturing fading from your thoughts as you become consumed in Jungkook’s little whines and whimpers. He talks smoothly, a modern day Casanova, and it’s certainly because of that cult-like harem he’s gathered on YouTube. Teenage girls who kiss his ass, tell him he’s cute and dreamy. Make his ego so big.

But then he gets horny and can barely contain that lisp you tease him about, shivers and melts when you put his cock in your mouth. “Couldn't what, bunny?” you mumble, voice drawn tight because now you were really horny, and it was all his fault.

The nickname makes him mewl prettily, your speaker suddenly going scratchy as he fumbles with his phone. “C- Couldn't stop thinking about you— your mouth,” he admits, and now you’re certain he’d sat through that Saturday morning stream like this. “T- Tits,” he adds, lisp slipping through. “Fuck.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as you remind yourself now was not the time or place to get yourself off. But, well. That didn’t mean you couldn’t get him off. “Sat through your stream like this?” you murmur, circling your kneecap with a trembling finger as if it’ll ward away the raging lust in your abdomen. Jungkook confirms with a breathy moan. “Had all your little fans wondering why you ended so early.”

He groans. “No,” he chokes, voice hot from how much it wavers. “They— I lied,” he confesses out of nowhere, “s- said I had a doctor’s appointment.”

You muffle a giggle into your palm. “Naughty,” you tease. “Too hard to do your job.”

“Just,” he cuts off, voice feathery. He sounds so close and you haven’t even said anything of substantial value yet. “Tell me,” he says quietly, “what to— mmh, what to do.”

A smirk consumes your features. You try to hide it, but there’s no one here anyway so you’re left grinning at an unpacked box of dental floss like a madwoman. “Why?” you inquire playfully, bask in the sad little whimper he responds with. “Shouldn’t you know how to make yourself cum?”

Another groan of frustration, desperation seeping into his tone when he speaks again. “Baby, please,” he begs, and it feels good. Feels nice to have this big YouTuber begging for you like this, whimpering your name like his doesn’t appear on the top 25 most viewed. “Like when you— ah — when you tell me… what to do.”

Your body feels hot, thighs pressing together with each whimper that falls from his lips. “Okay,” you concede, and he audibly moans in relief. “Tip first,” you instruct softly, eyes defocusing as your brain slowly starts to manifest the image of Jungkook spread out on his bed. Thick thighs, grey boxers pulled taught around them, fat cock between his pretty hands, inked knuckles squeezing around his member. You swallow. You can tell exactly when Jungkook does as you say because another muffled moan fills the speaker. “One finger,” you remind him quickly, head spinning from the mere memory of his dick. “Run it… run it over the slit, bunny.”

“Nngh—“ Jungkook sputters. You can only imagine the face he’s making now, the bottom lip he’s bitten raw by now. He does it a lot; it’s a nervous habit. But as sexy as it looks when you’re in bed, you know he has sensitive lips because of it, bleeds easily if he’s too harsh. You have half the mind to remind him about it now, but then he’s hurriedly gasping out for more. “And, and then? Wha— what then, baby?”

He sounds so sweet, melodic voice dripping with honey. “Touch your balls,” you say a little breathlessly. “Don’t squeeze,” you add, “just roll your palm over them.” Your palm squeezes against your thigh, as if it’s remembering the feel of his body, the soft skin between his thighs when you’re down there. He gets so jittery, thick thighs nearly crushing you if you drag him along too much. “O- Other hand on your cock,” you stumble, thighs squeezed together. “Stroke yourself just like I do, bunny.”

Jungkook complies. “Just like you?” he mumbles, suddenly sounds farther away. As if he’s dropped his phone off to the side. “Fffuck,” he grunts, “m- mouth is so pretty.”

“Hm?” you inquire, so consumed with tampering down your growing arousal for a second that you miss his sentence.

Jungkook’s breath stutters, and for a moment you’re met with the wet squelch of his cock in his hand. And then, “pretty mouth… make me— make me wanna see you cry.”

You bite your lip. “Why,” you say tentatively, finally caving in with a hand fluttering over the front seam of your jeans. Not a question, more of a gentle nudge for him to spill his thoughts.

“Be- Because,” he cries, fucking into his hand. He sounds closer and closer. You have to wonder just how long he had been riled up. It’s been a while since his first message, he was probably desperate by now. “Y- You’re so nice,” he cries, and the sentiment, though oddly out of place, makes your heart squeeze with adoration for the boy on the line. “Wanna be,” he groans, “wanna be so fucking mean to you, baby.”

The sudden change of tone makes you choke on a moan, hand pressing against your mound like it’ll somehow penetrate the thick material of your jeans and give you the sensations you crave. As it stands, it’s a muted feeling you get instead. When your hands fail, his voice compensates. “Fffuck, don’t you— don’t you think about it too?”

Admittedly, no.

Jungkook had always been a gentleman in bed. Always cared for your needs before his own, went out of his way to make you feel pampered and adored during your most vulnerable moments. Contrary to what his online persona might say, he was a good boy. Sweetest boy you knew, touched you like you were made of glass.

So to suddenly learn of this dream— fantasy? kink? —of his that you would certainly enjoy equally as much, well. It made you whimper into your palm, eyes worriedly flickering toward the stockroom’s entrance.

“Why?” you whisper, feeling like a broken doll repeating the same phrase over and over again. You’re suddenly aware of how hot everything was. Your polo felt sticky against your spine, apron too tight, jeans too stuffy. How long had you been hiding in here for? You don’t even know. Hopefully your absence on the floor had gone unnoticed.

Jungkook pants into the line; everything sounds so sticky and wet on his end, hand undoubtedly working away at his cock. “Shit,” he curses, doesn’t really answer your question until you prod a second time. “I- I like it,” he stammers. “When you… fuck, when you look small.” He elaborates before you can even ask, breath heavy and drawn out. He was so close. “When your mouth… when it hurts,” he says, thoughts a scrambled mess. “Like when you— when you cry because my cock is— it’s too big for you.”

A blatant ego boost you’ll ignore for now. Not like you can focus on too many things right now anyway. “Your cock is big, bunny,” you agree softly instead. Your legs feel cramped from crouching so long, so you push yourself to your feet. Except then you’re made aware of how fucking wet you are, panties soaked from the phone call with your boyfriend. You shift and they stick to your folds, make you release a shaky exhale that Jungkook doesn’t miss.

“I— you’re wet,” he says boldly, and this time your meek confirmation isn’t a lie. Jungkook grunts. “Fuck, baby, I—“ cut off by his own whiny cry, probably bucking into his hand like a madman by now. “Wanna, wanna kiss you everywhere,” he says, a call back to his earlier message. Your legs feel like jello. You want him to kiss you everywhere too— lips, tits, cunt that is dripping for him now.

“I- I’ll be over soon,” you stammer, feeling like you’ll pass out if he carries on any further. He sounds so good on the line, soft pants, rough growls. You can’t possibly listen anymore, not when you’re so wet and horny in the middle of your shift. “Just,” you pause, can’t get the image of his pretty cock out of your mind. Every blink makes it more vivid, reminds you of the vein on the underside, the exact shade of the tip.

“What?” Jungkook hisses, voice higher than usual, parts of it lost under the rapid movements of his hand. “Tell me, baby, tell me what to do,” he begs hoarsely, “I’ll do it.” Sounds so desperate and needy, two seconds away from busting all over his hand.

You have to lean against the wall of the stockroom to ground yourself, remind yourself you’re not in the same situation as Jungkook and can’t cum in your pants like a teenager. “J- Just cum,” you choke, eyes fluttering shut.

He must’ve been waiting for that command, because the second the words leave your throat he’s filling the line with breathy groans and cries as he comes all over himself, probably ruins his t-shirt. The sounds have your hips unconsciously bucking forward into nothingness, the frustration of not being able to cum with him manifesting in the form of a tiny little sob. Luckily, he doesn’t catch it.

When it’s all said and done, he’s left panting into the receiver, flooding your speaker with breathy sighs that only make you more and more aroused.

“You’re terrible,” you frown, cheeks flushed, body tingling. You flip your wrist over and check the time; it’s been about sixteen minutes since you disappeared from outside. Sixteen minutes of listening to Jungkook touch himself and moan and whine and whimper. Tease you with new possibilities you had never considered before. And now he’s satisfied and you’re not.

Jungkook chuckles, low and tired. The sound shoots straight to your cunt. “Come over after you shift,” he says, as if you’re not planning to fake a severe case of the flu right now in order to get off early and run to his bed. You only had a little less than two hours of your shift left anyway. Not like they paid you well to begin with. Jungkook shifts, releases one of those saccharine groans as he probably snuggles into his bed, all sweaty and worn out. “Want you to fuck my face, baby.”

You frown, counting to ten to calm yourself down. Another few minutes of listless conversation, and you hang up. Your body feels featherlight, a little woozy as you make your way back out into the floor.

Nothing has changed. Customers pour in and out, your boss scolds you for a display you didn’t do, and life inside the store drags on. No one knows that you’re soaking your panties to hell and back, Jungkook’s soothing moans in your ear. Life goes on.

you shift ends in 20

jungkook♡ sweet jungkook♡ got your seat ready jungkook♡ Attachment: 1 Image

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jjk smut #jeongguk smut #jjk♡#jeon jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader smut #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts jungkook #mine

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strawberry-lemonade-kisses · 3 years ago

Text

You and her

MUGEN TRAIN SPOILERS, read at your own risk.

You shuffled around the front yard, hanging the still soaked laundry up to dry with the help of your brother in law, Senjuro. You were so grateful he was so willing to stay with you while Kyojuro was away. As time went on simple tasks around the house became hard to manage with your growing baby bump.

"Y/N? Maybe you should leave the rest to me and go relax for a while. You already did the washing and made breakfast" Senjuro hovered next to you, grabbing at the blanket you were trying to take down. He was so much like his brother, so Doting and careful with you. You were sure Kyojuro had asked him to take extra care of you before he left for his work. But maybe he had a point, your back had been hurting more recently and Shinobu had warned you about overexerting yourself this far along.

"You are right, maybe I should. Do you want tea?" Allowing Senjuro to remove the blanket from your grasp, you stepped back from the basket of clean linens. He hummed as he turned towards the clothing line.

"Yes, and maybe after tea we can write to Kyojuro" he smiled over at you as you nodded. You still hadn't sat down to write a reply to your husband's recent letter. Telling of his time investigating a suspicious train. Before he left they didn't know much and so far it seems he hadn't found anything yet. It looked like you wouldn't be seeing him for another week or two.

"Let's do that. I'm sure he would love to hear what Tengen and the girls brought over the other day" you made your way back towards the house, going straight to the kitchen to prepare tea and maybe wash some of the fruit tengen and his wife's had brought armfuls of the other day.

"I was told it helps babies stay healthy. So we brought a lot, make sure you eat lots okay?" Tengen passed along his information whole he stored away your abundance of fruits in the kitchen, refusing any of your help. He waved you off with a huff, kicking you out of your own kitchen and grumbling about letting him 'do the hard work'

The tea pot was steadily puffing out steam by the time you had arranged a plate of apples, grapes, and oranges. A nice, decadent arrangement for such a nice summer day. You were grateful to have someone to spend time with during such a nice day. Maybe, you could go into town later, buy Senjuro something nice as a thank you for all his help. He mentioned something about a new haori, a nice white one like the older one Kyojuro had.

“Y/N?” You were pulled from your thoughts with Senjuros solemn face, standing towards the doorway. “There’s Kakushi here asking for you” Your eyes widened at the sentence, unsure how to proceed. Senjuro shuffled awkwardly as you stood there, frozen in fear. A visit like this was never a good sign, something happened, something was wrong. If it was a minor injury Kaname would tell you, not the Kakushi. “Y/N?” he called again, his timid voice breaking through the trance you felt yourself in. Humming in acknowledgement you wiped the juice off your hands, placing the towel back on the counter before you went to the front of the house.

“Mrs. Rengoku?” The woman in the black uniform addressed you, kneeling on the ground as she looked up at you. You nodded, waiving for her to continue, she cleared her throat, taking a piece of paper from her pocket, she read it aloud. “At 6:45 this morning we received a call for emergency medical care on The Flame Hashira, Kyojuro Rengoku. After the battle of lower moon 1 on the Mugen train the surviving flame hashira alongside 3 Mizunoto, Tanjiro Kamado, Zenitsu Agatsuma, and Inosuke Hashibira were approached by the upper moon 3. The flame hashira single handedly fought the upper moon 3.” She paused, looking up from the piece of paper anxiously. You grabbed onto Senjuros shoulder as he stood next to you, looking up at you. “Upon arrival Kyojuro Rengoku was unresponsive. Pronounced dead at 6:55.” She bowed her head, folding herself in half as she lowered herself to the ground. You felt dizzy, the tears immediately pushing out as her words hit you. They traveled fast, each syllable feeling like a weight on your shoulder, pushing you down as you sank to your knees. Cries ripped through your throat, tearing their way up as they escaped you. Senjuro clung to you desperately, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he sank down next to you, tears wetting the shoulder of your kimono.

“Miss Rengoku, We are so sorry. Working with Kyojuro has been an honor. They will be by with him shortly so you can say your final goodbyes.” The woman spoke hesitantly, wiping the tears from her eyes as she gave a final bow. You couldn’t see through the flood of tears in your eyes, the never ending stream of salted water that flowed down your face.

It seemed like forever before you stopped crying. Your throat hurt from your cries, the anguish that had escaped you in your grief. Senjuro had cried himself to sleep, his hands still clinging to your kimono as you both sat on the engawa. Although your cris had stopped, the tears didn’t. A steady stream still ran down your face as you went over your memories, memories that won't be made anymore

"My heart burns for you Kyojuro. The blood that runs through my veins, the blood that keeps me going. It runs just so I can go back to you. You are my flame, brightening the dark night, lighting my way. I never want you to be blown out, I will protect you in every way that I can, I will shield you from the winds and cover you from the rains. Kyo, my flame" you pushed his bangs away from his face, peppering kisses along his jaw as you spoke to him. You hear him exhale softly beneath you, his grip on your hips loosening as he relaxes.

"You drive me wild, my sunflower, you must be trying to get me to stay.” He huffed “I wish I could stay here with the two of you forever, I would want to carry you both everywhere with me, not letting even a hair of yours touch the ground. Leave it to me, sunflower, I will do it. Once she's born, I'll do it.” You hummed in response, leaning back in his arms. Your hands still cupped his face as you looked down at him, his gentle gaze as he stared down at your large stomach.

"Come home quickly. She will be ready to meet you when you get back. She will miss you as much as I will" he nodded, a smile gracing his lips as he pulled you into his chest, calloused hands resting on your back.

"I will be home quicker than lightning for you, my love. You and her" He pulled back, leaving a chaste kiss on your head. “I must go though, the sooner I leave, the sooner I will be home” You got up from straddling him, hands never leaving his body as you climbed off. He rose after you, grabbing onto his small amount of belongings he usually took with him. His sword rattled as he moved, the metallic hum vibrated through your small home. “Don’t forget your snacks” You waddled to the kitchen, hand already supporting your back as you moved with the weight of your baby. He was already standing in the front doorway, looking out at the early morning fog that blanketed your yard when you returned to his side, holding the small box of fruit and sweet potatoes. A travel snack you always made for him. He looked over at you, a smile gracing his lips as he took the wrapped box.

“Thank you my dear” He leaned forward, pulling you into him with his free hand as he moved against your lips. The kiss didn’t seem to last long enough for you, a small sigh leaving your lips as he pulled away, making his way down the front steps.

“Be safe, my flame. Come back quickly” With a wink and a wave he disappeared into the fog.

His words rang in your head, a reminder of his promise. The gentle words you said to each other before he left. If you would have known it was the last time, maybe you would have done it differently. Maybe you would have given him a whole meal for the road instead of small snacks. Maybe you would have convinced him to stay this time. Maybe if you had done something different, then maybe he’d still be here.

“Y/N” You looked down at the boy in your arms, his voice hoarse from crying. You wiped the snot off his face with your sleeve, pushing his bangs out of his damp eyes.

“I know Senjuro, I know. I’m sorry sweetie. Thank you for staying with me so much” His grip on you tightened, his head falling back onto your shoulder as he let out another cry.

A/N - im sorry if the ending sucks, i was crying to much to finish it like a proper story. Anyways, sorry about your feelings

#right in the feels #right in the fucking feels #this shit hurted #ouchie #kyojuro #rengoku x y/n #rengoku x reader #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #Kimetsu no Yaiba #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #kyo #kyojuro rengoku

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anyoneseenadam · 4 years ago

Text

The Moon Spirit - One

Dorian x reader (throne of glass) (future fenrys x reader)

Description: When you’re taught to be a queen from such a young age, nothing could go wrong. But when the king starts to fear your growing power you find yourself thrust into a world of faeries, evil magic and powerful men, learning to stand on your own can be harder than it seems.

warnings: blood, graphic descriptions of violence, objectification, gross old men, Dorian is a ball of love and niceness however, angst, fluff, possibly smut in later chapters

word count: 4.5k

a/n: ahhhhh I’m finally writing this!! This has been in my head for so long now so I’m so glad I’m finally getting it down and I’m really excited to develop it further and possibly go into some poly!dorianxfenrysxreader but that shall all be revealed soon lmao, pls comment and let me know your opinions and theories and shiz it always makes my day!!!

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“Wake up.” You felt insistent tapping on your forearm, groaning as you shook it off, turning onto your side and burrowing deeper into your soft duvet. “C’mon wake up princess,” your brain barely registered Dorian’s whining as you groaned in return, throwing and arm out behind you and batting at his firm chest.

“Go away.” You moaned as you felt a firm body land on top off yours. Dorian pressed his face in between your shoulder blades as his arms wormed their way beneath your stomach, warm fingertips massaging the skin of your belly as you cracked open an eye, albeit reluctantly.

“I have to say all those lessons in ladylike manners sure paid off.” You heard Chaol’s sarcastic voice and turned your head just enough to glare at him as well as he sat comfortably on the armchair next to your fireplace.

“I also have lots of lessons in stabbing rude boys, shall I demonstrate those,” you grumbled, flipping him off before shaking your clingy boyfriend away, sitting up in bed and glaring at both of them as they laughed at your disgruntled expression. “What do you want and why are you waking me up?”

“Well, my love,” Dorian moved behind you to gently start brushing your hair as you hummed in delight at the attention, both of you ignoring Chaol’s eye roll, “It is your birthday isn’t it?”

“So you choose to torment me?” you asked as Dorian stood again, smiling at you boyishly as he moved around your room, tidying away clothes.

“Well seventeen is a big one,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you and Chaol moved to translate as you stood and made your way to your bathroom where a bath had already been run for you, the hot water smelling of expensive soaps and salts.

“We have to make appearances today, and there’s a ball tonight.” Your shoulders slumped as you realised what your day entailed.

“Appearances?” you gave your friend a pleading look, but he just shrugged his shoulders sympathetically.

“Carriage through the city, the whole point in the public seeing you so much is to dampen any threat of revolution and they haven’t seen the two of you together recently. Your birthday is as good a time as any.” The older boy explained as your dark-haired prince moved closer to you, wrapping his arms tightly around you and kissing your head.

“I know it sucks princess, but if we make the rounds this morning, we’ll have all afternoon to ourselves before the ball.”

“I don’t like being a show pony.” You grumbled as the familiar frustration prickled behind your eyes, tears forming on what was supposed to be a happy day for you.

Chaol and Dorian averted their gazes at your words, both feeling a deep sense of guilt over something they truly couldn’t control. You had spoken of this before, only in confidence to them; Dorian the love of your life and Chaol alike a brother to you, you had told them how you felt like a toy, a shiny thing for the king to display, waved around in front of the public until you were drained, and they were putting artificial colour onto your face. You had once described it as being alike a corpse in makeup, dragged around for others entertainment as you slowly rotted and decayed until you were unrecognisable.

“I’ll be there the entire time my love, when it gets too much I’ll drag the attention away from you okay?” you nodded as he stroked your arm reassuringly.

“I love you,” you said to him as you leaned up to kiss him gently.

“I love you too baby, happy birthday.”

Chaol walked past as he left the room so you could clean, ruffling your hair as he passed. “Maybe next year you’ll grow,” he mocked, narrowly missing your smack as the three of you laughed.

“Clean up, we’ll be waiting when you’re ready,” Dorian pressed another kiss to your head before he was dragged out of the room, his grin easy as you waved him away.

You washed quickly without the help of the maids that usually surrounded you. You presumed that was a birthday present from Dorian as he knew how much you despised the bustling groups of women that would preen over your every feature.

You spent half the bath scrubbing off layers of dead skin and the other massaging your hair until it had no option but to shine in the morning light. Cleaning your face and dragging a razor over any visible body hair as you repeated the rules you were taught in your head.

1. Never look anything less than perfect. A queen must look put together.

2. Always stand straight.

3. Never smile with your teeth.

4. Wave to children only, adults get a polite head bow.

5. Speak once spoken too and only if given permission from the Crown prince…

The list went on for what seemed like hours and at one point you had it written down and pinned on your wall next to your mirror, reading it every day. The first four years you had spent under the king’s care were the same. Lessons followed by more lessons, restrictive diets, and waist training. They broke you down and remodelled you into the perfect queen, and throughout those lonely years you never once saw Dorian, excluding the first time you met as children.

Only when you were twelve did you see him again, and from then on you did everything together. When he sword trained you practiced ballet, when he read, you read, when he ate, you ate. You became one person, never doing something without the other, Chaol turning your duo into a trio soon after.

When you turned fourteen he kissed you. You both knew you were to be married one day, but one snowy day he had pulled you aside and kissed you quickly, face as red as the roses your mother used to grow every summer. He had asked you to be his girlfriend, speaking so quickly you barely heard him as you held in laughs at your usually so composed prince. You had nodded in response and he kissed you again, holding your hand tightly as the two of you escaped the castle for the night, determined as he was to take you on a real date.

