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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 3 months ago

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Sex On Wheels. | Dabi x Hawks 🌶🔥🦅

Pairing: Dabi x Hawks, Keigo Takami x Touya Todoroki

Summary: Hawks is having the worst day ever. He's spent the day modeling in a magazine photoshoot at a goddamn retro roller rink. He's tired, he's overstimulated and now his clothes have gone missing. Wonder who took them!? Now Hawks is stuck wearing slutty lil short shorts and ruby red roller skates when he runs into a certain someone... Enemies to lovers. DabiHawks smut. A18+ MDNI

CW: Blowjobs, handjobs, mention of fucking, kissing, dirty talk

Bed Chem. | Dabi x Hawks

“You ready for the next round of photos, Hawks?”

“Yeah, sure!”

Ugh. No, he’s honestly not. But, whatever! The Number Two Hero’s gotta act the part, right? Photo-shoots are a necessary evil to maintaining his rating on The Hero Chart.

Hawks ruffles his feathers and stretches his arms high over his head as he waits for the makeup gal to touch up his eyeliner. She delicately dabs at his face with a wet cloth, cleaning away the makeup where it’s running down his cheek with sweat. With a flourish, she reapplies the liner. Her motions are delicate, languid. The way she applies each stroke with care stirs some warmth in the winged hero. He tries to seem appreciative as she finishes touching him up.

The makeup lady looks to be in her early 50s. Decked out in black, she fits right in on the set. She has a kind face with greying, flyaway hair tucked into a light blue bandana. She’s nice. Hawks immediately warms to her.

“Don’t worry dear.” She says as she uses a soft brush to dab some concealer under his bright golden eyes. “They said this would be the last shot for the magazine.” The doting tone causes his chest to ache. She has such strong mom vibes. It makes him briefly think about his own sad excuse for a mother and how she sold him to The Commission all those years ago – no. He shakes his head. He can’t let his thoughts go down that dark alleyway. Not right now. Not when he needs to be on.

“Thanks!” He says brightly as the woman folds up her caboodle and stands back to admire her handiwork. He takes the hand mirror she hands him and grins into it, admiring the sharp red wings she’s drawn across his eyelids. “This looks great. Seriously I can’t thank you enough.” He hands back the mirror and she nods gratefully. He doesn’t get to ask her name before he’s whisked back onto set.

“Alright, Hawks. This is the last set up we have for today. Just skate a few laps around the rink with the models and that should give us what we need.” The art director says, flipping through his clipboard of notes absentmindedly.

Hawks nods, eyes glazed over as he zones out. They’ve been at this for hours. It’s a photo shoot for some fashion magazine (or maybe it’s a women’s health publisher!? He’s done so many shoots lately he honestly can’t remember). He’s exhausted and oddly sore from holding so many poses under the hot studio lights. All he wants to do is go back to his quiet apartment, take a cool shower in the dark and fall asleep after a handful of minutes mindlessly scrolling on his phone. But unfortunately…hero duty calls. It’s sort of ridiculous how much popularity seems to matter with being a hero.

The past few hours have been spent down the block taking photos in a sleek, upscale fashion photography studio. For this last bit of the shoot, the Magazine thought it would be fun to have some pictures taken with more…”personality.” It is for that reason that the Magazine has rented out a local roller rink for this next part of the day.

The place is dated but has an odd sort of retro charm to it. The large rink has smooth, freshly waxed wooden floors that glint in the lowlight. The walls are mostly black with glow in the dark accents and corny 80s posters plastered all over the place. The rink has a goofy DJ booth situated in the center under an obnoxiously large disco ball.

And then…there’s Hawks and his final outfit. They’ve put him in a tight fitting white tank top tucked into the tiniest pair of red athletic shorts Hawks has ever seen. His muscular thighs are on full display for all to see, and he’s oddly embarrassed about it. There’s a reason Hawks usually wears layers of clothing while doing his hero work. Of course, it gets cold flying in the air. That’s a given. But his thick coat and pants also serve to hide his body from the greedy eyes of the public. He liked being cozy and protected from the prying eyes of the world. He could pretend to flaunt and flirt all he wanted, but at the end of the day he wanted some part of his body to feel like his. It would be nice to have some sense of ownership over his own life.

But now here he is, in the world’s sluttiest little outfit, about to roller skate in circles while photographers captured pretty pictures of his confident façade. Jeez, this sucks.

He bends over and adjusts the striped high socks the costuming department had given him to wear under his bright red roller skates. This has got to be one of the worst outfits he’s worn in his entire life (And he’s worn some pretty atrocious outfits).

“Alright, places everyone!” The art director claps his hands and Hawks stands up and glides on his skates towards the middle of the rink track. There’s models everywhere wearing similarly slutty outfits – shorts and tank tops and high socks and bright 80s skates.

“Oh, Hawks.” The art director calls his way. The Winged Hero turns, eyebrows raised in a question. “What music do you want to listen to?”

Oh. That’s nice of them to ask. Hawks relishes in the tiny thing he’s been allowed to have control over. He bites his lip as he thinks it over.

“Can you play some 80s New Wave?” He asks, trying to sound like he doesn’t care if they do or not. The art director nods and waves for the sound tech to plug his iPhone into the DJ both audio jack.

“Alright, start skating everyone. We’ll call out suggestions as you go.” The photographers get into place on the outskirts of the rink. Hawks notes warily that a few of the photographers have been given skates of their own. This photo shoot is a fuckin’ lawsuit waiting to happen.

Nevertheless, he starts skating around the rink. The sooner he gets this over with, the better. As usual, he turns on the fucking charm. He chats with the models – all tall and beautiful and glowing as they grin and fake laugh at his jokes for the camera. He winks and flaps his wings flirtily and even skates on one leg just to give them some extra material to work with. The less direction he gets from the art director, the sooner he can leave.

Music starts to blast from the DJ booth – some top 40 pop crap that is most definitely not the 80s New Wave tunes that Hawks requested. Ugh.

They skate around for three full songs before something good finally comes on the playlist – it’s Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter. Now this Hawks can fuck with.

I was in a sheer dress the day that we met We were both in a rush, we talked for a sec

Hawks starts to skate faster, maneuvering his way around the gyrating models hamming it up for the camera.

You're friendin' me up so we could connect And what are the odds? You sent me a text And now the next thing I know, I'm like Manifest that you're oversized I digress, got me scrollin' like Out of breath, got me goin' like

Damn Hawks is a slut for a good beat. He spreads his arms out wide and as he soars across the roller rink floor, he swears it feels like he’s flying. His red wings puff up behind him and spread wide as he makes a sharp turn. He glides in front of a row of cameras gracefully, grinning toothily at the photographers as he whips around on one foot and starts to skate backwards.

“That’s it, Hawks! Everyone match his pace – try to look carefree!” The art director calls out as he claps, directing the models to loosen up a bit. “Give me a few more laps around the floor and make me believe you’re having fun!”

Ooh (ah) Who's the cute boy with the white jacket And the thick accent? Like Ooh (ah) Maybe it's all in my head But I bet we'd have really good bed chem

Hawks is really getting into a groove now despite the burning exhaustion that’s starting to creep up his thighs. (Note to self – add roller blading to the workout regimen, you’re clearly missing some key muscle areas!). He passes a cute male model – a tall guy with dark hair and a nose piercing who is also wearing an offensively tiny pair of shorts – and winks. The model blinks in surprise, clearly flattered, before he smiles widely back. Hawks strikes up a conversation as they skate side by side, shamelessly flirting with the guy and complimenting his equally skimpy outfit. The guy is kind of funny and definitely cute. With his dark hair and pierced features, he reminds Hawks a little of someone, but he can’t quite put his finger on who…

How you pick me up, pull 'em down, turn me 'round, oh, it just makes sense How you talk so sweet when you're doin' bad things That's bed (bed) chem (chem) How you're lookin' at me, yeah, I know what that means and I'm obsessed Are you free next week? I bet we'd have really good-

“Alright, that’s a wrap! Everyone bring it in.” The music cuts and Hawks glides his way towards the Art Director alongside all of the models. As the music fades and the disco ball lights cruise to a stop, exhaustion begins to sink into all of his muscles.

“Thanks Hawks! Great job, everyone! I think we have what we need.” The art director and the camera people all huddle up to review a few shots and seem quite pleased. Hawks lets his shoulders relax. He looks up at the disco ball sadly, feeling his own sparkle fade along with the music.

“I’m so sorry! So so incredibly sorry! Let me go and check the photo studio again, maybe someone brought them back over to our first location by mistake?” A PA helping out the wardrobe department frantically types into her cell phone as Hawks looks on, exasperated. He’s trying to maintain his usual easygoing public persona, but Christ is it becoming harder by the minute to be nice. The girl hits send and looks up, tired eyes wide with panic. “Have I told you how sorry I am?”

“Hey.” He says, tight smile stretched across his face. He’s exhausted and sweaty and could really use a shower right now. “It’s a-oh-Kay! I know how stressful it is to run these things. Please take your time, I’m sure you’ll find them.”

The girl nods gratefully and sweeps off to find a production van so she can go checkout the photo studio for his clothes.

Yes, you read that right: his clothes. His entire duffle bag of clothing has gone missing. Someone has misplaced his sweatpants, t-shirt, sneakers annnnd his custom made black hoodie with large slits in the back to accommodate his wings.

So to top off an already exhausting day, he’s stuck in his embarrassingly miniscule shorts.

They’ve finished taking the hot lights down, reducing the temperature in the roller rink by about 40 fucking degrees. Cool AC drifts throughout the chasmy space. And that would be a great wonderful amazing goddamn thing if he weren’t wearing a paper-thin tank top. His nipples perk up at the cold air and stand out like sore thumbs in this paper bag of a shirt. He crosses his arms across his chest self consciously. Fuuuuck this goddamn day to all hell.

In the wake of the production team packing up the lighting equipment, Craft Services has set up an impressive spread of food beside the rink. Most of the crew and models are snacking and laughing in the tiny cafeteria off to the left where the rink likely hosts kid’s birthday parties. (Hawks honestly wouldn’t know – he didn’t have any birthday parties as a kid. It just seems like the kinda thing people would do in a goofyass place like this).

The place is so goddamn loud. The crew is chattering and laughing and calling out to one another across the space as they snack and pack up equipment. Someone’s put on background music and it’s the worst type of rap. Craft Services is banging around pots and crockery as they put out new dishes on the food table. All of the layers of sound and noise are far too much for Keigo’s sensitive ears and feathers, and he feels so incredibly over stimulated he doesn’t know what to do. He prays that the PA can find his noise canceling headphones, but he’s low on both patience and hope.

Hawks is grateful to see that everyone is either wrapped up in the little after party or in packing up photo equipment. For once, he goes unnoticed.

He rubs his hands up and down his goosebumped arms a few times and tries to consider his options. The wardrobe department can likely cut wing holes into a shirt and jacket in a pinch. He’s sure they must have something comfy he can wear for his flight home. Or maybe he can pay one of the PAs to run out to a local clothing store with his credit card. The problem with either of these options is that they are going to take time. Hawks really isn’t in the mood to stick around this neon hell much longer.

He takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly to regulate his nervous system. Today is just one of those days when everything is out of his control and he just needs to – ugh he hates this phrase – go with the flow.

Okay, first priority. He needs a quick reset. If he finds the restroom, he can wipe off this damn makeup and splash his face with some water. Do some breathing exercises. Calm down his nervous system.

He awkwardly skate-walks (oh yeah, did I mention that he’s still wearing the goddamn ruby red-Dorthy-There’s-no-place-like-home-fucking-roller skates? Right. Because someone misplaced his Nikes. And to top it all off he can’t walk around in just the high striped socks because someone broke a stage light bulb and no one will let Japan’s Number Two Hero accidentally get a foot full of glass.) across the foam floor towards the men’s restroom.

He pushed open the door to see a few stalls with floor to ceiling doors alongside some urinals lining the lime green walls. All the neon on top of all the noise is making him feel a little woozy with overstimulation.

As he moves to enter the restroom some of his feathers on his wings prickle to life in warning, but he breathes deeply to calm them down. When he’s over stimulated like this his body tends to react to everything as a fight or flight situation. If anyone else is using the restroom right now it could be setting off his feathers, which can pick up on even the smallest of nearby vibrations.

Calm down. He repeats over and over in his mind as he tries to shake his feathers back into place. The only villain here is whatever production assistant misplaced my goddamn pants. Now let’s focus on solutions.

The weather’s not too cold out – maybe he should just hedge his bets and fly home in these stupid little shorts. If he flies high enough, there’s not shot that anyone would see him looking like such a dumbass.

Where the flooring outside was a foamy material that was easy to maneuver on skate wheels, the restroom floor is smooth black linoleum. As the door swings shut behind him he sees a “NO SKATES, SNEAKERS ONLY IN RESTROOMS” sign posted near the doorframe. Damn. He carefully places his steps and grips one of the sinks to minimize his rolling. The skates love the linoleum floor and seem to want nothing more than for him to freeskate his way around the dinky little restroom. Fat chance.

He grips the sink with both hands and stares at the drain for a few moments, breathing deeply in and out as he tries to master himself. The strategic side of his brain scrambles to make an actionable game plan. Something easy that will get him from Point A (this shitty day and this shitty roller rink) to Point B (home).

Alright Keigo. Splash some water on your face. Then make a beeline for that nice makeup lady and ask her to help you find someone form wardrobe to help you out of this mess. It’ll be fine. All you’ll need to do is crank up that Number Two Hero charm.

Alight. Yeah. That’ll work.

Feeling a tiny bit more confident now that he has a plan, Keigo pulls himself up to look at himself in the long counter mirror. His sharp eyes widen in surprise and he almost growls from the back of his throat.

There, in the mirror he can see Dabi standing behind him, leaning against the lime green florescent wall as casual as you please. He’s wearing a tight black turtleneck sweater tucked into loose black canvas pants. His hands rest in his pockets, looking harmless. A toothy grin stretches across his face, his bright teeth contrasting sharply with his mottled, patchwork skin. His bright aqua eyes are narrowed threateningly as if to say “caught ya.”

“Hey birdie.” He says softly. “Miss me?”

“Fuck Dabi. What the hell are you doing here. There are civilians around. I’m at work right now.”

Dabi smirks and mouths ‘at work’ as if it’s a fun little joke between the two of them.

“That your new work uniform?”

Dabi takes a step towards the door, and Keigo tenses.

“Hey, now Hawks. Calm down.” He says easily as he reaches out a hand to click the door’s lock into place. “Just ensuring us some privacy.”

“How’d you even get in here?” Hawks asks, on edge. He’s exasperated – he can’t catch a fucking break today.

“You know the funny thing about sets like this…you just walk around in black and no one bats an eye.” Dabi says smoothly, looking down at Hawks with

Keigo grips the sink as he carefully turns himself around to face Dabi on his roller skates. His wings feel so cramped and hard to maneuver in this tiny space, but he somehow manages. Dabi waits for him to turn around, smirking all the while. This is so fucking embarrassing.

“I have a request for you from the Paranormal Liberation Army.”

“You mean you have another test for me.”

“You’re smarter than you look, pretty boy.” Dabi drawls, crossing his arms and leaning his head back against the neon green wall. “The upper brass is not fully convinced you’re loyal to our cause yet.”

“Great. Got it. Just tell me what I gotta do and leave.” Keigo is practically seething.

“Wow, someone’s got their little hero panties in a twist.” Dabi quirks an eyebrow upwards in surprise. “What happened to you today? Usually you’re mister sunshine.”

Dabi’s face is suddenly very close. He lifts a scarred hand towards Keigo’s face as if he wants to touch it, but then thinks the better of it. His arm drops limply to his side.

“…something up?” He asks, his face dropping into a frown. Usually they’ll go back and forth with some infuriating banter. But tonight, Hawks is all teeth and anger. It’s unsettling.

“Just a shit day.” Hawks says through gritted teeth. “Tell me what you need from me already and I’ll do it.”

Dabi takes a step back, considering him with more care.

“Nah. I’ll find you later this week and give you the assignment. Your vibes are off right now.”

“Of course my fucking vibes are off. I’m stuck in some godforsaken 80s fever dream wearing a cursed fuckin’ outfit.”

Dabi looks at him appraisingly, eyes lingering on the way Hawks’ slim waist dips into his short shorts. “It’s not so much cursed as it is…slutty.” The observation is more appreciative than mocking.

Keigo’s eyebrows fly up his forehead.

Slutty!?

Usually he’s so careful with how he shows emotion – so diligent about being the perfect little spy for The Hero Commission. But right now he’s tired and over stimulated and Dabi – his mother-fucking enemy – just called him slutty using a tone that makes Keigo want to melt into a puddle of hormones and arousal.

Dabi stares down at him, expression steely and unreadable.

The vibe in the little neon bathroom has shifted, and they both know it.

“Did you just call me…slutty?” Keigo preens a bit, trying to stand up straighter but failing miserably in his slippery skates. He leans back into the porcelain sink to keep from sliding to the ground.

“No I called your outfit slutty, shithead.” Dabi says, jerking his chin up at Hawks. His eyes narrow, a hunter surveying his prey. “Look at those fuckin’ shorts. It’s like you’re begging to be fucked or something.”

“Excuse me?” Keigo can’t believe his ears. His grip on the sink tightens. He can’t decide if he wants to throw a punch at Dabi’s pretty fuckin’ face…or if he wants to…kiss him!?

“You heard me, birdie.” And the guy fuckin’ smiles. He flashes those bright white teeth in a way that makes him look both gorgeous and terrifying.

At this point Hawks is extremely aware of two things:

Thing One: He’s always had a weird thing for Dabi since they first met at the Liberation Army headquarters a few months ago. Dabi is the only one who truly sees right through all of his Commission-trained charm and bravado – the only League member who still doesn’t quite trust Hawks. Hawks loves a good challenge. Relishes it. And Dabi is a challenge in so many delightful ways. And Dabi is hot. He’s so goddamn tall. And he’s just Keigo’s type – covered in piercings and emo accessories and dark and brooding. A perfect balance to the faux sunshine Hawks has been trained to radiate out at all times. Keigo’s never seen the man shirtless, but in the early morning moments between dreaming and waking he’s often imagined what could be laying in wait for him beneath those layers of leather and black clothing. Yes, Hawks is attracted to Dabi. There’s no way around that.

Thing Two: Keigo’s little shorts are starting to feel…tighter. Keigo is an absolute sucker for teasing and dirty talk. And with all that Dabi’s saying to him right now…well, Keigo is getting hard and there’s nothing he can do to hide it.

And Dabi is noticing.

“All that for me, birdie?” Dabi says, eyeing Hawks’ package appreciatively. “Looks like it was worth my time to come all this way out here after all.

Keigo can’t hide the fierce blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Listen. Let’s drop the PLF shit for a bit.” Dabi says, shrugging his shoulders and holding his palms open, almost as if in surrender. “You know I don’t trust you, and no amount of “assignments” or “missions” are gonna prove your loyalty to me. I know you’re some sort of fuckin’ Hero Commission spy.” Dabi lifts his hand to his ear so he can play with one of his earrings, twisting the piercing around in his finger. “But I don’t really give a shit about that work stuff right now. It sounds like we both had shit days, and there’s something I wanna do.”

He takes a step towards Hawks, slow and catlike. Hawks is on edge, wary. A base part of him revels in the intense look of Dabi’s bright aqua eyes. With a stab of surprise in his gut, he realizes that the hot, tall, pierced photo model he was rollerskating with had been reminiscent of Dabi.

Oh! That’s who that hot guy reminded me of. Hawks thinks as he tenses for some kind of blow or attack. “Hey, Dabi. You don’t model on the side, do you? I met a guy who looks like you earlier. Real emo and attractive in a weird, pierced sort of way.

Dabi stops in his tracks, inches away from Hawks. “You think I’m attractive in a…” Dabi snorts. “Weird, pierced sort of way?” What little air lies between them crackles with electricity.

“Well…” Oh shit, did he really just say that out loud? Yeah, he’s always thought Dabi is attractive. How could anyone not think that Dabi is attractive? He hadn’t meant to verbalize it, though.

“Shut up. Damn bird.” Dabi closes the gap between them, grabbing Hawks’ chin hard between his thumb and forefinger. Before the wing hero can send out a barrage of sharp feathers his way, Dabi smashes their lips together in an aggressive kiss.

Oh. Holy. Fuck.

Hawks moans into the kiss as their mouths connect again and again and again.

Dabi is a goddamn dream of a kisser. His style consists of hot open-mouthed kisses punctuated by nicks of staples and teeth. His bottom, toasted lip is a bit dry compared to the top one, but it feels good all the same when it slides against Hawks’ own wet mouth. Dabi leans forward, his arm snakes in between Hawks’ own hand and hip to rest on the sink so he can#dabihawks#my hero academia#mha#boku no hero academia#boku no academia#bnha#boku no hero#bnha manga#anime#keigo takami#mha hawks#hotwings#bnha hawks#mha touya#touya todoroki#bnha touya#dabi#todoroki touya#bnha dabi#hawks#HotWings#Dabihawks#dabi x hawks#hawks x dabi#keigo takami fluff#mha takami keigo#bnha keigo#Keigo Takami x Touya Todoroki#Todoroki#touya x keigo prop himself up. He uses his other hand to continue to hold Hawks’ face in a vice like grip as they kiss and kiss and kiss.

Hawks doesn’t know what to do with his hands or his body so he just focuses on the way that Dabi’s mouth and tongue dance across his own. Dabi licks the bottom of Hawks’ mouth before tugging his lower lip between his teeth. Hawks groans into it, letting Dabi do whatever the hell he wants. It’s delightful and sweet and dirty all at the same time.

When they finally break apart, they’re both breathing heavy. Dabi’s striking blue eyes are half-lidded as he gazes down at Hawks.

“Take off your shirt.” Dabi says in a low, gravely rasp. Hawks doesn’t need telling twice. He uses one hand to keep bracing himself against the sink (the damn roller skates are barely holding up his shaky legs right now), and uses the other to peel the thin tank top off of his quaking body.

“That’s better.” Dabi says, stepping back a bit so he can admire the hero’s chiseled physique. “I figured you were ripped, but holy shit.”

He slides his palm down Hawks’ neck and across the bulging muscles of his chest. “This is insane.” He dips his hand lower to feel the hero’s washboard abs before dipping a finger underneath the waistband of those godforsaken tiny shorts. Hawks hisses at the feeling of hot fingertips so close to the tip of his cock. He’s instantly rock hard and left wanting when Dabi slides his fingers back up and makes sure to snap the waistband of the shorts soundly against Hawks’ stomach.

Dabi must see the desperation in Hawks’ sharp eyes because he whispers: “Patience is a virtue, little hero.” He takes a step back from Hawks and discards his own shirt, pulling the turtleneck up and off of his head. It leaves his black hair looking fluffy and staticky. He then steps back towards the hero and leans his head down so he can kiss his way across Hawks’ jawline. Hawks can barely breathe he’s so turned on right now. Dabi continues to make his way down Hawks’ neck, stopping to suck on his pulse point. The winged hero moans at the feel of Dabi’s lips, rough and soft at the same time.

