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hyunjilicious · 4 years ago

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a helping hand [henry cavill] - part 2

A/n: I’m sorry it took me so long. I don’t like how this part turned out, at all, but I rewrote it 3 times and I can’t even think about these scenes anymore without getting annoyed. I’m just happy it’s finished and that I can start working on part 3 (that is, if you like this one enough to want to keep reading lol)

Summary: After you post on onlyfans a video starring another man, Henry decides to take matters into his own hands. (cameo: Steve Rogers) KINKY 4k

Warnings: spanking, daddy kink, dirty talk, mentions of smut and masturbation (male), humiliation/degradation kink, groping, mentions of porn and filming pornographic material, stalker-ish/obsessed Henry. (also tumblr crashed when I first tried to upload this so maybe that a sign this sucks)

You can read part 1 here!

The sight brought down a storm upon Henry's mind. He stood there, mouth agape, watching the screen, unable to believe his eyes. It was one thing to post videos of yourself on the Internet, but to have someone else take part in them was too much. At least for Henry. Still smart and composed, he realised there wasn't anything he could do about it, but nevertheless, he was determined to not let this shit slide for much longer.

As much as he wanted to hunt down that man who dared put his hands on you, Henry gathered himself, took a deep breath and closed the onlyfans page. He was perfectly aware that just the right amount of you could get him to lose his sense of control and do things he'd later regret. Still, in desperate need to see you, he grabbed his phone, eyes scheming over your socials, only to see that the last time you had been active was 7 minutes ago. So, without much consideration, he started typing.

"You up?"

"Yep. Finishing up an essay. Coffee in 30??"

Oh, and how deeply that hurt him. "Of course" he sent you, and then checked again the post you made at 3am. '...I'll go to sleep right now, edit it for you when I wake up...'

You were lying? Why were you lying to him? It drove him insane. Henry felt like he couldn't sit down anymore, like he had no chance to catch his breath. He couldn't think straight, so he wasn't really to blame for what he did next.

Henry's fingers flew over the keyboard, accessing Facebook and logging into your account, desperate to see whether he could find out who the man in your video was. And it was as easy as it could've been, considering your last 5 conversations were with the girl friends he already knew about. But somewhere among them, he spotted an unfamiliar name - Steve R., and instantly clicked and opened the conversation. His blood started to boil when the multitude of emojis you sent reached his eyes, but he scrolled up, until he found the beginning of yesterday's conversation.

It was started by you, and with a request. You were blunt and went straight for it, asking him with just one message to be in the video with you. There was no trace of your relationship with him on the Internet, so Henry had no idea regarding the nature of yours and Steve's connection. Judging by the way you addressed him, he could easily assume the man was nothing more than a fuck buddy. Even though it angered him, Henry kept his calm and decided to go about this with care. It would only be a matter of time until he removed Steve from your life. But for now, he just had to keep digging for information.

Steve R.: "Exactly what do you need me to do, baby? Spank you? In front of the camera? Are you serious?"

"Yes, Steve. Come on!! I know we haven't seen each other in a while, but still... 😇 when it comes to these things, you know me better than anyone"

Henry scoffed. Who the fuck was this guy?

Steve R.: "I know, baby"

Steve R.: "What's in it for me?"

Smoke came out of Henry's ears, and the fact that you acted so sweet and innocent made him want to smash his keyboard.

"Whatever you want! Just do this for me!!! Please!!!! 🥺😊😋"

Steve R.: "Ofc I'll do it, sweetheart. I got you"

"Thank you thank you thank you 😘"

Steve R.: "I should be the one to thank you"

Steve R.: "Send me the location and I'll be over there asap"

After that, your address followed and then that was it. Determined to dig deeper, Henry started to scroll up again, wanting to find out as much as he could about this mysterious man. He didn't get a chance to lurk too much before this computer alerted him of a notification, the onlyfans tab glowing orange. His attention was instantly won, smiling devilishly as he checked the content.

Posted 30 seconds ago, was the new video. Ready to kick back and enjoy, Henry pressed the play button, ready to go at it with an open mind.

He reluctantly accepted the fact that there was another man in it with you, but he decided to enjoy it nevertheless. The video started, displaying Steve seated on the couch, thighs suggestively parted. He had a pair of black dress pants on, dangerously stretched over his massive thighs. A white, elegant shirt hugged his visibly sculpted torso, the top two buttons undone to show just a hint of chest hair. Quite a sight, but all Henry saw was trash. With his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a silver watch on his wrist and a pinky ring on, Steve patted his thigh, cueing your entrance.

When Henry saw you, he felt his breath reach a new, sudden level of difficulty. With the shortest of skirts barely managing to cover your ass and a mostly see-through shirt on your top half, you made your way to him in such an angelic way that Henry couldn't believe his eyes.

You looked like happiness personified, and it came in such a painful contraction to what you were about to do, that it twisted Henry's mind in such a perverse way, his cock nearly twitched just by seeing you.

When you were about to bend over Steve's thigh, he grabbed your chin and stopped you mid action, his lips slamming against your as his free hand lewdly caressed your ass. He flung the skirt over your hips, your flimsy underwear on full display.

Attentive to the events unfolding on the screen, Henry found his cock, teasingly rubbing it over the material of his pajama pants. His mouth watered when he felt the sensibility in his tip, actually believing this would be easier than he initially anticipated.

"Are you going to be Daddy's good little girl, or do I have to make this fucking hurt?" Steve asked and Henry almost threw up.

"Yes, Daddy. I'll be good" you mewled, wiggling your feet.

"Let's see" the man menacingly chuckled, releasing a sharp slap against your ass that made you yelp out in pain.

At this point, about 30 seconds in that was, Henry was already losing his mind. It was as if you took a trip inside his dreams and decided to play out his fantasies. The only problem was that you did it with another man. It was next to impossible for him to keep this going.

"Can you count?" Steve taunted, his hand traveling all over the back of your thighs, your exposed ass and between your legs.

"Yes, Daddy" you eagerly nodded and Henry almost threw up.

"I wouldn't be surprised if a dumb slut like you didn't know how to" Steve chuckled, "But it's ok, that's how we like our girls. Dumb and pretty"

"Thank you, Daddy"

Henry couldn't believe his eyes. He refused to accept the fact that a random man got to play with your innocence like that. You were his sweet little girl. And if until now he pushed through heroically, when literal yelps of pain started erupting from your lips as the blonde man slapped your ass hard enough to rock your whole frame, Henry's blood ran cold.

But no matter how hard the jealousy had hit him, the video was still pushing his limits of self control. It was still what he always wanted to see. When he reached inside his pants and grabbed his cock, a low grunt of early satisfaction left his lips. He once again found himself picturing you, willing to please him, but this time, he didn't get to go too far. The buzzing sound of his doorbell rang through his apartment, and he never stood up faster.

Cock still hard and completely visible through his pants, Henry slapped the pause button and minimized the browser, before springing to his feet and rushing to the door.