You dried quickly when you got out the bath, rubbing your favourite lavender scented hand cream into your hands and neck. You towelled your hair off and dressed quickly, mindful of the delicate necklace that always hung around your neck, the one that secured your place in the glass castle. Even if you didn’t know why.

Your dress was dusty blue with silver stitching, the king and queen liking when you and Dorian sticked to a theme. You thumbed some silver earrings in and adorned your wrists in similar dainty, silver bracelets, finally twisting your hair into a low bun and pinning away the loose strands, applying minimal makeup.

You heard a soft knock at the door before it pushed open, a familiar mop of dark hair appearing at an odd angle from behind the door. You smiled when you saw him, unable to escape the rush of feelings that appeared whenever he walked in a room, all easy smiles and suave manner.

He sauntered over to you with a cheeky smile, his hands hiding something behind his back.

“Maybe Chaol was right about the height thing,” he commented when he reached you, your similar heights long gone as you both grew into your bodies, the days of being young and without consequences gone.

You jabbed him in the rib jokingly, “It’s my birthday and all I’ve gotten so far is abuse.”

“Let me change that then,” he pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw, and you shut your eyes, revelling in the attention from your lover. He pulled away and revealed the flat box he was holding. “I know you can’t take your necklace off, but I thought this would go nicely with it,” he opened the box in your direction, and you looked down at a beautiful gold necklace with a circular pendant showing an opalescent crescent moon with three stars on the gold plating it rested on.

“Oh Dorian,” you whispered, picking the necklace up gently to admire it.

“Of course I have a million other presents waiting for you later, I have to treat my best girl,” he scrunched his face up in the way that always reminded you that he too was just a boy, despite his lessons. You loved these gentle moments when you both let your masks drop, and instead focused on the true love you shared, a lack of care for the way it was pushed. You instead focused on the luck that had given you a man you could truly love, through all the pain and harsh words, the world had given you someone to endure its hardships with, and for that you would remain grateful.

“Put it on for me?” you smiled at him, biting your lip gently as he turned you around, clasping the necklace that sat perfectly under your crystal behind you neck, his fingers soft and gentle as they trailed down the chain and settled between your collarbones, his touch almost wary of the stone as he moved to stand in front of you.

He seemed like he was about to say something but clearly decided against it, instead reaching to tug some strands of hair down to frame your face, twirling them in his long fingers.

“We’ll be fine today, it’s only an hour or two.” He said, his voice steady and sure, his courage coursing through you as he cupped your face lightly.

“We will be. We always are.” You moved away and sat to pull on your shoes as Dorian checked his sword was hanging safely from his side still before he picked up a light shawl, slinging it around your shoulder and linking arms with you.

“The city awaits my love,”

Chaol was escorting you through the courtyard when you were surrounded by a fleet of soldiers, exchanging a worried glance with Dorian.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, his arm tightening around you as he and Chaol both scanned the area.

“Yes your highness, however a rather dangerous prisoner is being taken to the king, so we are simply on high alert.” A guard you recognised said, Dorian frowned but you all continued onwards, only slowing when you passed an ever-larger group of guards. When you passed them you looked to the centre where a beautiful girl with a tear-stained face stood, being dragged along, her blonde hair matted with blood and dirt. She locked eyes with you, and you felt a pulse of power go through your body, her turquoise eyes widening for a second as time seemed to slow around you, a soft glow emitting from your neck. However before you could ponder it she was dragged away, and Dorian was asking you a question.

“Huh?” you asked quietly, mind occupied by the strange, beautiful girl.

“What do you think she did?” he asked, his grin cheeky.

“Maybe she steals princes hearts and eats them,” you joked, nudging his side even though your smile didn’t feel real, hiding your shaking hands behind the pleats of your skirt.

“Shame mine has already been stolen,” he flirted, and you laughed genuinely as he helped you into the carriage, pushing down the thoughts of the girl and the anxiety that surged through you as you prepared to plaster on a fake, placid smile.

“I haven’t eaten it yet though,” he laughed, joining you and squeezing your hand.

“Save it for dessert.”

The rest of your day passed slowly. Practiced waves and polite conversation taking up a majority of your morning as you tried to keep a pleasant facial expression when all you wanted was to curl up with your very cute boyfriend and sleep your birthday away.

You hated being put on display, the way you were shown off like a shiny toy and your hand was frequently finding Dorians, holding his tightly while you dug your nails into the palm of your other hand, the biting pain reminding you that you were in fact human.

By the end of the long, slow loop of Adarlan your shoulders were aching, and your mouth hurt from the still, soft expression you had kept it in. However you didn’t let your shoulders drop as you moved swiftly through the castle, Dorian by your side and Chaol a pace behind. Instead you only let your shoulders fall when you reached your room as you squealed, clapping your hands together and turning to Dorian with wide eyes when you saw the copious amounts of presents laid out for you.

“Dorian this is too much!” you exclaimed as you tackled him in a hug.

“Nothing is too much for you angel.” He muttered, kissing your head as you practically swooned in his arms.

“You read too much romance,” you said, ducking your head to hide your heated face.

“Plus a solid twenty percent are from me,” Chaol said, and you turned, hugging the tall man tightly too.

“Thank you!” you held your hands to your face, biting the tips of your thumbs like you used to as a child as Dorian led you to the seats where the presents were placed.

“I think this one needs to be opened first,” he said, a glint in his eyes that you couldn’t place as he passed you a large but light box. You opened the lid cautiously as Dorian exchanged excited looks with his brother. You were met by a ball of white fur, bright blue eyes blinking up at you and you gasped.

You placed a hand over your heart as you reached into the box, picking up the kitten that was roughly the size of your hand and cooing gently as you stroked it, tears filling your eyes. You looked up at Dorian and he smiled at you as you pressed the furball into your chest, nuzzling its soft head.

“I found it abandoned on a street and had to take it home,” he explained, “He doesn’t have a name yet.”

You wiped away a tear that had escaped as they laughed at your emotional state, “Amaris,” you whispered, still choked up, “My little ball of light.”

You leaned into Dorian’s arm and kissed him gently in thanks, his head coming over your shoulder as you cooed at the small kitten that was pawing at your hand like new parents.

“As sweet as this is we’re going to be here for hours if you take this long on everything,” you stuck your tongue out at Chaol, placing Amaris in your lap as you were passed more presents. You ended up opening many presents for Amaris, Dorian sheepishly explaining that he got slightly carried away, countless books, dresses, hair pins and bags filled with sweets from all over the world.

By the time you were finished you all felt slightly sick from the taffy you had shared but the aches left from your smiles were real this time. Maids came in to clear away the wrapping paper and dishes Dorian had ordered up when he realised you hadn’t had any substantial food yet that day.

“I should go, we’ve got dinner then the ball in an hour and I can hear the maids outside,” Dorian said late that afternoon, his arms tight around you as you snoozed on his chest, Chaol having left to complete his duties for the day, not having the luxury to laze around like you and Dorian, and Amaris curled on Dorian’s chest next to your head.

“Do you have too?” you whined, and Dorian laughed,

“Yes, now c’mon. Wear the gold dress tonight,” he was referring to an intricate rose pink and gold dress he had bought you, currently hanging on the screen in your room, the matching tiara in a velvet case on your vanity. You looked over to it with heart eyes, wondering how you got so lucky before you sat up and Dorian marvelled at you, eyes puffy from your nap and lips parted and pouty. He reached up and stole a kiss, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before deepening the kiss with a hand on the back of your head. He pressed into your body, his tongue seeking out yours and you moaned softly into the kiss, his grin a promise of more to come later in the evening.

He pulled away too soon, leaving you breathless and left with a wink as you were surrounded by a sea of flustered maids, getting swept up in the lace and satin, the rush of the room silencing your mind for the time being.

You sat next to Dorian on a velvet seat, Dorian’s hand protectively resting on your knee as you spoke to the duke and duchess of some shit you didn’t care about. They were speaking about their fifth horse when you felt a sharp gaze on you and turned to see the king staring at you with his cold eyes, and for a second you felt that pulse of power again, the Duke cut off mid-sentence as the world slowed. You tore your eyes away quickly, clenching them shut as the image of the blonde girl came back into your head, Dorian gazing at you with worry as he excused the two of you.

“What happened?” he asked, leading you to dance as you forced yourself back into your practiced facial expression, the mask slipping on hiding your fear.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned into his embrace, “I need to talk to you about something that happened today,” you whispered low enough for him to hear.

“Are you okay? Did someone do something?” he asked, grip tightening slightly as he led you in a waltz.

“Not quite, I’ll tell you when we can go somewhere more private.” You peered over his shoulder and met the kings’ eyes again, watching as he spoke lowly to Chaol who turned slightly pale before bowing and making his way over to you.

“May I but in,” he asked, and Dorian nodded, still watching you cautiously as he passed you to Chaol.

“The king wishes to speak to you after the ball, he says it’s the first thing you have to do.” He told you quietly and it took all your training to mask your fear.

“Did he say why?” you asked, taking a deep breath when he shook his head. “Okay, that’s fine. Thank you for letting me know.” You finished your dance with Chaol before carrying on with Dorian, occasionally having to entertain a noble who would breathe heavily in your ear for ten minutes before Dorian found an excuse to steal you back, giggling like the teenagers you were as you did.

When the ball ended and everyone began filing out, all wishing you a happy birthday and you and Dorian a happy future you felt the ball of anxiety that had been in your stomach all night grow, consuming your entire being and swallowing you whole.

“Are you sure you’re okay going alone?” Dorian asked for the fourth time and you faked a laugh to appease his nerves.

“He probably just wants to let me know of new duties now I’m older, I’ll not be long.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“But why won’t he let me or Chaol escort you,” he looked concerned, his trust in his father depleting as he grew older.

“Probably because you’ve both been drinking,” you squeezed his hand as his shoulders slumped, “I’ll be fine.”

“Come up to my room as soon as you’re done okay?” you smiled at his concern, placing a hand over your new necklace, and walking back, away from him.

“Promise.” You blew him a kiss, “see you in a minute, I love you.”

You knew something was wrong even before you walked in the room as you watched the queen walk out, eyes red. Her breath stopped when she saw you and she looked as if she were about to come over to speak to you, but shook her head, continuing on with a tight smile.

The guards opened the doors to the large throne room, escorting you into the dark room.

The king sat alone.

The room was dark, lit only by the light of the full moon coming in from the glass walls and ceiling. He sat on his burnished throne; his crown lopsided on his head as he swirled a goblet of blood red wine.

You stepped forward, head bowed, posture never faltering as your mind travelled back to the way you had watched your grandmother stand up to him as well, only to pass away less than a month later leaving you with no real family.

“It’s a shame really,” he started, voice low and gravelly and you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. “You were truly doing so well, and Dorian the poor boy, this will affect him greatly I presume.”

You fought the bile rising in your stomach at the implications of what he was saying, but kept your mouth shut.

“And I have been nothing but fair, giving you all you could ever dream of and keeping you on a tight leash. But I suppose teenage girls will always want to disobey.” He stood then, motioning to the guards who came and kicked you down, landing on your knees harshly with a yelp as you looked up at the approaching king with fear in your eyes.

He reached you, his hand stroking your cheek lightly before trailing down to your necklaces, gently twirling the stone between your collarbones before holding the one Dorian had gifted you tightly.

“Hmm, tacky,” was all he said before tugging harshly, ripping the necklace of you, and throwing it to the side. “I guess I’ve dragged this out enough now.”

You were shaking were you sat, tears slowly trailing down your face but still to afraid to say a word, even as a guard you didn’t recognise approached you, drawing his sword as the others held you tightly. Your eyes widened, fear seeping in as you started fighting the guards, desperately thrashing in their grips as you met the kings’ eyes.

“You can’t do this,” you begged but it was futile as he laughed in your face, “Please it will destroy Dorian, he is your son please don’t do this.”

“It builds character, a strong king needs to be broken.”

“What about the public! They will figure it out, you can’t spin this one.” You were pulling at strings, but you had to try anything you could.

“I AM KING! WHATVER I SAY GOES, WHATEVER I SAY IS THE TRUTH!” he exploded, and you started sobbing, begging for your life as the king turned away, gesturing for the guard to continue. You were shaking, pulling away from the guards as you fought against their death grip.

You watched the guard raise the sword above his head, squeezing your eyes shut as you sent a prayer to any god that was listening. As you prayed, clutching your necklace letting loose sobs and cried for Dorian you failed to notice the glow emitting from you. You heard the guard step forward to slash down and raised your hands to brace for the blow, a blow that never came.

You looked up to see the three guards that were next to you were all sliced in half, blood spilling onto the floor. You screamed pushing away, slipping on the blood as you tore away sobbing as the king turned to you, face white with fear and rage.

“GET HER!” he screamed but you had already begun running, skirts bunched in your hands, the glow around you shielding you from their arrows as you tore through the doors and into the courtyard, running as fast as your legs would allow, dropping yours arms as the full force of the moons light hit you. You saw a path you and Dorian often took to sneak out and headed for it, hiding behind the mock door that was covered in shrubbery, a hand pressed to your mouth as you muffled your sobs hearing the guards stopping nearby, speaking in hushed tones.

You felt something wet press against your leg and almost screamed, looking down to see Amaris gazing up at you with those bright, unblinking eyes. You held in your sobs, picking him up and pressing him into your chest as you quietly made your way down the path that led to the woods, walking in the moon veiled forest.

Your dress was bloody and torn, your delicate heels had snapped, and your feet were tearing from where you stepped having removed them. You ran through the woods, heading as far away as you could get, however you eventually had to slow walking and holding in your sobs as you realised what you had done.

Not only had you used magic, but you had also killed three men and left Dorian. You held Amaris tighter to your chest as he licked at you gently, your necklace still glowing even thought your entire body ached, ready for rest. But you ploughed on, coming out of the forest onto an empty dirt road.

You sat down for a second, letting Amaris down as you sobbed into your hands until you had no tears left, your entire body still shaking. But you forced yourself to stand, picking up Amaris and walking down the road, luckily finding a small farm with horses.

You quietly took a horse, placing down your tiara in its place, wishing you could apologise more but instead mounting the horse and leaving, riding into the night, tears drying on your face as you held your light close with one hand. You wished you could just wake up, wrapped in Dorians arms as he comforted you after your bad dream, but the pain in your body suggested that wasn’t going to happen.

You wanted Dorian but you needed a plan. And you needed a drink.

Chaol stood in the throne room, his hand clenched so tight his knuckles were white as he watched the king spin his story of your sudden disappearance, the sound of Dorians silent cries breaking his heart.

When they were excused he dragged Dorian to his room, where he finally broke down, falling to his knees and sobbing into his hands, muttering about how he should have protected her.

“Dorian I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but I think something bad happened to (y/n).” he said, approaching his brother cautiously as he looked at him with wide, tear filled eyes.

“What?” he asked, his voice breaking in his throat. Chaol finally unclenched his hand and passed what he had been holding to Dorian.

The gold necklace was caked with blood.

#throne of glass #tog #dorian x reader #dorian havilliard #dorian havilliard x reader

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honeybunnybeez · 4 years ago

Note

If you are still doing the alphabet thing can I please get a c!quackity? It's okay if not, dont worry!

SFW alphabet:

C!Quackity

♡Reader is Gender Neutral!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Lord we know this man is quite the flirt in some way. He's pretty affectionate with you in front of others and almost has little shame with it.

In public, he likes to hold hands or put his arms around your shoulder or waist, depending on how tall you are compared to him.

In private he's pretty playful, calling out your name out of nowhere only to tackle with you a hug and kiss you. He totally keeps you on your toes when at home.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He's a very teasing best friend, constantly joking around with you. Also the best friend people think you're dating before you actually date because of how affectionate he is with you.

You two probably became friends during the presedential election and remained friends since you decided to oppose Schlatt with him and Tubbo.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

My man likes to properly cuddle with you whenever you two have some quiet time alone. His favourite way to cuddle you is by laying on top of you while you stroke his hair or wings.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I would think that he would, most likely after being satisfied with whatever he plans on doing in the server.

Oh my god but he would be so bad at doing chores with you. Washing dishes? Yeah- that's gonna be a 1 hour ordeal as you two have a water fight. Cooking? Food fight. Sweeping around the house? Broom fight- you two keep telling yourself you won't do it again but you do-

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

(Me, having a minor flashback to when he told Eret he didn't like him at all) OKAY- So, depends heavily on the situation. It could either go smooth or just break both your hearts.

If it was just the relationship not feeling natural, he would break it off to you the nicest way he can and would still really wanna be friends with you. He can't cause chaos without his buddy after all.

Oh but if it was because of something bad either one of you did, he would definitely say things he doesn't mean. Things that would break both your hearts. Yeah, it would take a while to ever mend your relationship if that was the outcome.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He has like 2 freaking fiances and 1 (or 2?) ex(es?). (Karlnapity sfw alphabet soon? Maybe-) He's down to get engaged with you for sure.

Okay but he seems to like getting engaged really quickly too- So you'll have to tell him straight up that you need to see where this goes with him. Maybe give like a time period of 6 months or more to see if you two could really live being each others for the rest of you lives.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Emotionally, he is a little rough. He forgets his limits at times and will sometimes say hurtful things to you by accident in the heat of the moment. He'll apologize profusely though when he catches his mistake and sees the way your eyes stare at him with such hurt. He tells you he doesn't mean it and he truly doesn't, he'll feel guilty until you forgive him.

Physically, he is pretty gentle save for his few tackle hugs and kisses. He just loves you a lot and sometimes can't contain it well.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He loves hugs if it's you giving them. He needs to get a hug from you everyday and if he doesn't he gets super whiny and will even whine in his 'auto tune' voice until he gets them. He likes to hug you from behind, and sometimes his wings cover the both of you as he asks you, "Guess who this iiis!"

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

The first time he ever genuinely said I love you was when you had to help him clean his wings after a bad fall of his. He had never let anyone close to them before and so him thinking he could trust you not to hurt him was something that made him realize that he truly did love you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He's not a very jealous person, being a very affectionate and handsy person himself, but if you and him don't hang out with one another as often as you used to he starts to whine for your attention until he gets it.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are very hyper and almost silly.

He likes to kiss your whole face, planting them in quick succession everywhere to make you laugh.

He likes when you give him long kisses on the lips. Especially if it's during a calm moment. It makes his heart flutter.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Oh he can definitely hang with kids and in return kids love him and his chaotic childish nature too, but he doesn't plan on having any of his own, at least not early on in your relationship. He'll have to think about that for a while.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings are the only time you can find him calm, you usually wake up earlier than he does and he always looks so peaceful while he lays on your chest with his wings laid out like a second blanket.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are filled with mindless chatter between the two of you. Rarely do you guys ever remember what nonsense you two were on about before bedtime. All you remembered is shared goodnight kisses and cuddles.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Oh, after all the stuff he's been through he doesn't trust anyone easily anymore. It will take him quite a while to fully open up to you about all the negative things he feels or thinks about. Just take things slow with him and don't push him to say what he doesn't want to, that already wins you his favour.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Okay this seems like a wild card not gonna lie. I feel like if it involves his plan to gain power in the server and you're against the idea he has he gets very frustrated. You'll have to be quick and tell him that you say that because you're concerned about him and his safety.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Besides dates, his memory is a little hard for me to describe. He remembers a good amount of things about you but things you mention in passing are forgotten until you bring it up or until he sees something that suddenly reminds you of it.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

It was when you properly sat down with him and preened his wings one day when he was way too tired to do it himself. The feelings of your fingers through his wings were like absolute heaven and he forgot how good it felt to have someone do it for you. Safe to say, he got pretty addicted to you doing it to him after this event.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Although he may seem outgoing and like he doesn't care much, he is rather protective of you, making sure you don't accidentally communicate with anyone he isn't fond of.

He would protect you by warning you of others, telling you who is safe to turn to and who isn't safe to turn to. He even tells those he can somewhat rely on to make sure you're protected when he's away. If worse comes to worse he'll protect you physically as well.

He needs you to protect him mentally and emotionally. He feels like everyone he trusts eventually betrays him and he can't have that with you. He needs reassurance that you won't leave him like the others would or do.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He would put in a bit of effort to make it special but not a whole lot, he wants it to be fun but natural too. Though you can always gurantee that he'll serenade you during your dates or anniversaries, the music he plays for you is silly sure but they're also super heartfelt with effort put into it.

In everyday tasks he isn't very helpful, running off to cause chaos more often than not but if you do need help he'll always be there to lend a hand. He often times fetches (or steals) things you need too.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He doesn't know when to quit when it comes to wanting to take over the server. While you know how he truly is, it unsettles you a bit how he's able to manipulate others at times. You totally gave him an earful when he went to fight Technoblade because you knew, as much as you loved your boyfriend, that no one would actually be able to kill Technoblade that easily.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Schlatt made him feel very insecure about himself and even though he knows thay bastard is full of shit and burning in hell, he can't help but feel disgusting at times. Hug him and tell him that he's very handsome and adorable the way he is and that Schlatt shouldn't be talking when he looks like a wine mom on her last line.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He would feel so lost without, having no support would make him act even more irrational and could also get him killed pretty quickly. You're his voice of reason to a certain extent.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I've written this before but he likes to make nests out of your pillows, sheets and clothes. The mood strikes him at times and you two will just spend the whole day chilling in his little nest while you preen and baby him.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn't want someone who leaves him when the situation turns sour, he doesn't want a partner who would leave him behind easily. Most importantly though and as unhealthy as this is, he most likely doesn't want a partner who wishes to have more power than him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He sleep talks and mumbles and that's fine and all but he sometimes he accidentally switches to his 'auto tune' voice and it scares the shit out of you if it's in deep or demonic mode.

A/N: Oh my lord I finally managed to post a c!quackity related thing-! Thank you so much anons for your patience and I hope you all enjoy this! I'm so sorry if this isn't very fluffy but I wanted to mix in a little canon compliance in it too for future angst projects. He was a really interesting character for me to re-study again!

(Requests are open and anon is on!)