Dabi takes care to make out with Hawks’ neck for a bit – pressing those hot lips of his over and over to the delicate skin beneath the hero’s jaw and along his shoulder. Hawks could stand like that forever, letting Dabi lavish him with kisses and licks.

Hawks is taken by surprise when the scene escalates, and out of nowhere the villain drops to his knees. Before Hawks even knows what’s happening, Dabi has pulled his tiny shorts and underwear straight down to the ground. His proud cock bounces out, fully erect and standing ready for action against dense golden curls. Dabi takes a moment to admire it, licking his chapped lips as Hawks’ dick stands at attention, a drop of shiny precum clinging to the flushed tip.

“Knew you’d be pretty.” Is all he says before he practically inhales Hawks’ cock.

“Fuck – ah!” Hawks almost falls (well, rolls) over in surprise as Dabi licks the tip of his cock and takes it in his stapled mouth. The contact feels so deliciously good – Dabi’s mouth is warm and hot in all the right ways. It’s been so long since Hawks has had good head, and Dabi is most certainly going to give him good head.

Dabi wastes no time as he hollows out his cheeks and begins bobbing his head on Hawks’ dick. He snakes a hand up to the winged hero’s waist to hold him in place, ruby red roller skates be damned. His other hand makes its way upwards to grip at the meat of Hawks’ left thigh. His fingertips dig into the hard muscle, and somewhere in the back of Hawks’ hormone-addled mind, he knows that there will be bruise marks burned into his skin come morning.

Hawks’s cock feels like its in heaven, and his brain is hazy with lust as he looks down at this fucking god of a villain who’s sucking him off in a neon green roller rink bathroom.

Dabi throws him a brief but smug look with those sharp, turquoise eyes and it causes Hawks’ stomach to squeeze and flip. His heart pounds in his chest and he needs to remind himself to breathe, goddammit when Dabi pulls his mouth off with a loud “pop!” and begins licking up and down Hawks’ shaft.

“Fuck Dabi. Yeah – j-just like that.”

Dabi flutters his tongue across the sharp veins of Hawks’ dick, making his way upwards slowly. When he finally gets to the tip, he swirls his tongue around the sensitive space just beneath the head before sucking the thick member back into his mouth. Hawks sees stars.

Dabi continues on like that for a bit – alternating between licking and sucking and just generally doing magical things with his mouth as Hawks looks on, dumbstruck.

In a spark of inspiration, Dabi reaches up and puts his hands on Hawks’ slim hips, thumbs digging into the divots of muscle that fall into a “V” shape as his waist tapers off. The patchwork villain jerks the blonde’s hips forward slightly, and Hawks glides towards him. Dabi wraps his mouth deeper around Hawks’ cock, pushing and pulling the blonde back and forth across the linoleum floor on those stupid roller skates. He’s sliding in and out of Dabi’s mouth – absolutely face fucking the hell out of him in a languid, controlled sort of way.

It’s sexy.

It’s hot.

It’s far too much.

“Dabi.” Hawks practically sings as the villain picks up his pace, still using the roller skates to his advantage. Hawks can feel his orgasm building like kindling catching into a bonfire. “Dabi.”

“Hmm?” Dabi’s eyes flick up to look at him almost lazily as he continues to suck.

“I’m gonna…Shit that’s good! I’m gonna cum…” Hawks doesn’t know how much longer he can last like this, being absolutely manhandled by his enemy. He feels heat prickle across his face as he chases his high in Dabi’s mouth.

The villain acknowledges Hawks by digging his fingers harder into the blonde’s sensitive hips with the intention of bruising. He continues his even pace – pushing and pulling Hawks’ cock in and out of his mouth with practiced skill. God does Dabi love roller skates right now.

“Dabiiii.” Hawks moans out through gritted teeth, feeling the orgasm begin to roll through him. When the dark haired villain doesn’t relent, Hawks figures he’s alright with getting cum in his mouth. He lets go – all of the days stress and exhaustion coming out of him in one golden wave of pleasure. His crimson wings fluff up and fan out behind him in ecstasy. He cums hard into Dabi’s mouth, the orgasm rolling from the base of his cock onto Dabi’s waiting tongue.

Dabi holds Hawks gaze – Blue eyes boring into Hawks’ golden-brown ones. Hawks shudders as he cums, watching Dabi’s hot mouth take everything he’s willing to give. For his part, Dabi is sure to keep sucking in time with Hawks’ orgasm, tasting the hero’s hot salty cum on his tongue. Dabi makes a show of swallowing, letting Hawks see the way that his mouth and throat are working overtime to accommodate the hero’s thick load.

Hawks comes down slowly, his sensitive cock still twitching as it pumps out the last remnants of pleasure. Dabi has brings a hand down from Hawks’ hips and wraps it around the hero’s sensitive base, slowly jerking at him as he comes back to himself. When he’s finally finished, Hawks all but collapses backward into the sink, panting as he desperately tries to catch his breath. Dabi releases the hero from his grasp, leaning back on his heals and wiping his juicy mouth on his sleeve.

He smirks up at the wing hero who’s currently looking fucked out and boneless. “That good?”

“Good enough. Clearly.” Hawks says, rolls his eyes. “Well you’re down there, mind unlacing these fuckin’ things?”

For once, Dabi doesn’t have a biting retort or complaint. He dutifully unties Hawks’ ruby red roller skates and helps him step out of them. Once out of the skates, the tiny shorts drop the remainder of the way down Hawks’ calves and land on the floor in a heap, leaving him in nothing but tall striped socks.

“Ugh note to self: never wear roller skates again. Fuck those are uncomfortable.” Hawks wiggles his toes on the linoleum and bends over to massage his calves and ankles.

“I dunno…I kind of liked them.” Dabi says, rising from the floor. Hawks closes the distance between them and slides his hands up into Dabi’s hair, pulling the villain’s mouth back to his own.

“Fuck.” Hawks says between kisses. “Who would have thought you could give head like that?”

Dabi smirks into each searing kiss, letting Hawks manhandle him desperately. The blonde lets a hand wander down Dabi’s neck and across his back, feeling the taught muscles there. He brings his other hand down to palm at the villain’s pants and is unsurprised to find him rock hard and wanting. Dabi rolls his hips into Hawks’ hand and laughs into his mouth at the contact.

“What you gonna do about that, hero?” He hisses before turning his face to lick up Hawks’ jawline. The blonde shudders at the hot, wet contact.

“Do you have a condom on you?” Hawks asks, breathless as he pulls away from Dabi’s face and blinks up at him, unsteady.

“What do I look like to you, a damn vending machine - ” Hawks claps a hand to Dabi’s mouth, cutting him off. He smirks up at the villain, rolling his eyes almost playfully.

“Alright, blowjob it is!” He pushes Dabi hard in the chest, guiding him to the neon green wall.

“Ugh.” The villain says, looking at the painted concrete wall with disgust. “This place looks like it’s covered in, like, a thousand STDs.”

“It’s called neon, dumbass.” Hawks holds his palm flat against Dabi’s chest, ensuring the dark haired man’s back is flush against the wall. There’s a crackle coming from the ceiling and Hawks glances upwards to see a vent to their left. Huh, they must have just turned on the AC. The chilly, mechanical breeze of air conditioning hits Hawks’ hot skin, cooling the sweat of his back. Goosebumps jump across his skin as he looks down at his naked body, suddenly feeling a bit too exposed.

“Hold that thought.” He makes a gesture for Dabi to stay where he is. The villain watches him, an almost bored expression coloring his eyes as Hawks scoops up his teeny tiny shorts and slips them back on, one leg at a time.

“Aw, the show’s over?” Dabi says flatly. Hawks whirls around to face him.

“Oh no, we’re just getting started.” Hawks tilts his head at Dabi, throwing on his charming camera-ready smile. For a moment, the villain seems frozen, almost speechless. Hawks is a little surprised – he knows his thousand-watt hero smile can have devastating consequences when executed correctly, but he never thought that Dabi would get caught up in it the same way his fans seem to.

Hawks takes a step back towards Dabi, crowding up into his space. He slides his hand up to grip at Dabi’s jaw, forcing him to tilt his head down to fully look Hawks in the face.

“You think I’m pretty, don’t you?” the hero whispers pompously.

Dabi glowers down at him. “Well I wouldn’t suck off just any ugly bastard, now would I? I’m selective.”

Hawks lets go of Dabi’s face and roughly pushes it aside. “That’s not good enough. You want my mouth on your cock? Do better.”

“I don’t need to take this shit from you.”

“Um. Actually, you do. I don’t see any other handsome heroes lining up to top you off.”

Dabi actually smiled at this – his face stretching into a full grin that goes all the way up to his eyes.

“I like it when you’re feisty.” He says, dipping his head to catch Hawks’ mouth in another scorching kiss. The contact leaves Hawks breathless and wanting more. “Of course I think you’re goddamn beautiful. I wouldn’t want you so badly otherwise.” Dabi says, pulling his face away from the hero’s.

“That’s all I needed to hear.” Hawks says softly before attacking Dabi’s neck with his mouth. He licks a hot stripe across the other man’s throat, then finds a piece of clean, unblemished skin to bite into. He lets his canines press down on the delicate skin before he sucks the spot into his mouth. A hickey blooms instantly beneath his lips and Dabi groans, delighted at the mix of simultaneous pain and pleasure.

“Do that again.” The villain practically commands, reaching between them to palm at his hard on.

“I dunno, you’ve barely got any skin left that isn’t charred.” Hawks says simply. Not mockingly, just observing. He doesn’t want to unintentionally dole out more damage.

“Fuck if I care. Put your teeth wherever you want.” His hand climbs its way into Hawks’ thick blonde hair, fingers wrapping around the bushy locks. He gathers a few curls at the nape of Hawks’ neck and pulls gently, causing Hawks to moan at the unexpected contact.

“Keep making pretty little noises like that and you’ll make me cum before you even get my cock in you.” Dabi gives another experimental tug and Hawks’ knees nearly buckle he’s swooning hard for this idiot. He takes a deep breath and decides to regain control of the situation, pushing Dabi’s hands out of his hair and dropping to his knees before the emo flame wielder. He reaches out and undoes the button to Dabi’s loose pants before pulling the zipper down as far as it can go.

To be honest, Hawks is having a ton of intrusive thoughts about Dabi’s dick – does his dick have a patchwork of charred flesh with staples holding it together? Does he have it pierced? Is he well endowed? Each of the possibilities is intriguing in its own way, and Hawks is eager to unwrap Dabi like a present on his fucking birthday.

Dabi doesn’t resist as Hawks slips the baggy pants down his slim hips and onto the ground. His legs are long, toned and crisscrossed with staples. The skin is mottled with purple, but less so than his torso. His thighs are surprisingly muscular and thick. Goddamn he’s beautiful. Beneath those baggy pants, he’s wearing a pair of charcoal boxers that leave little to the imagination. Hawks’ eyes widen as his greatest hopes are confirmed – Dabi is fuckin’ packing.

The villain’s dick is outlined beneath the underwear – a hard line leaning left. There’s a small damp spot on the front of the boxers where Dabi’s dick has leaked precum during all of their foreplay. The visual is incredibly hot.

“Why’d ya stop?” Dabi asks in a husky voice, hands on his hips as he stares down at Hawks’ whipped expression. “Intimidated?”

Hawks quirks his mouth up in a small smile. “You wish.”

Dabi barks out a laugh in response, moving his fingers beneath the elastic waistband of his boxers and tugging them down in a swift motion. His cock springs to attention, coming up to kiss his abs as it stands fully erect and flush with arousal.

Hawks was wrong – his cock isn’t burned, charred or pierced. But he was right about it being fucking massive. Dabi’s cock is beautiful – long with some weight to it, the tip flushed with excitement. Hawks has had a few steamy rendezvous over the years with other men, but never has he seen a dick this pretty. He practically salivates as he takes it in.

“Like what you see?” Dabi says, stretching his arms up and behind his head as his cock twitches excitedly against his slim but toned stomach.

“Absolutely.” Hawks says, licking his lips slowly as he reaches up to smooth the palm of his hands down Dabis’ perfect hip bones. “How do you hide all of this in those ridiculous leather pants of yours?”

This makes Dabi snort. This may be the first time Hawks has heard has hear d a genuine laugh from the man, and he likes the sound of it. The way he snorts into his laughter is geeky and distinctly uncool. It humanizes him, in a way. Hawks’ smile is so big his cheeks start to get sore. He quickly resets his mouth into a cool, thin line. Careful now. He thinks to himself as he slides his hands down to grasp at Dabi’s firm ass appreciatively. Can’t catch feelings for a villain that you’ll eventually betray.

Hawks is no angel – the Hero Commission has certainly seen to that. But crashing out over Dabi – Dabi the damn top member of the League of Villains – that would be so incredibly morally wrong that Hawks can’t believe his horny brain even bubbled up the idea in the first place. Ok. Refocus. Sex now, guilt and morality check later.

He lets his hands explore the expanse of Dabi’s cheeks. Jeez, he loves Dabi’s ass. It’s firm with a tiny bit of bounce to it. He looks up appreciatively at the rest of Dabi’s body. He’s a bit taken aback and just how skinny the villain is. He knows that up until The League joined up with the Paranormal Liberation Front, Dabi, Shigaraki and the others didn’t have a reliable source for meals. From the intel Hawks had gathered at the PLF HQ, the League members often went hungry, not knowing where their next meals would come from.

Dabi’s physique tells a story of malnourishment. He’s far too slim for his height. His muscles are lean in a wiry sort of way. Even though he’s muscular and has these to-die-for thighs, it’s clear that he’s not in a healthy place. He’s not being cared for. And Hawks knows all about being malnourished and neglected – before the Commission got a hold of him, he recalls being shaky and hungry with weak muscles from malnourishment.

So as Hawks appreciates Dabi’s beautiful body, he can’t help the way that his heart aches for the villain. A tiny voice in his head says, “I could take care of you. I could take you to my favorite restaurants and show you what it’s like to have a full belly and a warm bed. I could feed you and kiss you and fuck you until you fall asleep all safe and happy and emo and we could live happily ever after like some goddamn gay version of Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves in The Lake House – kissing into the credit scenes.

Hawks blinks in surprise as the affectionate thoughts scroll through his head. All that just from cumming in Dabi’s mouth and then seeing him naked in a neon green roller rink bathroom!? Fuck. Has he been down bad for this emo motherfucker all along!?

Um. Okay wow that was a weirdly visceral pipedream thought. Hawks tries to lock in and clear his mind. There will be plenty of processing later when he’s taking a fresh shower and can be blessedly alone with his thoughts. For now – he has a blowjob to attend to.

He runs his hands slowly down Dabi’s thighs, memorizing the feel of Dabi’s warm skin beneath his fingertips. He looks up at the emo villain with bright golden eyes, and Dabi hits him back with a smoky gaze that could level buildings (probably has, to be honest. Dabi does have a police documented history of arson). His nose piercings glint in the artificial lighting as he turns his head ever so slightly so he can better look at Hawks. The hero runs his fingers lightly up the sensitive skin of Dabi’s inner thighs and the villain bites his lip and inhales sharply. His cock twitches. He’s so fucking horny.

Finally, Hawks puts him out of his misery and slides a hand up to grip Dabi’s cock and oh shit does it feel good in his palm. He runs his hand up and down the shaft, taking care to vary the pressure of his grip as he gets towards the tip. He swipes his thumb across Dabi’s sensitive head, smearing his precum around under his fingers so he can use it as lube. Dabi lets out a slight gasp at the motion, his arms falling to his sides as he continues to watch Hawks work at his thick cock.

Hawks looks down, staring hungrily at the hot member in his hand as he strokes slowly, carefully up and down. He decides to take it nice and slow – they both need this. A break. Softness. He jerks Dabi’s cock slowly, full of care. Almost as if to quietly say this is how it can be with me – sex can be slow. It can be gentle. Hawks wonders if Dabi has ever been handled with care in bed.

“What are you doing?” Dabi groans, looking down at him with a frown. “You’re literally the slowest bitch on the face of the Earth. Just get me off already.”

Hawks pauses and looks back up at the villain with narrowed eyes. “It’s all about the build up. Shut up and enjoy it.”

“I’d enjoy it more if I was cumming all over your face right now, jeez.” Dabi says defensively, but he crosses his arms and shuts the fuck up all the same. He’s looking down at Hawks almost curiously (as curiously as one can look while they’re brooding into a handjob). Hawks grins a little as he starts to jerk Dabi off again, this time going a tiny bit faster until he feels Dabi’s dick respond with an appreciative twitch.

He then leans forward and plants a row of wet kisses up Dabi’s inner thigh as he continues to glide his hand up and down Dabi’s perfect cock. He realizes that he could use a tiny bit more lubrication. He gathers saliva in his mouth and looks up at Dabi to maintain eye contact as he drools like an absolute whore onto the villain’s ready cock.

Dabi blinks in surprise at the explicit visual, and then stares hungrily at Hawks to see what he’ll do next. The winged hero uses his hand to glide his saliva across Dabi’s excited cock and increases his pace a bit – the villain closes his eyes at the contact, clearly seeing stars behind his eyelids as he lets out a tiny breath of pleasure. Good. That’s what Hawks wants.

He leans his mouth forward and starts to suck at Dabi’s balls, sucking one into his mouth as he continues along with the hand job. At this, Dabi lets out a full on groan from the back of his throat. Okay, so he’s a sensitive little bitch. Hawks can work with that.

He sucks for a few more moments on Dabi’s package, letting his jaw go slack so he can pull his mouth away to do more dirty work. He ghosts hot breath along the underside of Dabi’s cock before tonguing at his flushed tip. Dabi seems to think that Hawks is speeding things up like he asked, and he hums appreciatively when he feels Hawks’ wet mouth hover just above his cockhead.

But no – Hawks is just teasing. He goes back down to worshiping Dabi’s thighs with his mouth, lavishing them in kisses as he slows his stroke game on Dabi’s dick. Dabi lets out a growl of frustration, just wanting Hawks to get it quick and dirty and done with.

“Patience.” Hawks says as he finds a particularly sensitive spot on Dabi’s thigh and tongues at it, appreciating the way Dabi’s knees give a twitch at the motion. “Patience.” He places a kiss on the spot. “Is.” Another kiss. “A Virtue.” He swirls his tongue back up towards Dabi’s package.

“Oh fuck you.” Dabi hisses between clenched teeth, arms still crossed against his chest and eyes shut tight. He drops his head back to rest against the smooth neon green wall.

“You could be fucking me right now. If you carried a damn emergency condom.” Hawks teases, using his free hand to caress Dabi’s sensitive balls. They quiver at the delicate attention the hero serves up. Dabi is blessedly speechless for once. Hawks glances up to see that he’s really relishing this, despite his complaints. His eyes are still cramped shut but his eyebrows are knitting against each other and he’s biting his lip hard. He’s doing everything possible to not let Hawks see him enjoying himself.

Hawks slows down his pace even more. He can tell that he’s frustrating Dabi endlessly, and he loves it. Dabi’s mouth has settled into a scowl, but his chest rises and falls in a quick rhythm that hinting to Hawks that he’s getting flustered.

“Hey Dabi.” Hawks says, casual. “You’re allowed to enjoy yourself. We can go back to being whatever kind of fucked up enemies when we’re back on the clock. We can pretend this never happened.” He lolls his tongue around the head of Dabi’s cock, eliciting a shiver from the villain, before continuing to kiss up his hipbone. “Let yourself fucking relax a little.”

Dabi cracks open an eye to glare at Hawks, but he takes a deep breath in and releases it slowly before dropping his arms to his sides.

“Alright, birdie. Make me enjoy it.” He says, half daring, half resigned. Hawks grins into the skin of his slim belly before planting a kiss beside his navel.

“Just remember – you asked for this.” Hawks says cheekily, kissing down the light “V” shape of the svelte muscles at Dabi’s trim waist.

“Yeah, yeah. Just get on with - ” Dabi’s words get stuck in his throat as, in a sudden burst of movement, Hawks wrenches one of Dabi’s long legs off the ground and throws it over his shoulder. He flings an arm between Dabi’s legs to brace against the wall, allowing himself to bare most of the villain’s weight. In the same motion, he takes Dabi’s cock in his mouth and starts sucking like his life depends on it (And maybe it does to be honest).

Dabi was clearly not expecting this, because he lets out a moan of surprise that quickly turns into undiluted pleasure at the change in position. His dick fits so snuggly in Hawks’ hot mouth, and the thrill of being handled so harshly yet carefully is turning him on in a way that neither of them could have anticipated. He’s rock hard and ready to cum any moment.

Hawks hollows out his cheeks and bobs his head in a steady rhythm, enjoying the light salty taste of Dabi’s unblemished skin. He periodically swirls his tongue around the head of the villain’s cock, eliciting broken mumbles of praise from the hot villain.

“Y-yeah. Oh shit. Just like that.” Dabi stammers mindlessly, his fingers dropping from his chest to thread their way through Hawks’ thick hair. He pulls gently at the hero’s blonde locks, eliciting a hum of appreciation from Hawks. Mmm that’s hot. The hum sends tiny shockwaves of vibration through Dabi’s cock and he feels his legs start to shake with pleasure. Hawks feels it too. He knows the villain is getting close, and he’s excited to push him over the edge.

Dabi’s eyes flutter open so he can get a visual on the situation. He takes in the way his pale leg is thrown haphazardly over Hawks’ strong, tanned shoulder. Then there’s the way that Hawks is absolutely ravaging him – deep throating his cock in a way that’s both slutty and caring. Hawks is so tuned into Dabi’s pleasure; he’s contorted himself into an uncomfortable position. He’s simultaneously supporting most of Dabi’s weight while sucking him dry. It’s the first time Dabi’s had sex where a partner has focused entirely on his desire. He’s so fucking turned on that he’s shaking.

Hawks slides his mouth off of Dabi’s dick with a pop. He takes a few ragged breaths and then says in a hoarse tone. “I know you’re close. I want to make you cum. I want you to enjoy yourself. Fucking take it from me Dabi.” He takes Dabi’s cock back in his mouth and wrenches his leg upwards, further over the hard muscles of his Pro Hero shoulder.

Dabi’s head hits the neon green bathroom wall with a light “thud.” He’s speechless, blissed out, heaven struck. Hawks seems to know exactly what to say and do to turn him on. He’s always been one for dirty talk – but he’s never truly been on the receiving end of said talking. The way Hawks looks at him and sucks him off and speaks to him so damn directly…well it’s all far too much and he’s certain sex has now officially been ruined forever for him - its likely that only Hawks is capable of fucking him this good.

Hawks sucks rhythmically at Dabi’s dick and does all sorts of fancy things with his tongue that shoot zigzags of pleasure into the villain’s belly. It only takes about 45 seconds of this for him to absolutely shatter. He doesn’t even see the orgasm coming – all of a sudden without warning it hits him like a train. It’s hard, fast and breathtaking. His entire body is a livewire of shaking energy as he feels himself cum, hot waves of sticky fluid splattering the back of the hero’s throat in rapid succession.