"Henry!" you exclaimed as soon as he came into view. He looked somehow tired, but it was easy to tell there was something else bothering him. "You didn't answer your phone" you pouted.

"Yeah, sorry" he shook his head, a few sweaty curls falling against his forehead. "I was busy with something. What's up?"

You raised your eyebrows and pointed to the door of your apartment, "You said you'd come over? Coffee? Remember?"

"Oh, shit, yeah" Henry cringed, rubbing his forehead. "I'll be over in 10 minutes, that ok?"

"Sure" you beamed, completely oblivious to the way he just tried to get rid of you. With utter nonchalance, you pushed your way past him and strolled into the kitchen.

"You wanna wait here?" he muttered.

"Yeah... Is that a problem? I can leave..."

"No, no" Henry eventually sighed and rushed over to you. He cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead. "Wait here, I'll be right back"

And that was what you did. You silently sat down, grabbing a bag of chips you found laying around, and settled to wait. And maybe, a few seconds passed where nothing devious came to mind, but as time ticket itself away, boredom got to you. First you stood up, and padded to the hallway, looking around. There was almost nothing new over there, but it still felt so homey you absolutely loved to inspect every detail. The TV in the living room was turned off, a couple of pizza boxes on the floor and his DVD cases laying around - absolutely nothing interesting.

You sighed and plopped down on his couch, folding your legs under your body, ready to flip through the channels on TV until he'd decide to join you. Nothing seemed of interest, being bombarded with news and fishing programs. "Old man" you thought to yourself, before opening up the menu in search for something less depressing. A wave of nostalgia hit you when you came across a Spiderman marathon, and you were done for. Maybe one full episode passed until Henry walked out of the bathroom, but you were nowhere near ready to leave.

"Look what's playing!" you beamed, pointing to the screen. Henry raised his eyebrows in amusement, his shoulders shaking as he softly laughed at your unusual choice of entertainment.

"Are you serious? Cartoons?"

"Yes!" you scoffed, extending your arms and gesturing for him to join you. Although reluctant at first, Henry agreed to sit and watch the show with you, but not before brewing some coffee first.

When he returned from the kitchen, two steaming mugs in tow, you shuffled to the side and welcomed him on the couch. He brought you close against him, draping his arm around your body. With your head resting on his shoulder, you sipped your coffee, eyes glued to the TV. "You seriously never watched these as teen? You were 11 when it came out."

"I did" Henry laughed, rubbing his hand up and down your side, "I was in love with Felicia Hardy"

"MJ was so much better!" you shook your head disappointed, "You have no taste"

"No need for that" Henry threatened, his fingers exploring their way down your body. The way he trailed his hand across your hips and thighs made you squirm, smiling to yourself as you shuffled closer to him.

Henry was more than happy to reciprocate, kissing your forehead and squeezing you tighter.

And just like that, you didn't care about Spiderman anymore. You flung your leg over Henry's lap, all but crawling on top of him. The episode was still playing in the background, but none of you was paying attention anymore. Henry wrapped his muscular arms around your frame, eliciting a soft moan from your lips as you pushed your hips down against his thigh. His hands traveled lower, exploring your body with delicate but greedy strokes.

As you let yourself get carried away with absolutely no worry in mind, Henry knew exactly what he was doing. And considering how easily you let your guard down, he had you right where he wanted.

When you hid your face in the crook of his neck, your nose rubbing across the slope of his collarbone, Henry's right hand found your ass. You froze for a second, but his gentle caress helped you relax again in an instant. With his lips against the top of your head, he allowed his fingers to sink into your flesh. Your whole frame stiffened as you gathered a handful of his hoodie into your fist.

"What's wrong?" Henry cooed, grabbing your chin, "You ok?"

"Yep" you whimpered, and then winced again as he squeezed your ass once more. "I'm good-" you lied, cupping the side of his neck into your palm as you crawled higher up his body, your lips right against his ear.

As weak as he was for you, Henry stood his ground. If you wanted to play this game, he'd do it, but he wouldn't let you win.

"Does this hurt?" he asked, roughly groping your ass.

Jumping slightly from the pain, you still managed to shake your head, blurting out another lie. "... no"

"What about this?" Henry teased, grinning widely as he shoved his hands inside your leggings, under your panties.

The urgency of his touch made your eyes open wide, your back arching as you tried to push yourself off of him.

"Does it hurt, darling?" he continued, keeping you in place with ease.

Defeated, you sighed and lowered your gaze, "A bit" you mumbled.

"Just a bit?"

"Henry-"

"Did he fuck you good?"

Your mouth fell open. "What- no, I didn't- we didn't do anything-"

"Didn’t do anything?" Henry grinned, his perfect teeth showing as he proudly pried information out of you.

"I just... fuck-"

Seeing no way out of this one, and eager to stop hiding, you pushed yourself back. Henry's hands left your body as you sat beside him, and he watched you curiously, patiently waiting for you to word your thoughts. "I just filmed a video for my page, that's all" you bowed your head.

"What kind of video?" Henry questioned.

His demeanour was so relaxed, he was right in his element, unlike you, who were riled up to the extreme. "A spanking video-" you cleared, awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

"Did he spank you good?"

His hand found your hips again, and you leaned into his touch, nodding your head yes as you were too embarrassed to actually word your answer.

"Then show me"

He was dominant and stern, and even if you wanted to, you felt like saying no wasn't an option. Henry didn't wait for your permission as he grabbed your waist and pulled you up to your knees, chuckling softly to himself when he saw you shyly smile down at him.

His fingers curled around the waistband of your leggings, forcefully pulling them down your thighs. "Come on" he urged you, softly guiding you to lay down across his lap, your ass barely covered by the pinkish and slightly unflattering underwear you had chosen for the day.

Henry's breathing picked up at the sight, and so did yours. You watched him over your shoulder, his fingers tracing over the bruises Steve left on your bum the night before.

"Henry-?" you whimpered, the anticipation building up in the pit of your stomach becoming too much to bear.

"Yes, darling?" he cooed, leaning down to the side to kiss your cheek. His stumble tickled your skin and you whimpered when his hand made its way between your legs.

You felt his fingers against your opening and involuntarily clenched your thighs around him, hiding your face in the cushions of below your head.

"Tell me" Henry pushed, teasing your folds and clit over your underwear.

"Nothing, I-" you cried, making him chuckle.

He loved giving you a taste of your own medicine. He straightened himself up and grabbed your ass into his hands, squeezing until you yelped out in pain. A soft laughter of approval escaped his throat as he bent down and pressed his lips to one of your cheeks, applying lingering kisses over each and every single bruise.

The way he took control of the situation and handled your body, turned you on to no end. For whatever reason, being exposed like that for him, waiting for any kind of judgement to leave his lips, you were getting more and more riled up by the second. You were done for. You did your best not to moan with need, but little did you know that was exactly what kept you from being thrown onto the floor and fucked into oblivion. Just one single sign was all you needed in order to break his self control, but you didn’t have it in you to do it.