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt headcanons #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagine #dream smp headcannon #c!/quackity

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rebelliouslala · 3 years ago

Text

A Man Who Plays Volleyball.

happy birthday my beloved little anime boy, Ushijima Wakatoshi!

summary and warnings!: OC!Yuri-Chan (they are there as you, the reader!) x Wakatoshi, fix it fic! Shiratorizawa wins to go to the Nationals; angst, descriptions of parental abuse, descriptions of anxiety, flashbacks, a form of s/lf h/rm, accidental cause to injury, unwanted touching, a creepy guy, divorce drama, this story describes the suppression of men’s mental health, a good spoonful of fluff at the end

word count; ~10k words

a/n: this was SUPER rushed. but, i love him. you have no idea how much i saw myself in satori. in wakatoshi. i love shiratorizawa. may this alternate universe make the original ushijima wakatoshi smile :)

The Shiratorizawa volleyball player, Ushijima Wakatoshi walked home. He carried his volleyball clothes in a duffel bag. He wore a white hoodie with a purple outline. It said, printed, “Ushijima #1” on the back. He walked in silence. Because he preferred it. He felt tired.

The Miracle Boy felt tired. The crickets in the warm farm fields began to buzz with the swift wind that came from behind. He closed his eyes and stopped. He softly smiled as he looked up at the cloudy autumn sky. The sun was setting.

How long has he waited for this day; His eyes, to anyone else, would be dull. But that day, after his battle against Karasuno, they sparkled like freshly oiled olives. His hairdo was gently ruffled as a train passed by to his left, and he took a deep breath. He pumped his fist as a tear went down his cheek.

“I won.”

Once the Miracle Boy arrived home; He placed away his uniform in a laundry machine, and gently sucked on a popsicle. He blinked a few times, watching the machine churn and churn and churn and churn and churn and churn and- His lower back ached. He leaned against the wall, continuing to gently bite the tip. Satori once called him insane for biting ice cream.

“Doesn’t it hurt?!” Satori cried during their summer training. Wakatoshi had offered his land to use for training. Coach Washijo had taken the offer with happiness. He had bit his thick popsicle in response. “No.”

Wakatoshi turned to a sob from the threshold. There sat on its diaper ass one of the Ushijima twins, Kazane, who blinked. She had a straight bob and palm green eyes. She whined.

The boy sighed. He gently bent down and picked her up. She babbled stupidly and gripped at his hair, then whined more for his popsicle. “No.” He continued to bite it and he frowned as Kazane started to whimper. Wakatoshi now began to bounce her and he looked at his uniform as it continued to wash. She stopped making noises and instead clung onto him.

“Wakatoshi? Wakatoshi have you seen—?” He let his mother find him as she sighed. She had straight black hair, one that was in a messy bun since she gave birth to the twins.

“Hello Oka-san.”

“Wakatoshi, you know she can’t have ice cream!” She said, exasperated.

“I know that. She is trying to take it.” He continued biting it.

“Here, gimme,” Ms. Ushijima took Kazane, and let her soft cry in her neck. Wakatoshi simply continued to look at the swirl of his clothes. “I called your father.”

Wakatoshi turned, and he blinked. Once. Twice. His eyebrows furrowed, but he straightened himself up. “Is he not busy?”

“Yeah, but you know, it’s nice because you‘re going to Nationals-, isn’t that what you wanted, Wakatoshi?”

The boy sucked on the stick as the machine stopped. He went down to take the uniform, and began to fold. “Yes.”

She sighed, “Stop acting dramatic. I know you’re happy. Oh- I also invited your girlfriend over.” Wakatoshi now walked past his mother, and his baby sister as he went to his room. He hung his shirt and pants. Ms. Ushijima followed him, “I suggest you wear some nice formal wear, got it? And I want you both in the family room.”

“I was thinking of a nice berry bush, a purely platonic meeting. In the back—?”

“Ugh, fine. Whatever. Sure. Remember to change Mayumi’s diapers.”

Yuri had met Wakatoshi at the side door of his house. Yuri hopped up and gave him a kiss to his jawline. “Good afternoon, ‘Toshi-Chan!”

Wakatoshi blushed. He held his cheek. “Afternoon, my flower.”

The wind that messed up Yuri’s hair passed, and Wakatoshi with no hesitation helped them fix it, after a soft question if he could. He gently petted their hair back.

The couple sat peacefully in the bushes. Yuri, after the wind, then went to the strawberry bushes and started to pick. They hummed as they put them in a small bucket, as Wakatoshi instructed them to, and rinsed them in a bucket his Grandfather made. After that, they handed the small fat berry to his hand, as he cut off the top part of the berry.

“The leaves are edible, but are annoying to the throat. It’s better to mush them together, since they have good properties for the body.” Wakatoshi explained. Yuri giggled in response, continuing to pick a few more, with a here and there bite to the smallest one.

Yuri might even turn around, and coo, “Look at this, ‘Toshi-Chan! Aw, it’s no bigger than my thumb!” At which Wakatoshi leaned over, uncomfortably on the small blanket his Mother gave him, before nodding. “Do you want to name it? Like a child?”

“Oh great idea! How about, hmm, Plate!”

“Hm?”

“Because strawberries, and plate berries!”

“Ah.” Wakatoshi nodded, and he gave them a small side of the mushed leaves. “This should be enough for both of us. Do you think so?”

“Mhm! Oh, how are the twins?”

Wakatoshi leaned back and took a deep breath. Kazane cried so much he had to wake up Grandmother Nijiko for it. She complained loudly, but went over and in a few hours the silence was gone. Mayumi singlehandedly ate the rest of the prepared milk bottles his Mother made. Wakatoshi lost approximately 3.26 hours of sleep. “They are well.” He said.

“Oh! They’re the cutest!! With their little soft lettuce cheeks-! I can’t wait until I can feed them little berries!” Yuri popped one in their mouth.

“Mayumi-tan loves blueberries. Especially playing with them. Kazane-tan prefers spitting the strawberry seeds in my hair.”

“No wonder you take so many showers, Wakatoshi-Chan!” He ate a bit of the mush, and he looked above at the clouds. Yuri laid next to him, and dipped their finger in the mush.

“Satori-kun told me- you- uh, you got mad. I was wondering where you were after the game.”

“We had to celebrate. Besides that, I could not charge my phone. The TV crew took up all the outlets.”

“Aw, bummer! But still, Wakatoshi-Chan~,” Yuri poked his side. He twitched in response. “You got mad. It was a close game.”

Wakatoshi ate another strawberry dipped in mush. “I won. Do not worry. I am okay.” Yuri laid on their stomach and pouted. “Promise?”

“I would never lie to you, Yuri-Chan.”

“Good. Then critique me on my violin, okay!”

He nodded, as Yuri brought out their violin case. Being best friends with Satori, all sorts of little stickers were on it, especially a large Pokémon one. Wakatoshi crossed his legs as Yuri took their violin out, and their bow. They hummed quietly, tuning the violin and hastily rubbing rosin on the bow. They used the bow on the violin, once- twice -the first made Wakatoshi fear the twins would wake up from their nap- before Yuri played.

The Swan.

Wakatoshi laid back. Yuri closed their eyes, leaning into their instrument, and played. The wind picked up again. And Wakatoshi closed his eyes.

Yuri and he met in freshman year. Wakatoshi saw Yuri come in, shy.

“I am so sorry! I thought this was the auditorium.” Wakatoshi had just worked out. He assumed in their vision, this would be attractive and more romantic. To him he felt more comfortable and relaxed.

“It’s a few more blocks down. But I believe the Coach will not allow music.” Seeing Yuri’s jolt of embarrassment, Wakatoshi added, “But I believe outside is a perfect place to play. I would help you, but I know the plants shall tell you what to do.”

And here, as the wind guided Yuri’s fingers, their bow, the soft and intimate touches to the strings, did Wakatoshi hear how his advice had really counted. From Day 1 to Day Now, their improvement let him smile quietly in pride. They were perfect.

After a few days of waiting for a response from Wakatoshi’s father, it was settled and official. He would join them that night for dinner.

Yuri held onto Wakatoshi’s arm, their middle finger writing characters he could not decipher. He looked around at Grandmother Nijiko holding the twins. Kazane was in a little blue robe and Mayumi in red. His mother opened the door to the wardrobe for Wakatoshi. He wore a tight white shirt, and black sleek pants. He observed a royal purple kimono.

Yuri gulped as they watched his mother gently pinch his ear, “Nuh uh, do the Atlantic Blue.”

“I believe it is Pacific Blue.” Wakatoshi responded as he took that instead, and dawned it. He helped Yuri with their kimono.

“Wow, your family is like, really traditional, Wakatoshi,” they said quietly, looking at Wakatoshi.

“It’s my father’s arrival. Oka-san likes it like this.” He paused, before he continued to help them put it on, “and Oba-san, of course.”

Wakatoshi could not admit it, but he did appreciate it too. The clan was well, they just valued the importance of continuing to be perfect. It was only in their strict rules he did not want his new siblings to be subjected to. Wakatoshi glanced at his left hand. as he tied Yuri’s pink clothes together.

“‘Toshi, remember to smile.” Ms. Ushijima reminded him.

Wakatoshi grimaced. “Yes Oka-san.”

Yuri squeezed his hand, and looked up at him. He gently smiled back.

“Yuri-kun, make sure Wakatoshi doesn’t go on about volleyball again!” Grandmother Nijiko said. His smile faded.

His mother went from the twins, to going to him and attacking his stance.

Ms. Ushijima went on her tippy toes, muttering and complaining about his height, then how his hair was so dry, how he needed to use lotion more, and how filthy he was.

Yuri only stared at their feet. The Ushijimas stared at Wakatoshi, having his mother flick his ear and pinch at his stomach. “Stop eating so much rice! Obviously this sport isn’t putting off enough weight, eh?”

The doorbell rang. Finally, Wakatoshi took a gulp of fresh air as his mother went to the door.

It opened. Wakatoshi couldn’t stop smiling.

Everything seemed to blur and fade into each other. Wakatoshi took his coat. Yuri was taken away. The twins began to cry and whine for food. Ms. Ushijima said nothing.

The dining room in the Ushijima home was tiny. The dinner table was small, made of driftwood from Wakatoshi’s great grandfather. The clinking of dishes were mixed in with the twins crying. Yuri sat uncomfortably. Wakatoshi only ate as he looked at his father.

Mr. Utsui Takashi barely had hair- he was balding. He had a curly like stubble though, and he had developed an annoying, wheezing-like cough after inhaling any sort of food. It seemed his vision got worse, since he had thought the twins were identical. He had to take a double take to Yuri and Wakatoshi before laughing and embracing him tightly. His hands were disgusting. He smelled of fish and B.O.

But Wakatoshi put his face in his neck, and embraced him thrice as tightly once he had seen him minutes ago. Wakatoshi nearly lifted his father from the ground. Now, as Wakatoshi picked at his small serving of possibly 382 pieces of rice and steak, he watched his father talk to Yuri.

“Ah, Wakatoshi, she is so cute! Ooh~,” he pinched Yuri’s cheek who giggled and thanked him, a little awkward. Wakatoshi ate his steak, a little curve on his lips from their interaction.

“Utsui-san, I am so excited! I cannot believe you came all this way, because ‘Toshi-chan is going to nationals!” Yuri smiled.

Wakatoshi’s grandmother stopped feeding the twins and sighed. “It’s not why he came.”

The young man felt the steak he swallowed start to froth in his mouth. He forced it down, and turned to his father. “What is the news that you have?”

“I got fired from my job.” Mr. Utsui said, a little weak. “Well, they laid us off—,”

Ms. Ushijima stood up and gathered the plates. “Your father is coming back to live with us until he finds something good. Hopefully in Tokyo so he can move out again.”

“Y-yes...” Mr. Utsui slouched, but he continued to eat his rice.

Wakatoshi ate his steak, and he quietly let his mother take it as he looked at Yuri’s hand. “Will you be taking care of the twins, then?” he said.

Mr. Utsui opened his mouth, a little confused, but he only sighed, “Ah- well yes. I will. I am also discussing that matter with your mother.”

“Do you need to go to court for it?” Wakatoshi continued to sit as Yuri held onto him, adjusting their feet from the long period of sitting on them.

“No, Oba-san will handle the matters.”

Wakatoshi nodded, and quietly asked his grandmother to be excused. Once she nodded, she eyed his left hand as he helped Yuri up.

“Your lover cannot go. I need to ask them some things as well.”

“Oba-san.” Wakatoshi bowed his head, “they need to stretch out their feet.”

“I don’t care. Sit by me, Yuri-tan.” Yuri looked back, and shooed Wakatoshi off. He bowed, only slightly, before sliding open the doors, and going outside.

The Ushijima Land stretched for only a couple of square acres. Wakatoshi sat down awkwardly by the lake.

It was technically a marsh but his mother never liked him calling it that. He fondly remembered how he invited his team here to train. Goshiki nearly passed out in the fields further West, if Grandmother Nijiko had not taken care of him. Wakatoshi smiled remembering how she pinched his cheeks and cooed, “Goshiki-Bo.”

“Wakatoshi.” He turned, slightly, and Mr. Utsui sat down next to him with a bit of difficulty. “Ah, what a nice night, hm?” he tried to hide his cough.

“Yes.” the young man said.

Mr. Utsui sighed, tapping his fingers and looking off at the side, towards the stars. “H-How is Shiratorizawa?”

“We won against Karasuno a few days ago. My team and I are going to nationals.”

Mr. Utsui smiled. “Ah, perfect, perfect, good for you. I’m happy that it makes you happy.” Wakatoshi looked down. He did not feel anything. The dream that had woken him up this morning has scared him. He had no idea why. “You trained hard for this, hm?”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad my son has come all this way. You’ve gotten so big and strong! Tell me, do the twins bother you? I hope the farm work isn't too much either. But you’re 18 now, and-,”

Wakatoshi stood up. He took a deep breath. He simply took off his kimono.

Mr. Utsui blinked. “‘Toshi?”

“I’m going for a run.” The boy ran without a word to his father. He was glad Mr. Utsui didn’t follow. Because Wakatoshi began to cry.

After a good ten minute run, Wakatoshi took yet another shower once he got back. He now wore his pajamas. A big shirt he had been gifted once from Mr. Utsui, and Pokemon themed pants he got from Satori a year ago.

Wakatoshi went to the entrance of his home, holding Yuri’s hands. It was time to say goodbye to Yuri-Chan. “Your Grandma is so weird.” they giggled, trying to hush their voice. That made no sense to him, really. Grandmother Nijiko heard everything.

“She is my blood. I got it from her.” Yuri giggled and kissed him softly, and he did in return. “You’re so weird~,”

“Yes.” He wanted to go inside already. He needed to think of what the matter was with his father. But he needed to also stall for Yuri to feel safe.

“Heh, okay, tomorrow is my practice.” They pulled him close and cooed, “I’ll see you?”

“Of course.” He stared at their features. He remembered hearing a few opposing volleyball players try to bully Yuri. He made sure they lost within two sets. For Yuri was like a flower to Wakatoshi- they had a timeless beauty. He loved staring at the shape of their eyes, how their nose scrunched ever so slightly when they smiled, and especially, when their irises dilated. He never felt such an intense feeling pull himself toward her.

They hugged him tightly. “Love you, ‘Toshi-Chan.”

“I love you too.”

After another kiss, Yuri-Chan’s aunt pulled up in her car. With another wave, Yuri had disappeared from his grasp. Wakatoshi was all alone.

☆彡

The Last Set. Wakatoshi took his stance as one of the outer blockers. He watched the ball be served by the Karasuno Crows. The Samurai Crow, Asahi, paused before spiking, causing Wakatoshi to miss his timing on the block. On the next turn, when Kenjiro sets, Wakatoshi returns his point as he spikes against the block. In games, he lets Satori do the blocking, since he is better. Wakatoshi is smart, he has no doubt about that in this sport, but he knows his teammate’s instinctual guess is better than anything. When Satori went left, Wakatoshi followed and blocked it correctly. He quietly nodded as Satori beamed with pride.

After another few more scores, Wakatoshi blinked at the sudden point Karasuno took. His eyebrows were raised as he drank his water. He was surprised by the new attack Karasuno made. Never in his years of volleyball research, of play, did he believe it could work against his strong team, or actually score. They were extremely fearless.

Wakatoshi frowned at himself when Reon missed. But now he can make a point to honor him, and also win back the lead. As he spiked, he spotted the little short Libero, the Lightning Bolt Crow Yu. He frowned, and he spiked quickly to his left. It was quick, causing a jolt of pain to his shoulder, but it did the trick for them to get a point.

Despite that, the Blond Crow, Kei, tried to go against him. Which made him annoyed. This tiny blocker, tried to go against his immeasurable strength? Wakatoshi huffed quietly.

Wakatoshi hated how Kei knew how to one touch, how to time his spikes perfectly. But he didn’t even have the strength like Satori did. He was just a wannabe Satori. And no one is like Satori. And such thoughts, that the young man had, made his strength greater with the stress of the Blond Crow. Kei made a grave mistake. Pissing off the Miracle Boy.

With the next point to be made, and with his new power up that Kei unknowingly gave Wakatoshi, the Miracle Boy then, out of pure anger, made sure he could not play. Using his entire body weight, he made sure that Kei was out. Against Kei’s perfect block, Wakatoshi had spiked so hard to Kei’s right fingers, he heard the crack.

As Wakatoshi landed, he turned away. He had scored. And Kei would be gone.

After Karasuno’s kerfuffle of Kei’s condition, now Wakatoshi could serve. Now that the Blond Crow was gone, just a few more points were made by him and Wakatoshi could see Father.

“Bring it!” Karasuno yelled.

Bring it? Wakatoshi thought. How amusing. He will. He threw the ball up, jumped, and struck it hard. The Samurai Crow hit it in the air, his skin turning red from impact. Typical. Karasuno was playing yet another synchronized attack. But Wakatoshi saw how Satori eyed Sugawara’s shoes, and jumped immediately. The Captain relaxed at seeing Satori’s correct guess, and watched. He watched Satori glare down at the boy, a blush blooming on his pale cheeks. Wakatoshi could not help but smirk to himself as well.

The Eagles were soaring far above the Crows.

The Last Set. Wakatoshi, being a not loud person, clapped for Satori as the rest of his team screamed. Satori’s blocks were always one to be celebrated. His skills were amazing, and were an important asset to the team.

After switching sides, Wakatoshi served. But he can feel himself getting tired, as he jumped he got a blurry vision and hit the ball to the net. He makes a genuine apology, deciding to let his team do some more of the heavy lifting. After all, the Blond Crow was gone.

But seeing the Chibi-Chan, Shoyo Hinata, Wakatoshi stood taller. He scowled at the boy. Kenjiro sensed his anger, and set the ball to the Ace. Now he spiked it down. But no. As if the boy was blessed only with his speed, he saw, in awe, how the boy caught the damn ball with his face. Satori missed his spike, the two comrades tched at the boy. Wakatoshi could feel his and Satori’s hatred at the boy’s talentless smile. Even more so, what made Wakatoshi steam further was that Shoyo still scored points. Not only was he reckless, he always just went for his head. It made the Ace sick to his stomach. Ungrateful runt.

Wakatoshi had not doubted he wouldn’t win, but now he wanted to crush the small boy. He wanted to win just as bad as he did.

After the next loss, due to Satori’s overthinking, Wakatoshi tried not to chuckle at seeing Satori get yelled at by the Coach. Despite the hilarity, now the Captain had to make up for Satori’s lost concentration. Right now he couldn’t depend on him. Right now he needs to win. Even if Satori can’t pick up his slack.

The first years’ reckless quick attack. Wakatoshi hated it. Speed was all he had. Nothing like the great rival Wakatoshi had expected him to be; no, just Stupid, Small, Sly Shoyo.

Wakatoshi can hear Yuri-Chan cheer loudly from the bleachers with his school. He heard his school cheer proudly after Eita’s no touch serve, only to find Karasuno's ridiculous cheering. Now he turned around, to his team, and he furrowed his brows. He looked upon their glistening faces. “We Shall Finish This.” Now all of Shiratorizawa sang aloud. Perfect. A traditional song. A traditional strength of his. He will beat all of Karasuno, if he has to, to the ground.

Wakatoshi watched as Shoyo reflected his spike, and made what should’ve been his point, theirs. He never wanted anything more than to crush Shoyo as he did to Kei. He clenched his fists and turned away.

Goshiki talked. Gushed about the Shrimp. “Can you believe it, Wakatoshi? It’s like his speed can power through your strength!” The Ace said nothing in response.

Stupid Shoyo....he shouldn’t have done that at all.

Goshiki was trying to prove himself, to help Wakatoshi’s previous loss- Wakatoshi felt like he was trying to watch paint dry.

In retaliation, Wakatoshi hit hard against the New Crow despite the Samurai Crow’s time block that he copied from the Blond Crow. But now he felt his arm throb. Store. He would need to wait until he can use all of his strength to beat them. To finish this. But first, Wakatoshi needed to calm himself down.

He needed a replacement.

Wakatoshi turned to the smaller, youngest member. He put his hand on his shoulder, and made strong eye contact. “Goshiki. Do not panic, you have much talent. Let us finish this.”

Wakatoshi moved out of the way, and he caught his breath. Goshiki made a great point. As he planned. As he should. So he can finish beautifully. It was often like the paintings his Uncle Hideaki would make, little colors mixing in, adding up to the pine forests next to the Ushijima Acres. What Goshiki did was pure art. With a serve to get them back in the lead. With Goshiki’s now flared ego, Wakatoshi knew he could lead this. He had successfully stored up enough energy, and calmed himself down-

A tie.

He noticed Coach staring at him. As Captain, as Ace, as a Volleyball Player. He needed to win for him as well. He lowered his stance. Kenjiro made the set to, The Traditional Wakatoshi, The Traditional Strength, The God, spiked hard to the Libero Crow. The ball flew past.

One More Point. Wakatoshi heard. One More Point. Because they are stronger.