Dabi cries out – a mix of surprise and pleasure. The noise that’s ripped from the back of his throat sounds suspiciously like Hawks’ name, but the villain would never own up to that fact. (Besides, what’s said during sex doesn’t really mean anything, right? Right.) If Hawks weren’t holding him up, his knees would be buckling right now because holy fucking shit he feels so deliriously good as Hawks draws the orgasm out of him and swallows cleanly.

And for his part, Hawks is in heaven down beneath the villain, sucking the remnants of Dabi’s high through chapped lips. He absolutely loves giving during sex. Something about the way he can make someone fall apart with only his touch, his mouth, his cock…he supposes it’s a trauma response, wanting to pleasure people for attention and potentially because he wants to feel a bit of control. In his lifetime, he’s had so little control. It’s nice to have a moment of being truly in charge.

But honestly…he sees Dabi as a mirror to himself; someone who’s been neglected and unloved. And for a moment it feels good to give Dabi the things he himself wants. So when Dabi throws his head back and moans out his name in a choked voice, the hero feels incredibly accomplished and – selfishly – fulfilled knowing he’s done his job well.

When Dabi’s cock is spent and limp between Hawks’ lips, he gently slides his mouth off. A thin thread of spit and cum connects his lips to Dabi’s pretty cock as he backs away. It’s sloppy and gross and he can feel Dabi drinking in the hot visual from above. He carefully removes Dabi’s lengthy leg from where it hangs over his shoulder, lowering it back to the ground. He tries to ignore the way that Dabi’s entire body is still quaking.

He decides he can get away with one more kindness before Dabi comes back into his body. He reaches for Dabi’s charcoal boxers where they lay abandoned on the floor, and he holds them out to the villain, helping him pull one shaky leg into the underwear at a time. Dabi doesn’t put up a fight, awkwardly allowing Hawks to help him get back into the comfortable fabric. When the boxers are finally back in place with their elastic waistband low on Dabi’s defined hips, the villain slides down the wall so he can sit on the smooth linoleum floor across from Hawks. He closes his eyes as he leans his head back against the wall and takes a few deep, slow breaths.

Finally, he says two shaky words: “Holy. Shit.”

Hawks laughs genuinely because honestly, he’s thinking the same thing.

“Is sex for you usually that good?” Hawks questions, his tone completely serious as he cocks his head to the side.

Dabi leans his head back on the wall and stares up at the florescent lights. “Never.” He shifts his gaze to take in Hawks’ expression. “You?”

“Nope. I actually don’t usually cum that easily.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Huh.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, neither sure of what to say next.

“I guess…we should get going.” Dabi says, not quite certain of himself. He reaches for his discarded clothes and gets to his feet so he can put them back on. Hawks watches, sad to see that beautiful body be swallowed up by loose black fabric.

“Yeah.” Hawks looks around for his own clothes, and then remembers that all he has available to put on are his tiny see through tank top and the bright ruby roller skates. He groans miserably, walking with resignation towards the teensy top that lays in a sad little heap under the sink. He makes a small noise of dismay – the sink pipe has been dripping water onto the already atrocious shirt. Dabi looks up at the sound.

“Oh. Hold on.” He says quickly. He ducks his head down so the hero can’t see his expression. Hawks notes that he looks almost embarrassed.

Dabi strides away from him on long legs and disappears into one of the bathrooms stalls, kicking out a familiar looking designer duffle bag.

“…is that?” Hawks sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.

“Yeah I stole your fucking clothes, big deal.” Dabi shrugs, kicking the extremely high-end duffle across the linoleum floor towards Hawks. “I wanted to see you squirm for a bit when you realized you had to stay in that slutty little outfit.”

“Ugh. Why are you literally the worst. This day has been just awful.” Hawks grabs for the bag, pulling it towards him across the gross linoleum floor.

“I hope it wasn’t all awful.” Dabi says, almost jokingly. He strolls over to the sink so he can adjust his turtleneck collar in the mirror.

Hawks ignores the comment. “I can say with confidence that I will never be wearing roller skates again after today.”

“I dunno. After blowing you on wheels…maybe I have a weird shitty kink for skates now. You’d need to put them on again so I can be sure.” Dabi says, watching Hawks riffle through his bag behind him through the mirror. He runs long fingers through his jet-black locks, refocusing his eyes on himself as he tries to flatten his sex hair.

“Cumming makes you chatty, does it?” Hawks bites back, grinning despite himself. He’s thrilled to see all of his clothes and equipment in the bag where he left them. He makes a mental note to sweep the bag for tracking equipment later before he arrives back home. He does an initial check – patting his hands along the bottom of the bag and around the zippers.

“Don’t think this changes anything between us.” Dabi says suddenly, almost harshly, as he turns the sink faucet and begins to splash cold water on his pale, aristocratic cheeks.

“How do you mean?” Hawks turns to look at him over his shoulder.

“I know how you hero types work. You probably think now that we’ve fucked we’re in love and you can change me and bring me over to the side of the light.” Dabi chuckles and crosses his arms across his chest. “That is definitely not happening.”

“You are so damn full of yourself.” Hawks snorts, turning back to the bag so he can pull out his precious designer sweatpants. He unfolds the soft, decadent material carefully and rises to his feet so he can pull them on. He discards the slutty photo shoot shorts, tossing them over Dabi’s shoulder and into the garbage can by the sink. He stands naked for a moment, grinning when he sees Dabi’s eyes dance across his body from their reflection in the mirror. He sticks a foot into the pant leg and starts to pull them on. “You’re well beyond saving.”

Dabi grins appreciatively at him through the mirror. “Don’t I know it.”

“And I promise not to fall in love with your sorry ass.” Hawks pulls on his soft expensive t-shirt. He doesn’t miss the way that Dabi’s eyes drink in one last glance at his abs and chest as he pulls the fabric down over his stomach. “But maybe…”

“Hm?”

Hawks feels his cheeks burn red with heat as he adjusts his shirt to fit more comfortably around his wings.

“Maybe we can call a temporary truce whenever we want to…hook up.” He coughs out the last words.

“Bold of you to assume I’d sleep with you again.” Dabi sneers, but his mouth is tilted up in the tiniest of grins.

“I’m sorry…” Hawks says boldly as he fishes his specialty headphones out of the duffle and hangs them around his neck. “…Did I not just give you the best head of your life? I assumed you’d want a follow up. Or better yet…” Hawks grabs his socks and sneakers and starts pulling them on as he avoids Dabi’s gaze. “I bet you’d jump at the chance to feel my cock inside you.”

“And just what makes you think I’d let you top me?” Dabi spits out, sounding insulted.

Hawks shrugs indifferently. “I’ll bottom. I don’t particularly care when it comes to things like that. Either way, I’m a great lay. Ha! That rhymed.” Hawks says, finally fully clothed. Admittedly, the orgasm was a good full system reset. He feels loose and relaxed for the first time all day. He rolls out his shoulders and stretches, letting his shirt creep up his toned stomach to give Dabi once last thing to look at.

“I bet we’d have really good bed chem.” Hawks says with a cheeky wink, catching Dabi’s bright aqua eyes.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dabi narrows his eyes in a glare, thinking Hawks is making fun of him somehow.

“Its, uh, a song by Sabrina Carpenter.” Hawks rattles off. He didn’t realize that Dabi was so out of touch with pop culture, but given that the villain has been on the run for the better part of the last few years it kind of makes sense that he wouldn’t be up to date on the latest in pop music. “It means we’d have good chemistry in bed.”

“I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. Jesus Christ you’re annoying.” Dabi rolls his eyes and grabs a paper towel to wipe off his damp face and arms.

“Listen, ya big baby. What I’m saying is that I’d be up for sleeping together again. Don’t think too much into it.” Hawks rolls his eyes and pulls his hoodie out of his bag before zipping the duffle closed.

“Huh. Alright. Maybe.” Dabi says noncommittally. “I’ll be at PLF HQ next week. If I see you there…well we can figure it out then.” Without even a backward glance at the now fully clothed Hawks, he turns to unlock the door and leave.

“Dabi – hold on.” Hawks grabs him by the wrist and yanks him backwards and away from the door.

“What.” Dabi looks pissed for some reason, but he turns around just in time for Hawks to plant a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on his lips. It’s quick and kind of gross, but it’s also warm.

“That’s it. See you on the flip side, villain.” Hawks turns on his heel and goes to gather up his bag and the ridiculous ruby red roller skates. Dabi can’t help but stare at the hero’s plump ass as he bends over to collect the skates. He quickly gets ahold of himself and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He slowly opens the bathroom door and disappears into the crowded roller rink set.

Hawks takes a minute to gather his things and finally splash some cold water on his face. His body is buzzing and electric, but in a nice way this time. He’s wearing shoes without wheels. He’s got his plush, comfy clothes on. His headphones are in place should he need them. …And then there’s the fact that he just had the hottest sex of his life with a fucking villain in a neon green roller rink rest room.

After a few minutes of preening at his hair and outfit, he emerges from the bathroom and out into the chaos of the post-photo shoot set. Less time has passed than he realized – the crew is still cleaning up, many of them taking a snack break at the craft services table.

The art director’s assistant waves to him as he exits the small bathroom.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere! The costuming department doesn’t have your stuff so we’re going to lend – oh! You found your clothes.” She looks relieved. The PA Hawks had sent off earlier in search of his duffle is nowhere to be seen.

“Yeah, I guess I just misplaced it in the bathroom while getting ready! Silly me!” Hawks plays off, turning up his beloved hero charm. “But I wasn’t sure where to put these.” He holds up the pair of shiny red skates with one hand. “Can you get them back to wardrobe for me?”

“Oh! The art director said you can keep them – they’re a gift.” The assistant says, smiling warmly.

“Oh, thanks.” Hawks glances down at the skates unhappily.

“We’re done for the day – you’re good to leave! But we’d love for you to stay for the crew after party.” The woman looks up at him through her lashes, blushing as she implores him to stay.

“Aw, thanks I’d really love to – but I’ve got an early morning patrol.” Hawks says apologetically, covering his mouth a bit with his hand as he lies through his teeth. “Thanks for everything, though. Really. Excited to see the final photos!” And with that he turns on his heel and boogies his way out of the roller rink. He waves gratefully to the models and crewmembers as he speed walks towards the exit. As he goes, he unzips his bag and tosses the offensive skates inside.

The minute his feet hit the pavement outside, he propels himself high into the air. His wings unfurl and relief flows through him as he takes in the feeling of being free in the wide, endless sky. He breathes in deeply, reveling in the expansive silence. He wings his way towards home, his mind lingering on thoughts of Dabi – his hands, his body, and his mouth.

He ditches his designer bag in a trashcan a few blocks away from his apartment (yes, Dabi did in fact have it bugged with a tiny tracker). He enters his loft apartment carrying nothing but his keys the bright red skates. He discards both in the entryway, tucking in his wings and shedding his clothes as he makes a beeline for his luxurious shower.

Minutes later he’s finally, blissfully, standing beneath a hot stream of water. He closes his eyes and sighs gratefully as he lathers his wings up with expensive oil, and his thoughts wander back to Dabi.

Where is Dabi sleeping tonight? Is it warm enough? Is he taking a nice, long shower after the days events? Has he been fed? Does he have a soft bed and change of clothes waiting for him at the Paranormal Liberation Front’s headquarters?

These thoughts linger with him as he towels off, chomps away at a TV dinner, and eventually tucks himself into bed. He sprawls out across the king sized mattress, his wings splayed out comfortably behind him as he stares up at the ceiling. For the first time he notices how empty the bed feels with just him in it. Alone with his thoughts, he dares to let his mind wander. He wonders if Dabi would like sharing a bed? Would he find it comfortable to be folded up into the warm plush blankets, maybe with one of Hawks’ wings draped over him like a quilt? Would he pretend to hate the closeness, but allow himself to be cuddled anyway? Would he let Hawks kiss him slow and deep until they fell asleep?

He shuts off his light and stares up into the darkness, wondering. Maybe even wishing a little.

“I bet we’d have good bed chem.” He mutters to himself, a small smile pulling at his lips as his brain supplies Dabi’s likely response – an eye roll accompanied with a gravely “You’re an idiot.”

Yeah, he really is, isn’t he?

Hawks folds away his dreaming, aching heart and wills himself to go to sleep. There’s work to be done with the Commission. Plans to be carried out. In a world on the brink of quirk-fueled civil war, there’s no room for romance with a villain. And so, there’s no room for Dabi.

His eyes flutter shut and his breathing evens out. He falls into a deep, comfortable sleep. But his dreams are permeated with flashes of a patchwork face, bright aqua eyes, a brilliant toothy smile, and an arrogant laugh.

You can’t help the things your heart longs for.

End.

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

OMG!!! Let me know what you think! I've been wanting to write a full DabiHawks fic forever! I hope you all enjoyed!

XOXO,

RedRiotUnbreakableHeart ❤️

P.S. Want to read more of my smutty fluffy fics!? Here's the link to 🔥My Masterlist.🔥

Stay safe out there, y'all!

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allywthsr · 1 year ago

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WRAPPING HIS PRESENTS | (l.norris)

summary: you wrap Lando’s presents

wordcount: 1.1k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: like two sexual things, but nothing graphic

notes: what are we thinking?

advent calendar

You sat on the floor in the living room, Lando was currently in the gym, training for the next two hours. It was time to wrap his presents, the rest of the presents, for the other people of your family, were already wrapped and stored away in a closet in the guest room. Now the only things that were missing, were his presents, in front of you laid multiple things you bought for Lando, grabbing the red wrapping paper with little Santa’s and reindeer on it. You took the scissors and cut off a piece of the paper, grabbing the first present, a new hoodie from his favorite brand. You saw him check it out online and you could not not buy it for him, he almost bought it himself, but you could convince him, that you shouldn’t buy yourself things right before Christmas, so he didn’t.

Closing the wrapping paper with a few strips of tape, you took a sticker where you could write his name on it, and wrote ‘Lan’ in your best handwriting, even adding a small bow you bought in a little corner shop.

The next present was a bit more cheesy, it was a keyring for his keychain, made out of glass with his favorite picture of you two put in there, you knew he loved small things like that. It was small, but it meant something to him, and that’s most important.

You grabbed a different wrapping paper, now you had a dark blue one in your hand, and it was covered with golden stars. You didn’t want to go too overboard with his presents, but you knew he would, so you tried to give him something back, even tho you knew you didn’t have to. He was happy if you would give him a kiss on Christmas morning, but you weren’t satisfied with that, you tried to go bigger every year.

The next present was a small silly thing you found on Amazon while checking out, it was a scratch-off movie poster. The two of you could never decide what movie to watch, sometimes the planned movie night ended after one hour because you couldn’t find something to watch, either one of you has seen a film and the other hasn’t, or the genre wasn’t the right one, sometimes you just didn’t find one that fits in the mood and sometimes you couldn’t decide on one, because there are so many movies, you’ve watched together and all the good films have been watched by you two a hundred times. With that scratch-off poster, that problem would be solved and evenings that would be filled with looking through the whole Netflix catalog, while the other was also searching through different movie platforms, would be at least be over for a hundred days. He could just scratch off the material and each movie night, you wouldn’t have this discussion that annoyed both of you.

You, again, cut out a piece of paper and wrapped it around the rolled-up poster, sticking the sticker on it, and writing his name on it.

The next present was a silly present you found in a store, it was a small retro arcade machine, and he loved arcade games. It was a miniature arcade machine that he could take with him wherever he went if he was bored before a race. He would definitely play with it. It had games like Super Mario or Flappy Bird on it, perfect for Lando’s interest, he loved these old games he used to play as a kid. You put the batteries in the slot and wrapped the dark blue wrapping paper around it, closing it off with a few stripes of tape, writing his name on the sticker, and placing a bow on top of it as well, you bought a few bows in a dollar store, that would stick to the present without having to make the bow.

You went all out for presents this year, but you bought most of them on Black Friday, so the hundred and fifty pounds hoodie only cost ninety pounds, what a steal.

The next gift was more a fun gift than an actual useful gift, it was an indoor putting green, the long stripe of fake grass had a slight bend towards the end, so it wasn’t just a straight line that he had to play. He always told you that he hated it, when it rained and he wasn’t able to go golfing, he wanted to buy himself a putting green for the inside for a while now, yet, he never did. Lando could practice his putting skills and his swings, he would love it, it would annoy you for a few weeks, he sure would only do that for some days, but that’s fine. You took another roll of wrapping paper and cut off a piece, wrapping the edges around the box, sealing it with some tape, and sticking the sticker with his name on it.

The main present was a self-made one, a jar filled with three-hundred sixty-five little notes. He can pick one note every day for the next year, on the notes were little compliments, funny sayings, dirty talking, and declarations of love.

You worked on this for multiple days, cutting out three-hundred sixty-five colorful papers, was a task, that took you three days alone. Writing all the notes on the paper took you like a week and a half, it might sound like a lot, but you had to think about three-hundred sixty-five notes and write them on a small piece of paper while Lando does not notice you doing it. And since the winter break started, he was mostly home, so you had to do it when he was training or playing Fortnite or something.

Some examples of the notes are

⁃ thank you for you

⁃ I love you

⁃ I‘m glad my boyfriend has a big cock

⁃ I hope you have a good day

⁃ Thank you for every orgasm

It might be cheesy, but Lando and you are that couple that leaves little sticky notes around the house to make the other happy, the present was basically like the sticky notes but without sticking it somewhere.

You closed the lid from the jar and cut off a big piece of wrapping paper, wrapping it around the glass and closing the paper with tape, and sticking his name on top with it, just like a big bow.

You looked at the presents in front of you, you couldn’t wait for him to open all of them, you were sure he would be happy about every single one.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #formula 1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando norris one shot #lando imagine #christmas #presents

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19calicos · 7 months ago

Text

i know where to look – kuroo tetsurō ˎˊ˗

✶⋆.˚ chapter eleven: a hundred not-dates ( 𖦹 )

currently playing: amtrak by los retros

word count: 722

cw: cigarettes, language, a “did he die” joke, gun mention in a joke

almost every night has looked like this since community day: midnight-to-two skating at the park, a small selection of snacks and drinks from the corner store, a conversation with fingers that always linger when passing the shared cigarette, and now, their head on kuroo’s shoulder when they let themselves slip a bit.

they might just rip their heart out of their chest and run it over with their board at full speed at this point, or something like that – anything to get rid of the blush in their cheeks and the rose-colored butterflies in their stomach.

or maybe they should just get over themselves and their fears and tell kuroo they like him too, and put a decisive end to their inner turmoil. their chest goes taut every time they consider that solution though, so they always end up burying that idea back in whatever hole it came from.

under the lights of the skate park, they can see the circles under kuroo’s eyes clearly. they’d been stealing his sleep lately by convincing him to come out with them for late night skate sessions. and they know they should stop really, because he’s not meant to have dark circles that match theirs, but the look kuroo has when he’s skating during these hours makes them go quiet with fondness, makes them want to give him everything that could ever make him smile.

and it's a nice feeling, how they always end up sitting on the edge on top of one of the pipes close together. kuroo's legs dangling, their legs hugged to their chest, his arm slung around their shoulders, the cigarette between their lips.

tonight, their heart is a rare winner when they mindlessly reach up to kuroo's hand that hung from their shoulder and loosely lace their fingers with his. they hear his breath hitch at it, and that's when they come to from their dreamy daze and realize their hand has a mind of its own.

so they begin to shift around, scared of clearly breaking the boundaries that have already blurred between them and kuroo, raising their head off his shoulder and stretching their legs to stand up. "it's two. let's go home," they whisper, starting to pull their hand away.

but kuroo is feeling different tonight, less restrained with his feelings, and doesn't unlace their fingers just yet, instead dipping his head and resting it in the crook of their neck. "just a few minutes," he sleepily mumbles.

now their breath gets caught in their throat at the rasp in his voice, his newfound clinginess doing a number on them. "just this once," they relent, then breath out the smallest of smiles.

kuroo's hair looks soft, and it's taking everything in them not to run their fingers through it. his expression is full of bliss, and there's something about the way that he just fits in them so well that makes their heart swell. he's warm and smells like fresh laundry, and when they look at him and his lashes and his lips and the curve of his nose and the way his hair falls over his eyes and his fingers and theirs together, they feel their heart tug.

more than tug, really — they think this might be it for them. they just might have a heart attack.

kuroo is so good to them that they can’t wrap their head around it, the way he loves them so sweetly. it scares them, how he has such a big heart and loves them so easily.

it’s just that nothing lasts forever, especially the soft look in kuroo’s eyes as he watches them leave his touch and grab their skateboard.

they tell themselves that their plan of losing feelings for him is for the best, that he's better off with someone else who could love him back that way.

but the feeling of being loved by kuroo lingers like the cigarette smoke in their jacket, and no matter what they do, they can't quite get rid of him from their heart. it's selfish of them, they think, to keep kuroo to them like this instead of let him go.

so just for tonight, when they slip their hand back in his on the skate home, they let themselves believe that a forever with kuroo could be real.

prev | masterlist | next

⟢ messy filler-ish chapter because i lost my mind trying to keep the pacing & also write something decent so i can get to the next two chapters

⟢ yn did not mean to tweet their post-cry clarity tweet on the main but it got them more followers and they're too tired to gaf

⟢ suna knew yn would come around eventually and talk cry to him about everything. it's happened before when they were still in high school, and he was usually the only person who knew. the rest of the gc is still in the dark

⟢ he also knows its serious when yn calls him rin instead of sunarin

⟢ yn fell asleep after but they were like laying on top of suna so he couldn't move. he gave up and just went to sleep too

⟢ i'll add more fun facts/context later <3 ty for sticking around mwah

taglist (38/50): @eggyrocks @whorefornoodles @sereniteav @bedeater @itsdragonius @spicana @localgaytrainwreck @sunafc @scinclaitnoir @staygoldsquatchling02 @rrosiitas @yuminako @zahrawr-likes-red @walllflowerrrsss @unwindwithme @mfcherry @giocriedpower @ahdbodhr @hyenagoated @loveelylacey @chososcamgirl @iheartpinky @piapiaweee3 @azuremyst99 @csbnova @tired-jaz @samuel1004 @kennedy-brooke @wyrcan @arustydoll @illuzminate @juie13 @01trickster10 @thatonecroc @theycallmenanamisgirl @nobodybutnnoorr @gsyche @walkingcorpse03

reply/send an ask to be added!

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu smau #kuroo tetsurou smau #hq smau #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro smau #kuroo tetsurō x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou #hq!! x reader #hq #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsurō smau

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rendy-a · 9 months ago

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Hi! Apologies if this request is too vague or specific but can I request a fic of Jack Howl x reader who’s a night owl kind of person and is much shorter than him, thank you!

Thanks for requesting. I don't get a lot of asks for Jack, so its a nice exercise to write something for him. I hope I captured him correctly.