But he didn’t say anything, instead just keeping you on your toes as he had his way. You were dripping through your underwear, and judging by the bulge in his pants that pushed up against your belly, you knew he was on the same page as you. But again, he didn’t allow things to go further. Everything about this moment pointed in the right direction - the teasing, the touching, you were all but whimpering in his lap, but he cut the moment short with a sharp slap against your ass before he helped you up. Henry acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened as he pulled your leggings back up, but this glare became colder when he found your eyes.

He bent down and spoke into your ear, "He could've done a better job"

Completely under his spell, you bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows. "I don't think I would have been able to take any more"

"That's not what I said" Henry shook his head.

"Look at you being an expert" you teased, relishing in the fact that he seemed eager to keep things going.

"All I'm saying is that if you had asked someone else-" Henry laughed, stroking your cheek, "Things would have turned out much more different"

"Oh" you pouted, ready to tease him further. "Who should I have asked-"

Just when you started getting comfortable and confident enough to push things further, Henry's phone rang. "I don't have to take that" he shook his head when he heard you stopped talking.

"Just see who it is" you giggled, slapping his shoulder.

Before doing so, Henry grabbed your chin and kissed your forehead, his touch drawing you in like a magnet as you leaned into him when he pulled away. With a sigh, you eventually crawled off his lap and then your face fell with disappointment when Henry showed you the screen of his phone.

"Yeah?" he huffed after picking up, his boss being the last person he wished to talk to right now.

You watched him closely as he listened to whatever the man was saying, and almost whined out loud when Henry frowned annoyed.

"I'll call you back in 5, ok?" he asked and after a couple of seconds hung up.

"I'm so sorry-" Henry sighed, turning to you, "I gotta go take this, there's a problem with one of the radars, I need to go see if I can fix it remotely"

"Sure thing" you shook your head. "But please tell me you don't have plans tonight"

"I don't" Henry leaned towards you and again, kissed your forehead. As much as you loved the sweet gesture, it was now more than ever that you craved something else entirely.

"And please don't forget about me again" you giggled, grabbing his biceps and stopping him from leaving without a promise.

"I won't" he sighed, "I'm really sorry about that. I'll make it up to you"

"However I want?" you beamed and licked your lips.

"Absolutely" Henry smiled, sweetly embracing you before walking you to the door.

You had his word now, and you were planning on making it count. There was no way either you or Henry would act as if nothing had happened, and you couldn't wait.

Once alone and seated at his desk, Henry opened up the text editor associated with the code he wrote months ago. When his screen was flooded with errors and his chat popped up with three different messages asking for help from his colleagues, Henry all but yelled out loud in frustration. Not only did he wish to be with you, it was also Sunday, one of his days off. But he couldn't just text the pilot of the plane whose radar went berserk and tell him to wait. So he got to work, determined to get this done as soon as possible.

But unfortunately, that 'as soon as possible' turned into 3 hours of continuous work. He didn't even stand up to go to the bathroom until he made sure everything was on point. It was about 4pm when the program started running smoothly again, and seeing how he had a few more hours to waste until he had to see you, Henry decided to make the best of them, by getting a head start on his tasks for the following day.

Productivity flowed through his fingertips as he solved the first issue he had been assigned for the day to come, getting ready to start working on the second one when a call caught his attention. He didn't recognize the ring tone, and it only dawned on him that he was still logged into your facebook account a couple of seconds after it stopped ringing.

Still curious, Henry switched the tabs on his computer, noticing that the chat with Steve, which he left open hours ago, showed that there was an ongoing video call. His jaw fell. Henry tightened his hands into fists, fuming with anger. First as you for doing this, and then at himself for allowing you to believe this was an ok thing to do. He knew there was no way to eavesdrop on your conversation even if he had the password, but that didn't mean his curiosity died down. No, it only grew stronger.

He felt lost for a minute, but then he thought of something. On his dresser, right next to his winter gloves and under his favorite jogging hat, laid an extra set of keys. Henry remembered the day you gave them to him, saying something along the lines of 'I feel much safer knowing that if something were to happen, you could always get to me, Henry.' and then remembered how you stuffed them in his pocket, and kissed his chest before stepping back. Such different times.

There was no trace of hesitation inside his mind as he grabbed the keys and made his way out of his home. He passed the hallway in less than a second and pressed his ear to the door. It was perfectly quiet, and through the peephole, he couldn't see any light. You weren't in the kitchen or living room, so he felt confident enough. After putting his phone on vibrate, Henry ever so gently pushed the key inside, turning it inside the lock with the most meticulous movement his wrist could muster. The sound of the door knob being turned was so faint he barely even heard it, but his pulse skyrocketed when he heard the click that signaled the door was finally open.

With small, careful steps, he made his way inside. The entire apartment was dark and quiet as he made his way in, stopping just outside your bedroom as the relaxed, deep voice of a stranger became audible through the wall. “Trust me, sweetheart. Just relax, I got you. You’re all tense, I can see it from here. You know I have more experience with this than you do, just do as I say”

With one hand on the doorknob of your bedroom, Henry was ready to put an end to this whole charade. He knew he might regret it later, but he didn't care. The image of a so called friend, pushing you to do anything that you seemed to have clearly stated your discomfort about, flipped a switch inside his brain. There was no stopping him because no one, no one got to push you around like that. Not while he could do anything about it.

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fics #august walker x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #walter marshall x reader #ahh #a helping hand

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free-pool-trash · 4 years ago

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of pick up lines and garden flowers - peter maximoff

requests: Hello! I'm a big fan of basically all your Peter Maximoff x Reader stories and was wondering if you could write one where both of them got sucked into Westview and reader's "role" is a florist and Peter's in love with her or something? Bonus points if they were already together before getting trapped in the town and every time they meet, reader gets a flashback of when they were together? That would be pretty awesome to read :D

hey bestie ✨ i love this idea it’s super cute <3 thank you for sending it in i hope you enjoy <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated

word count: 1.1K (it’s short but i quite like it)

warnings: peter being dorky, really fluffy

masterlist

The sound of the bell above your door chiming alerted you that you had a customer. You smiled softly, not turning around, continuing to fix the arrangement of flowers in front of you.

“Back again?” You teased, already knowing who the visitor was without having to turn around. He came in at the same time every single day.

Once you finished adjusting the lilies on the shelf, you spun around to face the silver haired man who leaned against your cash counter casually, “Thought you needed your daily dose of vitamin P.”

“Dear god. That’s the worst one yet, truly, you’ve outdone yourself.” You cackled, busying yourself with filling out orders to avoid catching his trademark cheesy grin.

It had become a routine. He’d stroll into your shop and hit you with his best terrible pick up line and you’d send him away with a single flower.

“You smile wider the worse they are.” He informed, his dimples on full display as his grin had turned into a wide, loving smile.