But who came running back? Just as they were winning, for one more point. The Blond Crow had flown back to the game.

The Last Set. 15 Shiratorizawa. 14 Karasuno.

Wakatoshi wanted to crush his dreams, and now his other fingers. Yunohama came in, but Satori read failed on a part of the play against Tobio. Wakatoshi wanted to say something to the Blond Crow. But he realized he did not despise him like Shoyo. Only found him as an obstacle to crush.

Wakatoshi reminded Kenjiro. “Use me mercilessly.” He had enough stamina. He needed to be ready to beat the dreams of these foolish crows. As Reon made the ball go up, Wakatoshi struck Kenjiro’s fake set, right at Kei. He stared him down during their fall. He felt himself puff out his chest. He talked with his glowing eyes, as if saying, I can beat you.

Wakatoshi needed to serve again, but at the stupid Libero. He felt his thighs shake as he readied himself. He leaped up high, and hit the net to fool them.

But it didn’t work.

Satori couldn’t block the return attack. And now Karasuno was in the lead. Despite how hard Wakatoshi used his strength to get through the Blond Crow. During Coach’s timeout, Wakatoshi squeezed the pouches the twins had packed for him. Every game. Every practice. The twins packed him a little juice pouch.

He relaxed. His legs really needed to sit. A lot. Despite how tired he was from that run, he caught his breath. Kenjiro asked if he can still be used. He saw his teammate’s red, exhausted faces. This game was worrying them. Karasuno was in the lead.

Wakatoshi agreed with a warm smile. Because now he can win, with real, strong teamwork. Everyone depended on him. “Use me.”

On the court, the Libero saved it from the Samurai crow’s attack. Meaning he can serve, and he- It didn’t count. He tried to push it far. But his shoulder ached. Stupid Shoyo. Too late. He was too quick. Wakatoshi felt his muscles ache, like quiet screams.

This time, he spiked inside. Stupid Shoyo.

Wakatoshi was breathing heavily. But, he looked up, and grunted out of happiness. Stupid Shoyo!! He thought to himself.

Reon served. But, Shoyo made the next point.

Stupid Shoyo.

Wakatoshi smiled though, when Shoyo tried to quick attack, and Satori blocked it. But he didn’t grimace out of disappointment. He only kept thinking.

Stupid Shoyo.

Wakatoshi watched the ball on the next attack. He watched Hinata not jump. His legs froze. Stupid Shoyo. He congratulated Goshiki on the new point, with a nod as he went to the net.

He watched the ball slowly fall as a new play began. Another point-

The Libero. Wakatoshi felt the ball slip through his block. He hated the feeling as he grimaced at the passing and quick sting to his pinky. Wakatoshi stood and watched the Blond Crow figure out their attacks, he couldn’t help but now feel the same sense of annoyance as with Shoyo. He needed to truly show them who was going to win.

The Last Set. Hinata served. They do a minus tempo back attack. Shoyo spiked at Taichi. When he failed, Wakatoshi picked it up and yelled at his server. It’s time. Merciless Attack.

He wanted to hit. He wanted to hit Stupid Shoyo’s face so hard. Kenjiro noted Wakatoshi’s burning fury. Goshiki whimpered under his breath as he ran. But Wakatoshi flew up, and he spiked it to three blockers. But he spiked it right at their setter.

No point. The ball went up.

His nose flared, and he grunted underneath his breath.

Those crows.

Those.

Those damn crows.

THOSE BASTARD CROWS DARED DEFY HIM. HE HAD NEVER FELT SUCH HEAT IN HIS BODY; AS IF LAVA HAD BEEN SPURTING OUT OF HIM IN RAGE. SUCH ANGER INSIDE HIM AS HE SAW THE KARASUNO CROWS WEAKLY FIGHT; SUCH ANGER INSIDE HIM AS HE SAW THE KARASUNO WEAKLY TRY AND CONTINUE TO FIGHT AGAINST HIS STRENGTH. HE WAS PINNING THEM DOWN.

THE BALD CROW PICKED IT UP. CHANCE BALL.

WAKATOSHI COULDN’T STOP. HE NEEDED TO FIGHT.

STUPID SHOYO NEEDED TO LOSE!

This time, Shoyo flew up in the all out quick attack. Wakatoshi saw the ball. Where it went. Down. On his side. He felt his throat being choked, by someone.

Beneath him.

Wakatoshi saw it. He shook Shoyo’s hand and walked away. His face was grim. He saw Coach;s face staring at Shoyo. He noted how Satori was painted, with a tear falling down his face. How Goshiki sobbed. Reon staring at his hand. The Libero panting, his face a bright red.

Wakatoshi heard it. A flat thanks. No one spoke. Except the single mutter, “I thought we couldn’t lose.”

Wakatoshi smelled the salt, he saw the youngest shake and cry, hugging his broad body. A single, disappointed turn from the Coach. A flat, “hit 100 serves when we get back.”

“Wakatoshi, didn’t you get mad?” Satori asked.

Wakatoshi felt his body relax. His inner thigh was being stretched out. He paused. “I wanted to say I am stronger than them. Isn’t that childish? I wanted to say it.”

“Childish reasons are what drives us. What a great game.” A pause. “I’m quitting volleyball. I’m going to watch you on TV and brag about how we were best friends.” Satori giggled. “It’ll be fun to be interviewed about you when you get big and famous!”

21 Karasuno. 19 Shiratorizawa.

He turned away to the bright smiles of the first year duo. The Great Eagles had lost their feathers.

Wakatoshi woke up with a gasp as he held his throat. He panted, beads of sweat dripping down his bare chest. He groaned quietly, and he held his head.

It was a dream. A Dream.

Stupid Shoyo...he had invaded his dreams. And Wakatoshi looked at his left hand. He held the trophy.

He had held the trophy. Not the Karasuno Crows. He did. He touched it. And no one else could ever take that feeling away from him.

Wakatoshi turned on the bath again in his personal restroom, and got in. He sat in complete silence, and he filled the bucket with water. He dumped it upon himself. It was cold. He let his body shiver. He let himself sink as he weakly washed himself.

He heard his dad snore a few rooms down. But the worst thing that Wakatoshi did that night was cry.

☆彡

Wakatoshi knocked on the door to Coach Washijo’s room. “Wakatoshi-kun, come in.”

The boy walked inside, and blinked softly. He wore his school uniform, freshly ironed. “Coach Washijo. May I sit down?”

“Of course.” Wakatoshi pulled out the chair, and sat, he looked at his feet. Coach Washijo sighed, and he looked to the windows. “You know it, hm?”

Wakatoshi nodded. “We do not deserve this trophy.”

“I am already surprised you finished your punishment. I am extremely disappointed by the fact you brought the Chibi-Chan on our school grounds before. And for the game itself, Captain.”

Wakatoshi moved the chairs aside and he got on his knees, bowing his head. “I do not deserve the title as Captain.”

“Neither does anyone else on the team, son. But, I was the one who called you in here,” Coach Washijo went to him, and tapped his back. Wakatoshi slowly got up, and looked down. “I am proud. Don’t tell the others this, Wakatoshi-kun. That was a close game. I need you to practice with everyone. Get everyone ready for the Nationals. You deserve it.”

Wakatoshi bowed. “Thank you, Coach.”

As he left, his mind became fogged. How, how could he have even let himself be seen like that? Coach knew. Coach and he are the only ones, only ones who know the Karasunos were so, so so close to becoming the winners.

So.

Close.

Wakatoshi turned to the restroom quickly, and he began to breathe heavily. He loosened his tie as he stared into the sink. That close. Two points away from his dreams, his father, everything he had known into the sink, washed away because of Shoyo.

“STUPID SHOYO!”

With the force of thunder, he punched the mirror. He panted, and looked at his reflection. The mirror didn’t shatter. The boy sighed as he turned on the sink, and washed his face. He rinsed it, as the water turned hot. Hot. Hot. Hot-

He held onto the sink, gasping for air. He remembered it. He remembered his mother scrubbing him fiercely with a wood scrubber. “Wakatoshi you need to start scrubbing!” She picked at his hair. “You need to start getting off those dead skin cells!” She ripped off anything that came off him. “Or else no one will like you! You wanna end up like your Dad? I married him out of pity! He was supposed to give me money!”

Wakatoshi held onto the sink, panting again as he washed his face. No. No he did not want to be like his father. Injured. No, that's why he ate well. He treated his body well. Run no less than five laps around the acres. Avoid the tree stump to the right. He could never, ever end up like his dad.

He threw his head up and panted as he stared at himself. His skin was pink. He felt nothing on his skin. He only sighed. He grabbed the paper towels and wiped his face. He started to cry.

He was so close to ending up like his Dad. Like Tooru. No. He is strong. He got to Nationals.

He’s living his true, and only dream.

Then why is The Miracle Boy panicking?

☆彡

The lunch room was bustled, filled with happy and chattering students from the game that happened a week ago. The chefs served sushi today. Yuri was away in the auditorium for practice.

Wakatoshi ate with his team. Satori smiled. “Wow! Did Yuri give you good luck concerts for their concert, Wakatoshi-kun?”

“No.” he responded, eating a salmon roll after.

Eita sighed, “Well, I hear they’re playing with that new transfer, Choboyo-kun.”

Wakatoshi looked up, and scowled. “Oh.”

“Ooh, Eita-kun you’re going to get Wakatoshi-kun so angry!!” Satori laughed.

Wakatoshi continued to eat, and he frowned as he looked down. It was one of his worst flaws. Jealousy. Shoyo. Tooru. Despite how they collapsed, how they looked up in anger, he knew they still probably had nice days. Tooru probably was nice with his nephew. Shoyo had hugged his best friends. Wakatoshi had his teammates and the twins. Yuri and he had been dating for a year, four months, and 27 days. The thought of Yuri being with another boy, of course it was rational he would get upset.

Besides, Yuri never told him of anything remotely close to the concert for that night. He continued to eat. He would tell them later.

☆彡

Wakatoshi slammed the ball against the ball in a beat. One two, one two three. He remembered the beat from a lullaby his Uncle Ushijima Hideaki sang to him. He threw the ball up, and ran, staring at the ball. He wanted nothing more, like Left Handing Hideaki, than to show his strength. He hit the other side of the net.

Satori, Goshiki, and Kenjiro were across Wakatoshi. Taichi and Eita were with Wakatoshi. He watched as Satori took the first hit, giving Kenjiro time to serve to Goshiki. Wakatoshi moved with Taichi to go for a block. Wakatoshi jumped early, but blocked Goshiki’s spike.

“One touch!” Taichi yelled. He jumped down, as Wakatoshi quickly caught the ball and moved it up. Eita made a pretty decent set. Wakatoshi did not want to upset him by saying it was much too far from the net, but he jumped.

Satori jumped perfectly. A great timing block.

Wakatoshi froze. He saw Satori’s crazy blood red eyes flash into the Blond Crow. Wakatoshi smacked down the ball.

“FUCK!”

The game stopped, and everyone went to Satori’s hand. He winced quietly, and he flexed his middle finger. His comrades gasped out of grotesque. “Wakatoshi-kun! Shit-, you do scare me!”

“Sorry.” Wakatoshi panted. He was sweaty. He was sticky and sweaty. He wanted to shower.

“Is everything—?” Coach Saito started.

“Let’s put Hayato in while we practice.” Wakatoshi grabbed the ball, walking over. “We need to make sure we win the next game.”

“Captain, we did win.” Goshiki gently took Satori close, wrapping his fingers with a tape.

Wakatoshi scowled. He didn’t want to admit to his comrades they barely won. Stupid Shoyo almost took away their name of the Great Eagles. But he turned away. “One more game, then Eita and I shall take Satori to Nurse Yui.”

Everyone gave a hesitant agreement. Wakatoshi sighed, he banged the ball against the wooden ground. He looked across the net.

Six players in black and orange uniforms. Goshiki’s hair had faded to the Captain Crow. The foolish Lightning Libero Crow. Kenjiro looked so much like Tobio.

Wakatoshi twitched. He threw the ball up. Not again. Not again. He leaped into the air, and he felt- no he saw Goshiki move. Shoyo. He spiked hard, past Hayato, past Goshiki’s defense, so hard the ball had flown to the ceiling, and had gotten stuck in a beam.

Wakatoshi panted, his muscles spasming, and he looked at Goshiki with anger. He showed him. He showed him he is the strongest. He showed him no matter how hard he would train like Tooru he would not—

Satori gripped his arm. Wakatoshi stopped breathing. His best friend frowned. “Wakatoshi. You won.”

☆彡

Yuri smiled and they held Wakatoshi’s hand. They had been wandering the neighborhood for awhile, and now Yuri was just beginning to look at the music stores and babbling about their new deep desire for something about a gem. They said it would make the music sound crystal clear.

“Is it not clear already?” The boy asked.

“Silly! No!! It needs to be perfect for the concert!”

The concert. Wakatoshi followed them around, and after the eighth story about how they loved little stuffed animals, he asked, “Who is Choboyo?”

“And- huh? Oh! Choboyo-Senpai! He’s in university, so he offered to play with me! He’s a little bit much though...”

Wakatoshi went closer as Yuri continued in telling their story. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yuri looked over and sighed. “Because look at you! Wakatoshi-Chan, you’re slouching. Don’t worry, he’s only in the background of my performance for tomorrow. Now come on! Chin up~! I need to pick out a good outfit for tomorrow! I wanted you to help!”

Wakatoshi was too tired to disagree, despite him having promised his mother to babysit the twins. That morning. He knew Grandmother Nijiko would tell Ms. Ushijima, and he knew he would be subjected to the marsh cleaning, but, seeing Yuri’s smile as they picked out a strawberry shirt for their suit, was enough for him to think;

“Who cares?”

Wakatoshi was benched. Coach Saito had explained to Wakatoshi that he had to maintain his speed before he could be put back on the court. Which was perfect. During lunch, privately, he practiced. It was better for him then.

No more Karasuno Crows.

But tonight, the concert hall had changed. However, Wakatoshi's face was non wipeable of his scowl. He wore a hand me down of Mr. Utsui’s suit. It smelled horrible. It was stiff.

“Ah~, Yuri-kun!” Choboyo was indeed a young man, with a stubble, messy and sleek white hair, his eyes a never-ending black.

Wakatoshi scowled as he watched Yuri hug him. Yuri wore a lovely green suit, their hair pulled back.

They were so beautiful.

“Choboyo! This is my boyfriend, Ushijima Wakatoshi. He’s a volleyball player- He’s going to the National Championship!”

The young men stared at each other. Wakatoshi nodded. “Good luck.”

“We say break a leg, actually.” He only despised him even more, now. “Come on, Yuri,” Wakatoshi eyed his hand. His right hand lingered on Yuri’s waist, on their shoulders, and on their hands.

Wakatoshi sighed to himself.

Yuri turned. “Is something wrong?” Choboyo also looked, raising a white eyebrow of his. Wakatoshi gripped his fists and he scowled at Choboyo.

“You like Yuri-Chan. My partner.”

“Wakatoshi—!”

“I won’t lie.” Choboyo took his hands off Yuri, “They’re very attractive.”

Wakatoshi widened his eyes. He didn’t expect the man to just admit it. It was almost like he was trying to be a pervert.

“E-excuse us,” Yuri put a hand to Choboyo’s chest. “I-I’ll be right there.” Yuri sighed as Choboyo smirked to himself, kissed their hand, and walked away.

Wakatoshi stepped closer. “Do you not see this? He’s a pervert.”

“It’s one performance,” Yuri said, rubbing their arm. “Don’t you realize this is why I’ve been asking you to be with me? W-why I’ve been playing more around you, and not practicing here? I know.”

He blinked. He wanted to say something. Anything. He gulped. He blinked. “Yuri-Chan. I do not think you should play with him.”

Yuri looked up with teary eyes. “If you’re not going to be here to support me right now, I-I want you to leave. I can’t do this right now, ‘Toshi. I want to take a break.”

He gulped. “Yuri, perhaps you should think straight. D-don’t—.”

“I’ll see you around.” They turned around, and just like that, Wakatoshi again, was alone.

☆彡

Wakatoshi locked the door behind him. He sat on his bed. It creaked. Across the hall, he heard the twins.

The twins.

He got up as fast as he could, and he went to their room. Everything in the room was painted pink, and had little birds that twittered happily with the characters of bird songs next to their beaks. The room was split into Mayumi’s play space, and then Kazane’s.

Wakatoshi squatted down.

The twins were on the floor, Mayumi’s foot was in her mouth. Kazane was trying to climb back in her crib. Her left hand was on the crib. Wakatoshi picked up Kazane, and started to hum.

Before he had heard his mother and father fight, he actually wanted to sing. He remembered seeing his father’s sisters all perform and sing. It made him stare in awe. The twirling of their batons, of their voices, their silks. Wakatoshi adored it. He once thought of himself there, dancing.

It was Grandfather Ushijima Touma who frowned at catching him. “Nijiko.” he had stated firmly. “He is pretending to be a daughter.” Wakatoshi had never felt such pain as he did that evening.

But being an artist was worse. That was when they discovered he had a tendency to write with his left hand. Just like the exiled Uncle Hideaki. He was supposedly in Germany.

“You had let him draw?!” cried Ms. Ushijima. Her parents stood next to her. She gripped his hand. “Does this look right to you? Huh, Takashi?!”

It was only his father. Little, nothing for brains, Mr. Utsui, who stood in front of his son. “He’s just a boy! He’ll use it for-for something great! You just wait!”

Wakatoshi picked up Mayumi as well, and began to hum. He began to quietly sing the lullaby. An old song. It was about change. About the discovery of an island. About how the tide changed with each roll onto the warm sand. Yes, everything to the nude eye was the same, but change happened. With tradition, came slow, but sure, change.

He lifted his baby sisters above him. He teared up. “This forbidden, new world, on a summer day we meet.” Mayumi was the only one awake now. He hummed as he knelt beside her. “On a summer day, we will meet again, Imoto-san.”

“Wakatoshi?” The boy turned, with teary eyes as Mayumi drifted into sleep. Mr. Utsui stood there, his mouth slack open. He closed it. “I didn’t know you sang.”

“Me either.” Wakatoshi stood up.

Mr. Utsui looked away, “Ah- well, Wakatoshi, why don’t we go outside?” He nodded and stood, awkwardly following him outside.

The sun was setting to the west of the Ushijima Acres. Wakatoshi sat on an old swing. Mr. Utsui sat next to him. Wakatoshi made sure not to look at his father; for he smelled horribly.

“Son, I- well, I have some news about you and your sisters.” Wakatoshi looked at him. Mr. Utsui had gained many splotches of white on his face, and wrinkles.

“Yes?”

“I got a job out of Miyagi Prefecture. I’m taking the twins with me. You will continue to live with your mother.”

Wakatoshi paused. He looked out at the sunset. “No.”

Mr. Utsui wheezed out of his age, “I beg your pardon?”

“You have not been here for the divorce. You were not there for Oka-san when she gave birth. You were not there to take care of the girls. You were not even here for me.” Wakatoshi looked at the sun, and it disappeared.

“You do not deserve the twins.”

The boy got up, before he stopped. His shirt was caught on something. He tugged. To no avail. He tugged and he- Wakatoshi had stumbled, back, he was trying to regain himself.

But everything flashed.

Yuri.

Kazane.

Mayumi.

Mr. Utsui.

Ms. Ushijima.

Grandmother Nijiko

Grandfather Touma.

Kei.

Shoyo.

Himself.

Wakatoshi had fallen into the marsh, and he had passed out into the water.

☆彡

Wakatoshi awoke, to Kazane biting his finger. He gasped, and he groaned. He began to gently flex his body, and groan again. “O-oka-san-?”

“Hold still.” Ms. Ushijima scrubbed his body. “You nearly drowned in the lake. Ugh, look at the water! Oka-san!” she cried. She wore a bra- she never wore such things. Sweatpants?

Were Satori’s theories true? Did alternate universes exist?

“Oka-san- agh- I-I cannot-,”

Ms. Ushijima smacked his face. Satori was wrong, alternate universes did not exist. “Still, I said! You banged up your knee pretty badly.”

Wakatoshi sat up, practically leapt up, but he moaned loudly in pain. “N-No, no. No- O-oka-san- please- I can’t-!”

“Shut up, you’ll heal if you sit still!”

Wakatoshi looked up, and started to cry. “I-I won’t win. Oka-san,” he hugged her, he cried in her neck. “I-I won't a-able to play! I’ll fail at nationals! Tell me!!” He held her tightly as he looked at her.

Ms. Ushijima stared down at her son.

Wakatoshi had clear snot on his upper lip. His tears were salty, and stained his cheeks as they dripped down into the tub. He was only in his bare underwear. The water was marshy. He had a rose colored bruise blossom on his knee.

Ms. Ushijima took his chin. “Listen to me, Wakatoshi. If you sit absolutely still, I’ll see what I can do. Just,” she heard the baby whimper.

“O-oni. . .” one of the twins started to cry.

Wakatoshi sniffled, and he looked at Kazane. Ms. Ushijima gave the baby to him. “Kazane-kun, go comfort your Oni-tan.”

“Oni~!” Kazane wrapped her chubby arms around him, then Mayumi as Ms. Ushijima placed her on him. Mayumi, adorably, finished her sister’s sentence, “tan!”

Wakatoshi smiled, and he softly cried, as Ms. Ushijima lifted up his right leg. “It’s alright, Wakatoshi-tan, I’m here.” She held it with care, and repeated, quietly as she wet some rags, “I’m here.”

☆彡

It was the night of the concert. Wakatoshi wore his school outfit, despite it being the weekend. He told his parents it’s on school grounds. They did not argue.

Goshiki found out about his injury. He had gotten the word out. Wakatoshi had been numb the entire night. He went to bed the night before, sleeping with his sisters in their room. He had awoken to their stuffed animals on his face.

Mr. Utsui chuckled about how their first word was for their elder brother. Grandmother Nijiko spoke nothing as she ate breakfast with him.