‘Crazy,’ Jack thinks for the hundredth time after befriending the strange Prefect of Ramshackle dorm. You can see this thought pass through his face, but it only makes you laugh more. “Come on, you know you’ll enjoy it.” Jack sighs, “Why can’t you ever pick anything to do that occurs during a normal person’s day?” You lift your hand high to pat your tall friend on the shoulder and laugh, “I’ll convert you eventually,” and chuckle at the resulting scoff.

It is said that opposites attract, and nothing could be more fitting to describe the closeness that has developed between you and Jack. You were short and he was tall. You were always laughing, and he was so serious. The point that seemed to cause you the most contention was that you lived for the late evening hours when the darkness crept in and the sky awoke with stars. You loved the way the insects would sing in the night and the dampness of the coming dew that settled over everything. Jack, on the other hand, went to bed early and woke up at some god-awful hour in the morning. He would tell you any time you brought it up why he liked it, but you just didn’t see it. Noisy birds chirping? Bright and garish sunrises? Having the whole campus to yourself for a jog? What was the charm in that? So, you’d taken it upon yourself to show him the beauty of the night whenever you could. You’d change his mind eventually or at least have fun trying!

“Tell me again why we can’t just watch these movies on the weekend?” Jack asks with a hint of annoyance in his voice. You grab his arm and lay your head pleadingly on his bicep, “Awe, come on! Late night movie marathons are the best!” When you see him turn away as though he can’t meet your eye, you know you almost have him. Time for your most convincing argument. “Please, please, please, please, please!!!” Jack sighs with a huff and gives in to your demand but makes you promise to at least have something healthy for a snack. “Ok, fine,” you offer conceding, “I’ll even prove my commitment to healthy snacks by asking Vil for some suggestions.” Jack thanks you for going so far out of your way for him and gives you an approving pat on the head. Finally, your late-night horror fest with your best pal Jack is a go! And you got a head pat; way to go you!

You were halfway through Horror from the Deep when you could feel the sleepiness creep up. Jack had fallen asleep twice, for which you teased him relentlessly, and so you were determined to make it through the entire retro horror movie marathon without missing a second. “Should we call it a day?” asked Jack with a raised eyebrow. You force your fluttering eyes to full-open and ask, “What? Why?” as though you didn’t know the answer. He huffs at your ridiculous defiance and remarks, “You’re no better than my kid brother at admitting when you are tired.” You frown, “So what, I’m like your sibling now?” Jack seems disturbed by this suggestion and lowers his ears as he stammers an apology. Well, this was awkward now. You turn your attention back to the movie, forcing yourself to focus on that instead of the warm (and firm) arm you are leaning against. Just like friends. Only friends.

By the time the monster emerges onto the beach, you are sleeping deeply while pulling Jack’s arm into a hug. He gives a half-hearted tug before deciding to abandon the effort and leans to rest his head on top of your own. Sleeping like this won’t be so bad. But only because he has too, not because he’s been dreaming about this. No, certainly you didn’t have a friendship like that. Of course not.

In the deep hours of the night, when you’re not quite sure if you should refer to it as night or morning, you awaken. Your sleepy noises bring Jack to alertness before you can really take in how close you were. You sigh and look at your movie partner bashfully, “Guess we will have to rewatch that one later, huh?” Jack gives you a smug smile in response and suddenly you are laughing together. There is a strange magic to the twilight and perhaps that is why Jack suddenly asks, “Walk me home?” You smile at him, glad to have an excuse to drag this time out, “Sure.”

You walk side by side in the misty fog that rolls off the grass during the pre-morning hours. The effect was mysterious, like the setting of those late-night horror movies you’d watched. You decided that you liked it. You lean toward your companion to share your insight, “See Jack, this is exactly the sort of reason I love the night so much.” Jack gives you a bit of side-eye and dryly remarks, “That fog is there because its nearly morning.” You are startled by his comment, “Wait, what?” Looking around, you realize he is right, it has grown so late that it was nearly morning. The stars still gleamed in the sky, but you couldn’t deny the hint of brightness that was creeping from the horizon and the music of insects was slowly intermixing with the earliest of bird calls.

You look around, taking in the atmosphere of the hour, “So this is the death of night, huh?” Jack scoffs, “So dramatic.” You smile, secretly pleased at getting such a response from him. “Is it always this…fresh smelling?” you ask him pensively. He takes a deep breath and lets out the most satisfying exhale, “Yeah, it is.” You continue watching him with a smile, “I kind of like it.” Jack’s ears twitch as though thinking something over, “Yeah but sometimes it’s too bright. This is nice too, easy on the eyes.” You give his arm a tap with your elbow, as though to let him know you’d noticed what he did there. Jack was always fast to reconcile with you when you argued, especially if you admitted you understood his side.

You execute a little hop step and remark, “We should get moving, I don’t want to get any of your morning cooties on me.” Then you set off in a mild run, laughing as you go. Jack quickly catches up to you with a smirk, as though to remind you here is a far better runner than you. You don’t mind, in fact, this is nice. You reach out and grab his hand, pulling him along after you. You feel him squeeze your hand but aren’t brave enough to look back and see what expression might be on his face. You didn’t really need to though. You went together like morning and night. They were both great apart but when you combined them, like fog rolling off the grass, it was magic.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader

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pedroshotwifey · 7 months ago

Note

So, yeah, ummm.. hello. I'm not sure how to explain what I'd like to request cause I'm a bit shy and whatever, but I kinda have this need... Bought a skirt the other week, retro, midi, lots of volume, high-waist, a dream! Got so many compliments and I was always a DUFF and I felt confident for like 3 seconds...And then I thought, imagine Javi seeing you in that skirt for the first time, like at a work party or whatever and fucks you while you're wearing that skirt while everyone else is in another room. Like, IMAGINE, how that skirt would bunch up around the waist, and ooof

Long request made short: Why yes, a shy, innocent person here who was never hit on by men that wants to have chair sex with Javi in some janitors closet or whatever.

Is this too much? Feel like it's too much but anyway...18 from prompt list 4.

Bye.

Hey, babe, so sorry this took a while! I actually started working on it a couple of months ago and just got stuck 😅 Anyways, I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted! (Our girl ended up getting fucked over Javi's desk, but hopefully the smut will make up for that oversight on my behalf. If not, I'll gladly write something else for you ♥)

Pairing: Javier Peña x coworker!fem!reader

Tags/warnings: smut, unprotected PIV sex, mentions of fingering, Javi's huge dick™, semi-public sex, anon's skirt™, self-deprecating thoughts, but javi fixes that right up, dirty talk, getting caught (kind of), pet names (baby, hermosa, etc.), stuff I'm probably forgetting

W/C: 2.7k

Summary: You start thinking down on yourself---luckily, Javi's there to lift you back up. Nothing some praise and a good fuck in his office can't fix.

Mini Skirt

You glance at the clock on the wall from where you’ve been perched on your desk, watching the office mingle. You’ve only been at this party for an hour and you’re already getting the urge to leave. You’d thought it was such a good idea at first, but now you just think you’re an idiot. It was all because of that damn skirt. You sigh and glance down at it. Yeah, that’s why.

It’s fucking gorgeous, you’re not even going to lie. Retro, short as hell, high waisted, fluffed with luscious volume, and the perfect fit. You’d only worn it once before this, but that was before you’d moved and gotten a job with the Colombian DEA. It had given you a boost of confidence unlike any you’d had before, and had gotten you an absurd amount of compliments. Hell, you’d been confident coming in here with it on.

Now you’re thinking that may have had something to do with the fact that you’d known those people for much longer. Or maybe you’re completely delusional, and the skirt really just isn’t that cute. Not on you, at least. Not a single person has approached you yet. It’s a little humiliating if you’re being honest. You’d waved to Steve when you came in with the intention to talk—and probably ask about where you could find his gorgeous partner you’ve been harboring a crush on since you got here—but he pretty much blew you off.

It had stung a little bit, but you’d shaken it off and kept going in hopes that someone else would pull you into their conversation. How wrong you were to think that. Everyone has ignored you so far. You’re not sure what you did wrong. Maybe people just don’t like you. That realization hurt like a bitch. You thought these people were your friends by the way they’ve acted toward you during weekdays

You only realize your eyes are tearing up when you look up at the clock again and find it blurry. That’s it. You’re out of here. You’ve learned your lesson. You hop off the desk and start making your way to the door, your face heating as self-deprecating thoughts race through your head a million miles a minute. You don’t look at Javi’s office as you pass it just in case he’s in there. Out of everyone here, you don’t want him to see you like this. You’re not dumb, you know the relationship the two of you have is bordering on flirtatious, but this is far too vulnerable of a state for you to be in to be around him right now.

Yet you still stop when you hear his voice calling your name as you’re pushing the door open. It’s a bodily reaction for you to halt and start to turn. Of course he would spot you the one time you’re wishing he wouldn’t. You turn all the way, watching him as you try to hold your tears in. Hopefully you can play this off right and be on your way.

“Yes?” you ask. You hear the waver in it, and you can tell Javi does too by the wince he tries to hide.

“Where are you going?”

You’re almost taken aback. Why does he care?

“Home,” you say, about to turn and reach for the door again.

“But you’ve only been here for a little while.” You watch as his eyes drop down your body, slowly taking you in. He licks his lips when they land on your skirt, and it makes you squirm.

“You look good,” he tells you, his gaze back on yours. His voice is raspier than it was a minute ago. It makes you weak in the knees, if you’re being honest.

“Thank you.” It’s a quiet sound. Your cheeks feel hot.

“Why are you leaving, carino? Is everything okay?”

You have to focus hard on holding back tears, as well as embarrassment now. Do you really want to tell him what’s bothering you?

“Everybody’s been ignoring me since I got here,” you blurt before you can stop it. Javi takes a step forward, sympathy flashing in his warm brown eyes for a moment before giving you one more once-over.

“In that outfit?” he asks. “On top of being the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of, that’s a damn shame.”

You look down towards the floor, though a smile starts to tug at your lips.

“Why don’t you come back in for a while.” His gaze darkens. “My office, maybe?”

Your mouth feels like cotton as you gravitate toward him. Your hand falls into his and you allow him to lead you back into his office as his mouth comes down by your ear. “What are you gonna do, Javi?” you ask, lust clear in your question.

“Someone needs to ravish you in that fucking skirt before you leave,” he whispers, making you shiver. “And I know nobody else has the balls to bend you over their desk like I’m about to do.”

Your head snaps to look at his smirk. Your eyes are wide, your lips parted with both shock and desire. He chuckles slightly and glances around before stepping into the office with you at his side. You’re dreaming—you’ve got to be dreaming. But the way his hand slips around your waist feels too real.

“And after that, I’m gonna go out there and try to understand what the hell could have been blinding all those people to not want to talk to you.”

You’re stunned, yet you keep your eyes on him as he shuts and locks the door behind him. Everything is happening so quickly, but you’d be damned if you tried to delay or stop it.

You’re the one to meet his lips as soon as he turns your way, backing him towards the door as he hungrily reciprocates. His big hands travel down to your skirt, smoothing down the fabric to cradle the flesh of your ass. He’s dangerously close to the heat brewing between your thighs, to the wetness you know is beginning to seep through the seat of your panties.

But all you can focus on is how intoxicating his tongue mingling with yours is, the plushness of his lips against yours. He tastes faintly like whiskey and cigarettes, just as you would have guessed, but somehow better.

You moan against him as he squeezes your ass, bringing you flush to him so you can feel his erection against your abdomen. You groan against his lips upon feeling it, your mouth dropping open for a second in surprise.

“Oh, god, Javi,” you moan. “Please, I need you,” you beg, one of your hands trailing down to gently brush over his covered cock.

“Shit, baby, alright, I’ve got you.” He starts walking you back, keeping his lips on you until the backs of your thighs hit his desk. As soon as he feels the resistance, he pulls away just enough for you to start to protest, but you quickly stop when he grabs your hips and spins you around to face the desk. His open palm pushes firmly but gently on your back until your chest is flush to the top of it.

Just the action in itself makes you moan, so when he flips your skirt up and pulls your panties down to your ankles within the next second, your skirt bunching around your hips, you nearly lose it. “I know, hermosa, I know.” His hand makes it way down to your cunt.

You swear he growls as he strokes you gently, just barely teasing you. “Dios mío,” he mutters. “Fuckin’ soaked for me, gorgeous.”

“Thought about this a lot,” you breathe. “Thought about your fingers, your cock.”

Javi groans behind you.

“Gonne be the fuckin’ death of me, sweet girl.”

“Please, Javi,” you beg again, not sure for what at this point. Something. Anything.

This time, he puts more pressure on your folds, parting you and letting your wetness smear obscenely on his fingers. You moan as he starts to rub up and down again, teasing your clit with every stroke.

“Yeah, you want to take my fat cock, hermosa?”

“Yes, Javi, please!” You sound borderline whiny as you push yourself back into him, trying to entice him into giving you a few fingers.

“Okay, baby, come for me first. Need you ready.”

You nod, and his fingers move to pay attention directly to your clit, starting to rub tight and fast circles. You can already feel the tension within you rising, getting you close to the edge faster than you previously thought was possible. So when he takes a step forward, pushing his clothed crotch into your ass, and his fingers get harder and faster against you, you fall apart.

Heat races through you as you arch your back, moaning his name too loud, which prompts him to cover your mouth with his free palm. You settle against it, aftershocks making you shiver as he helps you through your orgasm.

He removes his hands from you, and you barely have time to settle down before you hear the clinking of his belt being undone, and then the broad tip of his cock nestled at your entrance.

“You ready, angel?”

Out of breath, you frantically nod your head, your cheek pressed to the desk as you watch him.

He chuckles lightly at your enthusiasm. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Javi, please fuck me with your big cock,” you plead.

You Think you hear him mutter something along the lines of “good girl”, as he pushes himself into you, your walls splitting around him. Your mouth drops open, your hands sliding across the desk as you try to grip on to something. Javi holds your hips firmly as he slowly feeds you every inch.

“God dammit, baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” Javi grits through his teeth.

He waits until he’s fully seated, and then rubs a hand gently up and down your back, soothing you as you adjust to him. He’s so big—long and thick. You think you can feel him in your lungs. But you only wait a few moments before pushing back to him, his cock nudging your g-spot as you signal for him to move.

Your toes curl when he pulls out the first time, leaving just the tip before smoothly sliding back in. There’s a lewd squelching sound when his pelvis meets your ass, and it only spurs you on. You clench around him, more turned on than you’ve ever been in your life.

The friction as he builds up a steady pace is absolutely heavenly, his dick dragging deliciously against your soaked walls with each thrust. He’s stretching you out so nice, making room so he can fuck you good and fast. It’s by impulse that you reach one of your hands down between your legs, not to play with your clit, but you spread your fingers and feel the way he’s shoving himself in.

The soft, wet skin of his cock skims the skin between your fingers, making both of you moan.

“You like that, huh, honey? Like the way I stretch you out so good?”

“Yes, Javi,” you keen. “S’ good.” At this point, you’re slurring your speech, growing delirious with every press of his tip to your cervix. It’s a gentle punch, giving you the perfect amount of stimulation to have your second orgasm building. It’s an overwhelmingly addictive feeling, the heat bubbling within you, the way your muscles tense up and make you shake.

Your mind can only focus on the steady build up, the way his pace gets faster and more frantic with every second, the way his grip tightens on your hips and he lets little grunts slip from his lips. You almost wish you could be turned around so you could kiss him again, hungry and desperate to convey everything you’re feeling right now.

But even if you did have that option, you probably wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up with the way he’s making your legs feel like jello—absolutely useless at this point. Your head is starting to get dizzy again. You swear you grow wetter as you get closer to coming.

It happens so suddenly, the words don’t make it to your tongue before you’re gushing around Javi, a silent scream falling from you. It’s intense and long. You only realize your ears have been ringing once they stop and Javi’s praise hits them instead.

“Oh, fuck! Just like that, baby.”

“Shit, I’m gonna come, where do you want me?” His words are as sloppy and rushed as his thrusts.

“In-Inside,” you blurt, using what little strength you have you reach the hand that had been on your cunt earlier to hold on to his hand still on your hip.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts before thrusting a few more times and then stilling within you, burrying himself deep and holding you flush to him. He bends down over you, groaning into your ear as his cum paints your walls.

When he’s finished, he slowly stands back up, pulling himself out of you. His seed drips out, falling down your thighs and pussy. You’re a bit jealous that Javi can see it and you can’t. He stands there, just admiring for an extra second, before helping you up as well. You watch as he opens a drawer on his desk and pulls out a spare tie. He gives you no time to protest before he starts to wipe your spent cunt with it.

You study him as he crouches down and cleans you the best he can, admiring his eyes, nose, lips, his sweaty brow and the way his soft curls cling to it. When he’s done, he stands back up, pulling your panties into place. He kisses you again, slower this time, savoring the moment.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. You both look at each other with panicked expressions, which only worsen as a set of keys begin to jingle as whoever it is unlocks the door. Javi barely has time to fix his pants and shove you half-way behind him before Steve’s stepping in like he owns the place. His eyes widen when he looks up, immediately clocking what just went down in here.

“Shit, sorry, Javi, I thought you’d gone home—”

His eyes catch on you, apparently just realizing who is in here with him. You swear he almost smiles as visible relief floods his features.

“Fucking finally. You’ve been killing us.”

Speechless, you just gape at him. What is even going on right now? Javi says nothing either, probably more embarrassed than shocked, though, judging by the red hue crawling up his face when you take a glance at him. Apparently the two of you weren’t as discrete as you had thought.

“Whole office steered clear of the both of you in hopes this would happen and put us out of our misery tonight.”

Steve stays in the doorway, waiting for one of you to say something else. When you don’t, he raises his brows and retreats, calling out as he closes the door, “Also, I’m out twenty bucks now, so feel free to leave that on my desk at some point, Jav.”

The door shuts and the two of you slowly turn to look at each other. “Did you know they would do that?” You immediately ask.

Javi shrugs. “They’ve done it before, but I guess I didn’t think about it happening to us.”

“I thought people just didn’t like me, you asshole,” you throw out in a teasing tone. Javi raises his hands in defense.

“Hey, carino, I didn’t tell anybody to ignore you. That was all them.”

You shake your head. “Scared to get near me,” you mumble, chuckling slightly. “Bunch’a bullshit.”

Though you have to admit, it does feel a lot better knowing that the entire office doesn’t hate you. Obviously it’s not their first time playing collective matchmaker. A little harsh, but clearly effective.

Javi winks at you, as if reading your thoughts. “Alright, baby, let’s get you cleaned up and out in the office to mingle. I think you’re owed more than a few apologies by now.”

You snort and take a step back from him. “After what just happened,” you say, “I think I’m gonna call it even.”

**********

Want to request your own fic or read more like this? Try this link!

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sukisheadlights · 1 year ago

Text

MAKE ME STAY!

landonorris x famous!oc

summary: where she sends the Internet into a slow spiral after releasing a song out of the blue (except it’s not out of the blue, it’s papaya)

part 1: make me stay, series masterlist

faceclaim: dua lipa 🫶

rory’s voice mail 🎧: PART 1! hope you guys like this, it’s obviously going to be a slow burn but I’m really excited to write it for y’all <3 ALSO the first two chapters are gonna be a little slow to set up the story and a strong base for it 😚 LOVE YOU SAY IT BACK

@TMZ • 2 hours ago

Exclusive: F1 phenom Lando Norris spotted leaving Las Vegas after-party with a mysterious redhead!

Rumors are swirling that F1 racing superstar Lando Norris may have found a new love interest in Las Vegas!

The 22-year-old McLaren driver was spotted leaving the after-party of the FIA Formula 1 Las Vegas Grand Prix with a gorgeous gal on his arm.

Our source spotted Lando and the mystery woman leaving together and said the pair appeared to be "flirty", as Lando "wrapped his arm around her" and they "walked off into the night."

@THEHOLLYWOODFIX • 2 hours ago

It looks like F1 driver Lando Norris is getting back into his dating game!

After breaking up with his long-term girlfriend last year, our favorite driver was seen leaving the Formula 1 Las Vegas after party with a mysterious red-haired woman dressed in a form-fitting black leather dress.

We're not sure if this is just a one night stand, or if Lando has his sights set on someone new. Either way, we wouldn't blame him - the Formula 1 Las Vegas parties are known for being a hot spot for celebrities and models alike!

liked by paisleysterling, zendaya, and 8,75,784,894 others

lizcolton miss me?

paisleysterling no girl gtfo of my house 🙄

lizcolton stfu you love me

paisleysterling god I hate you

lizownsme UH YES?!!?! THE RED HAIRR???? ITS GIVING NEW ERA 🫣

user654 the world is NOT READY for whatever lizzy is cooking rn

user849 literally buy me

taylorswift stunning as always!! ❤️

tittieswhere BOTH MY MOTHERS ARE HERE OMFGGG TAYLOR GET HER TO OPEN FOR YOU

lewishamilton pic creds to me, btw.

lizcolton he took the pictures, or whatever 🙄

user4 EXCUSE ME WTAF ARE YOU DOING HERE

user9 @user4 it’s giving “excuse me what the actual fuck are you doing in my house—”

isoldmysoultof1 WHAT WHAT WHAAAT

isoldmysoultof1 @f1wags NEW F1 WAG POSSIBLY?!!?!!

@TMZ • 45 mins ago

Pop Sensation Liz Colton is Back!

Liz, who's long been hailed as a retro-pop phenomenon and one of the biggest social media stars, has just announced her return to the spotlight after a two-year break! Liz had been absent from public life following her rough breakup with actor Jacob Elordi.

Now, the queen of pop has set the Internet ablaze with a photo of herself sporting a sleek new red do and rocking an all-leather look, accompanied by the caption 'miss me?' Fans are abuzz!

In addition, Colton has been recently spotted interacting comfortably with Formula One superstar Lewis Hamilton in her social media comment sections! Hamilton, who is a known celebrity himself, has even asked Colton to give more picture credits, making fans hope that she's ready to expand her network and step into the world of Formula 1.

Could this mean the start of a whole new era for Liz?

liked by paiselysterling, sabrinacarpenter, and 9,34,748,830 others

lizcolton the face of a person keeping secrets 🤐

comments disabled.

@TMZ • 1 min ago

BREAKING NEWS!

It looks like Jacob Elordi, the "Euphoria" heartthrob who recently broke up with longtime girlfriend Liz Colton, was caught in a compromising position.

Just months after Liz and Jacob decided to split, details have emerged that the Australian actor cheated on his girlfriend multiple times. While neither Liz nor Jacob have commented publicly on the situation, fans have been quick to blast the actor for his apparent indiscretions.