If you hadn’t known better you would’ve sworn that you’ve seen that adoring smile of his before. Yeah, you’d seen it almost everyday this week but even from the very first day he’d stumbled into your shop and accidentally knocked over a vase of freshly organised hydrangeas he was familiar- he felt familiar.

Riding that train of thought you let out a soft “Oh”, as you remembered the flower you’d chosen to send him away with today. It wasn’t anything too special to the naked eye but whenever you looked at it you were hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia, the feeling was similar to the one you got when you’d lock eyes with the man who stood before you now, and so you figured why not put two good things together?

Quickly you pulled the flower out of the vase behind the cash counter where you were keeping it and presented it to Peter with a bright smile, “Tah-dah!”

Peter stared at the flower for a second, before his eyes moved up to your face. Truthfully, Peter didn’t really care about flowers, but he did however care about you and for whatever reason he couldn’t seem to keep himself from coming back to you time and time again.

He took the flower from you gently, making sure his fingers lingered against yours while you passed him the stem, he admired the steady blush that began rising on your cheeks at the contact.

“Why’d you pick a daisy?” He asked, twirling the green stem between his fingers and for a brief second, as you watched him grinning and messing with the taller than average garden flower, it was as if the fog had cleared completely.

The night was hot, you were laying in the garden simply listening to the crickets and allowing the cool breeze to sweep over you as you twirled a small daisy that you’d plucked from the grass between your fingers.

“Psst. Y/n!” Peter’s whisper startled you from your relaxation and you turned your head to look at him.

“Mhm?” Peter plopped himself down beside you, dropping his head onto your lap and letting out a content sigh as he did.

You sat up on the grass, careful not to move his head too much, you began to play with it softly as he began to speak, “Are you a magician?” He asked, looking up at your face seriously as if the question he just posed was the most important question he’d ever ask you.

Before you could even really process his question, a huge grin made its way across his lips, “Because when I’m with you everybody else disappears.”

“We’re the only people here, my love.” You reminded him through a giggle, “But counter question- Are you a parking ticket?” Peter scoffed, raising an eyebrow at you, completely unimpressed by your line’s set up.

“Why? Cuz I’ve got “fine” written all over me? Lame.” He complained rolling his eyes.

Lightly you flicked his nose, “No, I was gonna say it’s because you’re a huge inconvenience.” His gasp caused you to bark out a laugh, pleased with his outraged response.

Within a second Peter tackled you back into the grass, his fingers running up and down your sides, relentlessly. Loving the way your laughter came out in howls, the way they always did when he tickled you. Your eyes watered as he refused to let up until you were begging through squeals of laughter for him to stop. When he finally ceased his attack on your ribs, he let out a chuckle of his own and rolled off of your body, lying on the grass beside you instead.

It took you a second to catch your breath again, eventually when you managed to even out your breathing you turned your head to look at Peter, who was already looking at you. His gaze almost made you lose your breath again. His brown eyes twinkled and his skin was illuminated weakly by the moon that shone full above you, perfectly highlighting the dips in his dimpled cheeks as he smiled softly yet widely. You knew what that look was, he was in love, and conveniently; so were you.

“Truce?” You whispered, holding out the little daisy you had plucked from the grass earlier and offering it to Peter, whose smile never dimmed as he nodded in agreement.

You shimmied closer, pressed a small kiss to his nose before tucking the flower behind his ear. The image of him so in love with a daisy poking out from behind his ear was the purest, sweetest thing you’d ever seen and it caused your smile to nearly split your cheeks.

“You look perfect right now.” You voiced your thoughts quietly as to not disturb the moment.

Wordlessly, he placed his hands on your hips and tugged you into him so that your chest was flush against his. He kissed you softly, his lips moved meaningfully with yours, pouring all of his emotions into the kiss before he pulled away reluctantly.

He rested his forehead on yours and let the words he was thinking slip from his lips, his smile back and wider than it had been before your lips connected, “You’re perfect all the time.”

Peter watched in concern as you seemed to zone out for a second, a thoughtful look on your face. It only lasted a few seconds, though.

As quickly as it had gone, the fog returned and the memory slipped away as if it were never there to begin with, leaving only a feeling of warmth behind. With a gentle shake of your head, you zoned back in on Peter.

His heart skipped a beat at the smile that stretched across your lips. It was dazzling, no that wasn’t it, it was perfect.

He watched mesmerised as you shrugged your shoulders and spoke through a grin, “Not sure. It just reminded me of you… for some reason.”

Maybe, you’d been right to say you’d known him before. There was something so vividly sentimental to you about the boy that had you convinced that; yes, perhaps you had been met with his adoring smile before- in another life.

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximoff imagine #wandavision x reader #wandavision spoilers #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

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Have you ever seen where they get kids to ask the players tough questions and there all dress up and have fake beards and stuff. Maybe you could do that with Jules and Katie asking the team all these really hard questions?????

Thank you for giving me an excuse to spend an hour and a half watching adorable kids ask questions and melt the hearts of celebrities. You’re my hero. There are no fake beards here, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Sweater Weather characters belong to the incredible @lumosinlove!

“These chairs are so small,” James said as he scooted closer to the table. He nearly knocked Talker over with his elbow as the four of them squeezed in; the two kids on the other side shared a look.

“Ready, everyone?” Dorcas asked. When she received six thumbs up, she turned to the camera with a cheerful smile. “Hello, Lions fans, and welcome to Lion Pride! We have a couple of very special guests today to do the introductions.”

“Hello! I’m Katie and I’m six!” She held up six fingers and all four hockey players melted a little bit.

“I’m Julian, and I’m ten.” He waved, a little shy.

Dorcas smiled. “And how are you two related to our favorite Lions?”

Katie lit up and pointed behind the camera. “That’s my dad!”

There was a chuckle in the background. “Can you tell them my name, mon chou?”

“Pascal Dumais, but everyone calls you Dumo.” She swung her legs and her tulle skirt fluffed out.

“Remus Lupin is my older brother,” Jules said with a grin. “But Finn thought he was my dad.”

“It was an honest mistake!” Finn protested around a laugh. “Cut me some slack, Little Loops!”

“Do you want to do the intros for the guys, too?” Dorcas asked. Katie tugged on Jules’ sleeve.

“Can I go first?” she whispered. When he nodded, she hopped out of her chair and ran to the other side of the table, tapping each player on the shoulder. “This is Pots, Talker, Harzy, and Sirius.”

“Aw, man, I didn’t get to do any of them,” Jules pouted.

“You can ask the first question,” Dorcas said, hiding her smile behind her clipboard. “A quick reminder for our Lions: if you refuse to answer any of these, it means you hate children. Take it away, Jules!”

“Okay.” He cleared his throat and looked across the table with a solemn expression. “How many sticks have each of you broken?”

“Oh, that’s a tough one,” James mused. “A lot, but not always on purpose.”

“I haven’t broken that many,” Talker said. “I’ve forgotten to return quite a few to the rink after games, though. I think I have about five in my trunk that I keep meaning to put back.”