Satori sat next to Wakatoshi, wearing a hoodie, and he smiled. “Yuri-kun looks awfully pretty today, huh Wakatoshi-kun~?”

Wakatoshi said nothing. He only looked down. Strangely, he did not want to get up this morning. He did not want to do anything. He felt as if he should retire from life.

The Miracle Boy was supposed to be strong.

Never to get hurt.

And yet, here he was. Pathetically existing next to his family. He did not even mention to them that Yuri did not love him anymore. He did not tell anyone, either, of his sisters moving away from him.

They sat on his lap though, pacifiers in their mouths.

“Wakatoshi-kun, your sisters are so so so cute!” Satori laughed as he picked up Mayumi. She began to whine, aher pigtails bouncing as her blue eyes stared at Satori in fury. She fussed before Wakatoshi gently put her on his lap.

“She does not like to be held from under the arms. Only by her stomach, Despite her being ticklish there, she loves it.”

Satori smiled softly. “You love them a lot. Were they there for you when-?”

Wakatoshi nodded. “Yes. They were born right after. Oka-san was tired. They kept me company.” He paused. “I do not know what to do without them.”

Satori sighed softly, “I understand.”

The lights dimmed. A hush over the audience. The auditorium was huge and packed.

Yuri, and Choboyo came out. Yuri was so uncomfortable. Their eyes looked down at the ground. Choboyo grabbed the microphone. “Thank you, everyone, for our performance tonight! I gotta say- Yuri has something great planned out!”

The two turned to the middle of the stage. Yuri nodded. They held a different violin. It was not theirs.

Choboyo went to his grand piano proudly, and he looked at Yuri’s body, then at their eyes. They both looked at each other, finally, nodded and looked away. After a few seconds, Choboyo started off.

Wakatoshi hated it. He pounded a key, then followed it as if he was trying to sing a love song for Yuri.

Despite the famous classical song, it was still the one Yuri had played what seemed like eons ago. The Swan.

Here it went by the Carnival of Animals.

But Wakatoshi knew what Yuri was trying to replicate. But their music, their bow, the sound made Wakatoshi cringe.

It was not the joy, peaceful, calm song Yuri played in the land. Here, mixed in with Choboyo’s romantic noise; was their song of sorrow. They focused, as if on the music, and not on their own play.

Wakatoshi looked down. Two birds. One defeated. Another attack for more.

The song ended.

Wakatoshi clapped, his hands smacking like thunder, and Yuri looked at him, just for a moment. They went backstage, and the next duo came out. The song was the infamous Clair De Lune.

“Wakatoshi?”

He looked at his dad beside him. Mr. Utsui showered the night before due to falling in the marsh to save Wakatoshi. He had done his hair. He had also shaved.

“Your mother and I talked, we decided that I’ll live here. After my first paycheck I’ll get a good car, so I can drive in and out of the Prefecture. And, son?” Mr. Utsui moved in closer.

Wakatoshi suddenly teared up. When he was little, he remembered exactly how his father smelled when he protected him from the traditional rules that had ached his once frail bones.

Like hot sand.

Mr. Utsui, in that moment, murmured into Wakatoshi’s ear, as the song had ended, “I am so proud you got into Nationals. Keep working hard. Keep getting stronger for us.”

As Wakatoshi’s hot tears fell, he whispered, looking at his father, “T-Thank you, Oto-san.”

☆彡

Wakatoshi had bounced the ball. He stood firmly on his right leg. He breathed in deeply. He eyed his friend across from him, and Mr. Utsui who held the twins. Mayumi was on the sand, babbling and trying to eat it.

“Imoto-san, do not try to eat the sand, okay?” Wakatoshi looked across to his sister.

“Oni~!” Kazane cried with a laugh.

Wakatoshi chuckled, and he gently bounced the ball. The sand underneath his sneakers. His deep and panting breath. He looked at his friend with a soft smile.

Satori panted himself, his red hair sticking to his forehead. He only smiled widely with happiness.

Wakatoshi breathed deeply, and calmed himself.

Satori and he, underneath the midnight moon.

Wakatoshi served. Satori dived under and threw the ball up, before spiking. Wakatoshi, with great speed, blocked and Satori read him. Satori gathered himself again to throw the ball, set, then spike. Now Wakatoshi served it to himself, and he quickly set it. He now went to the left, and spiked hard right. Satori tried to follow for a moment, before he watched the ball slam beside him. Satori, however, blocked enough to make a dump. Wakatoshi nodded.

A great defense.

Satori smiled with a small breath of relief, “Wakatoshi-kun, I love playing with you, but you scare me.”

The young man smiled as he went underneath the net to get it. “I try my best to be a Strong Monster as well.”

“How scary!” Satori gasped, and Wakatoshi took the ball. He spun the ball as Mr. Utsui cheered happily.

“Go Wakatoshi-kun!”

“Are you okay? I know your dad is back.” Satori said quietly.

Wakatoshi turned around. “It’s okay. I-I’m not happy he is back.”

Satori widened his eyes. “Oh?”

Wakatoshi sat beside him against the barn. The Ushijima space was so peaceful now. Not in a flash as he usually saw it. Wakatoshi took a deep breath again. “He came to announce he lost his job. He told me he was happy and I was happy. Not that he was proud.” Wakatoshi began to practice throwing the ball up and setting, as if it was instinct. “I was thinking. I am not happy. We nearly lost, Satori.”

His friend looked up at the stars. “I wanted to quit after that game.”

Wakatoshi stopped. He looked at his friend. “But you have so much—,”

“Those memories won’t stop flowing. Once we win nationals, Wakatoshi-kun, that’s when I’ll stop. Seeing your smile hold that big, big trophy, that’s when I’ll quit. Because then you won’t need me, and I won’t need you anymore.” Satori smiled. “I love you.”

Wakatoshi opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it. He closed his eyes, before he looked at Satori. “I love you too, Satori. Thank you for being by my side.”

They both, slowly, turned to gaze at the stars.

“So, you’ll recommend me for a movie interview, right Wakatoshi-kun?”

“Perhaps.”

☆彡

Snow drifted down. It fell against Yuri’s umbrella.

“Wait!”

Yuri stopped walking, and took out their earbuds as they turned around. They widened their eyes. “Wakatoshi-ch-? What are you- Why are you running?” Yuri started.

Wakatoshi winced, and he sighed. He hid a huge dandelion bouquet behind his back, with a small box.

“Yuri-Chan.” the young man panted, “I-I am not the strongest. I lost a lot of things in the past few days. I gained some of them back.” He showed the bouquet, and the box.

“I should have focused on you, my flower. On your music. I went to your concert. You did not practice, did you? It is alright. I do not want to jump back to our relationship if you are not ready. I believe we should go back to the beginning, Yuri-Chan. If you like, we can go back to my farm, and I can listen to you play, and play, and play until we fall asleep.”

Wakatoshi, after a moment, opened the box. There was Yuri’s dream sapphire blue rosin. One swipe, said the ad on it, and the bow is brand new.

“I will always love you. But I was not okay. Now, if you take me back, I will be. Then I will never break that promise.”

Yuri looked at his big tearful eyes. “I love you, stupid!” Yuri cried and they jumped on him, tackling him. The couple held each other, with laughter and deep chuckles as they cuddled close in the soft winter wind. In an act of warmth, Yuri hugged. In an act of love, Wakatoshi kissed.

The couple was late for their classes that morning.

☆彡

Wakatoshi rinsed his face in the sink, lightly with cold water. Goshiki stood beside him by making faces. Reon patted the youngster’s back, and laughed. Eita instructed, but also listened to Kenjiro. Satori sang to himself.

The clinking of the lights above the young man began to go into a rhythm. His eyes tilted up, and he blinked. Once. Twice. And again.

He, and his teammates, were in a full purple volleyball outfit. The Number One on his shirt was bold white. His muscles flexed gently when he looked at his short olive hair. His eyes glimmered seeing where he was. How he was there.

The young man smiled to himself.

“Great Eagles.” The young man who played volleyball said, “Let’s finish this.”

#haikyu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyu angst #shiratorizawa #Shiratorizawa angst #ushijima angst #ushijima x y/n #hq ushijima #Shiratorizawa Nationals au #ushijima wakatoshi #dee writes #ushijima fluff #anime scenarios #haikyu scenarios #happy birthday Ushijima #:)

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codename-adler · 4 years ago

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foxes + onesies (1/9)

based off of that one post i saw and don’t remember, where people once caught Allison wandering around Fox Tower in a giraffe onesie, and i absolutely melted for her. here is the Foxes’ journey to getting a onesie each!

Allison

in the aftermath of the “mob war”, Allison still sees Betsy for counselling, mostly to cope with Seth’s death still, her ED and to process her childhood and teenage trauma

Betsy teaches her a lot about self-care (and not in Allison’s traditionnal definitions of self-care, which are: bottle it up, act out, burn through 500$ in clothes, repeat)

all in all, Allison has a lot to come to terms with by the end of the semester, and Betsy won’t be there as much in the summer, so she leaves her with a little list of self-care tips to look at when Ally feels overwhelmed

- pick a time to make yourself some tea, or try out some new ones and tell me about it next time

- try drawing with those wonderful pencils of yours, but in different art styles (because yes, Allison does have a fashion sketchbook. but silly doodles? abstract drawings? anatomy sketches? she never tried)

- watch movies by yourself, and for yourself, Allison

- since you love shopping and spending so much, find yourself a cozy thing, a soft thing that will only be for yourself, when you need to be reminded to love yourself and be gentle with yourself

those were the suggestions that stuck to Ally the most

so the next time she goes out to the mall with Dan and Renee, she doesn’t expect to find anything like Betsy suggested

she does look for some herbal tea at David’s Tea, and ends up getting some hibiscus + rose water green tea

but then they go to Walmart (she wants to gag)

fucking Walmart

the girls need some pads and tampons, and the gatorades are on sale (because all the Foxes, as a treat for winning the Championship and bc they all want to stay close after the hard year they endured, got to stay on campus for the whole summer (idc if it’s unrealistic, sue me, that’s how i roll))

for once, Allison follows Dan and Renee, without looking at anything, without touching anything (what if she catches it??)

then Renee wants to look for socks

that’s when Ally passes a rack of colorful onesies

one brushes the tip of her elbow, and wow it’s so soft

not at all the quality material she expected

she stops in her tracks, lets the girls go on to the underwear section, and really looks at the pajamas

there are lots of unicorns, and pandas, a few mouses, and two giraffes

bright yellow, light-spotted giraffes, with their little ears and antlers and all

the sewn-on eyes are closed and have cute little lashes details

Allison imagines herself wearing it and feels utterly stupid

but- she keeps running her fingers through the synthetic velvety material, mesmerized by its softness

she thinks back on Betsy’s list

the folks would absolutely loathe it. the high school bitches too. God, even Seth would say it’s fucking stupid. Nobody should ever be seen wearing that…

But I wouldn’t have to worry about my man-shoulders in it… or my stomach… or my thighs… I could even go braless, or wear just that cute little bralette I haven’t got the courage to wear yet… and I think Renee would agree it’s cute…

then she hears Betsy’s soothing voice in her head

But do you like it?

Yes. Yes I do.

and that’s how Allison takes down the onesie, cashes out and waits for the two other girls outside the Walmart entrance, feeling silly, and jitty, yet quite happy with herself

back at Fox Tower, she washes it immediately, only to stuff it back under her bed

it stays there for quite a few weeks, until it’s almost time for school to start again, her last year at PSU

the boys are out at the beach, Andrew and Neil are God-knows-where, Renee is meeting a friend, and Dan is out shopping with her Sisters

Ally is alone, and lonely

she’s craving something, something that feels close to how one of her nanny used to take care of her hair before bedtime, telling her stories of folklore around the world

guessing that nobody will be back before sundown, she reaches underneath her bed and takes out the giraffe onesie

she gets rid of her high-waisted skinny jeans, her silky cropped blouse and her high-heeled sandals in favor of Seth’s old Marvel boxer shorts, her baby blue bralette she still hasn’t worn, and the infamous onesie

and wow, it’s so baggy

as she buttons up the front, it almost feels like being wrapped up in a giant, fluffy pancake

she giggles to herself, like a little girl

until she goes to look at herself in the mirror, where she straight-up bursts out laughing

she feels so, so light

she puts on a pair of Renee’s fuzzy socks with the sticky soles and leaves her bedhair as it is

she spends the rest of the day on the couch, watching Barbie movies from the hidden collection she has in her closet while painting her real nails in rainbow colors

she makes herself a big cup of the tea she bought, and lights an ocean-breeze candle

between Barbie as the Island Princess and Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus, she even goes so far as going at the end of the hallway to buy some sugar-free gummy bears from the vending machine, completely forgetting herself…

of course, this is when the boys, including Andrew and Neil, are coming back from their day outdoors

she stops dead in her tracks when she turns around and sees them, a *giraffe* caught in the headlights

the boys only notice her because she stops moving so abruptly

she’s speechless

the boys, not so much

Kevin: *oblivious to the onesie situation* So you’re the one hoarding the healthy gummies. Dude give back some.

Matt: Oh, hi Ally… *raises his pointer finger, opens and closes his mouth in awe, lowers his arm back down* Cute?

Andrew: *his face says he doesn’t give a shit, but he’ll let the image make its way to his heart eventually* *very sneakily snaps an adorable pic for the group chat*

Neil: *whispering to Andrew, genuinely confused* I thought these were for babies? Do we qualify as babies? Why is Ally dressed like a baby, Andrew?

Nicky: BITCHHHHHH I shoulda made a bet on THAT!

Aaron: Well fuck. 60 points to Hufflepuff for cuteness. Ugh. I can’t believe I said “cute”. Jesus, I wanna vomit. Eurk.

Allison slowly makes her way back to her dorm room without a word, her cheeks flushed and her eyes to the ground, clutching her bag of gummies

she hasn’t felt this vulnerable since Seth’s passing

an hour later, she’s still hiding under her blankets as Renee and Dan file in

of course, they saw the photo posted to their group chat, and they heard everything from Matt and Nicky

Renee gets under the covers with Ally, and Dan proceeds to show off the goods she got with a very silly runway walk

they don’t say anything, until Neil sends a new picture on the GC

it’s a printed version of Andrew’s picture, pinned to the locker room wall with all the other photos they’ve accumulated

and everybody in the chat is dying of cuteness overload

Ally’s got that look of a toddler caught red handed, so open and genuine and surprised; her mouth is slighlty opened in an “o” shape; her mismatched fuzzy socks are peeking from underneath the bunched up fabric at her ankles; the hood is pulled up and slouching over her head…

but nobody, nobody, is making fun of her

we’re talking about the Foxes here. they never pull their punches.

so this? unexpected. shocking. astounding.

and right at the bottom of the picture, in shaky black marker: Baby Ally

with a poorly drawn heart next to it

in Neil’s unmistakeable handwriting

she cries

and never again is she ashamed of wandering around in her giraffe onesie

and if from then on, many Foxes gifts are soft things for her, well, that is called character development

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tinyboxxtink · 4 years ago

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“Helpless” *FINALE*

Mwahahaha I got around the un-even numbering. Well, this is it! I hope you’ve enjoyed this series as much as I enjoyed writing it. I really need to make a Master List of all my “works”, but if you wanna check out my other stuff just type “Rafael Barba Imagine” into the search bar of my page.

As always, big thanks to my lovies:

@wanniiieeee

@dumauier

@word-scribbless

@chasingeverybreakingwave

The COMPLETE Collection:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

And without further ado, the CONCLUSION!!!!

After your shower and you were in some clean pink scrubs, you decided it would probably be best to go look for the squad. Apparently you were still “a suspect”, so you didn’t want to make it look like you were trying to flee or something.

You found your way back to the waiting room, but only Fin and Carisi were still there.

“...Where’d Benson and Rollins go?” You asked, glancing around the area.

“Well it’s like 4 am, they both have kids, I’d told them we’d update them if anything happened with Barba,” Carisi told you.

“Which you can now do,” Fin added, grabbing his jacket off a chair.

“...I’m sorry, what?” you asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be ‘watching’ me or something?”

“They combed your street and found the gun, the idiots tossed it as they were driving. And as far as your whole ‘hustling’ business, if Barba vouches for you, I’m not gonna bother with a shitload of paperwork just because you got some money out of some old white dudes,” Fin chuckled.

“So you’re off the hook, and I’d really like to sleep in my own bed,” Carisi patted your back as he walked out with Fin.

“I--Are you sure? Olivia isn’t gonna--”

“Olivia’s gonna be a lot of things, but none of it matters legally speaking. So y'all need to work that out on your own,” Fin held up his hands like he was washing his hands of the drama.

“Right. Well I’m sure the doctor will call her,” You really didn’t want to have to talk to her anymore than you needed to.

“Right. Night, Y/N” Carisi waved as they continued to walk down the hallway and out the front doors.

Okay, so now you were alone. On your own. In a hospital. Great.

Suddenly, you remembered the magical sticker. You pulled it out of the scrubs pocket and stuck it to your shoulder. Then you turned to the big doors that read

“ICU: Approved Personnel ONLY”

Well, you were in scrubs.You took a deep breath and made a sign of the cross before you walked confidently through the doors. Hopefully people would just assume you were a nurse.

You were met on the other side with a bustle of doctors and nurses running around, patients being pushed through the hallways; lots of machines were beeping, and you could hear a CODE BLUE down the hall.

“Please don’t be Rafael Please don’t be Rafael…” you closed your eyes and whispered, but were quickly interrupted.

“Excuse me sweetie, are you lost?” An older male doctor tapped your shoulder.

“Oh um-- yeah YES. I am,” you lied. This is what you did best, just roll with it.

“It’s my first day, and I got separated from my group. We were doing rounds, and I believe our next room was the ADA?”

“The ADA…?” The doctor started typing in his tablet, as if someone would add “The ADA of New York” in his patient notes.

“I think his name is Ralph something,” you lied; a nurse wouldn’t be all on the up and up of law people, would they?

“Ah. Rafael Barba. Oh you’re right, it says VIP PATIENT here. He must be something special,”

“He really is,” You sighed, causing the doctor to look at you funny.

“I mean, so I’ve heard,”

“Well it says here DO NOT DISTURB, so I don’t believe you were doing rounds in his room…” The doctor raised an eyebrow as he tilted the tablet towards you. You saw “ROOM 304” next to Rafael’s name.

“Oh, you know what you’re right! I think they said we were NOT rounding on him, y’know cuz he’s the ADA,” You gent;y rubbed your shoulder against his. “I must’ve gotten mixed up because of your beautiful blue eyes,” you batted your lashes, to which the elderly doctor happily ate up.

“Oh well, no harm no foul,” He smiled.

“Ok well I’m sure I can find them, thank you doctor!” you gave him the cheesiest smile and a wink, walking away quickly. You made it into an elevator right before it closed. Luckily, the only other person in it was “Another” nurse, who looked like she might pass out right there in the elevator; she paid you no mind.

You hit FLOOR 3 and rode up to the floor, practically jumping out of the elevator. You turned to see signs that pointed 300-320 left and 320-340 right. You went left, searching the numbers until you saw 304. You looked around to make sure no one had noticed you definitely did not belong there, and when the coast was clear you opened the door slowly and snuck in the room.

“Excuse me, can I help you?”

Fuck, you were caught. You were running multiple scenarios of lies in your head as you turned around, but to your relief it was the nurse who had given you the sticker.

“Ah, I see it worked,” she gestured to the sticker on your uniform.

“It did, thank you so much,” You thanked her softly, your eyes moving towards Rafael’s still unconscious body. You immediately grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to him, stroking his hair.

“Hey...baby I’m here,” You whispered, wondering whether he could hear you or not.

“It says here he coded three times in surgery, but he came back,” The nurse read his chart off her tablet.

“Why….why would I want to know that?” you asked almost angrily.

“...Patients have a lot to do with their own response and recovery,” she replied. “I was just implying he was fighting like hell for something,” she smiled, making you smile for the first time since Rafael had left you at your apartment. God, that moment had been so perfect; how did you get here from there?

“I’ll put a DO NOT DISTURB” sign on the door, no one will bother you,” The nurse put a hand on your shoulder as she started to walk out. “I think he’s going to be okay sweetie, I really do,”

“Thanks,” You gave her a small nod, and she was gone. Leaving just you and Rafael, alone.

“So...I’ve never seen a guy work so hard to get me alone,” You chuckled, calling back to the first conversation you had at Forlini's. That seemed like a lifetime ago now.

“Hey so, they caught Arianna and those guys,” you kept talking, praying he was listening. “I think they’re gonna go to jail for a LONG time,” you stroked his hair.

“So, y’know obviously that means I’m out a roommate. Probably an apartment too, I don’t really know what Arianna did about that. Surely she didn’t just get out of a six month lease in the middle of the night, she must have just thought they could abandon the apartment.

“So, if you know of any fancy mahogany couches that are open, let me know,” You tried joking again with a fake laugh, but it just turned into tears.

“I’m so sorry, Rafael,” you whispered. “I never intended for any of this to happen. I should have never even talked to you, I should have just admired you from afar and sniffed your scotch glasses in private like a fucking creep,” you laughed for real between your tears.

“I just--” you started to talk again, but you felt Rafael’s hand squeeze yours.

“....R-Rafa?”

Suddenly, Rafael started to thrash and choke, his breathing tube was still breathing for him.

“NURSE!!! NURSE!!” You jumped up and screamed down the hall; your lucky nurse came rushing in. She quickly pulled the tube out and after a few gasping breaths, Rafael finally calmed down. He was conscious, but his eyes were barely open.

“Welcome back, Mr. Barba,” The nurse smiled. “I think you gave this one quite the scare,” She nodded to you, to which Barba gave the weakest smile.

He tried to speak, but just scratchy gibberish came from his mouth. But his beautiful green eyes were more open and had their sparkle back.

“Your throat will be sore for a while,” The nurse informed him. “....But everything else seems to be doing good!” She checked all of Rafael’s stats on his machines, and the different tubes coming out of his body.

“I’ll be back later-- let you two, catch up,” She gave you both a knowing smile, then walked out the door.