With a successful career and multiple projects in the works, it looks like Jacob's reputation is about to take a dip.

liked by alexademie, sydneysweeney, and 8,59,499,484 others

lizcolton kisses to my exes, out 8pm tonight 💋

paisleysterling ATE

paisleysterling first picture’s for someone special?? I KNOW YOU BITCH

liked by lizcolton

lizcoltonsslave MOTHER ISNT SINGLE ANYMORE!?

lizcolton @lizcoltonsslave single as HELL baby!! Y’all haven’t lost me yet dw 😚

lizcoltonsslave @lizcolton bye I’m about to go die in a hole now

lewishamilton roscoe is ready to stream

lizcolton @lewishamilton thanks ig 🤨

wagintraining @lewishamilton LEWIS LIZ OMG LIZ ARE YOU FRIENDS WITH THE DRIVERS!?

lizcolton @wagintraining no comments

coltonhq headphones are ready!! 🎧🤍

lizcolton @coltonhq love u admin 😭💋

lizismother18 oh this is gonna EAT

#make me stay #lando norris x reader #lando norris #formula 1 #formula 1 driver X reader #sukisheadlights #formula 1 imagine #lando norris imagine

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gaybananabread · 1 year ago

Note

How about Day 30 with Lee!Mystery Twins and Ler!Stan Twins (gravity falls) as a game of hide and seek! I think it’d be super cute!

TickleTober Day 30 - Caught

AAAAA I’M DONE WITH TICKLETOBER!! HAPPY HALLOWEEN! This was a fun way to cap off the event, tapping into my roots! I’m so tired, and it’s definitely gonna be nice to not write over 1k word fics daily. I absolutely adored the event though, it really challenged me as a writer! ANYways, sorry for blabbing on, and I hope everyone stays safe tonight and that you Enjoy!

Lees: Mabel, Dipper

Lers: Stan, Ford

Summary: The Pines family are having an "intense" game of Hide-and-Seek to determine who gets to decorate the Mystery Shack for Halloween. There's an interesting set of rules, with a ticklish twist for whoever gets caught.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

"Dipper, be quiet!"

Mabel whisper-shouted at her brother, sinking further into the pile of stuffed animals. It was the fiercest competition of the century, and she intended to win it.

What had her so determined, you ask? The annual Pines Hide-and-Seek Championship. Well, it was the first year they were doing it, but the technically-teen was going to make sure it carried on.

Downstairs, her Grunkles combed through the house, searching for their great-grand niece and nephew. The Grunkles had half an hour to find them. There was a twist the older men had added, just to make the game more fun. If caught, the kids would be tickled. They didn't really specify a time, figuring it would be best to play things by ear.

The mystery twins gave no argument. They were determined to win, though the sweater-loving girl was definitely taking things more seriously. For Mabel, that's saying something.

Mabel, being serious? What was so great that she would forgo her usual silliness? Well, something she greatly desired; the winner, whoever they may be, got to dictate the Halloween decorations for the whole Mystery Shack. As long as it was within the budget, anything went.

She was determined to make it the most sparkly, retro, in-your-face crazy Halloween party ever. That meant she had to win.

Stan rooted through cabinets, looked in couch cushions, even went as far as looking in the outskirts of the woods. He was putting off checking the attic, figuring the kids would be smarter than that. Mabel was always goofy, it wasn’t hard to think her hiding spot would be as well.

Using a gadget, Ford scanned the first floor of the Shack. It was supposed to detect the joy and wonder a child gave off, though he was pretty sure he calibrated something wrong. Still, he searched, hoping it would at least give him some edge. He didn’t want his home covered in glitter, or so scary that even the goat would have nightmares. If Dipper won…well, he wouldn’t actually mind that, but it was the principle of it.

Dipper was hiding up in the rafters, having used Mabel’s grappling hook to secure the spot. They hid together, figuring whoever got caught first could fend for themself. Mabel was rather proud of hers; it was simple enough that they probably wouldn’t look, yet small enough to where she could barely fit, to dissuade her Grunkles. It was pretty perfect.

After twenty minutes of fruitless searching, both old men went up the creaky attic stairs. The twins held their breath, knowing it would be moments before one of them was caught. The door opened, painfully slow, as the pair entered the make-shift bedroom. They could hear the end of Stan’s conversation as he peeked in the closet. “...it’s one of the only spots we haven’t checked, Sixer. One of them’s gotta be here.”

Ford entered a second later, checking under their beds. He was so close that Mabel went completely stiff, refusing to even blink before he stood up. “Those kids are good, I’ll give ‘em that. They’ve got your sneaky skills.” He got a pillow thrown at his head by a chuckling Stan. “Sure, sure. But they’ve got your smarts. I would’ve hid in a closet or somethin’.”

They were so nonchalant about the way they searched for the younger twins. It was like they thought it was a game. Well, everybody but Mabel thought it was.

Dipper looked at Stan, noticing how close he was getting to finding Mabel. He really didn't wanna be the first one caught, but he knew how badly his sister wanted to win. Sighing, he faked a cough, calling the attention of his Grunkles up. The things he did for her…

In seconds, two rough hands wrapped around his waist, yanking him down from his hiding place. “Gotcha!” Dipper barely had enough time to register that he was in Stan’s lap before five clawing fingers dug into his stomach. “G-GRUHUNKLE STAHAHAN!”

Ford chuckled, getting his fun in as well. He scribbled on and under the boy’s knees, all six digits doing something to get him laughing. It was unfairly ticklish. He almost regretted taking the L for Mabel. Almost.

“Hey Dippy, I got a deal for ya. If you tell us where your sister is, we’ll stop.” Oh, those cheaters! Mabel watched with wide eyes and Stan vibrated his clawing fingers into Dipper’s tum, keeping his arms above his head. She knew her brother had thrown his chance for her, but he still had to outlast the old men.

He wriggled and twisted in their arms, refusing to give in so easily; he wasn’t about to lose for nothing. “I- IHI CAHAHAN’T!” Ford snickered, squeezing his knees a bit more vigorously for emphasis. “Oh, but you can. Just say, ‘Oh, Mabel is hiding…’ and then you say it. It’s just that easy.”

So unfair… Dipper whined through his laughter, kicking as much as he could. Maybe a time limit on the tickles would have been a good idea… His Grunkles were obviously enjoying themselves, matching smirks on each of their faces. He didn’t hate it, per say, but it was much harder to stay sane when all three of them could see his reactions.

It was…actually really nice of him to do that for her. Mabel would have to let Dipper DJ for the party. Waddles might be a little upset, but she was sure her pink companion would prefer snack table duty.

Stan got a little impatient, deciding to be evil. He moved his bony fingers up to the boy’s armpit, digging into his hollows. Dipper let out a squeal that would put Waddles to shame. “NYAAAAHAHA! STAHAN! NOHO- *snrk* NOHOT THEHEHERE!”

Oooh, he went for Dipper’s bad spot. Mabel bit her lip as she watched her brother’s destruction: Ford teasing his knees while Stan went to town on his pits. She wouldn’t blame him if he gave her up, but dang it, she really wanted to win.

Right as Dipper was about to crack, the Nyan Cat theme song went off. Ford’s phone buzzed in his pocket, signaling that their half-hour was up. Mabel had won!

The girl sprung up from her mound of stuffed animals, startling both of her Grunkles. “HA! I won! Stan, go grab the basement key, I’m gonna make it rain glitter and gummy bears!”

Ford laughed, releasing Dipper’s legs as he watched his grand-niece celebrate. Stan sighed, setting the boy down on the carpet to curl into himself. “Okay, okay, ya won! Don’t need to rub it in, ya snot.”

She chuckled, moving to hug her giggling brother. “Thanks for taking the loss, bro-bro. I officially crown you Head DJ.” He pumped a weak fist into the air, still giggling away the phantom sensations. Stan shooed her away, placing Dipper in his brother’s arms.

“You go get the dork some water. I’ll handle our winner.” Ford nodded, carrying the exhausted Dipper down the attic stairs. Stan cracked his knuckles before scooping Mabel up in his arms, holding her against his chest. “Congrats, ya snot. Here’s my favorite part of your reward…”

He squeezed her side, making the sweater lover burst into bubbly giggles. She twisted and squirmed, eyes growing wide. “B-buhut Gruhuhunkle Stahan! Ihi wohohohon!”

He snorted, moving up to tease her ribs. “You did, yeah. Your brother got the worst of it; I’ll go a bit easier on ya. Congrats, you goober.” She whined, protests already forming on her tongue. “Thahat ihisn’t fahair! Sohore loser!”

Stan scratched and scribbled between each bone, acting as if it was just a normal conversation. “It’s totally fair. I don’t remember there being a rule against tickling the winner.” She scrunched up her nose, mock-glaring at him. “Thahat- youhu- uhuhugh!”

It was adorable to see his relatives’ reactions. He loved to hear their laughs, see them smile, make them forget about the crazy lives they’d led for just a second. The whole “Weirdmageddon” fiasco had done a bit of damage. Stan took any chance he could get to make them feel like regular kids again. Dipper had already gotten his go; now it was Mabel’s turn.

“B-buhuhut- HEHEHEY! NOHOT THE PIHIHIHITS!” He poked her armpit, making the girl squeal. “It’s cute how you two share everything. Makes tickling the snot out of ya a whole lot easier.” It was gonna be a long day…

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gargusscp · 10 months ago

Text

When She Was Just-

(More fanfic of @zal-cryptid's Misfits in Toyland comic. Contains size stuff, so reader beware.)

“So you just sit on down, get yourself comfy, and I’ll be right back to start our playdate!”

Easier said than done, Beau thought to herself, squirming on the spot for a decent position on the couch as Dolly flop-skipped out the room, singing a tuneless babble. If Toyland had one notable disadvantage - once you exhausted the obvious grievances with losing your old life and existing as a plaything for probably all eternity - it was the lack of halfway decent furniture. Chairs and beds made to fit a doll weren’t exactly designed with human comforts in mind. Little give to their rigid wood and plastic frames, cushioning a sliver-thin strip of foam at best, too often ever so slightly disproportionate for all except one user. Beau herself could hardly roll half a turn either way in her own bed without risking falling out, let alone find a non-cramped spot on Dolly’s ratty wool sofa.

Granted, Beau took issue with her proportions in nearly all matters. A porcelain-figurine of a shepherdess, she towered over most other folk in Toyland. The Barbie doll down the lane claimed she felt no perspective different at twelve inches from her 5’6” human height; Beau, once 4’11”, felt quite the substantial difference at eighteen. That Barbie girl barely measured to the bottom of Beau’s chest. Her life as a vanishing slip ended the day she kicked her way from her arrival box and felt the dimensions of her new form , a figurine sculpted for detail over function, garbed in a needlessly voluminous lace gown triple her natural width. Actions major and minor all the day came with overbearing reminder she was, all told, huge.

Waking in the morning? Bumps and bonks reaffirming her playset of a home was hastily retro-fitted to just barely accommodate her bulk. Passing other toys in the public square? Snickers about her heavy trod and long shadow. Chatting with friends after a day in the fields? Oh God, how her voice so easily overwhelms the group.

One such chat started her path to this damnably undersized couch, why oh why won’t her dress gather without bunching and bulging in the small of her back? “You seem real tense lately, Beau.” “You spend too much time tending your flock, Beau.” “I didn’t know you could micromanage sheep.” They had a point, she did feel wound up, and without any mechanism to blame. Absolutely nothing to do with her work, they simply didn’t understand how much it meant to her, but a point on the mark is a point on the mark. Even so, she felt reticent about visiting Dolly when the subject inspired some… less than altogether pure remarks. “Oh, a playdate with Dolly is just what you need, big girl!” “Yeah, I hear she’s got the magic touch, pushes all your buttons if you got ‘em.” “I dunnow, seems more adventurous than Beau’s used to.”

She sulked in her home for some hours after, twiddling the too-small business card in her spindly fingers, torn between offense at their implications and genuine curiosity. The language Dolly used in advertising her services left anyone a smidgen past pure childhood innocence little room to ignore the barely-hidden meaning. Chance was right, she generally wouldn’t entertain those sorta transactions. On the other hand (flicking the card from one to the other), despite the crude jokes around “playing with Dolly,” the ragdoll seemed plenty friendly whenever Beau had occasion for brief exchanges to and from work, and those who did partake never so much as hinted at anything untoward. Just the surface-level meaning any halfway literate could take from the text.

Which posed some trouble when Beau hoped the rumors were true. Knew her frustrations ran deeper than simply too much time in the Arctic sun standing over sheep who, strictly speaking, needed no herding. Wanted to come right out and ask for the weirdest sort of help resolving her deepest set issue with life in Toyland. Yet if she guessed wrong, if Dolly’s play sessions were half so wholesome as suspected, there’d be zero chance of looking her straight in the button eye for a long time coming. Beau felt flushed, but her skin remained its neutral painted shade as she fiddled and twiddled, thinking long into the night.

After a week’s protracted thought, Beau had worked a free afternoon into her schedule, left a note on Dolly’s doorstep announcing her visit and available hours, spent a sleepless night cursing the inventor of packing foam, and squeezed into Dolly’s residence at the appointed time. The way she figured, best to play it cool, wend her way to the point roundabout as she can manage, and hope against hope Dolly gets the idea, and moreover, approves. If not… well, running away isn’t exactly difficult at her size. Though she may crack a doorframe or two in the rush.

So she sat, or rather shifted and bounced in vain with sitting a fleeting incidental matter, trying to distract herself from a welling panic in her breast by focusing on the details of Dolly’s foyer. No need to run if she busied her eyes studying the cardboard cutout of a flame in the fireplace, crayon scribblings of yellows and oranges subtly shifting in a dance implying warmth she could not feel. Why question her purpose in coming here when she could examine the conversation pieces on the coffee table, seemingly alphabet blocks with notably peeling paint and assorted accessories from mismatched doll lines chipped in odd places? Oh God, this was a bad idea, but don’t think about that, think about the imitation-wood wallpaper, or the paper-printout throw rug in the corner, or the approaching sound of rags on smoothed balsa wood!

Beau templed her hands over her face, pinching her nose so hard she risked shattering it and index fingers alike. You can do this, she thought, screwing her eyes shut. Just ask like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Alrighty! I’m… ready! How ‘bout… you?”

She blinked, turned, and looked down. Dolly shuffled backwards through the entryway, dragging a gallon-size ziplock full to bursting with cotton balls in her wake. “Sorry I took my time! Had to think’ve… something we could use for… sheep!” she beamed. “Didn’t… phew… didn’t want to ask yours to come in! Gotta keep things private, y’know!”

Funny the things you notice when forcing your thoughts away from undesired conclusions. As Beau sat ramrod stiff, hands still hovering before her mouth, her gaze darted all over Dolly, taking in aspects of her person as substitute for the chant oh, Oh no, oh no no no, she really does just want to play at counting sheep, this is bad, get out, abort, abort! The polished button eyes which twisted about and pressed on her face ever so slightly to distort the surrounding area into expressions. The rosy patch circles on her cheeks Beau swore sometimes grew and shrank in size with Dolly’s mood. The faded candystripe pattern of her burlap dress - shorter than her usual outfit, or just Beau’s imagination? The… well, the slightness. Dolly stood somewhat taller than most humanoid toyfolk (if still a few inches shy of Beau’s height), but being a cotton-stuffed ragdoll made her seem so insubstantial. Hardly any klumphing from her step, a wavering quality to her gestures, so light that the occasional jostle when passing her could knock her several body lengths away. Not a rigid or heavy thing about her.

“Sooooo…?”

Beau flinched. She should probably say something.

“I’m… sure they wouldn’t mind, if you asked…”

“Naaaah, don’t be silly!” Dolly waved off the notion, wrist bouncing every which way. “I see you in the fields, acting all Miss Bossy Lady with ‘em, hardly having any fun! All they’d do is get you doing that again! Sure, if you wanna invite, I won’t say no, but as Toyland’s first ‘n’ best professional playmate, I gotta say you’re better off with THESE sheep today!”

She hefted an armful of cotton balls, cradling them back and forth while bleating, “Baaa! Baaa!”

Beau coughed. “Well, you know, I… it’s the right way of doing things. A shepherd, well… she tends her flock and… makes sure they go where they need to…”

“Plus!” Dolly scampered over and tugged at Beau’s voluminous dress folds, encouraging her to come over to the “flock.” “Plus, I’ve heard you talkin’ all the time! Who could miss it? You’re usually SUPER confident and forward. Don’t give anyone a turn until you’re done! Being all ‘uh’ and ‘err’ and ‘well..’ ain’t like you! Trust me, if you’re here and being Miss Hem Haw instead of Miss Bossy Lady, you NEED this!”

For her stature and composition, Dolly pulled surprisingly hard, prompting Beau to rise and at least begin hesitantly stepping towards the cotton pile, lest her dress tear under enthusiastic hands. “Right, but the thing is… I don’t exactly w-”

“So!” Dolly plopped herself down on the floor, busied beyond hearing with her ideas for the next few hours. “We got your sheep here, right? And you’ve got your you, and since you’re the shepherdess, you’re gonna do shepherdess things for them! EXCEPT! We aren’t gonna do your boring herding stuff, we’re gonna have fun! Name the sheep, get to know them, let ‘em scamper around, jump some fences, do some counting, maybe a nap in the middle if it makes us sleepy!”

“Dolly…”

“That’s all for later, though! What’d you think THIS little sheepie’s name should be?”

“Dolly, may I please say something before we start?”

She wished she still had a tongue to bite. The request wasn’t meant to come out quite so impatient, barking. If Dolly minded the sudden shot of aggression, it only evidenced through her face going neutral for a moment or two before breaking back into a wide smile. “Sure thing! Whatcha got?” And then her head lolled to the side, resting angled cross her shoulder in a way Beau always found offputting. No matter how much she knew this as Dolly’s I’m Listening I’m Hearing Honest pose, the limp stillness in her manner creeped a body out.

With a heavy sigh, Beau gathered her skirts and lowered herself cross-legged to the floor, intent on getting this right. Steady and honest, she reminded herself, tucking and checking the fabric for comfort. Wend your way in, give the full picture, keep your head, hope for the best. Right. Here goes.

“I am sure you have heard me tell how I came to the island, or at least heard from another who has,” she began, voice low and level as manageable. “Short, skinny little Beau used to flying under everyone’s notice, suddenly so big a toy she’s practically eight feet tall compared to all the rest. I am not stupid, I took one look at myself and figured a good rough version of why I came here - and a bit of talking to my neighbors cemented it. All those years dodging attention, dodging responsibility, shirking duties for increasingly ephemeral reasons until I wasn’t taking proper care of my own health, let alone the people I might have helped if I took a tiny bit of interest in my life? And now I’m a shepherd in Toyland with a flock waiting? The message was pretty clear: shape up, adopt this duty, learn some discipline and make some proper commitments for once.”

A pause, to glance at Dolly for response. Absolutely none, as expected, blank-eyed and still. When she listens, she does literally nothing else.

“So I did what was expected. And it helped, it really has, I like being shepherd for the sheep. I do not know if they’re toyfolk themselves or just extensions for my punishment, but I get up, I tend them however long they need tending, and then I go home. That is my life, and I think it a good life. I live on a clock where I let hours slip, I’m assertive where I let others step on me, I’m a responsible person with a point to her life instead of a slacker doormat of no worth or use. All to say… I just do not think playing cotton ball sheep is what I need here. My job is playing the person I’m supposed to be, so there is no need to replicate it. Right?

Expecting Dolly’s continued silence and mentally readying a third leg to her spiel, Beau jolted hard when the ragdoll’s head shot up and said, “Okay! We don’t gotta play sheep! What do you wanna play, then?”

With a shudder, Beau steered towards her main point. “Right. The reason I came here today… the REASON I came here today is because I have felt one.. one major problem the entire time I have lived here.” Good Lord, could her speech be more stilted? “Not something you would expect most to complain about, probably too silly for consideration, I should just g…” She promised herself. No running until outright rejection. Say it. “I do not like… I want… well…”

“Your clothes? Do you wanna play dress-up? I’ve got some-”

There go the floodgates.

“I hate being so much taller than everyone! It’s not just bumping my head and knocking people over and never finding anything in my size, that all sucks but I’m sick of being so BIG overall! I woke up in my box and I looked around and I thought oh my God, it finally happened! Because I was always short, right, and I had a THING for it and wanted to be even smaller, smaller than possible, and here I was under two feet and telling myself well, you’re not a person anymore, but you’ve got your dream, that’s something at least. And then I wander into town and what do you know, they’re all shrimps compared to me, I’m practically a living colossus compared to everyone, and I have to learn how to be responsible and punctual and outward while living in THIS body? THIS gigantic freak of a thing? I’m the runt I always fantasized about and I can’t even feel it and it’s just too much and I want.. I want… I…”

Beau could not remotely account how, lacking lungs and all, she winded herself spilling her secret in one prolonged babble. Regardless mechanics, she sat there on the floor, huffing for breath, fully aware she looked an enormous fool in figurative and literal terms. Somewhere in her rant, Dolly’s head had lolled to the side again, which gave Beau the impression she could, perhaps, sneak out without further embarrassment. The other toys sometimes said Dolly’s true self fugued away years ago; maybe if she made the door before Dolly straightened out, she wouldn’t be mis-

“Oh! Ohhhhhhh! I get it now! You wanna play Big Girl/Little Girl!”

-ssssssssssssssssssssssss-

“You be the little girl and I be the big girl, right?”

-sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss-

“I can do that easy! You shoulda said when we came in, we coulda been at it ages by now! C’mon, up, up, just gotta use your imagination for this one!”

-sed. Through mentally sibilating, Beau let Dolly’s mitten-like hands grasp her overlarge yet slender digits and guide the towering shepherdess to her feet, passively swaying on the spot. From where she stood, she could not possibly imagine how Dolly meant to fulfill the roles as proposed. Half due to still whirling through panic at her shame being so readily accepted, half due to standing some six inches higher than the doll’s crown. Gazing through doubled vision at the knots and kinks of black yarn hair, Beau tried to picture Dolly as the taller of the two, and failed as her mind blanked.

“It’s alright!” Dolly piped up, rags still grasping porcelain. “This is to help you relax, but you gotta do that at least a little to get going!” She stood there, neck considerably craned and mouth brightly curved until Beau adjusted her stance, an honest effort at playing willing participant rather than shellshocked statue. “Great! Now, I’m just gonna…” Dolly shuffled herself back and forth, producing a light scuffing whenever she bumped Beau’s dress. “...and a bit of…” Her head bounced about, hair bobs threatening to shake from their bows. “...aaaaaaand!”

A rag foot went lightly fwuph upon the floor. “Hi there, little girl!” she giggled, looking down. “I’m big girl!”

The air in the room hung still as seconds tip-toed by. Beau measured her options. Responding as Dolly clearly expected didn’t feel right. Walking out ran the risk of Dolly telling someone later. Screaming felt undignified. She settled, somewhat reticently, on polite suggestion.

“Uh, Dolly? I am not entirely sure if you have noticed but… I am… I’m up here? Would it help if I laid down? You might look pretty tall then…”

“Huh!” Dolly kept her eyes fixed firm on the floor between them. “That’s weird! I definitely see little girl Beau down there! She’s sooo tiny! Hi there, lil’ Beau!” Her hand waved carelessly about for a few pendulations, until her forehead wrinkled, her arm slowed, and she asked, “Wait… you’ve never played like this before, have you?”