“Maybe…ten? Fifteen?” Finn rested his chin on his hand. “I should start a tally board.”

“Too many,” Sirius laughed. “I need to be more careful.”

Katie wiggled in her seat as she picked up the question card. “Why do you swear so much?”

Matching expressions of shock painted all four players’ faces. “Have we sworn in front of you?” Finn asked in a small voice.

“Yeah.”

“Mon dieu, I’m the worst person on earth,” Sirius murmured as Talker leaned his forehead on the table.

James opened and closed his mouth a couple times before answering. “Uh. Well. I don’t know, Katie. Instead of answering, I’m going to take this time to personally apologize to you and your dad, who is laughing his a—his rear end off in the back, as well as promising to form better habits.”

“If you could be any superhero, who would it be?” Jules asked, seemingly unfazed by the previous question. Wordlessly, Sirius gestured to his Captain America t-shirt.

“Spiderman,” Finn said without hesitation. “He’s the coolest.”

James unzipped his jacket to reveal a Superman shirt. “We didn’t coordinate this,” he said, tilting his head toward Sirius. “But yeah, Superman’s the best.”

Talker thought for a moment. “I really like Hawkeye. Are we talking Marvel or DC here?”

“Anything.”

“Anything? Hmm. I’m going to go with the Flash, then.”

“Nice.” Jules reached over to give him a high-five.

“I got Jules’ approval, everyone else can go home.”

“What’s your greatest fear?” Katie asked, still swinging her legs.

The table went silent. Sirius turned to Dorcas. “Is this the plan? Get us rolling with fun stuff and then give the hard ones to the five-year-old in a princess dress?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Cool. Well, munchkin, I don’t like bugs and I’m not a huge fan of the dark.”

“Vegetables,” Finn said sagely, which sent both kids into a fit of giggles and made all the adults break into sunny smiles. “God, you guys are cute.”

“Pomeranians freak me out,” Talker answered once they had calmed down a bit. “They have those tiny little eyes and sharp teeth.”

James shrugged. “I’m not a fan of heights.”

“I thought you wanted to be Superman?” Jules frowned. “He flies all the time.”

“I think I’d be less afraid of heights if I knew I could fly.”

“So you’re afraid of falling, not heights.”

James looked to the camera. “And now I’m getting psychoanalyzed by a ten-year-old. Uh, yeah buddy, I guess so.”

“Hmm.” Jules looked back to the question card. “Who would win in a fight, you or our moms?”

“Your moms,” Talker said immediately as the others nodded. “No contest.”

“How would we even get in that situation?” Sirius asked. “What the did we do to make the nicest women in the world that mad?”

“Stole brownies,” Katie said with great gravity for one so young. “Mom says you four are the worst about it.”

“Mom wouldn’t even have to fight you.” Jules cocked his head to the side. “I feel like she could just give you a disappointed look and that would be enough. Katie, your turn.”

“Yay!” She brightened again. “What is your favorite cereal?”

Sirius smiled. “Fruit Loops.”

“Cheerios,” Talker said. “They’re good for you physically and emotionally.”

“I’m with Talkie on this one,” James agreed.

Finn gave them all disappointed looks. “You’re so old. Mine’s Lucky Charms.”

“Okay, Leprechaun Boy,” James snorted. Finn reached over and smacked the back of his head. “Hey!”

“Do you ever play hockey at home?” Jules asked. “I feel like Sirius doesn’t have to answer this one since it’s so obvious.”

Finn laughed. “Does tapping a puck around on the carpet with brooms counts?”

“Yeah, that counts.”

“Then yeah, sometimes.”

“I have no space in my apartment to play hockey,” Talker said. “Though I plan on moving someday and then the answer will be yes.”

“I made a rink in my backyard.” James smiled slightly. “Lily likes to skate sometimes while I run drills.”

“My turn, my turn!” Katie scooted her chair closer. “Okay. Out of everyone on the team, what two people would you take with you on a dessert island?”

“Desert,” Jules corrected quietly.

“Desert island. Are there deserts on islands?”

“I think they mean like super sandy beaches with no people on them.”

“Oooooohhh.”

James mouthed a thank you to Dorcas, who gave him a thumbs-up in return. The other three looked at the kids with unbearable softness. “Well, I’d feel awful if I took your dad with me, so I think I’m going to go with Finn and maybe Kasey. We’d have a blast.”

“Nice, dude.” Finn fist-bumped him. “Unfortunately for you, my choices are going to be Leo and Logan, since I already know we could live together without starting a war on the third day.”

Sirius thought for a second. “I think Nado would actually be able to survive on a desert island, so I’ll bring him along, and for the second one…maybe Kasey? Yeah, Kasey’s cool.”

In the ensuing silence, Jules gave him a significant look. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”

“You’re not on the t—” The realization hit him like a truck; his eyes went wide and he slumped in his seat as the others burst out laughing. “Oh no. Oh, no, no, no.”

��Your own fiancé.”

“Please don’t tell him.”

“He’s gonna laugh so hard,” Jules cackled, leaning back in his chair. Even the camera crew was losing it in the background. Dorcas had to step out of frame. “You’re never going to live it down.”

“Well, the first person I would bring with me is Remus Lupin, because he’s read a lot of books and definitely knows how to survive on a desert island,” Talker said around his snickering. “And then I’d bring Cap, because God knows that would get entertaining after Loops finds out about this. The sarcasm would be off the charts.”

“Okay, next question.” Dorcas came back into view, still grinning. “Jules, go for it.”

“Can I ask Katie’s question again so Sirius can give a better answer?” he asked gleefully. Dorcas hesitated, then shook her head. “Bummer. What was cool when you were young that isn’t cool now?”

“When?” Finn looked scandalized. “I’m 24!”

“Yeah, and?”

“Ugh. Um, maybe Furbies? People were really into Furbies when I was in high school, though I can’t say I’m sorry to see them go out of style.”

James bit his lip in thought. “Tamagotchis.”

“I loved those things!” Talker said excitedly. “My sisters and I used to go nuts with those things!”

Sirius smiled. “Lite Brites.”

Finn’s eyes went wide. “I forgot about those!”

“Regulus and I each had one and we loved them. That was the only thing we agreed on and we used to sit—” He paused for a second to laugh. “—we used to sit in the middle of the ice rink in the backyard, still in our skates and everything, and do Lite Brites for literal hours.”

“That’s so cute, oh my god.” Talker shook his head. “What a nostalgia trip.”

Katie knelt on her seat and rested her arms on the table. “Who skates faster, you or me?”

“You,” all four answered in unison.

Jules rolled his eyes, but he was clearly hiding a smile. “How many push ups can you do?”

“How many can you do?” James countered. A flash of competition lit on Jules’ face and all the guys grinned. “Uh-oh, there’s the Lupin glare.”

“How about we have a little competition?” Dorcas suggested. “See how many everyone can do in thirty seconds?”