“I...told...you,” he hoarsely croaked.

“What? You told me what?!” You asked him frantically, as if this was some kind of ominous threat.

“I’d….,” He cleared his throat as you grabbed a water bottle off a nearby table.

“I told you, I’d fight for you,” He said almost completely normally after taking a swig of the water.

“...Yeah, well-- I think that was a bit much, don’t you, counselor?” You raised an eyebrow, implying taking a bullet for someone after the first date is a bit melodramatic.

“I mean, here,” he pointed to the bed.

“W-What?” you blinked in confusion.

“I fought to come back,” he took your hand and kissed the back of it. “For you,”

“Why?” you blinked again, still in awe.

“Because you asked me to,” He smiled, taking his free hand and stroking your hair back as you had been doing while he was out.

“Y-You heard all of that?!” you gasped.

“Well, I thought I had hallucinated it until you just confirmed it for me,” He gave you a mischievous smile.

“Oh my god,” You blushed and hit him softly, forgetting about his tubes and shoulders. He winced in pain, and you immediately started to comfort him again.

“Oh my GOD, what is wrong with me?! Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, carino. And I’m not done yet either,” his words made you stop fiddling with the wires and look him straight in the eyes.

“....Done what?”

“Done loving you, dummy,” he shook his head as if to say “DUH.”

“Oh my god you DID hear all of it!” You put your hands over your face, your face turning red. Then you realized what he had actually said.

“WAIT...did you just say…?” your eyes bugged out of your head.

“I love you, Y/N.” he smiled sweetly, squeezing your hand.

“Really? Are you sure? Because we can just--” He shut you up by leaning over and kissing you.

“Since I saw you sniff my scotch glass,” He cut you off. “I thought ‘I’m gonna marry that weird girl one day’,”

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down there mister,” You put your hands up. “I mean, you can almost die for me, but marriage? That seems a bit much,” You gave him a tongue-in-cheek smile.

“We’ll negotiate,” He smirked. “In the meantime…” He moved himself away on his bed, adjusting the wires to make a space. He patted it for you to get in.

“I...I don’t think these are made for two people, what if I break it?” You eyed the bed, trying to calculate the weight max.

“I’ll buy them another one,” he chuckled.

“Oh right, with your copious amounts of money,” you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Yeah, better spending it on that then more ties,” he smirked.

“NO. Never stop buying ties!” You giggled, climbing into the bed with him. He adjusted the arm that wasn’t in a sling around you. You snuggled into him, and he placed a kiss on your forehead. The feeling was back; the safe and warm feeling

And you knew in your heart, you’d never feel helpless again.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

if you’re still taking meet ugly asks, could you do 01 or 13 for sternclay? nsfw please

Here you go! I went with 1.

we were set up on a blind date but it went horribly, so now you message me every time you have a good date because you think your tips will help me in the future, you ass.

Bzzbzz

Joseph picks up his phone and regrets it before he’s even done reading the waiting message.

Barclay: See, this is how you dress for a date at a casual place.

It’s accompanied by a photo of a headless torso, sporting a Ramones T-shirt and blue jeans.

He deletes the message. He told that asshole he was in the suit because Hayes kept him late to finish a report and he didn’t want to be any more behind for their date than he already was.

No, you know what, he’s had enough of this.

J.S: He’s dressed like a college student. No one told me you were a cradle robber.

Barclay: Just trying to help you do better next time ;)

This is the same line he gives Joseph every time he sends one of these texts

“It was great, it felt like a real conversation instead of an interrogation.”

“See, what made tonight nice was he didn’t look at his phone even once.”

“Now, what made this nice is that he didn’t mistake another guy for me on the way in.”

He has reasons, explanations, things that could make him look more like a man who had a bad day and less like the poster boy for the horrors of blind dating. But the one time he tried sharing his side of things, Barclay responded that he wasn’t doing this to make sense of their shitty date, but to make it easier on the next guy.

It was the last date in a long line of increasingly desperate attempts by his loved ones to find someone, anyone, for him to be with; being married to his work fills all his needs. Leave it to his older sister to spot that it wasn’t meeting many of his wants.

Joseph tosses the phone away, retrieves his take-out leftovers from the fridge. As he munches reheated green mango chicken, the city heading out into Friday night revelry without him, he decides that while he’s not about to take dating advice from a guy who can’t pull his head out of his ass long enough to consider someone else’s perspective, Barclay makes one good point: there’s always a next time.

And there’s no moment like the present to start planning for it.

--------------------------------------------------------

Barclay cannot figure out why Logan chose this spot; it’s one step above gay cruising club. Not that he hasn’t had fun at those before, but he was hoping for somewhere quieter. Also somewhere with better food; you can tell a lot about a guy by what he orders, and fuck all about him when the only meal to be found is chips or the olive from a martini glass.

Still not the worst date he’s been on.

As Logan steers the conversation in promisingly steamy directions, Barclay glances at the bar and locks eyes with his biggest disappointment of the year. Joseph raises an eyebrow, then his face goes annoyingly neutral as he looks first at Logan and then to the bartender for another glass.

His date excuses himself and Barclay weighs how much of a dick he wants to be against how good Joseph looks tonight. He’s in a v-neck and a short jacket, dark-wash jeans making it easy to picture how satisfying hooking his legs over Barclays shoulders would be.

Barclay sidles up to the bar, leaning on it and smiling at Joseph, “You finally decide to put my advice to good use?”

“No.” Joseph replies, tarter than a cherry, and goes back to looking at his phone.

“Suit yourself, and have fun going home alone.”

The black-haired man squares his shoulders, turns so that Barclay gets a full-on view of a stunning face and sharp, blue eyes, “At least I won’t be going home with someone who’s using me for a prank video.”

“Pfft, whatever man, you’re just-” Barclay snaps his mouth shut as Joseph turns his phone, showing a Youtube channel hosted by none other than Logan.

“His modus operandi is to have viewers vote on which gay man he should go out with and string along the whole night until he reveals he’s straight.”

“I, I uh, that’s” his heart is in his shoes, “that’s not very nice.”

“That’s not all. There are three cameras recording your date.” Joseph points to three separate guys, “they’re using their phones, makes it hard to prove they’re not just texting or something else innocuous.”

He might cry. Worse, if he cries, he might owe Joseph an explanation.

“There you are baby, thought you’d run off.” Logan sets a hand on his arm and Barclay freezes, trying to work out a non-humiliating form of escape.

Joseph clears his throat, “Are you aware that recording people without their permission is illegal in this state?”

“Uh, no, but what the fuck does that have to do with me?”

“You, and those three gentleman you’re having film Mr. Cobb here, are all at risk of being charged with a misdemeanor.” Joseph’s voice is smooth and clear, utterly in control, and Barclay gets goosebumps as he pulls out his wallet and flashes an FBI badge, “I suggest you get out of here before you do something you regret.”

The quartet disappears in a cloud of body spray as Barclay slumps onto a stool and Joseph orders two more drinks, sliding one his way. Whiskey Soda, his favorite. He’d ordered it during their date.

They sip in silence for three songs before Joseph says, “I guess I passed the dubious honor of your worst date onto someone else.”

“You’re still a strong runner up.” It’s mean, but Barclay isn’t feeling very chipper right now.

“Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad! I was trying to learn as much about you as I could while switching from work mode to a date.”

“You made me feel like I was doing all the work!”

“If you’d given me more than a half hour of your time I could have fixed that.”

“Nah, I know when a date is doomed. No point in dragging it out. It wasn’t going to be fun.”

“I can be fun!” Joseph knocks back the rest of his drink, “I’ll prove it.”

Barclay snorts, “how?”

“I want a do over. Right now.” Lights dance across his skin and Barclay gets a whiff of gin and mint as he leans so they’re almost nose to nose, “Unless you’re afraid you’ll be the dud this time.”

“You’re on.” Barclay growls, “but don’t get your hopes up.”

------------------------------------------------

Either his pillow sprouted fur overnight, or Joseph isn’t where he should be.

He cracks his eyes open, squinting in the muted, grey light sneaking in under the curtains. The room, while tidy, isn’t his, and the clock on the wall tells him he’s starting his Saturday out with oversleeping.

Barclay is sound asleep beside him, his broad, hairy chest rising and falling soothingly. A cursory peek under the blankets shows he’s a naked as Joseph is. As the agent slips from the bed and hunts down his clothes, he starts to remember why.

They’d done something in the club bathroom, a blow-job, that’s right, and the instant Barclay dragged him into his apartment Joseph shoved him onto the bed, yanked his pants off, and returned the favor. He remembers, as he surrenders to going commando rather than wear his pre-cum stained boxer briefs, wanting to sleep with his head on Barclay’s stomach, cum still on his lips, but the cook made a very convincing argument to come up and kiss him instead.

His pants are back on when his phone lights up from it’s spot on the floor.

Alert: Snowstorm predicted to last until 5 pm Sunday. Travel limited, recommended for emergencies only. At least five feet of snow predicted.

“Shit” he whispers, pushing the curtain aside to discover a world of smooth, white roof tops and impassable streets.

Jinglejingle

He spins, startled, as what he thought was a black pillow shakes out it’s ears and rises from a cushion at the foot of the bed. It’s the single most absurd dog he’s ever seen, like someone smushed a corgi and a Rottweiler together. It blinks at him, cocks it’s head, and then shifts its attention to the bed.

“Please don’t jump.” Maybe he can still sneak out on foot, or find somewhere else to wait out the storm.

The dog launches it’s tubular body onto Barclay, who “oofs” and is laughing before he even opens his eyes.

“Hey boy, yeah, I know, I know, didn’t let you in until way after bedtime.” The cooks deep voice is scratchy with sleep. The dog wiggles and digs at the blankets on his chest as he turns his head, smiling Joseph’s way, “morning babe.”

“Good morning.” Throwing himself out the window would result in hypothermia. Also a broken ankle. So no luck there.

Barclay notices his jeans, “Oh, uh, if you need to go that’s cool. I, uh” he yawns “I have a policy of making breakfast after a hook-up, but if you’re in a hurry I can just get you some coffee for the road. C’mon Sass, let me up.”

“I, um, I can stay. I don’t have much choice.”

“What do you--oh fuck, I knew we were getting snow this weekend but no one said anything about a fucking blizzard. Guess you’re crashing here for the weekend.”

“I guess so.”

Barclay’s smile shrinks, “Is that a shitty outcome?”

“No! Or, um, I just” Joseph sits on the bed, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t want to impose. I was trying to get out of here so I wouldn’t make things awkward since I, um, I don’t do this much.”

“Gotta say that was kinda obvious.” It’s a gentle tease, Barclay’s fingers flipping through his phone, “huh, when did I take a video last night?”

“I think you--oh, oh my lord.” Joseph claps his hands over his mouth, blushing at the memory.

“What, did I talk you into karaoke or somethi--holy fuck.” Barclay scoots to where Joseph is frozen, holding the screen where they can both see it. The same face growing excited beside him is looking up at the camera, lips wrapped around Joseph’s cock as a voice urges him on.

“You like that, big guy?”

Barclay nods, pulls off so he can drag his tongue up the shaft with a grin. Then he swallows it almost to the base, Joseph’s hand flying past the lens to stifle a moan.

“That’s it, show me how much you like it, s-so the next time you feel like sending me a snarky text you can watch this and remember just how much fucking fun you had sucking my dickAH.” A laugh as Barclay sits back on his heels, pulling off the condom.

“C’mon blue eyes, bet, bet you’re gonna look great when you cum, fuck, think I ruined these pants just watching you. Heh, you like that, like getting me hard and wet on the fucking bathroom floor.”

“Usually it’s, it’s the other waAAaay aroundohfuck, shit.” Cum spatters across Barclay’s face. The cook licks his lips, still smiling, as the camera sinks to his level, Joseph giggling behind it, “here, let, let me clean you up.”

“Don’t want everyone else to see your cum all over me?"

“Nngn. I, I mean no, not in actuality.” Joseph’s hand returns to the frame, gently cleaning Barclay’s cheek with toilet paper.

The video ends there. Joseph is red from his hips to his cheeks, but not so embarrassed that he misses Barclay rubbing his thighs together. Then the cook meets his eyes and sets the phone aside.

“I can delete it. Know your face isn’t in it but if you’re more comfortable with it gone, it’s gone.”

The offer alone calms him, “No, no it’s okay. Thank you for offering. I, um, since I’ll be here awhile, can I use your shower?”

“Sure, it’s just through there.” He tips his head at the door in the left wall, grabbing a robe from the door and heading into the chilly apartment, Sass clickclick-ing on the hardwood after him.

As always, the world is more manageable when he’s clean. A pair of sweatpants and a thick, blue sweater are waiting for him on the bed, and coffee-swirled air coaxes him into the kitchen. It’s small but immaculately organized, Barclay moving from stove to cabinet to fridge and back again in an intimate dance.

“Coffee on the left is yours. I’m doing pancetta in the omelettes; most of my friends are vegetarian so I never get a chance to bust it out.”

“That sounds delicious.” He picks up the mug, sighs as warms his chest, “mmm, you have real cream somewhere in this house.”

“Yep. Remember you said you liked the real stuff when you could get it. I drink mine black, but really these beans demand cream instead of milk; sets of the chocolate notes really nice.”

“I can never taste those. Same thing with wine. But I guess that’s why you’re the professional and I’m not.”

“That’s more a happy coincidence. I got into this to help with the bills when I was in high school. I wasn’t, like, combining flavors and deciding to be a cook like in Ratatouille or something.”

“That’s a Pixar movie, right?”

“Only the best one ever made. Have you really not seen it?

“I, um, I only watch kids movies if I’m babysitting my niece. Which doesn’t happen as often as I’d like.”

“Well, now I know what we’re doing after breakfast. Ah ah, Sass, not for you.” He shoos the dog from where it’s valiantly trying to double in length to reach the table.

“Is his name short for something?”

“Sasquatch.”

“Awwww.” Joseph crouches down to scritch behind one, floppy ear.

“His whole litter was named for cryptids; Nessie, Champ, Yeti, stuff like that.”

“‘Bray’ feels like an obvious one.” He smiles, then remembers not everyone is a nerdy UP agent, “sorry, never mind.”

“Uh uh special agent, I’ve been waiting to ask you about this. You don’t get to say you’re ‘like Fox Mulder’ and then not share more.” Barclay pulls out his chair, kisses his head when he sits down. He then listens to Joseph expound on canine cryptids of the midwest for fifteen minutes, fascinated the entire time.

“Y’know, I had a line cook who swore he’d been abducted by aliens.”

“What was his proof?”

By the time their plates are clean, Joseph has generated three alternative explanations and Barclay is staring at him with an expression straight from a rom-com. The cook sets up the movie while Joseph does the dishes, then pulls him under a mound of blankets.

“The heat in this place is shit, but I promise I’ll keep you warm.”

He enjoys the movie plenty, the weight of Barclay’s arm over his shoulder and, eventually, his waist, even more. They watch Ramen Girl for the hell of it, spooning on the couch while the snow makes dunes out of the sidewalk.

When the second movie is done, Joseph rolls so he’s facing the cook, “What should we do now?”

“Could keep watching movies, or bake something. I’ve got some cards and a few games in the closet. Or we could just cuddle and talk. I’m good with whatever.”

“...Could I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You’ve been so sweet all day. Why were you such an ass about our first date?”

Barclay shifts, discomfort entering his eyes, “I was having a shitty week and was hoping the date would make me feel better. I ended up so anxious after it, felt like you wanted to be somewhere else, that I kinda took my frustration out by being a dick. I’m sorry. I, um, I wasn’t even on that many dates between now and then; I’d just text you what I’d wished had happened to fuck with you.”

“I should’ve known it; no one has that many good dates in a row.”

“Sorry.”

Joseph cups his cheek, “And I’m sorry for making you feel that way the first time. I had my reasons but, well, you still had a bad time because I was flustered and couldn’t get my mind off work.”

“Think you’ve more than made up for it.”

“Can I try again anyway?” Joseph kisses him, slipping his fingers under the waistband of his sweats.

Barclay’s lips curve up, “Bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”

Once Barclay is comfortably naked atop the blankets (space heater pointed at the bed all the while), Joseph asks if he has any condoms.

“Yeah, bathroom cabinet. But I’m not, uh, I don’t-”

“It’s not for penetration. You said last night that was a no for you.” In the reflection of the bathroom mirror, he watches him relax. If he ever finds out someone saw the tension in those muscles, heard the worry in that sweet, deep voice and pushed anyway, he’s going to set them on fire with his mind.

Barclay nestles his cheek on his pillow as Joseph fishes his swiss army knife from his jacket, puts his ass in the air and wiggles it expectantly as Joseph unrolls the cut latex.

“Is this okay?”

“Uh huh, I really love it when guys do this but, uh, it doesn’t happen much. The hair turns a lot of them off.”

“Cowards.” Joseph holds the makeshift dam in place. Barclay’s chuckle morphs into a moan as he presses his face between his asscheeks, tongue making an obscene sound against the latex. There’s a warmth to this angle that he loves, a tender sort of filthiness to the way Barclay pushes his ass back with little gasps of his name.

He doesn’t get to practice his technique often, but that makes it all the more pleasurable to re-acquaint himself with it now, find the ways of pressing and curving his tongue that make Barclay’s ass tense under his hands.

“Fuck, fuck, Joseph, I take it all back, every rude text, you’re gonna drive every date you get crazy, gonna make them wonder how they got so lucky to get someone so goddamn wild.”

“I don’t think I will. I think” Joseph kisses the small of his back, “I think it’s you. You bring it out in me, you make me want to do all the things I’d be ashamed to ask for the rest of the time.”

Barclay whimpers happily.

“I’m serious. There’s something about you, I feel like I can want what I want without shame.” He nips his right cheek once, gently, “or maybe it’s just that what I really want is you and everything else finds into line because of it.”

“Fuuuck, baby, please.” Barclays weight shifts as Joseph eats him out ever more messily, “wanna, wanna make you feel good.” He’s rubbing his dick, Joseph can tell by the sound.

“May I?”

“Uhhuh, fuck, c’mere” Barclay grabs him as soon as they’re both sitting up, “was gonna pound you into next week but I dont wanna waste time with the harness right now.”

“Then we can do that tomorrowAH, ohlord” his hand stutters on it’s way to Barclay’s cock as calloused fingers circle is dick, “god there is not a part of you that disappoints, you’re just a wet dream from top to bottom.”

“Aw, babe.” Barclay kisses his shoulder, groaning as Joseph thumbs his dick, “fuck, speaking of, you gonna tell me what you meant in the stall last night? About things being ‘the other way around.”

Now it’s his turn to hide his face, “Promise you won’t think I’m dirty?”

“Babe, your mouth was on my ass a minute ago. You’re dirty and I fucking love it.”

“I, um, I, when I travel for missions I look for, for places that have glory holes.”

“Oh fuck” Barclay ruts against his palm, “that’s a fucking amazing image blue eyes. You on your knees, trying to keep that fucking suit clean while a fucking parade of guys shove their dicks down your throat.”

“I, it’s an easy way for me to get off, I can edge myself until I’m done and then cum without anyone being the wise but, god, half the time I’d think about this, want this.” He speeds up his strokes, pumps his cock into Barclay’s fist.

“What, a hairy trans guy?” Barclay bumps their noses together.

“This” his free hand glides along Barclays arm where it’s holding him, “s-someone to see me, hold onto me, fuck the whole of me and not just the acceptable, easy part. But” he meets brown eyes, teases slick skin, “I, the other times I fucked someone like this it, it was like I was still in that fucking stall. Last night, today, I’m here, I want to be and I am.”

“Baby.” The word comes in a sweet rumble of understanding just as Joseph cums with a gasp. He holds on for dear life as Barclay joins their hands and guides his fingers along his dick, forces his mind to memorize the movements and shapes for next time.

Barclay cums with a groan, flinging his hands up to cup Joseph's head and kiss him. There’s cum on his arm, on Joseph’s fingers and now in his hair and he cannot bring himself to give a shit. Gradually the kisses trail to his cheeks, his neck, his collarbone, and then Barclay is nestling his head under his chin.

“I, um, I think it might have been a good thing. That first date. I can be overly focused on work, can forget to turn off the special agent questioning mode and just talk like a person. I’m glad you saw those parts of me and, um, and decided to give me another chance.”

“Hey, you saw that I could be kinda sensitive and stubborn when I think someone did something wrong and you still saved my ass from being humiliated on the internet.” Barclay sighs as Joseph pets his hair.

“Do you, um, want to keep getting to know each other? Good parts and bad?”

Barclay looks up at him. Sees him.

“Yeah, blue eyes, I do.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #meet ugly #taz amnesty #trans barclay

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pterodactylterrace · 4 years ago

Text

Guys Like You Chapter 10

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: Chapter 10

Chapter Summary: Story time.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy and loss.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} "Where do you want me?" Henry asked, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside as he took in the small woman standing before him.

"We have two options. Either you kneel, or I need a ladder." Faye giggled, turning off the buzzing device and setting it on the edge of the sink. Henry knelt down obediently, raising a flirtatious brow at her as he made himself comfortable on his knees before her. Faye rolled her eyes at the man, picking up a comb and pulling it through his hair detangling the curls, unable to stop from giggling at his happy groans.

"Any last words to the curls?" Faye asked, threateningly turning the clippers back on.

"They'll grow back." Henry sighed, closing his eyes as she began to slowly run the buzzing device over his head, his curls falling away as she went.

"They'll grow back." Faye repeated, brushing the shorn hair from his shoulders. She made sure to leave his newly buzzed hair even, rubbing her hand over his now fuzzy scalp once she was finished.

"Well?" Henry sighed, peering up at her expectantly, his cut hair still sticking to his chest and shoulders, looking like a scolded puppy for all intents and purposes.

"Still as handsome as ever." Faye assured, resting her hand on his cheek. "Now go ahead and wash all that hair off before you get itchy. Briar is probably climbing on something by now.