“Well, I might have roleplayed online some in college, but… look, are you sure I should be standing for this? I don’t want to tell you how to do your job or anything, but if we’re being open and honest about this, you could try uh… stepping on me to get the point across?”

“Nahhhh, that’s Dommy Mommy, we don’t need to make pretend for that! I mean like… really played! Like when you’re a kid. Tried and tried and tried until you actually believed for a little bit! Here, look, close your eyes and think, ‘I’m real real real real little right now, and Dolly’s suuuuper big,’ and then when I stomp, look up! Give it a try!”

Features blank and uncomprehending, Beau did as she was told anyhow. It felt stupid: if she looked up, she might see the poorly painted roof to Dolly’s foyer a few inches from her face, lit by a weak heat lamp behind a fake cardboard fire, standing on cheap balsa wood, but not Dolly. She was down there, Beau was up here. At the least, she could humor her host. So she leaned her head back and set a mental intonation. I’m small. I have been small since I got here. I am like… like a minifig. Everyone look like mountains. I need friends to carry me everywhere. I can’t tend the sheep because they’re practically mattress warehouses compared to me. That’s me, a pipsqueak, a speck, the smallest girl in Toyland. And I like it this way.

“Okay!” One more, Dolly’s foot went fwuph, signaling Beau to open her eyes. Only this time, several factors shifted radically.

The ceiling, seconds ago so close she might reach to scrape away the peeling paint, now seemed a mile off, details lost in the distance. A steady crackle sung from the fireplace, which flooded the room with a warmth before sorely lacking. Those flimsy strips of balsa felt firm and sturdy as proper oaken hardwood.

And Dolly’s stomp made the whole house shake.

Beau stumbled off her feet and hit the ground hard, yet kept staring upward, mouth agape, verbal expression utterly useless to capture the sight before her eyes. Impossible though it ought’ve been, she now splayed before a great black mound, dust particles still settling round its base. Another, twin to the first, lay some distance to her right, and from both jutted pillars of pure brown fabric, stitchings the length of Beau’s entire body at quick estimate running along the sides of each into… void. No, not a void, merely deep shadow; scootching herself back some, Beau noted a ring of alternating off-whites and dulled-reds, which in turn coalesced into candy cane striping drawing her higher, higher, higher. Past trunklike arms, past a flowered ruff that could drown her home, up to a familiar mouth quirked into a smile, cheek patches glowing more intensely than she’d ever known, button eyes wide, magnified beyond all reason, and trained directly on her.

“There you are, little girl! Told ya you were down there! Hee hee!”

Shrank me. She actually shrank me, Beau thought. Inching back further for a better view, however, she found her understanding of the situation very quickly challenged via her back striking something. What, she couldn’t tell, for when she twisted herself about to check she found only the open expanse of the floor, her frame so small as to readily slide under the couch. Yet, from the scratchy coarseness against her back, tangible even through her considerable layers, Beau knew for a fact she was now pressed firm into Dolly’s sofa.

A deafening coo from above forced her eyes Dollyward again. “Hey, hey, don’t worry! Gonna seem a bit weird, but it’s all part of playing pretend! Long as you and me both think you’re tiny, you actually are, sorta! Big Beau’s still here, she didn’t go anywhere. It’s just you’re ALSO Little Beau now, which means I can do-”

Scrabbling for comprehension, Beau experienced two wholly contradictory sensations at once. In the back of her mind, she dimly perceived Dolly crouching down, scooping both arms underneath Beau, and hefting her up with considerably less difficulty than she handled the far-lighter bag of cotton balls. In active sight, though, clear as day and solid as anything, she watched helpless as Dolly crouched, gently slid a single mitt towards her, brushed her aboard with the other, and tenderly rose back to her full stature. The rush of air nearly knocked Beau flat once more, but she held her ground best she could, no matter how much said ground felt like ever-shifting cotton stuffing just beneath a layer of old cloth. Maybe the existence of proper flooring in top-side reality helped her stay balanced?

Only, no, Dolly didn’t have proper flooring, she lived in a bargain bin dollhouse! That stuff practically bounced under every step on the way in!

But, if Beau was still standing on flimsy balsa wood, how did she keep her footing s-

No, wrong, she wasn’t even standing, she was in Dolly’s arms. On Dolly’s palm. In Dolly’s house, which Dolly now vastly outsized. Only it wasn’t Dolly who was big; Beau was just very, very small. Except…

“-THIS!” Dolly triumphed, shaking Beau from her reverie.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” she murmured to herself, irrespective her lack of stomach.

“Well if you WANT to while playing pretend, you can! Though I wouldn’t like it very much, so please don’t unless you REALLY need to!”

“Okay… okay, okay, alright, so…” Beau did her best to gather her thoughts. Dolly made this somewhat difficult as her enormous hand hovered nearby, gently prodding the miniature shepherdess to and fro (or at least tapping her regular-sized face for similar effect), though Beau found no will to ask Dolly stop. With every bump and subsequent stumble, it became marginally easier to tune out what was really happening, stop thinking of it in such terms. While she could still see and feel the awkward weight lifting job necessary to simulate her palm-bound station, the sink of her feet into the hidden fluff seemed softer, the slight must inherent to ragdolls of Dolly’s vintage permeated deeper, the boom of Dolly’s giggles and the warmth in the room and the sense of having dwindled next to nothing inching towards total believability as her only reality.

“Tiny. Tiny like I always wanted.”

“Yep!”

“On your hand. Like some kind of bug.”

“Uh-huh!”

“Except n-” No, actually. Beau bit back the words, acceptance and embrace seeming easier than interrogating denial. If she pushed too hard, the perceptive spell might break, and she might not find the will to go back. Instead, she shuffled on the spot until Dolly asked a question of her own.

“How do you like it?”

The answer came far easier than expected. “I- I think it’s wonderful. Can all the toyfolk do this?”

“Oh yeah, all the time! For sleeping and eating and washing and all sorts of stuff! But fun stuff like this, you do need two making believe together at least! It can’t do stuff like make you hhhhmmmmmmmmnnngngn, but you can see and feel and do all sorts of things! It’s really really neato!”

Beau opted against asking about the sudden mushmouthing, and instead asked, “And… do you like it? Me like this and you like that?”

Dolly tossed her head in a prideful swish, enough yarn to smother the town square flouncing in reply. “As Toyland’s first and best professional playmate, I like anything my guests wanna do!” Then she leaned in close, so close Beau almost scented something like candy-sweet breath, and added in whisper, “But also you’re SUPER cute like this! Hee!”

With those words, whatever reticence Beau felt melted entirely. She pulled herself to her feet, rushed forward, slammed herself into Dolly’s cheek, and spread her arms to squeeze them against the ragdoll’s cushy face wide and tight as she could manage. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you so much I love it I should have come here months ago!” Mid-nuzzle with a stitch broader than her torso, she caught herself, realizing what must have happened topside with her sudden movement, and coughed, “Oh, uh… sorry if I, you know… bulldozed you there.”

“Don’t worry! I put you down while we were talking! You’re just standing there, still ‘n’ sturdy! Didn’t move an inch! Not that you can unless I want you to~.”

Beau blinked. She achieved total immersion and hadn’t realized. A broad smile lit her face. “Oh, this is going to be so much-”

“FUN!!!”

Dolly’s exclamation sent Beau tumbling backward head over heels. And so - with the quick establishment of safe words and signals - they were off.

As show of gratitude, Beau let Dolly take first point with whatever sorts of games she’d normally prefer. To no surprise, her instincts trended towards childish games, though the sheer size disparity made these more engaging and enjoyable for Beau than had they tried beforehand. Marveling at the seemingly overlarge ragdoll’s deftness as they played patty-cake, bulk slab hands gently bumping against her own and clapping just softly enough to only produce a minor sonic boom. Now and then, Dolly timed her claps to close around Beau, enveloping her playmate in muffling dark and snickering as Beau squirmed within, doing her level best to keep the rhythm while ensnared.

Jumping rope wouldn’t work quite so well under normal circumstances - Beau had no chance of clearing Dolly’s skips, and the idea of Dolly registering Beau’s twirls was laughable. Instead, she placed her mite of a partner in her hair, and told Beau to hang on while she tried at besting her record. At first, Beau found the rapid swish of corded rope overhead and the wild tangle of Dolly’s hair a little frightening, but after the first fifty skips she came to appreciate the experience as a kind of thrill ride. With the right wriggling, she could tuck herself between a few yarn strands, ensure a secure position, and appreciate the doll’s talent for speed step and criss-cross.

All the same, she asked for a game more accommodating her size next, inspiring Dolly to a round of hide ‘n’ seek. This suited Beau quite nicely, though not because she proved a particularly adept hider. She found her options severely limited by where Dolly placed her and how far she could scurry within even a deliberately molasses countdown, which made her discovery inside a minute practically inevitable. Rather, it made a delightful opportunity for exploring the room from her miniaturized vantage point, breath taken away by the cavernous space under the couch, the monolithic quality of knick-knacks on the mantle, the all-swallowing dark of an otherwise light shadow in the connecting hallway, all of it so incredibly convincing through new eyes. If she woke up here with no further context, there wouldn’t pass a second she thought it anything other than a full-scale home.

(One round did go in her favor. She tip-toed her way under the slight heel rise in Dolly’s shoe, and spent several minutes shuffling along with its tread while snickering to herself, grateful Dolly found the act of pretending so natural she never once thought to nudge Beau’s actual body for a hint.)

I Spy proved mainly an excuse for Dolly to walk about the room humming and erring to herself in mock consternation over what to choose, her path always hewing within relative inches of catching Beau underfoot, then spinning about in “sudden” inspiration with, “I spy a cutie pie!” Obviously Beau could not replicate the same effect, especially not while blushing from the compliment (actually, properly blushing, she realized, real heat from her cheeks gone flush); she instead alternated between playing legit and spying “the biggest doll ever.” Either way, Dolly knew her home and herself too well to fail a guess.

They did find time for a brief round of play sheep tending at Dolly’s suggestion, a transitory game to ease Beau into control of their activities. True to her word, Dolly made sure Beau kept from her usual controlling, overly-mannered habits, prodding verbally and physically if she showed signs of slipping. Really, it only took a few of these before Beau conceded entirely and the game turned into one of plonking into cotton balls thrice her height for warmth while Dolly shuffled the others about, generating heat and bleating to herself.

Maybe I should just relax with the sheep from time to time, Beau pondered, her face sinking another half-step into the fluff. If their wool feels half so cozy as I’m imagining, it might do us all some good…

The task of calling time suddenly fell to Beau, alongside Dolly’s head when she slumped face-first into the cotton pile, having put herself to sleep counting cotton ball sheep. A gentle smile on her face despite the sudden jar, Beau pattered on over to shove at Dolly’s cheeks in hopes of rousing the giant. No good, alas. Rule of play made counting sheep dangerous business if one believed in its narcoleptic sway, and nobody on the island adhered to its tenets firmer. Girl was plain out like a light.

Beau contemplated her options. She COULD will her perspective back to normal and wake Dolly in her full-sized body. Or…

She had a much, much better idea. Scuttling at top speed, Beau made a beeline for Dolly’s thigh, half-exposed beneath the folds of her dress. Fortunately the doll’s awkward pose compressed her dimensions somewhat, else Beau would have quite the long run before her. As it were, a mere minute’s running brought her before her destination, a great unmoving wall. The sight could take her breath away, were she not already winded from the sprint over - voluminous dresses did not make good exercise gear. After affording herself a moment’s awe at the sheer expanse of something she thought remarkably slender and floppy just this morning (and to catch her breath), Beau cracked her fingers best she could without breakage, and set to dancing them across Dolly’s rags in a tickle.

At first, no result. Not shocking, for even imagining Dolly’s leg as smooth warm flesh rather than sewn cloths, Beau could only stimulate so much surface area. Movement was necessary, which meant sidling her way inwards, towards hopefully more sensitive patches. Gliding her arms up, down, and in circles on her approach, the hem of Dolly’s dress passing by overhead and necessitating a small adjust in step underfoot, Beau half-hoped Dolly would wake before she pressed too much further… then mentally slapped herself for such idiocy.

“Just snooze long as you like…” she grinned, sliding one step further in, and then another, and another, and another, closer and closer and closer to…

Exactly how deep she went, Beau could not say. When Dolly finally registered the caressing strokes, the lack of unfiltered light and those enormous pillars kicking all about conspired into complete disorientation as Beau was mercilessly thrown about, eventually tumbling out the dress between Dolly’s feet. In spite of the indignity of her situation, Beau found herself laughing alongside the giantess, pounding the floor some at the thought of what she just did until Dolly scooped her back up, and kept on for some time after at that.

“Guess.. hahaha… I guess there goes any formality about my taking point!” she chirped, spreading out on her back and gazing up at Dolly’s staring face.

“Hee, yeah! Being spontaneous can be just as fun as planning things out!”

“...Dolly, did you put yourself to sleep on purpose to see what I’d do on my own?”

“Won’t tell! But it felt good anyways!”

Beau stuck out her tongue, marveled at the fact she could, then stretched and heaved a long sigh. “Do you know, since we went there, I have wondered something about this whole imagination distorting reality thing since we started.”

“Oh?��

“We can make me smaller after a fashion by making believe, but… can we also make you bigger? If both of us pretend really, really hard, like you said?”

Hardly a moment after she posed the question, Beau got her answer, as Dolly simply expanded outward. Attention still fixed on the mini-toy in her hand, smile unwavering as ever, the ragdoll became, unceasingly, more and more. All in their imagination, of course, but Beau’s shrinking happened instantly and involved no changes beyond herself; this was Dolly’s legs crowding her furniture against the wall, Dolly’s back blocking the entryway and sliding along the ceiling as she hunched over, Dolly’s free hand covering and smothering the fireplace in a groping quest for free space. The fact of a process Beau could stand and witness in real time made the already impressive growth near-overwhelming.

As she kept on, the room groaned and the foundations creaked. Beau distantly recalled her observation about Dolly’s weight as insubstantial, realized her contribution to this particular bit of make-believe rendered the ragdoll just so heavy as her size implied, and felt her higher functions black out. From feeling like a mite to a veritable dust speck, she rode out the change, reveling a little every time Dolly shifted on the spot to gain more room or produced a worrying crack at her feet. Whatever this looked like in proper reality, Beau couldn’t give two spits. This was glorious, and that was enough.

If Dolly wasn’t quite human-sized within a minute, she certainly challenged the room’s maximum mass capacity as she tapered off, grunting some in mild discomfort from awkward positioning. Surprising for her composition, yet Beau supposed someone so bendy and soft must too have their limits. Or rather, she would suppose, were her eyes not lit with the delighted sparkling of an entire night’s sky.

“Oh my God, you can, you can actually get bigger, cripes, no, wait, this changes everything, I was expecting you to say no, oh my fffff… Dolly, Dolly how much bigger can you get? Let’s do it, let’s keep going, I want to see it, I wanna climb in your collar and watch you burst this stupid house and go stomping around the island, give everyone the shock of their lives, bigger shock than coming here ever was. Oh, oh, hey, if we get more toys to see you like this does that make it realer? Can we make it more real than your actual body, can we make this permanent? Get you like, fifty feet tall, or whatever that would be proportionate to us? First and best and BIGGEST playmate, can you imagine it? Oh my God oh my God oH MY GOD!!!”

Hyperventilating, Beau let her thoughts run wild in a way she hadn’t entertained since college. She woke up this morning expecting humiliation and disappointment, and now THIS door opened wide just for her? Heaven from straight out hell!

Tragedy, alas, came crashing about her head when Dolly spoke, alongside serious earache from the raw volume of her voice.

“I can, actually! Although, even if it is all pretend, there’s still enough really happening to be uh… a little bit worried? I’m trying super hard to not crush my couch right now. And if I keep growing, I might just sorta appear outside without any damage, or I might break my roof. So… can, but prooooobably shouldn’t?”

Beau sat there, contemplating. She came dangerously close to suggesting all caution go stuff itself in the wind, consumed by overwhelming desire to glut on her deepest fantasies and see this place smashed to splinters as revenge for their inhuman state. Thankfully, a new life of self-discipline paid dividends beyond dragging herself out from bed in the morning, and cooler-headed reasoning prevailed. To face the entity responsible for repairing any beyond-the-pale damage and explain WHY Dolly’s house had a great big Dolly-sized hole in would prove too too much.

“Mmnnnnngh, alright, fine! No ragdoll rampage unless we start another one of these playdates outside. Just… can I have a uh… a kiss before you shrink back d-”

“SURE!”

Escape velocity g-force didn’t compare with the pressure pinning Beau to the spot as Dolly pressed hand to face. Any chance to account why she asked for a kiss when she knew perfectly well Dolly’s mouth was a pasted-on detail with no depth or lips vanished the instant she smashed directly against the red semi-circle. Mwah!’s of thunderous amplitude boomed from every direction, Dolly indulging the request many times over, giving Beau the space necessary to conjure something other than fabric around her person. Same basic principles as all other forms of play, of course, just a matter of picuting what you want to see and feel…

With some effort, the rags morphed. Warmth crept into their fibers, their flat surface splitting and expanding into new volume, a texture like the finest gloss spread over naturally smooth flesh. Beau imagined the twitch of tiny facial muscles pursing and puckering, stretching across micrometers that may so well be miles at her scale, to catch her in the cleft and pull her vacuum tight with the slightest suction. A pop louder than any sound in history as she’s released, only for the phantom process to repeat again, and again, and again.

She leaned into it, thrilling at the tangible contrast between present and imaginary, the hints of plain stitching on those lips and the taste of proper breath intermingling with cotton. Some small (VERY small, all told) part of her wondered again how far she could push this, whether imagining Dolly sucking an infinitesimal bit harder to trap the shepherdess in her mouth would actually transport Beau inside the doll’s head, to mingle with nonexistent teeth and tongue and saliva, the threat of swallowing looming ever closer. And then to properly go through with it - impossible when this wasn’t her real body, but if it WERE, lost in Dolly’s stuffing, forgotten and insignificant as any other piece of debris.

Eaten by a ragdoll. Wouldn’t that plain beat all?

Fortunately, Dolly had her fill of mock-smooching a practically empty palm before Beau could make serious headway on imagining an unaware vore scenario. Or seemingly unaware, as it were. With their minds modestly intermingled for the game’s sake, Dolly sensed Beau’s intentions, and figured it best they move on before she took any rash actions requiring surgical intervention.

“While you recover down there,” she said, voice returning to mere deafening rumbles as she imagined herself back to a sensible size, “we can do something a little like me being big big big BIG girl! Only gotta go the other way round!”

For her part, Beau was less recovering than indulging a passing sulk. Can’t watch Dolly wreck the town, can’t feed herself to Dolly, and now the colossal palm upon which she laid shrank back to mere enormity. S’not fair, this was supposed to be the part where she got to do whatever she liked. If they had to obey rationality and precaution, where was the f- f- ffffffff-

Beau’s mind once again stumbled on drawn-out consonants as she noticed the spatial distortion of her immediate environment reversing polarity. Dolly resumed her usual size, yet her hand, which had seemingly collapsed in on itself, now stretched away from Beau’s central location, at rapid speed and seemingly more gigantic than before. She was shrinking again, in moments as tall to her first shrunken height as it stood against Dolly, and then the same for her second tier, down down down…

“WE CAN GO A LOT MORE EXTREME LIKE THIS, I THINK!”

Porcelain chipped from Beau’s face, the statement slammed her so hard. Yeah. Yeah, that’d do as compensation.

To her mind, she lost days wandering the now-continent of Dolly. Because none of this was strictly happening, her waves and foot-taps for attention were always met with an obliging pinch ride, her requests for another location heard and fulfilled without trouble; but even so, on deposit at her new destination, Beau let time slough clean away. Those candycane stripes represented plains a dozen miles wide and countless miles along, ideal for thoughtless wandering as Dolly lay upon her back. The simple curve of black leather on her shoes became ascent up a slope worthy any seasoned mountaineer, magnificently challenging for a size-obsessive like Beau. She walked the shadow of a single stitch, her hand run along its rim to enjoy the microscopic imperfections bumping through her fingers; she had Dolly bend the flowery ruff round her neck to transform it into the ultimate downhill zip-ride a few too many times over; she closed her eyes, let Dolly select a random patch of rags within the dress, challenged herself to figure where she stood, and blushed quite ferociously when the answer coalesced.

(She figured it only proper to not ask after the meaning behind the massive “S” on a field of red. Breast tats are a private matter, after all.)

The head alone offered endless possibilities. Eyes like a frozen sea on a moonless night, so dark they swallowed all ambient light, so slick Beau practically glid over their surface, the thread holes chasms into an underworld. The forest of yarn-hair at her old size now an endless Amazonian expanse, the weave’s logic lost to miniscule chaos of discarded fuzz and imperceptible shifts, like the environment malforming itself into a maze just to challenge Beau. Bows of a silky softness approaching angelic, tempting sleep everlasting in their flamingo tuck and fold. Cheek patches, radiating mid-summer desert heat, near-intolerable at this size past a single minute, yet how delightful and special a thing to roast in the glow of another’s affection. As to the mouth… well, Dolly wouldn’t let Beau near the mouth again.

A thousand locales upon a doll scarcely over a foot high, so many seemingly identical, yet all stirring in their own unique ways. Between major hot spots, Beau simply stood, immersed, let herself be. By the loose reckoning of time in her head, she must have spent so long upon Dolly that her host got up to attend other matters, looked after her own feeding, sleep, other clients, whole daily cycles interrupted every so often by her adorable germ asking for a new location. Sense dictated Beau should detect Dolly moving about while curled in the crook of her knee, feel gravity shift as the doll changed positions. To think elsewise would render Dolly more than a mere continent - an entire world unto herself, population Beau and no other. Clung to a thin cloth skin, needing and knowing nothing save her new home. Such thoughts flitted through her hollow head, then vanished into wordless euphoria.

As with all things, it soon came to an end. Happily, this ending announced itself via a pleasing rumble.

“HEY, CUTIE! HATE TO SAY WHEN YOU’RE SO COZY, BUT WE ARE ALMOST AT YOUR THREE HOUR LIMIT. YOUR NOTE SAID YOU NEED TO CHECK ON YOUR SHEEP AFTER THAT, SO WE’VE GOTTA GROW YOU BACK. SORRY!”

Though too at peace for the words to seriously disturb her, Beau felt minor confusion at the reminder. “Drat, you’re right, I did set a limit. Except, wow, has it really only been three hours?”

“CLOCK SAYS TEN MINUTES TO GO. I JUST THOUGHT YOU’D NEED SOME TIME TO ADJUST BACK INTO BIG BEAU.”

“Feels as though I spent a lifetime down here…”

“Aw, that’s just how playing pretend gets!” Already Dolly’s voice softened to near-intolerable levels, in tandem with Beau regaining her starting shrunken size. “So, if you close your eyes and picture it real hard, we’ll bring you back up to full size, and then-”

“W-wait!” Beau cried, flailing her arms in a desperate bid for reprieve. “Ten minutes can be practically forever in playtime, right? We have enough left for one last thing!”