“Absolutely,” Finn said. The four of them had a little bit of trouble getting their knees out from under the kid-sized table, but eventually they succeeded and gathered in the middle of the room. “Katie, are you joining us?”

She smiled innocently. “No, I know I’d win.”

“Get ready.” Dorcas pulled her phone out as they knelt. “On your marks, get set, go!”

The guys went easy on Jules from the outset, but they made it look like those pushups were the hardest exercise they had ever done in their lives. Talker took a second to dramatically wipe his forehead and James’ wheezing was almost comical; Jules, however, was giving it his best shot. When the timer finally went off, Finn collapsed with a groan. “I forfeit.”

“Did I win?” Jules panted, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“You did, congratulations!” Dorcas put her timer away and winked at the camera as they headed back to the table. “Great job, everyone. Katie, your turn.”

“Do you live in a mansion?”

“I live in an apartment,” Finn said.

“Same.”

Sirius shook his head. “My house might be big, but it’s not a mansion.”

“Does a two-story house count as a mansion?” James asked. “No? Then no, I don’t.”

“Who is your least favorite person on the team and why?” Jules turned to Sirius with raised eyebrows. “Are we going to have another desert island problem?”

Sirius threw his hands in the air, speechless, as the other three cracked up. “Jules, can I adopt you?” James begged around his laughter. “Please?”

“You’ll have to fight my mom for that, I think.”

“My least favorite person on the team is James Potter,” Sirius sighed. “Not the person I’m getting married to.”

“We could get married. Lily might mind, though.”

“Full offense, but I know way too much about you to ever consider that.”

James ruffled his hair and turned back to the kids. “My least favorite person on the team is Remus Lupin, because he ran me over in practice the other day.”

Finn side-eyed him. “Didn’t you trip him after he stole the puck from you?”

“He ran me over.”

“Sure, Pots. Um, my least favorite is Kasey Winter. He threw ice at me while we were in the ice baths.”

“Logan took my Gatorade last week and hid it all over the rink,” Talker said. “I’ll never forgive him for such a crime.”

“Oh, I like this one!” Katie exclaimed as she looked at her card. “What’s the best birthday party you’ve ever had?”

“My tenth birthday was at Red Robin and I got a Power Ranger outfit.” Talker grinned. “I was the coolest kid on the block.”

“My eighteenth birthday was pretty fun,” Finn said. “There was a bouncy house and Alex almost broke it because we were jumping too hard.”

“Does it have to be my birthday?” James asked. “Because my son’s first birthday party was awesome.”

“Why?”

“He threw cake in Sirius’ face and a food fight broke out in the backyard.”

“That was a pretty great day,” Sirius agreed. “My last birthday party was my favorite.”

“You spent the night with us!” Katie said happily.

“I did, yeah,” he laughed. “And I had a really good time.”

Jules perked up when he read the next question. “I love this one! Do you have a lucky pair of underwear?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, totally.”

“Of course I do.”

“Is there a superstition I don’t have?”

Jules looked especially pleased with those answers as Katie picked up her card. “This is the last one,” she warned. “And it’s super important and super hard. What kind of dog would you be and why? You can take your time, I don’t mind.”

“Thank you, Katie, we’ll need it,” Talker said as he desperately tried to contain his smile. “I’ll go first, if nobody minds. I would be a border collie because one, I love them; two, they have a lot of energy; and three, they love making friends.”

“That’s a good one,” she said seriously. “They’re also very soft.”

“Yes, they are.”

Once Finn managed to suppress his quiet laughter, he raised his hand. “Can I go next?” Katie nodded. “I’d be an Irish setter. They have red hair and they’re really affectionate. Plus, I met one the other day at the park and haven’t stopped thinking about him.”

“This was a tough question, Katie, but I think I’m going to go with a golden retriever,” James said after a moment. “They’re good family dogs and they like to be on the ice with those big ol’ paws.”

“That’s what I was going to say!” She beamed at him. “Sirius, you don’t have to go. I already know what you’d be.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking highly amused. “Do you now? Can everyone else know, too?”

“Well, it’s obvious,” she said. “You’d be Hattie. She looks just like you and she gives the best hugs.”

A small puff of air left Sirius’ lungs and he blinked as James reached over and patted his shoulder. “Oh. Okay.”

“That wraps us up,” Dorcas said, looking between them with a soft smile. “Any closing statements from our guest stars?”

“Ready?” Jules muttered to Katie, who nodded rapidly. “On three. One, two, three!”

“Go Lions!” they shouted in unison with matching grins. The camera crew cheered and the players applauded, all laughing.

“Thank you for tuning in, everyone! Remember to like and subscribe for more content.”

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internalsealpanic · 3 years ago

Text

The Mechanics of Living part 2

Summary: You trick Tim into going to a closed-off sector. Things go well. a/n: I will be doing a director’s cut for this is anyone is interested (by anyone I mean @glorified-red) Warnings: very slight body horror and gore

Main Masterlist

Tim Drake Masterlist

It was easiest to just tell Tim all the facts rather than rely on the goodwill you've built in 3 years to persuade him.

There's a reason sector 4-D was cordoned off last year. For some unknown reason, a section that had been little more than a concrete wasteland started teeming with infected life.

People say it was an abomination (An unidentifiable, Tim corrected but you still think abomination captured the appropriate dramatic for that.) that wandered in from farther in the waste. Some people say it was one of Bludhaven's beasts they let loose. You highly doubt Bludhaven was in any shape to contain whatever it is ravaging sector 4-D. After all, it wasn't in any better shape than Gotham was at the moment. You doubt it's ever been in better shape. They're like two cities constantly caught in this vortex of awfulness, looking at each other from two different sides thinking 'poor bastards'.

Sector 4-D was an easy hunting ground where young scavengers got their feet wet before they could move on. Now it was a dead zone, a dead zone with too much potential to pass up.

Like every sector, sector 4 was vast and unexplored and supposedly, there had been a library there. A building full of books and most importantly, medical textbooks.

You feel a little bad plucking at Tim's heartstrings when all you cared about was the payout. Appealing to the guy's sense of responsibility was kind of cheating but-- BUT! The specified textbooks do have stuff about bacteria and illnesses so you aren't really overstating their importance.

You try to push down the number of zeroes the man had shown you as you zip past a rusted sign.

You don't really trust anyone other than Tim to help you with this. Besides, all the other people who won't stab you after cashing in the reward probably don't know half as many words as Tim so you'll definitely need him to get the right books.

You stare at the rows of cars before you. They're overrun with weeds and vines and rust. A stark reminder that your Gotham is just a fraction of what it had been. You stop your bike in front of a taxi with a faded yellow body.

"This is it. This is where your life as an adventurer begins."

You swallow back the wave of nostalgia, letting the bike roll past it into the mess of cars to keep it a little more hidden. It isn't illegal to go to this sector yet. At least not when you checked but you really don't wanna gamble your Scavenger's license on clerical errors by either of your guilds.