"Let me sweep this up first." Henry countered, dusting more hair off of himself as he stood, casting the curls on the ground one last sorrowful glance before following Faye back out into the house to grab the broom.

Faye found her daughter cuddled up with Kal in his bed, happily babbling away to the dog, a few promises to behave herself being peppered in with her monologue. She smiled and waved happily when she spotted her mother, hugging the dog possessively.

"He miss me." She declared, squealing happily when the dog licked her face.

"It sure looks like he did. Sweetheart, is it ok if we pass on the dinosaur nuggets tonight? Henry has to follow a special diet for work and can't eat them all the time like you can." Faye explained, kneeling down to run her fingers through the dog's fur.

"Brockey."

"If he has any, I will be sure to make it for you." Faye agreed, kissing her daughter's forehead and heading to the kitchen. It felt strange to be cooking in someone else's kitchen, but she knew if Briar didn't eat soon, a hunger fueled tantrum was imminent. Judging from the looks of his refrigerator he was currently living off a strict diet of chicken and vegetables, several bottles of rosemary water also lining the shelves. That made planning dinner easier. All he had was chicken and Briar wanted her favorite broccoli. That just left the question of where he kept all his pots, pans and utensils.

"You didn't have to start dinner by yourself." Henry's amused voice almost made Faye jump out of her skin, which was quite the problem considering she had resorted to climbing onto the counter to reach the cutting board. He plucked her from her perch, setting her back on her feet and kissing her forehead. "I see where Briar gets her love of climbing." He teased, easily grabbing the cutting board for her.

"Well I'm sorry, not all of us are giants." Faye pouted, smiling softly to herself as she ran a hand over his fuzzy scalp.

"Mommy, I gotta go potty!" Briar announced, rushing into the room, freezing when she saw the unfamiliar looking man so close to her mother.

"Come on, then, let's go potty." Faye broke away, taking her daughter's hand and leading her away.

"Who that?" Briar asked, looking up at her mother with wide eyes as she toddled along beside her.

"That's Henry, sweetie."

"No it not." She disagreed, her tiny face pulling into a frown.

"Yes it is, he just cut his hair." Faye assured, turning the light on for her daughter, waiting by the door for her.

"Not Henry." Briar repeated firmly as she did her business. The scowl never left her tiny face, not even when her mother led her back to the kitchen where Henry had taken over preparing dinner.

"See? Henry." Faye repeated, nodding to the man in question.

"Not. Henry!" Briar repeated firmly, stomping her little foot.

"I'm Henry, princess." Henry chuckled, slowly approaching and crouching down to let the child see his face.

"Henry?" Briar whimpered, reaching an unsure hand out to touch his freshly shorn hair.

"Henry." He nodded, lowering his head more to let her examine his head more closely.

"I told you, it's Henry." Faye chuckled, patting her daughter on the back, rolling her eyes when she wrapped her arms around Henry's neck, silently demanding he pick her up.

"My Henry. I be good." Briar stated firmly, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

"Don't worry, Princess. I'm not going anywhere until your mother tells me to." Henry assured as he picked her up and carried her back to the counter, dragging a chair along with him and setting her down on it so she could watch what he was doing.

Crisis averted, the rest of the evening went fairly smoothly, Briar insisting on keeping Henry in her sights at all times. The two minutes he'd taken to go to the bathroom had almost been a disaster. Though the look on his face when he opened the door to find both Kal and Briar waiting on him was priceless.

It came as no surprise to Faye when Briar insisted Henry read her a bedtime story. The little girl had become to clingy since Henry had come back into their lives. He was nice enough to download a few children's books onto his iPad, perching himself on the side of the bed as Briar thoughtfully swiped through her options.

"This." Briar decided, pointing firmly at Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

"Ah, yes. A classic." Henry praised, letting the toddler press into his side to watch the screen as he read. Faye only wished she had her phone with her to sneak a picture of the sweet scene unfolding in front of her. He was going to make a wonderful husband and father some day. He was amazing with her daughter, taking all of her demands in stride. He never lost his temper with her, even when she was being unreasonable. The few times she'd been on the verge of a tantrum around him, all he had to do was raise an eyebrow to instantly defuse the situation. The last three weeks without him around had been hard, Briar having grown so used to having him around.

"Henry." Briar's voice interrupted Faye's train of thoughts.

"Yes?" Henry paused his reading, looking down at the little girl.

"Henry." Briar repeated, pointing at the screen. "Henry Papa Bear."

"What?" Henry asked, giving the girl a confused look.

"Henry Papa Bear." Briar repeated. "Fuzzy bear. Papa Bear." Faye was sure all the color drained from her face at the child's declaration.

"Oh, I'm fuzzy like a bear, hu?" Henry chuckled, ruffling her hair.

"Fuzzy!" Briar insisted, pulling the collar of his shirt down more and pointing firmly at his chest hair. "Fuzzy Bear. Papa Bear!"

"Well why am I Papa Bear? Why can't I be Baby Bear?" Henry gasped in mock offense.

"No, silly! I Baby Bear!" Briar explained.

"Ok, I'll be the Papa Bear, then. So, we just discovered that Goldilocks tried my porridge, your mother's porridge, and then ate yours ALL UP!" Henry continued on as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

"That will teach her to come in our house and mess with our stuff." Henry finished reading, squeezing the little girl to his side before getting up and ushering her under the blankets.

"Princess Kal." Briar requested, pulling the blanket up to her nose.

"You know, Kal is a boy dog." Henry pointed out, fighting a laugh.

"Sleep here." Briar continued, oblivious to Henry's correction.

"Will you sleep better with him in here?" Henry asked, whistling for the dog at Briar's enthusiastic nod. The fluffy canine wasted no time in jumping straight onto the bed, forcing his wiggling body close to Briar's and laying his head on her pillow, lazily licking at the side of her head.

"Looks like I've been replaced." Henry sighed in mock despair, switching on the night light and gently shooing Faye into the hall to close the door.

"By which one?"

"Both. It would seem I am obsolete."

"Aww, poor baby."

"That's poor Papa Bear thank you." Henry scoffed.

"I am so sorry about that." Faye quickly apologized, her hands unconsciously coming up to cover her lower face in horror.

"She's a child, it's no bother." Henry assured, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her back to the living room.

"She's never said anything like that before, I swear."

"I know you don't enjoy the subject, but can I trouble you to tell me about her father?" Henry requested suddenly, sitting on the couch and pulling Faye into his lap, wrapping her securely in his arms.

"He's not in the picture." Faye summarized, resting her head against his shoulder to hide her face.

"I know there's more to the story than that." Henry gently pressed.

"He... he left as soon as he found out I was pregnant. I showed him the ultrasound pictures and... it wasn't the reaction I'd been hoping for. He accused me of lying. When that didn't work, he started saying I was a whore, and he had no way of knowing if they were his, that anyone could be their father."

"You mean her. Briar." Henry interjected.

"No... they." Faye admitted after a long pause, reluctantly pulling her sleeve up to show him the ink on her forearm more closely. A pair of wings and a date, marking the worst day of her life. "Briar had a twin that I lost at around ten weeks."

"I'm so sorry." Henry apologized, his stomach dropping as he squeezed her tight, regretting bringing up the subject.

"Not like he cared. He was long gone by then.

"That didn't make it any easier on you."

"No, but there was nothing I could do." Faye sniffled, quickly wiping at her eyes and nose with the back of her sleeve. "He was never involved with anything. He's not on her birth certificate."

"I'm sorry for bringing it up." Henry apologized after a long pause, unable to think of what else to say.

"It's fine. Most people just assume she was from a one night stand or something." Faye shrugged. "Doesn't matter that I was with that asshole for years before I got pregnant, or that he made the decision that if I stopped taking birth control, that meant he didn't have to use a condom either. What kind of sense does that even make? Of course, the asshole didn't even tell me about it until after the fact. Naturally, it was my fault for expecting him to continue using contraceptive if I didn't."

"That makes no sense. He didn't want a child, but he did nothing to prevent from having one?"

"I know. It was just another way of him trying to control me."

"You've done an amazing job raising Briar on your own. She's a happy little spitfire, just like her mum."

"Mom."

"You're in England now, Miss Warren. Here, we say mum."

"Well Briar and I are both from the states. We say mom."

"I really am sorry about the last few weeks." Henry abruptly changed the subject. "I was very busy and I didn't want any distractions. I was miserable. I realize now I really could have used a few distractions to keep me sane instead of throwing myself into my work."

"That's what you do. You're an all or nothing type of guy. Half way is not in your vocabulary."

"What I'm trying to say is, I want to make it easier for you two to be around more."

"How so? You're not about to ask us to move in with you or something, because I really don't think that's a great -"

"No, no." Henry cut her off with a chuckle. "I know you wouldn't say yes even if I did offer. You're far too independent to move in with a man you've only known a few months. What I meant was: would it bother you if I bought some things to make the two of you more comfortable here? That way you could come over whenever you wanted without having to plan it out."

"Such as?"

"Toothbrushes come to mind. You mentioned Briar still needs diapers at night. I could add more things to the spare room to make Briar more comfortable in there. Some stuffed animals maybe? Possibly new bedding with characters on them."

"Henry, if you are asking my permission to go crazy and redecorate your spare room to suit a three year old girl, go for it. I won't judge."

"I'm holding you to that. That girl's already got me wrapped around her little finger." Henry sighed defeatedly.

"You'll get used to it. Soon you won't even notice that your entire day is being plotted out by someone that can't tie her own shoes."

"You don't know how to tie your shoes?" Henry gasped playfully.

"Learning to tie shoes is overrated. Zippers and velcro are the way to go."

@Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill rpf #guys like you #guys like you fic

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thevampiresiren · 4 years ago

Text

Helping Yoongi Shave

Word Count: 2.5K

Genre: Fluff, Humor

WARNINGS: Soft!Yoongi, Tooth Aching Fluff, Cursing, Slight Suggestive Themes (nothing major, just some suggestive flirting and a little talk of sex. Yoongi also puts his hands on the reader's butt)

Summary: Yoongi needs to shave, but he's too tired to do it himself. So he teaches you how to shave him.

A/n: So… This is the very first Fanfic that I wrote and I’m not going to lie; I was a very nervous about posting it until one of my friends read it for me and loved it. I’m not sure if I’ll be doing this stuff as a part of my blog ALL the time, but if I can think of anything and if it comes out good; I’ll definitely post it. Also I just REALLY wanted to do a Yoongi shaving fanfic because I think helping your significant other shave is SO intimate and involves a lot of trust. I hope you guys like it!

I was passed out on the couch in the living room when I woke up to the sound of keys jingling outside the apartment door. As Holly got up from laying next to my feet, I picked up my phone and saw that it was around 1:30 am. As the door opened, I heard the brown toy poodle bark happily while he was spanning around in a circle while footsteps stopped to where he was. "Shhh, Holly. You're gonna wake Mom up." My boyfriend whispered petting the fluffy canine.

"Too late, she's awake." I yawned while stretching with a smile on my face. Yoongi looked up from petting Holly.

"I'm sorry, Jagiya. I thought you were in bed." Yoongi said while taking his shoes off, setting his work bag down, and walking over to me. I smiled as he tilted my chin up to gently peck my lips. When he pulled away, he laughed loudly. "What?" I asked.

"Nice bed head, babe". He said smirking while nodding at me. I ran my my finger through hair and sighed. "Hey, don't be upset. It's cute." He said standing up and kissing my check. I felt a slight roughness on my skin once he made contact. I look at his upper lip and chin, smirking.

"Nice stubble, babe." I copied. He touched his face and groaned. "Don't be upset. Its cute." I mocked. Yoongi smiled.

"I'm gonna go get changed. I'm too tired to shave tonight." He said yawning while walking to our bedroom. Holly and I followed not far behind and he laid down in his little bed starting to doze off again knowing his dad was home. I walked in and saw that Yoongi had put his glasses on and changed into his black sweatpants that hung loosly on his hips and was topless. He was by no means the buffest man in world, nor did he have majorly defined abs; but he was toned enough that you could see his pecs, and when the light hit right at the correct angel; his faint abs from him most recently working out would show up. He was perfect. His arm muscles slightly moved as he threw his clothes into hamper. I was too busy admiring him before he broke me from trance. "You okay over there? If I didn't know any better I'd get the feeling you're checking me out." He said with a cocky smirk. I smiled and pushed myself off the door frame I was leaning on.

"Nah, I think your hideous and by no means attractive. And you do it to me all the time." I said jokingly.

"Your loud noises from me pinning you down two nights ago and those dark marks say otherwise, baby girl". He said smirking. I blushed while trying to cover the "love marks" on my neck and where my shoulders met.

"Shut up and let me enjoy my hot boyfriend's body when we aren't fucking." I said laughing. Yoongi let out chuckle before he went off to the master bathroom to brush his teeth. I changed out of my day clothes into nothing but his white Fear of God shirt that hit my mid thighs and put my hair in a high ponytail.

"Aish! Its so fucking bad" Yoongi groaned loudly. I looked in and saw him examining his facial hair, clearly upset with how fast it was growing. "Yoon, just shave it tomorrow before you go to work. You need sleep." I said walking over to him. I knew he was beyong exhausted by how irritated he sounded and by the slight bags under his eyes. It was comeback season and I knew he was over working himself a bit. He was eating healthy and was taking care of himself like he has been, but I still worried about him. "I can't, we have an interview in the morning and we have dance practice. Plus, I need to finish up a song in the home studio once I wake up." He said leaning his head against the mirror pouting; his raven bangs falling and covering his eyes. I wrapped my arms around his bare torso and leaned my cheek on his broad shoulder making him shiver at the contact. "What if I do it for you?" I said quietly.

"My work?"

"No, dumbass." I said pulling away laughing while he turned around. "I mean shave your face." I said poking his chubby cheeks and kissing his pout.

"You sure you're not to tired to do that for me?"

"I wouldn't be offering if I was."

"Yes you would, because I'd do it too for you."

"I've already gotten at least 4 hours of sleep. You've been up since 6 am. I have more energy and I don't want you stressing out over it. Let me do it, baby. Let me take care of you." I said seriously.

"God, I can't wait to make you my wife." He said sighing. I laughed loudly "Who said I would say yes if your proposed?".

"We've talked about it and you were weak at the knees when I told you I would give you as many kids as you want and I would find a way to make it work for you, the kids, and music. Plus, you let me take your v-card. You've already said yes based on that like I did." Yoongi said laughing.

I blushed. "Just go get your damn razor and everything else." I said crossing my arms over my chest. Yoongi turned around and opened the medicine cabinet to pull out his shaving cream, aftershave, and the black leather case that he kept his razor in. He set everything in front of the sink and scooted out of the way for me to work. I opened up the case and saw exactly what type of razor it was. Anxiety shivered through my body as I pulled the razor out carefully. I just came to the realization that I had never actually SEEN his razor. He usually was using it on tour or even over at the dorm with the rest of the guys. Whenever he did shave here, it was in the shower.

"Yoongs..."

"Yeah?"

"This is a straight razor...". I said quietly.

"I know. It gets closer to my skin and the shave lasts longer. It works better for me than a normal one.". I carefully opened the blade far away from either of us at the risk of us getting cut. I stared at it and my anxiety just continued to grow. These were dangerous and I'd never used one before.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Yoongi said looking at me concerned while reaching out and gently rubbing my shoulder.

"I'm scared I'm going to pull a Thomas Brown Hewitt and slit your throat while I shave you. I can't afford a lawsuit as big as you." I said casually as I carefully set the razor down after I slowly put the blade back. Yoongi busted out laughing loudly at my comment.

"You'll do fine, Kitten." He said calmly after he collected himself. "I'll show you how to use it on yourself first if that'll make you more comfortable.". I thought for a moment and nodded my head agreeing. Yoongi grabbed the shaving cream and turned the water on so it was hot but not scolding. "Fuck." Yoongi said looking down, his deep raspy voice just slightly about a whisper as he just noticed what I was wearing. I smirked at him with a face that said "really?" .

"Sorry, you just look really fucking cute." He said blushing. Yoongi showed me how to put the cream on my legs which was no different than I normally do. He then grabbed the razor, instructing me to put my hand where his was. He lightly wrapped his large hand around my wrist, and started.

"Okay, so the trick is to go with the grain of hair; never against it. It can cause bumps and ingrown hairs. Also keep your hand at a 30-degree angle. Anything more will cut yourself. Make sure the skin is always taught as well. And go slow and gentle. Like this.". Yoongi began helping me shave where my ankle was and guiding me with the right amount of pressure. After a few more strokes of him helping me, I had enough confidence to do it on my own. It wasn't as hard or scary as I thought. After 20 minutes, I had both of my legs shaved and set the blade down on the sink. I ran my hands down my legs and noticed how smoother my legs were. I had no cuts, bumps, or anything like I normally would. "I DID IT YOONGI! I DIDN'T KILL MYSELF!". I yelled extremely happy that I didn't have to go to the ER, wrapping my arms around Yoongi's neck . He laughed at how excited I was.

"I told you that you could do it. Are you ready to try it on me now?" He said picking the blade back up. I smiled and told him to sit down on the counter of the bathroom sink. Once he was sat down and his glasses were off, I put the water on and shaving cream on his face. Just when I had turned to grab the razor; I felt a large warm hand on my wrist. "Um.. wait a second."

While I went to look over at Yoongi; I felt a soft, light, pressure on my left cheek followed by a muffled sound. I looked between my face and part of my hair covered in white, to Yoongi's right hand also covered in white and the right side of his face showing his skin underneath. It took me a second to get over my shock before I began processing what had just happened. "MIN YOONGI." I yelled, waking Holly up, making him barm from the disturbance of his sleep before going back to bed. Yoongi busted out in a full-on laugh attack causing him to almost fall off the sink before catching himself. As I washed the shaving cream off of me, I looked annoyed but also amused at him being playful. "I want a divorce already." I said laughing with him. Once we both settled down and Yoongi had his face covered in shaving cream again; I grabbed the razor and was about to start shaving him when my anxiety started getting the better of my again. Yoongi sensed my anxiety sparking and grabbed my hand that wasn't holding the razor.

"Hey." Yoongi said while he looked up at me lovingly, running his long fingers over mine soothingly. "I trust you okay. I know you won't hurt me." He said before kissing my knuckles, careful not to get the shaving cream on my hand. I nodded smiling and slowly started shaving him. Several minutes in shaving him, while I was concentrating, I felt Yoongi's hands reach behind me to my upper thighs, pulling me closer. He gently started rubbing soothing circles on them and messaging my ass.

"Keep it PG, Min. I have weapon and I'm not afraid to use it." I said jokingly making him chuckle.

"You know what you in my clothes do to me." He said with a tired smirk. His dark lashes hit his cheekbones as he relaxed under my touch. I smiled at a how serene he looked, and it took everything in me not to kiss him. Once I was done, I rubbed my nose against his causing him to open one eye and smile. I grabbed the washcloth and gently cleaned whatever was left of his shaving gel. I grabbed his Invictus aftershave and put some on his face.

"Okay, I'm think done." I said proud of myself. Yoongi put his glasses back on and grabbed the handheld mirror I had held out to him and examined his face closely. A huge smile hit his lips and he wrapped his strong arms around my shoulders and pulled me to his broad chest. "You did amazing Jagi. Thank you." He said as he muzzled his face into my neck.

"You're welcome, Yoons." I said tiredly as I ran my fingers through his soft locks, laying my head on top of his. The faint smell of his aftershave along with the smell of him in general hitting my nose made me feel tired as I gently messaged his head. Yoongi hummed quietly into my neck before placing chaste lazy kissing to my neck, chest, below my ear lobe, cheeks, temple, nose, and finally my lips.

"I love soft, cuddly Yoongi." I said giggling. Yoongi looked at me with a soft smile, our noses touching.

"I thought you loved rough, dominate Yoongi?" He said rubbing our noses together.

"Ehh, I like all sides. I'm an easy woman to please." I said looking at him smiling before telling him it was time for us to go to bed. He yawned while nodding and we headed to our bed, setting his glasses down on the nightstand. He pulled me close, so my head was laying on his chest and placed his hand on the side of my face. Our centimeters away from each other he smiled and looked into my eyes with his full of love, care, warmth, and passion. "I love you so much, Jagi." He said tired while stroking my cheek bone. I leaned it connected my lips to his in a sweet but passionate kiss. We both pulled away with giant smiles on our faces. I responded looking tiredly into his eyes. "I love you too, Yoongi.". I layed my head on my pillow, my face buried in his neck breathing in his scent while he buried his in my hair, arms wrapped tightly around me. "I can't believe you smashed me in the face with shaving cream." I said quietly.

"That's what you get for staring at me and then parading around our bedroom in my shirt and your lace panties you brat.". He responded letting out and airy chuckle. I smiled before closing my eyes and falling asleep to his light breathing.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #bts yoongi #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfction

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pankows-girl · 5 years ago

Text

What Happens When Pogues Mack Ch.1 - JJ Maybank

Summary: Y/N finds out she’s pregnant.

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: Cursing, pregnancy, angst

Requested: Yes

A/N: i tried to make this as angsty as possible. i hope its somewhat decent because i kept rewriting certain areas. also as usual i was kinda too lazy to go through and edit so there might be a few mistakes. more jj fics to come soon! Part 2 maybe?

[Ch.1] [Ch.2] [Ch.3]

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!” You heard right before getting smacked in the face with a pillow. Kie laughed above you, bouncing on the bed next to you.

You groaned in annoyance, grabbing the pillow and throwing it at her. She dodged it and plopped down next to you. “I am never sleeping over at your house again,” You scowled at her jokingly. Kid smiled in response, poking you in the side.

Suddenly your stomach churned and your scowled contorted into a grimace. Kie watched concerned as you jumped off the bed, cradling your stomach and covering your mouth as you ran to the bathroom and lifted the toilet seat before emptying the contents of your stomach in it. Your eyes water and you use one of you hands to hold back your hair and the other to support yourself.