Dolly tapped her chin in consideration. “Oh yeah! When you thought we were playing Dommy Mommy, you asked me to step on you! I can do that, hang on!”

“ACTUALLY!” She coughed, shuffling on the spot, eyes cast downward, goading herself into asking plain ‘n’ direct. “It is… it’s a little more than that. Would you mind… if it’s not too much… I mean…” Beau gestured uselessly towards the couch, then groaned. “Dolly, can you sit on me?”

The smile that followed could turn deepest midnight to a midday blaze. “I thought you’d never ask~!”

Imagination served Beau’s reactions well. Breath caught in her chest as Dolly carried her to the couch. Skin ran with prickling goosebumps as Dolly set her down perfect center. Nerves screamed in anticipation as Dolly turned about. Sweat pricked her forehead at the sight of Dolly gathering her dress to draw it tight about her backside. An entire nonexistent system of biological impulses and reactions took in the sight of a perfectly flat, rectangular spread of cotton-stuffed fabric leaning back over her position, compared it against the expected list of sexually exciting imagery, ruminated for the briefest of instants, and ran back a report: “Yeah, no, this is still stupid fucking hot to us too.”

Beau squeaked.

WUMPH.

All shape and sense fell away. No chance she’d ever think Dolly slight after this. The only sensation Beau processed was unrelenting weight - Dolly’s complete nothing of a frame crushing her into a flat surface whose wool texture vanished beneath the fact of a single pound turned poundage uncountable by a simple difference in scale. Some part of her wanted to believe Dolly shifted herself back and forth some, rubbing in her position of dominance, but in the moment, the difference between supposition and reality was practically nil. Dolly might do anything up there, and all Beau would know is compression, and paralysis, and weight.

A particularly eager voice in the back of her head had demanded she repeat something like her trick during the earlier kiss, summon up the sensation of a proper person’s rear to enhance the sensation. Run it through a dozen dozen body types to smother herself beneath every manner of human Dolly she could imagine. Completely impossible, now, stupid to have assumed any choice. She was undoubtedly underneath a doll, at the mercy of as sexless a humanoid thing as you please, impressions of curved flesh totally denied by hand-sewn, unendowed textiles. And God help her if the alienation from anything like the human form didn’t make this ten times better, just by mere association with Dolly.

She tried to squirm. She tried to struggle. No use. If Dolly fell inanimate right now, they’d blow clean past her stopping time, perhaps leave her trapped by this wonderfully unbearable pressure all day, all night, however long until someone thought to check on the ragdoll. And if they did check, rouse her or pull her from the couch, would they care to notice the speck she ground into its seating? Could they notice? Beau wanted to shudder at the thought, but could not. She did not kick, nor flail, nor much of anything else. She took the weight, for there was nothing else to do.

(Except, briefly, ponder whether that Barbie doll and her bendy girlfriend might like to try this. Hard plastic held an appeal all its own…)

And then it was over. Light and sound flooded from above as Dolly hoped from her spot, leaving Beau to reel back into normal consciousness. “Alright, we’re inching pretty close here, so we really gotta finish off! Your sheepies are gonna get lonely if you don’t head out soon!”

Denied the ability so thoroughly for so long, Beau fidgeted on the spot. “I mean… you did say I work myself and them alike too hard. Who’s to say staying longer won’t help?”

“Naaaaaah. Besides, I got me-things to do still! Can’t give Little Beau my attention all day!”

“Little Beau can just sit in your collar while you work! Or get put on your shelf and abandoned until…”

“Hey.” Dolly knelt down by the couch, positioning her face on even level with the shrunken shepherdess. “I get it. You wanna play all the time, never stop being Little Beau. And I do too! It’s lots and lots and lots of fun being the first and best professional playmate in Toyland! But you gotta stop sometime, right? Do what you gotta do outside playtime.”

Beau stood, turned her back, crossed her arms, huffed. “But we agreed being Big Beau is bad for me. I haven’t felt this happy and relaxed since I came to Toyland! Why should I go back to acting stuck-up and high-strung all the time?” To her surprise, the last part came out with a slight whine round the edge.

Her ears heard the rough scrape of fabric on fabric as Dolly rubbed her chin in contemplation. “Maybe you’re only like that as Big Beau because you never take the time to be Little Beau. Maybe you spent so much time doing what you think you need to do, you don’t turn off and be what you want. So Big Beau is bossy and stiff, and Little Beau overdoes it and doesn’t wanna stop. Maybe you just gotta find the right balance!”

Beau sniffled, reluctant to turn about.

Arms scooped around her, both miniaturized self and true self, the latter invisible to her eye yet right next to her on the couch. The vertigo of existing across two perspectives clouded her head again as Dolly hefted her high for one last hug. “You can always come by again whenever you got time in your schedule, yeah?” She gave a gentle squeeze, warming Beau to her core. “Little Beau ain’t going away; she’s sleeping so Big Beau can have her turn. They’re not different people! Just, y’know… sides!”

Beau did her best to hug back, simultaneously too small and too big to do so properly. Although she suspected Dolly did not quite take her own advice… “You are right, Dolly. I will keep an eye open for when I have time. And cherish what we have done already. Thank you, so very, very much.”

“No problem!”

The spell broke.

Dolly’s legs wobbled. Without the power of play rendering Beau’s body lighter than a feather, her cotton-stuffed limbs were not equipped to hold a doll half her height over and thrice her weight so high aloft. The pair teetered for a moment, then went crashing to the floor.

“...is there any chance you are into being sat on yourself?” Beau joked.

“Not really! Can you pretty please get up?”

“Fair.” Uncrumpling her dress and unsnagging strands of hair from the floor, she rose back up, steadying against the suddenly unfamiliar yet already normalizing vantage point of her normal toy self. “Do I owe you anything for the service? I know most toyfolk avoid financial exchange unless they have a fondness for Monopoly money, but I figure it best to ask in case…”

“Lemme hang out with your flock sometime and we’re evens Stevens!”

***

Later in the evening, Beau lay awake in bed, echoes of the day’s experiences ringing in her head.

For the remainder of the afternoon, she'd done as she’d planned: stand over her flock, moving them from one end of the pasture to another and back again. Absent the ordinary pressures and obligations of tending livestock, she spent years engaged in this on the daily out of obligation, obligation and belief fastidious attendance might purify her wrongdoings. With Dolly’s session at her back, however, today she took a different set of words to heart and tried to have fun with the job. It was not easy, divorced from such immense gratification (and immense presence…), and she was not sure she did it right, but her sheep seemed appreciative when she let them run free from her command for a time. Bleated approval and followed when she broke into a spontaneous run. Stood willingly as she hugged them at day’s end, imagining each a cotton ball.

Her friends took immediate notice at dinner. Genuine notice, no snark or innuendo, which characterized their original suggestions. “Good one, Beau!” “Can’t believe what a difference I’m seeing, you MUST tell me what she did in there.” “I have never seen you this laid back, it’s a miracle.” When they partook in a night-closing chaser, Beau actually deigned to stay and take a drink herself - for the first time, she felt the slightest buzz from sipping the empty cup, prompting cheers and claps on the back.

Tipsiness wasn’t the only novel sensation in the hours since. Her own home seemed friendlier. The lights provided proper illumination where once they offered dim, faltering glow; the personal effects on her dresser seemed almost serviceable makeup options rather than cheap plastic imitations; the floor no longer groaned under her step, the doorframes accommodated her figure a little more willingly.

Her pillow felt of soft down, her blankets a comfortable fleece. The rickety, long-hated foam strip masquerading as a mattress: just like the one she remembered back home.

How had she gone this long without a spark of vibrancy in her life? Convinced Toyland was this dead, unchanging place, cut off from the joys small and large which made a life worth living? In honesty, likely the same way she went her human life convinced of the same. Self-isolation, presumption of living as an inherent misery, refusal to look up and see what’s actually there without turning about and running. She wanted to feel shame at the thought it took effectively a private kink roleplay session to realize one only need want the full scope of offerings to find them all around… but in the name of balance, swatted the thought aside. Take the good where you can, she thought, that is the real important thing.

And besides. If she learnt of this aspect to the rule of play any other way, she’d never think to do this.

Eyes laid gently closed, Beau rearranged her perspective. While the sensation could not match the strength possible with Dolly’s cooperation, she did not need full intensity in her sleep. Even the faintest impression of her body dwindling until the bed felt sensibly proportioned would help. Somewhere between the extremes, just enough to fit, and settle in, and snooze. If Big Beau and Little Beau needs must cooperate to improve both their lots, they can start by making sure Beau Beau gets some good rest.

Beau rolled on her side, and, for the first time since her arrival, felt at peace in Toyland.

#Misfits in Toyland #Fanfic #Drabble #Dolly MiT #Beau #macro/micro

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thatsatricky1 · 11 months ago

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𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 || ‘𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞’ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Eight of the top ten most popular players in Korea are invited to be the first people to test out the newest device and gameplay by NEO a video game company known as of recent to be the best of the best. An opportunity of a life time handed to them to be able to trial and get a contract to promote it later on. The eight couldn’t resist as they gladly accepted the invitation. Not being able to predict what was to come. A trail test that wouldn’t just be focused on graphics and playablity, no this would test relationships, strength, resolve and many more unpredictable things.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Nct Dream ot7 x Reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Angst, Fantasy, Fluff, Gaming, Humour, Romance, Smut (in future chapters), Thriller.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6,5k+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Cursing, mentions of mild violence (y’all its like one playful punch)

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: This does not depict an accurate picture of Nct Dream and this is strictly fantasy/fiction for entertainment purposes.

“Welcome to Neo, I’m thankful for all of you to be able to come here with your busy schedules at such a late time of the day, even if this is usually the peak hour you work anyway.” A man, the Ceo of Neo clasped his hands together, a grin forming on his face as he addressed the eight figures seated around a retro meeting office room.

Taking a step forward at the head of the table it gave the eight stream and popular gaming players a good look at what he was wearing. Wearing a very fashionable style of clothes that fit with the Neo image, a young generation focused company.

“The reason for you being in the Neo building instead of sitting comfortably at home is because we want to run the first trial here in our very own headquarters. To ensure your safety and comfort while in game, just for the first time. If everything runs smoothly you’ll be able to continue the trials in your own personal spaces in whatever time schedule you all can agree on.” Taeyong explained the reason as to why it needed to be done in person toda before the devices and game could be used in their own apartments.

“I’ve heard from my people you’ve all asked your questions on things like contracted hours, sponsorship bonuses and the whole boring stuff. So why don’t we get to the interesting part, hm?” Taeyong finally unclamping his hands giving the young adults a smirk at their reactions while workers entered with a device.

“This.” Taeyong started speaking, holding his hand out as someone placed the tech wear headgear into his hand before he continued on “Is what you’ll all be wearing during the trials. Designed for comfort around the head and of course aesthetically pleasing to the eyes, I do hope no one minds that I’ve assigned each of you different coloured versions.”

The eight gamers leaning forward in their seats inspect the well made and foreign looking tech wear like headgear. A few showing excitement, others wariness and the rest a mix of both. Taeyong observed their reactions before he tapped his finger against the headgear absentmindedly.

“Well, to put it simply and go over it again just in case no one read the papers we sent out, which is understandable reading can be a drag. The headgear is safe and has been tested out already thoroughly, we already have a safety rating of five… out of five.”

“For the first time you get to wear it, someone will put it on for you. Then later on you’ll receive instructions on how to do it yourselves in future at home. I hope it is okay that you’ll all be using recliner chairs today instead of laying down, your bodies won’t be disturbed during your time in the game.”

“Now, enough talking. Who’s ready to play?” Taeyong finished his monologue with a tilted grin on his face as he raised an eyebrow towards his newly acquired team of well seasoned and popular gamers.

“Lead the way.” Mark was the one to speak for all eight of them giving the go ahead.

“Enthusiasm, I love it.” Taeyong replied spinning on his heels to leave the room expecting the eight to follow.

“This is some futuristic shit right here.” Donghyuck whispered where he stood with the group watching people set up and prepare the lounge they would be, while under during the game play.

“And we’re the first ones to get to experience it.” Jaemin moved to wrap his arms over both Jeno and Renjun’s shoulders as he pointed out their newest achievement.

“Let’s hope nothing weird happens and Donghyuck over here loses his last brain cell.” Renjun joked out, his friend opening his mouth to let out a retort but was cut off by the Ceo, Taeyong clapping his hands once leaving them clasped, an obvious habit at this point.

“So, everything is set up, please take a seat where your name card is, it has your gaming tag names on it. You’ll be geared up soon.” His words causing the young gamers to share glances.

Y/n being the first to move forward, spotting her gamer name tag easily, the others following as they found their respected spots.

Everyone sinking into the comfortable recliner seat awaiting. Y/n eyes shifting to watch the person beside her getting her tech wear headgear ready, before looking over the the recliner next to her to see Chenle lounging there looking bored out of his mind waiting, his feet swinging.

The corner of her lips tilting up in clear amusement before looking ahead of her to see Jisung, eyeing the way his hands gripped the recliner chairs armrests tightly most likely overthinking his position, the two catching eyes.

‘Relax, we are right here.’ She mouthed to him, nodding in Chenle’s direction to show they were only a few paces away in their chairs.

Jisung seemingly was able to understand what she mouthed as he relaxed slightly into the recliner, swallowing as his fingers smoothed out from their cramped position. Y/n giving him a small smile at him trying to calm down.

“Alright, try to move around too much while they put your headgear on, they’ll adjust it to be even more comfortable.” Taeyong’s voice diverted all eight of their attention.

Y/n doing her best not to flinch when the woman next to her got into her personal space, the techwear headgear in hand. Taking a deep inhale through her nose as the woman moved to place the headgear over her head. Her eye’s automatically fluttered shut at the sensation of something enclosing around her.

Though as the woman adjusted the headgear, it barely felt like she was wearing anything, only reminded she was by the slight weight difference then normal. Eye’s peeking open to watch the woman continue working only to flicker to the side subconsciously checking on her friends.

It had only taken two minutes for everyone’s headgear to be adjusted correctly before the people around then stood back. Taeyong leisurely strolling around watching, an amused smile etched on his face at the different reactions the eight had to the headgear, remembering it for later to write down for his notes.

“Alright, I’m assuming everyone is ready, the headgear has all been applied correctly. Now don’t get shocked, you’ll all hear a voice through your headsets that will count down from ten, a timer if you will, to let you know when you’ll be entered into the game.” Taeyong explained while moving around the room.

“How do we know if it worked?” Jaemin asked out from where he was reclined back comfortably, hand tapping against the armrest out of habit, used to moving his hands.

“Trust me you’ll know.” Taeyong hummed out shaking his head amused by the question as if it had been a funny joke.

“Doyoung please start the countdown.” Taeyong nodded towards someone further away in the lounge near what looked like a normal high quality Pc setup.

“Hello this is Neo, you will be transported into Project Impact after the ten second countdown is complete. Enjoy the journey, have fun and don’t forget Neo is always with you every step of the way.” A female voice rang through all eight headgears.

“Ten.”

“We just got warned but her voice nearly gave me a heart attack.” Renjun huffed out, gaining a laugh from Chenle.

“Nine.”

“Don’t worry Renjun, no need to die in real life, I bet you’ll be the first out in the game.” Chenle barked out, his high pitched laugh following.

“Seven.”

“Careful Lele, Renjun might just throw in pettiness if you keep that up.” Donghyuck joined in on teasing Renjun.

“Six.”

“No one is throwing.” Mark sternly warned out to everyone, wincing at the thought of how that would look in Taeyong’s eyes after giving them such a good contract.

“Who did the voiceover? She sounds familiar.” Jaemin asked out to no one in particular.

“Five.”

“Of course the first thing you say about the game we haven’t entered yet is about a woman.” Jeno quipped from beside Jaemin.

“Four.”

“Woman supremacy.” Jaemin replied with a large grin shrugging even if Jeno wasn’t looking at him, his speech slightly slurring being hit by a wave of tiredness.

“Four.”

“For once you said something right Nana.” Y/n spoke out from her side of the room, not bothering to look over at him as she felt so comfortable all of a sudden as if her body was sinking into the recliner.

“Three.”

“My eyes feel heavy.” Jisung barely managed to slur out, eyes falling shut only for him to try snapping them back open multiple times not being able to fight the sleepiness looming around him.

“Two.”

“Hmm mmm.” Renjun hummed out wanting to say something but his lips wouldn’t move in favour of staying closed as his eyes followed suit closing on themselves.

“One.”

“One.” Taeyong whispered to himself repeating the animated woman’s voice with her gazing intensely at the young adults who were all still.

“This will be fun.” Taeyong’s grin returned, turning to stroll his way over to where Doyoung sat, eyeing the screens, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

“Welcome home Player 1, Mork.”

“Welcome home Player 2, Injeolmi.”

“Welcome home Player 3, SamoyedJ.”

“Welcome home Player 4, Fullsun.”

“Welcome home Player 5, Nana.”

“Welcome home Player 6, Dolphinlele.”

“Welcome home Player 7, Jwijwi.”

“Welcome home Player 8, T/n.”

Each individual player hearing their own greetings and not each other as they all laid spawned into random locations of the room, some in sitting positions while others had been laying.

Mark’s eyes snapping open as he took in his surroundings, alarm bells blaring once he did not feel or have impaired vision from the headgear, hands fling up to feel nothing covering his face.

Freezing at the realisation he could feel and touch himself as if it was real, taking in a deep breath. Body flying up from the couch he’d been sitting on, swearing he had felt the leather against his hands as he pushed off the seat with his hands.

“Holy shit it’s like we are really here, like this is just normal life.” Donghyuck’s voice grabbed Mark's attention as he looked over to see his friend getting up from where he’d been laying on the wooden floor.

“It’s so realistic that it’s creepy.” Renjun muttered a shiver running down his back at how one second he felt as though he was going into a deep state of sleep but the next he was wide awake in a whole new setting.

“It’s like a dream, but I can feel everything.” Jisung gasped out in wonder from where he sat on the wooden floor next to Donghyuck, moving to touch the leg of the table next to him curiously.

“It looks like I’m seeing you all exactly like beforehand, no shitty graphics.” Chenle commented on the next hyper realistic part of this all. It was unlike any video game not animated aspects, like they’d been transported into a film instead.

“You mean I still have to see all your faces in high definition, what a shame I thought my eyes could take a break.” Y/n joked out to keep herself from freaking out at how realistic everything seemed.

“I’m going to pretend you meant that as a compliment and not a dis.” Jaemin muttered moving to stretch his body, groaning as his back popped satisfyingly another weird realistic feature.

“Welcome Players, this is your home base. Once you entered Project Impact this house was chosen based on your internet personas and has been automatically set as your respawning point.” The female’s voice floated in the air as if right in front of them yet was actually being transmitted through their headgear back in reality.

“Each player has a private room that has been modeled exactly like your own bedrooms from what we already know about you, courtesy of our lovely Ceo of Neo as a sort of gift, not all players will receive such a gift, the rest of the house is based on your aesthetic taste preferences combined.” The voice continued.

“Well that’s not entirely concerning or creepy.” Renjun muttered.

“Over time you will be able to renovate and change things in your homebase. This goes for your own appearance too. Your overall body types and facial features will stay true to your real selves but customisable areas include things such as eye colour, hair colour and hairstyle, accessories and wardrobe clothing items.”

“Once again Ceo of Neo has gifted you with some of your most known wardrobe clothing and accessories items you wear on stream and in daily life through social media already, with a couple of extra clothing items added in for some flair.”

“As per what has been already discussed, you will be going into the game blind, not knowing what exactly the game play is focused on or rather how many possibilities are in store for you all here at Project Impact. With that I will leave you with a good luck, have fun exploring and if you need help don’t be shy and request it.”

With that the eight were left in silence before a sudden song floated through a speaker nearby, a pop song that had been recently charting at a nice low volume.

“Fuck me, this is going to be so much fun.” Donghyuck cheered flopping onto the beige couch nearby, accidentally tugging Mark to fall onto the couch with him, Mark grunting having felt the impact.

“You’ve got blue hair again Jisung!” Chenle cackled, pointing at the confused friend who rushed over to a mirror, his own eyes widening at the fact he did indeed have his old hairstyle back.

Jisung had dyed his whole head of hair blue after passing a sub count on his stream a few months prior, having gained the nickname blueberry from it. He remembered the way he’d gotten his hair bleached at a hair salon but streamed at home with Chenle and Y/n as they helped lather his hair in the rich blue colour. He’d only recently dyed it back to brown.

“Guess Taeyong liked your blue hair better on you, Blueberry.” Y/n chimed in on the teasing as he groaned at the nickname popping up.

“I think we were loaded in with in-game clothing items.” Jeno observed looking down at his outfit in interest. Wearing a striped knitted sweater underneath a block blue coloured long sleeve, with fashionable blue flared jeans with added random rips and converse shoes. His own personal necklace he wore often, one he’d worn today was still hanging from his neck with an added ring on his finger.

“You think? I don’t wear leather jackets.” Renjun snarked out towards Jeno shifting his shoulders back at the leather feeling against him. Renjun had a layered white, purple shirt with black mesh over it and a leather Neo logo’d leather jacket paired with black denim shorts, white calf height socks and black white sneakers. Not yet noticing the added necklaces and ring lip piercing on him.

“We can figure out how to change our hair and clothing later, we should look around first.” Mark suggested getting a round of agreement from the rest as they dispersed around their so-called homebase.

Y/n made her way down another hallway, feet stopping at a door that caught her attention, the door and doorframe itself familiar. It looked exactly like her own in her apartment. Raising an eyebrow at it, wondering just how extensively had Taeyong put research into their lives. He must have been confident in them agreeing to the contract as it had been only a month since they’d signed the deal which wouldn’t have been long enough to go into this type of meticulous work.

Shaking away the thoughts she grabbed the door handle pulling down on it before pushing the door inwards revealing her room. Her jaw nearly dropped at the sight in front of her own eyes. It was scarily accurate to her own room, she’d vlogged her room before so she shouldn’t be too surprised but it was still something her head had trouble processing.

A few items were not there, which was understandable as not everything could be placed in the game in precise accuracy but it was still very much what her room looked like. Entering the room properly now as she moved around the room until she saw her closet.

Rushing over and pushing the door open to be met with familiar and new clothing items.

“Wardrobe Unlocked.” The female voice floated through her head as she moved to touch different clothing items.

“This is way too realistic.” She muttered to herself as her fingers grazed over one of her favourite hoodies, a comfort hoodie she’d be sure to wear sometime soon in game, but took a step back, closing the closet, deciding she’d start off with her normal in-game clothing first.

Taking the time now to look at her own in-game clothing. A white crop top with black washed out ripped denim jeans, paired with white black shoes a cross on each one. A necklace paired with two rings and a grey satchel bag as accessories.

“Usertag Fullsun is requesting entry.” The female voice spoke once again causing Y/n to look over at her room door blanking when she saw it was closed again, she hadn’t closed it when she entered but she assumed it must have automatically closed.