Tim steps out of the sidecar, careful not to jostle Basil in his bag. You want to point out that you should probably wake the cat up otherwise you were wasting food on him but you knew better than to expect cooperation from Tim's fur ball from hell.

“So which theory about the illness do you think is the most plausible?” He asks, tucking the walkman away. You both thought it was stupid name but you didn’t really wanna question the teller. “The one that involves the least aliens.” You pause, narrowing your eyes at Tim whose hand is currently being eaten by his cat. “Or alien adjacent things.”

“So, you're one of those people who thinks the government did it.” Tim is *such* a little shit. Maybe that’s why his guild master gave him the most useless cat on the planet. Grade A my ass, you think staring at the furball nipping at his knuckles.

“Not on purpose, no.”

Tim raises a brow. “I didn't know you had that much faith in humanity.”

“Pffff, I think they just fucked up.”

“Here, I was accusing you of being optimistic.”

“A mistake really.”

You two come to a crossroads. A giant large yellow lantern hangs in the middle of the street, swaying listlessly in the air. It’s strange.

“Do you think the people in the old world used those to scare away the sick?”

“If they did,” he looks around, “it didn't work.”

Your eyes flit over the area. Stone walls crumble, vegetation willing in the cracks. Still, even with the overgrowth of life, the city feels hollowed out. Nearly a decade ago, you’d first laid a hand on one of the stone arches of the city hall just down by main street. Nearly a decade ago, you felt the stone crumble beneath the pads of your fingers. Nearly a decade ago, you had come the closest to knowing what it was like having the sickness. Even one of the great cities had been reduced to a fraction of its size.

“Do you think the color of the light matters?” Tim asks, pointing again to the lamp.

You squint. You hadn’t noticed it at first but yeah, the color of the lights was different.

“Maybe,” you tilt your head, “or maybe the people from before were just idiots.”

“You just have a bad opinion of them, don’t you?”

“Like you don’t.” You shoot back, tapping your bat against your boot.

Tim rolls his eyes and shrugs.

You try to smile at that but something’s wrong. Your skin bristling, the air is stale despite the wind. You watch the lantern sway back and forth, the thin wires holding it up, fragile and precarious. A bad feeling crawls up your spine.

There’s a pressure in the air, the atmosphere turning into a vacuum.

Basil hisses, looking as vicious as he can.

The wind stops.

The skittering voices rise like the fluttering of locust wings.

A writhing mass, pulsing and menacing, blots out the horizon. It opens its maw to wheeze and the stench of rot floods the air. Your insides curdle and wilt from the intensity of the putrid odor. Once the *thing* draws another breath, the skittering begins again and this time you know where it’s from.

You can see it in the way its neck twists and undulates, its rotting flesh rippling as the fragmented voices rasp out of its throat. Its limbs, deformed, move unnaturally as it ambles towards you.

You stare at it. Your limbs unmoving. That thing *is* an unidentifiable. In all technicality, it fits the neat taxonomy laid out by experts. It is neither man nor beast. Its form corrupted beyond recognition. It’s rotting and shambling. But the thing you are looking at cannot simply be sorted neatly because it is what it is.

A creature that god himself did not touch.

An abomination.

You splay a hand on Tim’s chest, pushing him back lightly. Glancing at each other, you nod as you slowly step back into an alley. You quietly curse Gotham’s gloomy weather for the thing’s appearance. You thought you would have at least ‘til sundown to look for loot before having to flee to a safer sector. But when in Gotham, nothing is ever certain even the rising of the sun.

All you have to do is be quiet. Easy enough. Being silent is the first thing you learn to be in this world.

It blinks at you.

It. Blinks. At. *You.*

Your heart stops, the blood running in your veins turning into lead.

Dozens of eyes blink at you. They’re not all human from the looks of them. It opens its maw again, your muscles bunch up in anticipation of its miasmal breath. The discordant voices coming from its mouth coalesce into a horrible sob.

Tim grabs your wrist and pivots towards an alley. The sudden change in movement shocks your body awake. You scoop Basil up and bolt down the alley, letting Tim lead the way.

Desperately, You try to concentrate on the scuff of your shoes against pavement instead of the creak of limbs and the plop of flesh as it drips off the creature. The pinching of Tim’s features tells you he’s doing the same.

You round the corner, shoulder hitting brick, narrowly avoiding dozens of hands reaching for you. Basil yowls and hisses and you would apologize but your shoulder is screaming at you and goddammit Basil, we have bigger issues.

You and Tim squeeze into a space between the buildings seemingly too small for that thing’s gelatinous form. You make the mistake of looking back only to see its limbs skitter up the building and down the other end of the alley. It smiles at you, rows of teeth glittering in the sparse light.

This was it.

This is where your life ends.

Where else is there to go?

You expect the acceptance to come in like a flood or relief. Life was hard with very little room for breath. Scraping by, tooth and nail, knuckles bleeding for every scrap of stability. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You suddenly feel so tired like the adrenaline had been keeping you together for the past few years. Acceptance should have come easy.

But it doesn’t.

You open your eyes to glance at Tim, finally resignation sets. His features are still pinched and his hand is trembling beside yours. You really did screw this one up big time, huh?

You bite your cheek.

Watching Tim’s mind work, you know you have to keep him alive. You squeeze Tim's hand. He narrows his eyes at you. You give him a crooked smile and let his hand fall.

You pivot, foot pushing against the pavement as you launch yourself to the other end of the alley.

If your estimates are correct, you can buy him 15 minutes. 15 minutes would be more than enough for him to make it back to the bike--

Tim yanks on your hood, throwing open a door. The creature howls as Tim hurls both of you into the building.

"What the heck was that?!" Tim screams.

"A Dick." You answer, rubbing your head. fuck. Tim could throw.

"No! You were being fucking stupid."

You scowl at him in the dark. "Thanks Tim. I get it."

"No, you don't!"

"Can we argue--"

The door rattles and shakes. A fist-shaped dent embeds itself on the metal door. You glance at each other before scrambling towards the very safe-looking stairs.

You fly up the steps like hell was on your heels and as far as you're concerned, it was. You wrench Tim's bag from him and you're half tempted to throw him over your shoulder as well but you're not sure the stare case can hold that much weight.

If you climb to the roof-- If you... climb... It can climb. Fuck.

You and Tim seem to come to the same conclusion as you throw yourselves into another door.

You shove a sofa in front of the door and sit on it.

"Please tell me you've miraculously come up with a plan." You hiss glancing over to Tim who's staring at the window.

He glances over his shoulder to look at you. "If I could pull off miracles, you wouldn't be so dumb."

You sigh. Ok, yeah. He has every right to be mad. It was an incredibly stupid move but it's a numbers game and yeah.

Tim runs his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. He needs to come up with something. He glances out the window. He walks over and leans out the window.

"We should jump."

"Would you like to elaborate?" You wheeze, still not really letting go of a

"Follow me."

"Tim, I have never trusted you less in my life." You snort, quietly. But you make your way to the window. You set Basil down and look at what Tim is pointing to. There's a dumpster filled to the brim with trash. There doesn't seem to be any infected mice in there and the road to the right is a straight shot back to the bike.