This was the third morning in a row that you woke up sick and you thought it was just the flu or something but now you weren’t so sure. You tried to remember the last time you had gotten your period and came up empty. You were definitely late for it and a million thoughts crossed your mind before you called out for Kie.

“Are you ok, Y/N?” She questioned.

“Shit,” you breathed out beginning to panic. “Kie! Get it here now! Please!”

Kie ran into the bathroom as fast as she could, accidentally kicking the door frame with her foot. “Fuck, shit!” She cried out. “What’s wrong?”

“Kie, I think I might be pregnant,” You said, voice quivering slightly.

She froze in place, whipping her head around to stare at you. Her eyes looked like they were ready to pop out of her head in shock. You looked away from her scrutinizing gaze, feeling ashamed of yourself.

“Ok, don’t freak out. We’ll go get a test so we can be positive. Well hopefully not positive ‘cause you know…” Kie trailed off. You would have laughed at her awkwardness had you not been freaking out.

The two of you rushed to the shop and back to Kiara’s house as fast as possible. You went to the bathroom, holding the bag with the pregnancy test in hand and closed the door behind you for some privacy. You took the box out and opened it.

You stared at the test for a minute before you worked up the courage to get down to business. You pulled down your pants and sat in the toilet ready to pee on the stick and get this whole thing over with. After you finish you wash your hands and set a timer in your phone until the results are ready. You let Kie into the bathroom to wait with you.

The timer went off and your eyes were filled with unshed tears at this point, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You almost couldn’t bring yourself to look, too scared of what the result would be. You stared down at the pregnancy test in your hand. It showed two thin lines that took your breath away and not in a good way. You felt like you were gonna be sick again. Shakily, you passed it to Kie to examine.

Kie took the test in her hands, eyes widening as she looked at the results. “Y/N… It’s positive,” She said, giving you a look of sympathy.

You shook your head, tears in your eyes. You. How could you take care of a baby when you could barely take care of yourself? You started to cry, feeling overwhelmed by the situation. Kie set the test on the counter and pulled you into her arms as tears streamed down your face.

“How are you gonna tell JJ?” Kie asked carefully, knowing the two of you had been ‘sneaking around.’ It wasn’t really a secret between the Pogues that you and JJ were together. They didn’t seem to mind either, despite it breaking the rule of no pogues macking on other pogues, because they knew how much you liked each other and were good for one another.

You sobered up, freezing in Kiara’s embrace. You had no idea how you were going to tell him or how he would react to you being pregnant with his child. You were just kids and could barely even take care of yourselves let alone a baby. JJ already had enough on his plate having to pay off his restitution and avoid his dad's wrath, you were worried how he would take the news.

“I don’t know, Kie,” You sighed. “What if I tell him and he freaks out?”

Kie bites her lip. JJ has never been known to act rationally when it came to such serious things but she also knew how he felt about you. He loved you, anyone could see that. And she just hoped that JJ’s reaction proved it.

Later that day Kiara dropped you off at home and you texted JJ to meet you there. You flopped down on your bed waiting for him to arrive. You and Kiara both agreed that you should tell JJ the news straight up no matter what. There was no point in beating around the bush, especially since soon you wouldn’t be able to hide it after your baby bump started to show.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard tapping on your window. You roll out of bed when you see it's just JJ. You told him to go through the front door since no one else was home but like usual he didn’t listen. His hand brushes against yours as he climbs inside your room and your heart starts to beat so loudly in your chest you’re sure JJ can hear it too.

“Why didn’t you use the door?”

“Sneaking in through your window makes me feel like a badass,” JJ said laughing. He sat down on your bed, patting the seat next to him. “So, you said you had something important to tell me or did you just miss me?”

You ignored his invitation to sit down, biting your lip as you practiced what you were about to say in your head.

“Y/N?” JJ said when you didn’t respond.

“JJ, I’m pregnant.”

You stared at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. He didn’t say anything and you wondered if he had disappeared into thin air. You wished a hold would open up underneath you and swallow you whole or maybe even for another store to come and wash everything away because anything would be better than JJ’s silence.

“Are you sure?” He asks hesitantly and you nod, still not having the courage to look at him. “Fuck. What are we gonna do? We’re just a couple of Pogues who don’t know shit about taking care of a kid.” JJ hopped off the bed and began pacing.

“JJ, hey,” You said, trying to get him to look at you. “It’s fine. We'll be fine.”

“I’m not ready to be a dad, I can’t.” He declared, finally looking at you for the first time since you told him you were pregnant.

“You think that I’m ready to be a mom? Hell no, but it doesn’t mean I can’t do this,” You said hoping to get through to him. “I’m keeping the Baby, JJ.”

“No, no. I can’t do this with you right now. I’m sorry but I have to go.”

You watched JJ as he dashed out of your room. “You’re just gonna walk away like that?” You yelled at his back. “Well fuck you then! I don’t need you!”

He did walk away just like that, slamming your front door behind him. You scoffed, now he wanted to use the fucking door. You heard the door open a moment later and you ran out of your room hoping JJ changed his mind and came back. Instead you saw your mom and younger sister, faces filled with confusion. You didn’t even notice you were crying until your mother had her arms around you, wiping your fallen tears away.

You hugged her back tightly. Your heart was broken into a million pieces, your worst fear had come true when JJ walked out on you. Ever since your dad left you mom for some rich kook woman you had been afraid of the same thing happening to you. JJ knew that too and he still left. Maybe that’s what hurt the most.

“Mom, I’m so sorry,” You cried out. “I didn’t mean to, I swear and h-he, JJ, got upset and he left. Oh my god, he just left.” You cried some more as your mom comforted you. You felt like your throat was closing as you choked on your tears.

“Go get your sister some water,” Your mom told you little sister. “It’s ok, baby. I got you.”

Your sister returned with the water and you drank it all within a matter of seconds as your mother guided you back to your room. She crawled on the bed with you, placing the blanket over you and stroked your hair.

“Mommy, I’m pregnant,” You whispered. You expected her to get mad like JJ did but she didn’t. Instead she wrapped your arms around you and whispered reassurances to you. She said that JJ would come around and it might take some time but to trust him. You really hoped that she was right because you didn’t know what you would do without him.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, grateful for your mom who never left your side until the morning. She gave you some tips on how to help with morning sickness and went to make breakfast for the family. You didn’t feel like getting out of bed or even eating but you forced yourself to get ready for the day. You opened your window, hoping a little fresh air would help get you out of your slump.

You took a quick shower, most of which you spent feeling your tummy, unable to imagine a tiny baby growing inside of you. The hot water felt good on your skin and you wished you never had to get out but of course you did. You threw on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt of JJ’s that he had left over one night. It still smelled like him and it made you want to cry.

When you walked back in your room you saw JJ trying to sneak into your room through the window and it scared the shit out of you. “What the fuck, JJ?”

“Y/N, please hear me out,” JJ pleaded, staring at you. His eyes were filled with determination and you knew he wouldn’t give up without a fight. You crossed your arms in response. “I’m so sorry for how I reacted. I was being fucking stupid and I was scared. You’ve seen how my dad is and I guess I was just afraid I’d end up just like him. I never want my kid to grow up with a deadbeat dad like I did. I wanna be here for you. For our baby.”

Your lip quivered at his confession, feeling heartbroken at the truth about how he felt. From the moment you met JJ you knew he was special and for him to think he could ever be like his father was a punch to the gut. He was the sweetest, kindest person you ever had the pleasure of knowing and you knew with your whole heart that JJ would ever end up like that monster.

“Don’t ever think that of yourself again. You’re going to be a great father,” You sniffled, clutching the material of his shirt in your hand before pulling him into your arms. You clung to him like a baby, your tears wetting his lips as you pulled him into a kiss. JJ had a few tears of his own streaming down his cheeks and you wiped them away, holding JJ’s chin in your hand and turned his face to look at you. “I love you, JJ. I’m so happy you came back.”

“I’m never leaving you again, pretty girl.” JJ murmured. “It was the biggest mistake of my life.”

Your bedroom door creaked open and your mom stuck her head in. “Breakfast is ready if you-,” She started but stopped when she saw JJ. She smiled at you both before giving JJ a look that said ‘you better not hurt my daughter again,’ and closing the door on her way out. She was happy to see the two of you making up. JJ was a good kid and she knew you loved each other very much so for now she would let you be and save the safe sex lecture for later even though now it was far too late for that.

“Does your mom know?” JJ asked nervously.

“Why? Thinking about backing out again?” You teased.

JJ shook his head. “No, not by choice at least. Just want to make sure your mom doesn’t murder. Did you see the death stare she gave me?”

“You’ll be fine,” You laughed, patting his chest.

“I can’t believe we’re gonna have a baby! Our own baby Pogue!” JJ chortled, spinning you around the room. He pulled you into a kiss and you both laughed in excitement.

The next few days that followed consisted of you and JJ telling the rest of the Pogues besides Kiara, who already knew, that you were pregnant. They took it surprisingly well and you figured Kiara might have let something slip so that they had some time to process you and JJ together before freaking out when you told them.

JJ also would not stop saying “damn my baby momma is fine!” any chance he got. He felt immense pride knowing you were carrying his child and he would let the whole world know if he could. He loved you with his whole being and he would continue to for the rest of his life. Not only you, but your child as well. JJ realized that he finally had the chance at the family he always wanted and he knew would do anything he had to make it work. He thought back to when you and him started sneaking around. He was the one who initiated the relationship, breaking the no pogues macking on other pogues rule, not caring about the consequences. He surely didn’t think it was you pregnant but now that he knew what happens when pogues mack, he still didn’t regret a single thing. He was finally happy.

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cutieodonoghue · 4 years ago

Photo

dark gray (1/?)

summary: Killian Jones operates a lighthouse in the middle of nowhere, preferring a life of isolation, until one day a woman and a baby wash up on his little island and change his life forever.

read it on: ao3, ff.net

a/n: Hi! I know what you’re thinking… I’ve seen this story before, haven’t I? Yes. Yes you have. (Though, if you’re new to this story, hello and welcome, please enjoy!)

I deleted it a while ago thinking it wasn’t fair to leave it up unfinished if I had no plans to continue writing. But, literally out of the blue the other day, inspiration hit me and I was able to actually finish it! Can you believe it? I can’t.

So, rather than keeping it for myself and my own enjoyment, I thought I’d share with anyone who still wanted to see how this tale ends. I know it had a bit of a following and I still get questions about it to this day.

As an added benefit of this reposting, I’ve made some grammatical changes (because sometimes you re-read and you go, wow yikes I messed that up lol) and added some extra bits here and there to add some color and zing. May as well, right?

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! And I swear it’s going to be finished this time. I have an actual ending written and ready to publish!

If you just want to read the new parts, tune back in for chapters 14 and onward :)

Love you friends! <3

///

One

He slams the front door closed and it squeaks on its hinges, swinging and clattering against its cracked and broken frame.

He shoves his fist into his jacket pocket, straightening his gaze ahead of him with a white huff of his breath in the frigid air to mingle with the fog that has descended onto the island.

His boots crunch on the rocks as he carries himself onward and he takes note of all the things he has in store for his day. It isn't much, never is, and he curses his sailor's blood for the ungodly hours.

The ground is still damp from last night's storm and the air still smells of it. It had been an unruly thing, the storm, and he'd woken several times at the sound of lightning spiking nearby.

As he walks toward the lighthouse, he shifts his gaze to the ocean that's lapping up against the shore nearby. The water sprays at him and he grits his teeth, breathing in salty gusts of air through his nose.

He narrows his eyes, stopping dead in his tracks the instant he notices a lump lying at the shore, the foaming water washing over every few moments.

The blood drains from his face and his heart begins to pound just a little bit faster, a throbbing beginning to sound in his ears.

He stares for a moment longer, then shifts his gaze a little further up the shore to a brown basket nestled in seaweed and wet sand.

Curiouser and curiouser.

His brow furrows slightly and he pulls his hand free from his jacket so he can comb through his hair nervously.

He starts for the two washed up mysteries quickly, breaths coming out in nervous, shaking huffs, and when he reaches the blue lump, he kneels down beside it.

It's a woman.

She appears to be a few years his junior with sopping wet blonde hair and fair skin. When he examines her, she's breathing, but she's passed out cold. There’s blood oozing from a wound in her forehead and he's sure something's wrong with her leg, because it's twisted obscurely.

He winces a little, unsure of what to do. He's about to stand and lift her over his shoulder to help her when a high-pitched squeaking and crying emanates from a little further down the beach in the brown basket.

He can hardly hear the ocean now with how loudly his heart races in his ears.

He rises slowly, cursing under his breath as he makes his way toward it.

"Bloody hell," he mutters, looking down at the basket.

There is a baby, not a small baby, but a baby nonetheless, lying inside, wrapped tight in a blanket, squirming and crying. It's cheeks are red and it looks absolutely miserable.

He can't blame him. A day like today leaves much to be desired.

Killian Jones crouches down beside the child and holds out his arms, glaring briefly at his hook for a left hand, then, with a shake of his head, he reaches in and carefully lifts the child into the crook of his arm.

Having never held a screaming baby before in his entire life, he hasn't a clue of what to do. He bites down on his tongue and grimaces.

"Quiet down," he tries, "You'll get nowhere crying like that."

The child, miraculously, stops.

Killian sighs. "Let's get you inside then. Can't have you out to freeze, hm?"

He stands again, reaching down for the basket with his hand before turning to trudge back to his residence. Worry fills him from head to toe as he looks at the woman again.

Since she's out of it, she can wait until he's settled the child down. He thinks he knows better than to leave such a small human being out in the cold of the morning with no nourishment or comfort.

The baby squirms in his hold and he winces again in fear, because it isn't as if he has a firm hold on the fragile being. He finds his pace quickening almost instinctively.

Killian pulls the door open with his index finger and it slams behind him loud enough that it makes the child cry again. He starts hushing it as he sets the basket on the table in his kitchen, knocking over a bottle of beer from last night in the process.

He doesn't bother to clean up his mess, deciding to take the child into the small living room off of the kitchen where he builds a cradle of sorts out of blankets and pillows he can find.

He settles the fussing child down into the center of the mess and goes to stoke at the fire that's dying out in the fireplace. While it's warming up, he goes into the kitchen for milk.

He thinks that's what babies eat, right?

He isn't sure if it should be cold or warm and hesitates with the milk glass for a few moments, struggling to even find something to use that will fit in the child’s mouth. He decides on using a cleaned beer bottle for the time being and warms up the milk in the microwave before pouring it into the bottle and carrying it into the living room.

"Here we are," he says gruffly, setting himself down next to the lump in his couch. He awkwardly shifts the baby and uses his thumb to cut off the flow as he settles the lip against the child's mouth. "In we go. You're hungry, aye?"

It takes a few moments and some of the milk dribbles out on the baby's chin, but eventually, all of the milk goes straight into the hungry child's stomach, the baby's eyes falling closed as it continues to suckle.

Killian figures he'll have to find something to use as diaper cloths. He'll do that after bringing the woman inside.

It's a mystery to him how two people could wash up on his island.

It isn’t as if he’s in a highly trafficked area. It's not even in a shipping lane. In fact, ships rarely come along- only for his monthly supplies.

After the boy finishes the milk, Killian puts the beer bottle on the floor and looks down at the child with a furrowed brow.

He hasn't spent nearly enough time around children to know what to do with him now that he's eaten, and Killian sighs as he decides to strip him of the damp blanket and outfit he's sporting.

Killian tucks the boy into the pillows and blankets again, covering him up so he thinks he's warm, and then carries the wet and cold items over to the fire, hanging them to dry.

With one final check on the sleepy child, he nods to himself and zips up his coat to go grab the mystery woman.

He isn't a horrible man. He likes to think himself rather good on his better days. But he isn't a man who enjoys the company of others. In fact, one of the reasons he's still on this island is because he can't stand himself around others.

He can't trust himself around others.

Killian takes a sharp breath of the cold air and lets it back out of his nose, eyes set determinedly on the blue and yellow lump on the shore.

When he reaches her, he sighs, balling up his hand tightly into a fist before leaning down to scoop her up and onto his shoulder. He's careful with his hook and he grunts a bit when her weight is added to him. She's not very heavy, but he's not used to carrying much weight, so he is quick when he makes his way back to his home.

He moves with expertise through the small residence to his bedroom, the only bedroom, and settles her down on his bed.

She's absolutely soaked to the bone and incredibly cold to the touch. Her blonde hair fans around her head, some of the strands sticking to her peaceful cheeks and forehead.

She's still blissfully unaware of anything that's happened, so Killian hesitates for a moment longer before deciding to start the fire in his room.

As soon as the flames breathe warmth into the small room, he goes to the trunk at the foot of the bed and pulls out blankets to cover her with.

He decides that he should take her dress off to try to avoid hypothermia, so he takes a deep breath, leaves the blankets at her feet, and sets to peeling the wet article from her flesh.

Luckily for him, she's out enough that she doesn't wake as he's taking her britches off, and he purposefully covers her with blankets before he goes to find her something of his to wear in place of her dress while it dries.

Carefully, Killian puts a long sleeved shirt over her top and a pair of loose-fitting pants over her bottom, then slides a pair of socks over her feet and covers her with three blankets, ensuring her entire body is tucked safely and securely beneath them.

Her teeth have begun chattering, a new development that’s somewhat assuring.

In the process of slipping the pants on, he'd noticed bruising around her right knee and his thoughts easily drift to wondering what could've happened to her, but he can't know until she wakes, so he stores his curiosity and continues to ensure she's sufficiently warmed.

He figures he'll have to tend to her wounds later when she's awake and can tell him more and decides to go check on the child instead while she sleeps.

Killian leaves his bedroom after draping the woman's clothes over the fire to dry. His boots clump along the hardwood floor noisily and he sighs as he settles onto the couch beside the sleeping babe.

If there was anything he'd imagined his day as being like, it wasn't this.

He was supposed to check on the lightbulbs and make note of what needed fixing after the storm, get started on the list, and then drink himself to sleep after a supper of whatever he might scrounge up.

He isn't sure he can just leave the child and the woman here, not when they might wake up at any moment, so he watches the tiny being as he breathes before nodding in affirmation and carrying the tentative baby bottle into the kitchen.

Killian goes about fixing a stew from what he's got in the pantry and figures a way to feed the child with things in his cabinets.

He's sure the woman will be quick to mother him. Perhaps the child belongs to her- he isn't sure.

And anyway, he won't be stuck with them for very long. Just four weeks before the supply ship comes and he'll send them out and away from him again. He'll just have to deal with them in the meanwhile.

He settles back against the cabinets as the stew cooks on the stove, thinking about what he'll do about sleeping arrangements for the coming few weeks, when he hears the child erupt into a screaming cry.

He springs to work, grabbing the already heated milk from the stovetop and bringing the new bottle with him so he can comfort the infant if it's what it needs.

Killian sits beside the lump of blankets and pillows and lifts the child, whose fussing comes to hiccups as he settles him into his arms.

He frowns at the baby. "'s that all?"

He doesn't enjoy holding the child. It's awkward and uncomfortable and it reminds him all too much of a past he'd very much like to forget, so he sets the boy down again and is greeted by his wails once more.

He growls a little, shaking his head.

"You don't understand," Killian says sternly. "I can't hold you."

For a moment, they're sitting there in a stare-off of sorts, and Killian locks his jaw, shaking his head again before opening his mouth to reprimand the shrieking child when his bedroom door opens.

His gaze shifts immediately to the woman, who looks pale and sickly, leaning against the door jamb with all of her weight.

He stands, holding his arms out as she staggers a little.

She swallows and opens her mouth, looking down at the screaming bundle of flailing limbs on the couch.

Killian hastily lifts the boy into his hold to quiet him again and it works. It's overwhelming to hear his cries, to say the least, and when he moves to go to her, she follows him with her emerald eyes.

"Where am I?" she asks, voice wavering.

He shakes his head. "Don't worry yourself with that. You need to get back into bed."

Killian sets the child down with a wince of anticipation, receiving what he prepared for when the child bursts out in upset. He herds the woman back into the room and watches her cautiously as she limps back to the bed.

She groans and pain creases her forehead when she lies back down. "I heard... crying."

He nods and somehow tucks her back in under the blankets.

"Aye. Apologies. The child appears to have quite the set of lungs." She blinks a few times and he finds himself without words. "Is he… um, yours?"

The woman shakes her head, wincing a little. "No."

Killian runs his eyes down to the base of the bed and shakes his head again, a sigh slipping from his lips at the development. He looks back to her face.

"I'm Emma."

Killian hesitates, shifting a bit on his feet while he examines her sick face. He doesn't know what to do about her. She's clearly running a fever and it's not like he can force her to rest if she doesn't want to.

"Emma, why don't you get some sleep? You don't look well."

She scoffs, closing her eyes. "There was a storm and I fell from the top deck of the ship. I think I broke my leg."

She winces, then reaches down to pull the blankets away.

Bloody maddening woman.

She examines the leg with pain written in her features and he mentally groans, because he certainly is no doctor and she's stranded here with him for another few weeks.

"I could... try and set it," he tells her quietly. Her gaze flits over to him and he sees apprehension in those solid green eyes. "I set many bones in my time in the navy."

She studies him for a second before falling back with a loud sigh.

"Fine."

He eyes her warily, unmoving.

From the other room, the child is still screeching and sobbing and it's making his blood boil angrily, because he is no longer on his own. He no longer has the stability and security of being by himself. He has two people, two needy people, that he's responsible for.

In all of his time as caretaker of the lighthouse, it's been task after task and menial chores, followed by drinking and television- if the damn satellite worked.

It gets lonely, but he's better that way. He can't hurt anyone if he's by himself.

As his hand settles against her bare leg, he searches for the break. He gives her no warning, which in hindsight was a bloody awful idea, and she screams when he sets the bone with a loud crack.

Two screaming strangers in his tiny home on an island in the middle of nowhere. Bloody perfect.

#cs ff #cs au #captain swan #dark gray #my writing #also a note i don't tag people on here #it feels weird to do that to me #so please don't ask!#and then i ran away because i have posting nerves #it's been so long!

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