“Um, request granted?” Y/n says unsurely into the open air, seemingly the command has worked as her door swings open with Donghyuck’s force.

“Y/N! My room- whoa.” Donghyuck cutting off his own sentence looking around in amazement at how they’d gotten her room right, or at least very accurately.

“Stop gawking, we should meet up with the others, they're probably waiting by now.” Y/n answered in return, moving to grab his arm, feeling the material of his loose almost see through knitted sweater as she dragged him towards the exit of her room.

“Look! It’s the plushie I got you when you hit a ‘mil on YouTube!” Donghyuck nearly squealed out pointing towards the plushie on her bed as he’s dragged out.

The two entered the hallway, door closing by itself. Both shared a glance at this but their attention was stolen away from where Chenle was knocking furiously against a door with the name tag Jwijwi.

“For once Chenle can’t storm into our rooms.” Y/n pointed out amused by the sight of the impatient brunette.

“I’m going to pretend to be amused with you like I wasn’t knocking exactly like that on your door a minute ago.” Donghyuck grinned wiggling his eyebrows animatedly causing Y/n to purse her lips realising he was the same as Chenle in that regard.

“Lele, come on, we're going to the living room. Sungie you too.” Y/n called out causing Chenle to look over just as Jisung’s door opened and he walked out, having heard her request.

“I hate the fact I need permission to enter your rooms.” Chenle grumbled out as the four grouped up to walk back.

“We’ll see if we can change that later in controls or something, let’s just map everything out first.” Y/n reassured her impatient friend as they made it back to the living room.

Mark and Renjun were both at the table looking over what seemed to be a map. Jeno and Jaemin enter the living room from a different entrance.

“What’s that?” Jeno asked out curiously as all five moved over to surround the table as well.

“It’s a map of the surrounding neighbourhood, looks like we’ve been placed in a more Eastern setting.

Everyone peered down at the map noting slight Easter eggs here and there of street names and store names. Some from Neo’s old games all the way to personal popular moments on social media from their own lives.

“They named a street after Chenle’s dog, why?” Renjun blanked at the sight causing Chenle to nudge his shoulder thinking it was a great idea, loving it.

“Daegal street sounds fantastic thank you very much, it’s probably the best street in the area.” Chenle defended his dog’s honor.

“Should we take a look outside?” Mark offered out to the rest of the group, silence enveloping them besides the music playing in the background before Jaemin, Donghyuck and Chenle bounded towards the front entrance of the home.

“I think that means yes.” Jisung sighed out as the rest followed.

The three were waiting for them at the front entrance, not having left yet. For two main purposes. One being they wanted to experience this as a group all together but the other reason was the unspoken leadership role Mark had taken in their friend group whenever it came to gaming.

Whenever the group had streamed together on games and such, Mark was always allocated the leadership role in the group without question or even a vote. It was a natural thing that had happened between the friend group. In and out of view of their online fan bases.

Mark moved to the front as his hand moved to touch the cool metal handle on the door, taking a quick breath in before opening it to reveal the outside world. A whole new area for them to explore.

“Welcome to Dream town.” The female’s voice greeted the players to the spawned town.

“Well that’s not very original.” Jeno pointed out as they took cautious steps out. The group had developed the group name Dreamies from the respected fan bases after they’d noticed the gamers had developed friendships and streamed/gamed often together. A whole new fan based solely for each one of them as a whole.

“Be happy it’s not Chenle’s dog’s name.” Renjun quipped back as they walked down the steps of the house.

“Oh we have cars.” Jeno couldn’t help but grin, adding on desperately “Please tell me we can drive them to.” Leaving the group towards a car parked outside their home assuming it was theirs, confirming it when the license plate had JN230400. That screamed his initials and birthdate.

Of course the one who was known for talking about his car would have his car parked out front, unbeknownst to the other’s their cars were in the garage, something they’d find out later on.

“I can literally feel the breeze against my face.” Jisung spoke out eyes closing as he felt the sun soaking into his skin and the nice faint cool breeze brushing against his face. It was unreal how much they could experience.

“That’s probably just Taeyong blowing in your face back at the company.” Chenle teased out ruffling his friends hair, starting a playful fight as they started roughhousing from Chenle ruining Jisung’s brief peace.

“As fun as this is, something tells me the game makers are just letting us explore uninterrupted before getting properly into the game.” Mark commented, arms crossed watching the rough housing going on.

“So what you're saying is enjoy our time exploring, hm?” Jaemin cheekily added on moving to wrap an arm around Mark’s shoulder.

“I wonder if we’ll be able to see our stats soon.” Renjun thought out loud causing Y/n to look over at him thinking it over.

“Please show me my stats Neo.” Y/n tested out loud blinking when she saw vividly in her own head a sort of screen like image.

“Here are your current stats, this will be updated regularly according to your actions.” The female voice spoke out to only her.

The boys watched her, it looked like she was dazed focusing on something.

Her states were interesting to say the least. She had a health bar, hunger bar, hygiene bar, energy bar, predetermined stats like physical stats= strength, dexterity and constitution, mental stats= Intelligence, wisdom and charisma. An area for abilities also listed. Her abilities she’d already had were basic human skill sets with a note ending on how abilities would increase or be added depending on activities done.

Before she could see more she shook the thought away, turning to look at the other three.

“Okay that worked, really weird vibe from that but I could see my thoughts like an image in my head.” Y/n explained before giving a simple run down of what it looked like.

“Interesting, looks like they have thought about a lot, although they did already say the game was technically finished I’m sure we’ll find a few bugs and glitches around.” Renjun claimed about Neo.

“Every game has a bug, no matter what.” Jaemin agreed, grinning as he added on “And with our luck we’ll walk right into it.”

“With our luck something is bound to happen.” Y/n groaned out not knowing just how ironic her words would be.

“Someone go find their car! I want us to take a drive around the place! Driving will be faster!” Jeno shouted out from where he was sitting on top of the hood of his new car, already excited to see if he could customise and upgrade his own car throughout the time they were going to play the game.

“Jesus I only trust him in real life with cars, did anyone remember the time we played a car simulator with him?” Jaemin shivered at the reminder of Jeno’s chaotic driving that game night, an off-stream thing. The group tried to have two personal game nights a month to themselves without people watching and breathing down their necks.

“Well, this place is pretty realistic so I’m assuming it will be safer than that… hopefully.” Mark replied nose scrunching at the thought of Jeno’s reckless driving if it wasn’t the case.

“We should get Y/n to drive- Alright I guess that was already decided by her.” Renjun suggested only to look to his right to see Y/n had already disappeared from their little group off to go find a car, hopefully her own.

Y/n walked around for five minutes before finding the garage, grunting as she ended up going back into the house to find it. Walking through the door, eyebrows raised seeing that the garage looked way bigger on the inside. Whistling to herself as she noticed all the different cars. Stopping in front of a tarp, grabbing the ends and pulling it off.

“Personal car unlocked.” The voice spoke out, causing her to make a mental note to ask the omnipresent voice if it had a name.

“Holy shit.” She muttered to herself gazing at the car.

It was a Subaru WRX, in blue. She shook her head with an amused grin realising she’d shown the car on stream before saying this would be the car she chose to buy if she ever got the chance one day.

Moving to the side of the car she wondered if she needed a key only for the female voice to speak again, reminding her to check her inventory, causing her to furrowed her eyebrows in confusion but just thinking about her inventory seemed to do the trick as an inventory flashed through her head, keys being one of the things in it.

Taking a wild guess she focused on the keys, nearly jumping when keys appeared in the palm of her hand, holding it up in front of her face, analysing it before unlocking the door and sliding in.

Her hands smoothing over the leather steering wheel before letting out a laugh of pure excitement. Clicking the engine on, feet automatically going to the clutch and slowly letting the clutch pressure release after taking the car out of park and into drive.

“New ability/skill set unlocked”

It was exactly like driving in real life, her car slowly moving forwards as her car grumbled to life moving forward, Y/n making sure not to damage any of the parked cars as she made her way towards the garage door that automatically opened.

Driving slowly down the drive while pulling down all her windows, a light breeze entering the car. Looking out the car driver side window she peered towards the boys, hearing Jeno hollered out in excitement to see her driving her dream car.

“Get in losers we’re going exploring.” Y/n raised her voice for everyone to hear. Using a Mean girls reference with a slight twist on it.

“On Wednesdays we apparently drive blue cars.” Renjun commented in return having been the first to get to her car, opening the passenger seat to get in. Clicking his seatbelt on after moving over the middle of the console to put her seatbelt on for her as she’d forgotten to out of excitement, not scolding her knowing this.

“I’m starting to like this game.” Y/n hummed back as Chenle and Jisung got in the back, her foot on the clutch as she changed gears back to neutral as she waited for Mark, Donghyuck and Jaemin to get into Jeno’s car, who tapped his steering wheel impatiently.

“You’re going to let him drive off first?” Jisung asked as he put on his seatbelt, safety in mind, asking about Jeno to her.

“Yeah, less of a risk of him driving into my car that way.”

“In-game car, Y/n. You’ll be missing it the moment we’re out of the game.” Chenle pointed out moving to lean in between the gap to face her.

Renjun’s hand shooting out to push against Chenle’s head towards the back seats.

“Shut up and buckle up, it’s in game but who knows how much damage we receive and what it’ll feel like.” Renjun scolded the younger friend. Who grumbled in return but did put his seatbelt on.

The sudden topic was something they really did need to think about. If everything in the game felt so realistic would getting hurt be like that as well? Y/n didn’t think so as the Ceo of Neo, Taeyong did claim the safety rating was five out of five so they must only get told their health stat would go down or take damage. Instead of thinking further on it Y/n focused on playing the game.

Jeno started driving causing Y/n to change into first gear while slowly releasing her clutch after her foot left the brake pedal, manovoring out of the drive. Even with them being the only ones on the road she still looked and indicated, on muscle memory.

“Where are we heading?” Jisung asked out as he peered out of the open backseat window.

“Wherever Jeno wants I guess.” Y/n replied as her hand moved to change into second gear after hitting 30 km/h.

“Mark is in the passenger seat, he has the map with him, he put it in his back pocket before we went outside.” Renjun also revealed.

“Looks like driving is realistic enough, Jeno hasn’t crashed yet.” Y/n pointed out changing into third gear after observing the fact Jeno was speeding up, Mark must have found a spot they wanted to go on map in town and was giving him directions by the confident style he showed from speeding up.

“Just think about all these houses, they will be home bases for other players one day.” Jisung pointed out as he observed the differently styled houses in the area.

“In a couple of months if everything goes well.” Renjun hummed out.

Y/n changing back into second gear as they rounded a corner and back up to third gear once they continued along. Renjun moved to turn on the radio of the car for some ambience. He was one of the four people of the group that was in charge of the music playlist usually during hang outs so it was natural for him to do so.

The group drove for five minutes before Jeno started slowing down. Y/n following his pace gazing around for tell tale signs of what exactly they were arriving too.

“Looks like the store area of the town.” Renjun pointed out as everyone took in the new area of the town.

“Can we loot in this game?” Chenle made an offhand comment as Jisung gave him a warning look.

“Your sticky fingers always cause trouble.” Jisung grumbled out in distaste.

“Hands in pockets Chenle when we arrive.” Y/n joked out as if Chenle was a kid, having remembered how her own mum used to make her do so as a child not to touch or break anything in stores.

“My number one haters right here.” Chenle huffed out pouting with crossed arms.

Jeno started indicating towards a car park area, causing Y/n to do the same. Shift down to first gear as she turned into the car park, driving further in compared to Jeno before putting the car in reverse, easily parking as only a few cars were parked in the area.

Putting the car in park, she turned off the engine, causing Chenle to pop his seatbelt off straight away, opening his door to race off towards where Jeno was still parking. Y/n grumbling about Chenle not even closing the door. All three inside unbuckled before getting out themselves, Jisung rounding the corner to close the door Chenle hadn’t.

“Let’s see what they picked for us to look at.” Renjun offered as he waited with Jisung as Y/n locked her car.

“Probably had a few stores in mind, but came to the main store street so we could get the general layout for what we’ll need going further into the game.” Y/n replied while the trio walked through the car park towards the other’s hopping out of Jeno’s car.

“Jeno has an automatic car Y/n!” Donghyuck shouted out towards the trio that approached, already cackling while holding his stomach after seeing Y/n reaction, her nose scrunching in dismay at Jeno’s car.

“Disappointed but not surprised Jeno.” Y/n addressed him as she finally got over right as Jeno punched Donghyuck in the arm in retaliation.

“I didn’t choose that!” Jeno claimed loudly as Donghyuck yelped looking disturbed, eyes unfocused.

“You ass! My health was depleted by 2 % just then!” He zoned back in, shaking off the image in his head as the female voice told him his health status.

“Well how was I supposed to know that would deplete your health, I didn’t even try hitting you hard!” Jeno argued back, Renjun shoving his face away from Donghyucks with his hand to stand in front of the said ‘injured’ friend.

“What did it feel like?” Renjun asked, curious on how much they’d be able to feel pain in the gameplay.

“What? Not even an are you okay Channie?” Donghyuck whined out offended but grumbled out the answer “It didn’t feel like what it usually feels like getting punched by Jeno, felt weird like a fuzzy feeling. How do I even describe it? Like my body didn’t like it but it also didn’t hurt.”

“So we feel something but not exactly pain, when getting hurt to indicate we have taken damage.” Renjun voiced out how they’d know about taking damage without constantly checking their health stat.

“Coolio, can we go check out the shops now?” Chenle interrupted, getting impatient to look around.”

“Outside message ‘Out of three hours you have two hours left to continue exploring.’ Delivered.” The female's voice floated through their heads at the same time.

“Hey do you have a name, automated voice person?” Jaemin asked out loud, blinking as the group watched before he gave them a sheepish smile.

“They called her Jayu.” Jaemin explained while he shrugged his shoulders, showing off that the question did help them.

“Has it really been an hour already?” Jisung asked out, shocked at just how fast time passed already.

“Yes, now let’s go before we waste anymore time!” Chenle loudly shut down Jisung’s attempt at conversation, tugging his friend into a walk.

“If we break off please go in at least pairs!” Mark called out worriedly before adding on “We’re regrouping back at the carpark in one hour!”

Donghyuck placed his hands on Mark’s shoulders to push him towards the car park exit having picked him, already talking his friends' ears off.

Renjun seeing who was left, quickly grabbing Y/n’s wrist not wanting to deal with the other 00 liners nearby.

“Hey you already got to be a passenger princess in her car.” Jaemin argued, tugging Renjun’s hand away from her wrist.

“Exactly, plus the people who drove here should stick together.” Jeno sneakily replied moving to rest his arm on Y/n’s shoulder who gave him a look at the bodily made up excuse.

“Shut up Jeno, that was an ass excuse.” Renjun scoffed out before pointing at Y/n.

“Pick someone before those two start brawling.” He suggested letting his hand drop.

Y/n humming as she thought it over. She would have the most peace with Renjun, but didn’t like the idea of leaving Jaemin and Jeno together and alone in any type of store; that was bound to be a disaster.

“For the sake of us not breaking anything in the stores I’m gonna have to pick one of them, Jaemin come on.” She decided, causing Jaemin to pump his fist in the area before running to catch up with Y/n who’d already started to leave.

Jaemin turned to look back at Renjun and Jeno giving them a smug look before talking with Y/n waving his arms around as he does.

“She’s right about you guys being a chaotic duo when left alone.” Renjun quipped at Jeno before moving away, Jeno tempted to shove Renjun’s shoulder at his words but wanted not to get hurt in return so he left it be trailing after him.

Outside the gameplay back in the Neo company building Taeyong sat at the desk with Doyoung. Takeout on the table.

“This is going well, put some money into their credit as a gift while they roam the stores.” Taeyong commented, his eyes glued to one of the many screens showing each pair of duo’s walking around.

“Careful, they might get used to your generosity.” Doyoung warned but completed the task given to him anyway.

“It’s their first day Doyoung, let them have fun.” Taeyong grinned at his friend, who’d been beside him since he’d started the company.

“It seems like you’re having more fun watching them then they are playing the game.” Doyoung teased out with a scoff, hands typing away.

“It’s refreshing seeing the game running after working on it for years.” Taeyong hummed out eyes training on a specific pair of the group. The pink haired and brunette haired duo finally made it to one of the stores.

“Careful Taeyong, your favouritism is showing.” Doyoung noticed where Taeyong’s eyes had been staring at the most throughout the last hour.

“Can’t help it I guess.” Taeyong’s reply was cheeky, as he gave his friend a wink.

“It’s going to be fun watching them when the real fun kicks in.”

Prologue | Chapter one | Chapter two

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @rotinyzen @wonyoungmywife @snflwrhaerecs4u @thegreenlynx @serinebsblog @hanniehq @delululi @bubusebu @bunnychui @molensworld @morkiee @marvelahsobx @kaciebello @kgneptun

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indestructibleheart · 1 year ago

Text

Hi, fam! Okay, so I'm going to be out at an appointment tomorrow morning, so I'm kicking this off a little bit early. It's technically Wednesday in several timezones and very nearly Wednesday in mine. I'm... also a bit eager to share this, ngl.

I know that I've shared a lot of angst lately, but I swear that's not all I'm doing. 😅 In fact, the actor/playwright AU decided to wallop me in the face out of nowhere after sitting in my WIP folder for months. I'm really excited about it, so I'm gonna share the first scene!

(Also, those of you who have been to New York with me will recognize my favorite brunch spot in this scene lmao.)

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You probably didn't even know I was in the room, but I noticed you straight away. You were talking with your friends, happy and animated and fully alive—a person living in dimensions I couldn’t access—and so beautiful. Your hair was longer then. You were the center of attention, but you weren’t afraid. You had a yellow ipê-amarelo in your pocket. I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen; I'd better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire.

INT. MOM'S KITCHEN & BAR - HELL'S KITCHEN - LATE MORNING

"I'm telling y'all," Alex is saying, punctuating with dangerously large bites of his pancake burrito. "The dude's a dick."

It's been two hours since the nightmare audition, but Alex has been on this tirade since June and Nora first slid into the retro diner chairs across from him (at least forty-five minutes ago).

They're at Mom's: a restaurant-bar in midtown that can only be described as millennial nostalgia incarnate. The trio fell in love with it two years back—post-karaoke, stumbling in right before closing—when Alex saw God in their Fruity Pebble pancakes. Since then, it's been his favorite place to eat his feelings.

Mom's is just really fucking comforting in general, honestly; whether it's the televisions cycling through episodes of 'Rugrats,' 'Dexter's Laboratory,' and 'Hey, Arnold!' or the rainbow straws and Lisa-Frank-looking menus, Alex can't be sure. It doesn't hurt that they've made friends with several of the waitstaff, including an eccentric bartender, Pez, whose pink hair and painted nails fit right in with the decor.

Today, it's the combination of breakfast sausage, bacon, eggs and cheese wrapped up in a syrup-soaked pancake that's really doing something for him. It could also be the margarita the size of his face, which Pez placed in front of him before making himself uncharacteristically scarce. But it's fine. He's probably just busy.

Alex won't admit it out loud, but what really helps is having June and Nora here to talk to… even though Nora is scrolling on her phone.

"I'm sorry," June says. She pokes an ice cube with her straw, and Alex watches as it bobs around her mimosa like a buoy. "That sounds like it sucked, but if he's really that rude… maybe you didn't want to work with him anyway."

Nora doesn't look up as she pops a home fry into her mouth.

"Several sources say he's difficult to work with," she adds, evidently reading about Henry on the internet. "Though, in his defense, his dad did just die, like, three years ago… and there was that whole thing when he came out after. Remember?"

Alex does remember. Henry's grandmother, Mary Mountchristen, runs a pretty major company that used to own half the theatres on the West End. When Henry came out last year, she tried blacklisting his shows from her properties to punish him—which totally backfired when it got around. At least a dozen other queer writers and producers started talking about how they were also denied the space, and Mary was stoned on the streets of the theatre district. Like, metaphorically.

Alex, Nora, and June had just moved to New York, but between June's position at Newsday and both Alex and Nora on the audition circuit, it was all anyone in their new circles could talk about. They were some of the first to know when the Mountchristens were bought out of their properties and Henry moved to the States.

This show is the first of Henry's being produced here—and it's autobiographical, which Alex has to admit is pretty fucking baller. So, yeah, Nora's not wrong. He has reason to be standoffish. Still, it doesn't explain why Alex was only halfway through his audition monologue when Henry abruptly stood up and exited stage left as if pursued by a bear.

He shoves another forkful into his mouth. "It's just, like, they're the only people who let me into the room," he says, barely finishing chewing. "Nobody wants to take me seriously, and I really thought this was my shot, you know?"

June and Nora both know Alex is having a hard time landing serious roles after growing up on a sitcom—Nora more than most, as his former co-star. What they don't know is that losing this role, specifically, feels like a kick to the stomach. From the moment Alex saw the script, he wanted to be a part of it. He can't even explain why, and now he'll never figure it out. Henry wouldn't give him a chance.

"It wasn't your only shot, and you know it." Nora fixes him with a look. "Seriously, I get it—I do—but it's just one play, buddy."

June nods. "Something will happen for you, baby brother."

At that, Alex finally groans. "Okay, calling me baby brother doesn't help me feel better about the entertainment industry infantili—"

"—itty bitty, teeny weeny—"

Alex throws a home fry at her face.

It bounces off her forehead and into the giant gauntlet holding her mimosa with a very unappetizing splash. Just as Alex throws his hands into the air with a victorious whoop, his phone buzzes on the table.

A glance is all it takes for him to see that it's his agent, Zahra.

"Damn," he says, deflating. There goes that upswing. "You answer it."

June balks. "Me?"

"I don't need to hear how fucking badly it went. Trust me, I got the message." Alex blinks innocently, like he's six years old again, asking her to lie to their mom about that broken vase. "Please, Bug? Besides, Zahra actually likes you."

"Everyone likes me." June rolls her eyes, but she caves—answering the phone with a haughty, "Alex Claremont-Diaz's office," before breaking into a smile. "Yeah, Z. It's me… No, Alex is feeling a little sensitive today."

(He throws another home fry at her. This one misses.)

To her credit, June's face remains totally blank as Zahra no doubt tells her how Alex insulted Henry Fox's name and all of his inbred ancestors just by showing up, or whatever—which is extremely annoying and unhelpful—but, once she says goodbye and sets the phone back down on the table, her face breaks out into a grin.

"Guess you didn't suck too bad," she says. "They want you for the part."

He doesn't know if it's Nora throwing herself at him or the shock that knocks him onto the floor.

Tagging some lovelies. If you haven't been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @barbiediaz, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @junebugclaremontdiaz, @kiwiana-writes, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

#wip:snippet #m:wip #fic: breaking character

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 3 months ago

Note

I noticed that you don't have any dabihawks smut fics so I would like to request one. Thank you and have a great day!

Oh dear reader!! This request inspired one of my fave fics I've written to date - I hope you enjoy!! 27 pages of pure HotWings smut ❤️

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Bed Chem. | Dabi x Hawks 🌶🔥🦅