You lick your lips.

"So we're on the same page."

"Uh, if that means what I think it means then yes."

Tim lets out a breath as he opens the window as quietly as possible. You listen to the steady beat of limbs thumping against the wood. You hold a collective breath. The window clicks into place with a loud snikt.

The thumping stops.

You practically shove Tim out the window while you stare at the door. It rattles and shakes. A screech erupts the stairwell as you jump out the window. You land with a thump, sinking beneath the mounds of plastic.

Your heart is hammering and pressing into your throat. Its beat is in sync with the steady thump of the limbs. The wet squelching of rotting flesh scraping against the rusted metal of the dumpster. You want to heave but Tim shoves a hand in your face. You gag silently. Tim's hand smells putrid from the trash.

You hold your breaths until the thumping goes away. You don't dare breathe until Basil settles down.

You fall limp against the trash. Your limbs feel like jelly. You gag. Thinking about jelly right now is probably the worst thing for your health.

Tim nudges you with his foot. You turn your body over as quietly as you can.

You watch him make shapes with his hands. You frown. You cycle through your memory trying to remember what the gestures mean then let go of Basil when you do.

Basil rises from the trash, padding against the plastic.

When you hear Basil jump down to the pavement, you dig your way out of the trash.

"For the record, I hate your plans." You say, gagging.

"What was yours?" Tim fires back, dusting his hair.

"..."

"Just what I thought."

You're the first to climb out, holding your arms out to him mockingly. He silently threatens to curb stomp your face. You snort and tuck your hands to your side.

Thankfully, you make it to the bike without incident.

Tim tucks his body into the sidecar, occupying himself by comforting Basil. You hand him a bat as you start the bike.

"Just in case."

You kick the bike into gear as you two ride into the sunset.

You breathe a quiet breath, letting your eyes slip shut for a moment. The road is clear for about 14 breaths. That’s all you want to think about.

At the fourteenth breath, you open your eyes to an open expanse of road, endless and breathtaking. You turn to Tim and laugh. He gives you a sour look. You’ll just buy both of you some canned pineapples later and he’ll maybe forgive you. Basil certainly does as he doesn’t participate in Tim’s sour protest, opting instead to crawl into Tim’s bag.

Then you hear it above the roar of the engine.

The skittering.

Voices like the fluttering of wings.

It screeches, the raspy cry making your skin crawl. You don’t wanna look back. You don’t want to see the unnatural movement of its body as it bounds towards you.

You kick the bike to a higher gear. The engine will hate you but you can’t repair it if you’re dead.

The bike slows down. Tim stands up raising your bat over his head, bringing it down. It does not clang. The sound is squishier and moist. Your stomach rebels. Hazarding a glance behind you, you see the writhing mass holding onto your bike.

“TIM,” you shout.

“I--” Swing “-- AM--” Swing “--A LITTLE--” Swing “--BUSY!” “THERE’S A CAN OF HAIRSPRAY IN MY DUFFLE.”

Tim ducks down, throwing you the bat. You swing wildly at the creature, summoning up a truly impressive bout of swearing.

Tim sprang up, nearly falling off the sidecar if not for you grabbing his shirt. Tim flicked the lighter, pressing down on the nozzle of the spray, and unleashing fire on the beast. The thing cries, voice shattering as it burns. You watch its flesh burn. Oh, what a pleasure it was to see it burn.

"We are never doing this again!" Tim wheezes.

"Of definitely fucking not." You bark, kicking the bike to a higher gear. The purring of the engine sounds like music to your ears.

"We are definitely doing easy sectors by a bit." You laugh.

When you don’t hear a snarky remark, you glance to your sidecar. Tim is slumped into his seat, breathing hard. You raise your brow but turn your attention to the road. You shake him. You shake him again and again.

Tim doesn't respond.

You pull your hand away and it’s slick with blood.

______________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading!!!!

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @bungunz , @birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be @jadedhillon @notsostraightweeb

#tim drake x reader #tim drake imagines #Tim Drake #post apocalypse

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crispys-laptop · 4 years ago

Text

aeonian (h.h.j)

genre: fluff, angst, immortal au

word count: 1.4k

~warning: mentions of death, character death

Network tag: @stayverse

a/n: thanks to @blueprint-han for the banner and helping me with this fic. I swear if it's not for you, it wouldn't turn out this good 🥺🥺 (and I come back to tumblr :3)

The first time you saw him was when he stepped inside the cafe that you worked at. His presence was enough to captivate people, their gazes lingering on his form as he walked past them and went to the counter.

"One cup of Americano, please."

His order was simple. Just a cup of Americano. He ordered the same thing the next day. Until it became a routine. He would walk into the cafe and come up to you. You would be ready with his usual order. You both exchanged smiles, you being too shy to start a conversation.

"I think he likes you." Your co-worker would say, giggling.

You shook your head at her ridiculous statement, continuing your work as you felt his gaze on you, watching you intently.

A few weeks later, you mustered up enough courage to talk to him. As you made way timidly towards his table, your heart beating frantically, fearing his reaction.

"Excuse me? You come around a lot but I haven't caught your name yet. Mine's Y/N and I just hope we can be friends?"

His smile was beautiful. Too beautiful to be human. Yet his eyes were carrying something, like sadness and longing but you couldn't pinpoint it.

"The name is Hyunjin. Nice to meet you."

"Why do you keep coming to our café even though it's miles away from your place?"

Hyunjin looked up from his cup to stare at you, lips lifting in a smile. He pushed the cup away from him, finger drumming on the table as you waited for him to answer.

"Your coffee is delicious. They remind me of someone. That's all."

You frowned at his answer. Hyunjin seems to notice that you were not satisfied with his answer yet he didn't say anything.

"Why don't you ask that person to make your coffee then? Did you guys fight or something?

You asked, absentmindedly stirring your coffee. Hyunjin went quiet for a while before opening his mouth.

"She died a few years ago."

You stopped stirring, guilt starting to fill your being. You grabbed his outstretched hand, nearly knocking the cups over.

"I'm sorry. That's rude of me. I don't mean to bring that up." "It's okay."

Hyunjin smiled lightly, patting your hand as you kept on apologizing. You eventually picked up your head to look into his eyes, fighting back his gaze.

A wave of nostalgia suddenly hit you. You didn't know why but his eyes seem familiar somehow. Like you already saw them before.

"Y/N? Are you there?"

You jerked out from your trance as Hyunjin waved his hand in front of your face. He looked worried.

"I'm okay. It's just I think I remember something when I stared into your eyes." "Oh. That's good."

And the next day, he didn't come back.

People think being immortal must be nice. You won't die. You won't get hurt. You could live for so long and you won't ever get old. It's a way of avoiding death, the thing that people feared so much.

But not for Hyunjin. If he had to choose, he chooses death.

For starters, he needs to see all his loved ones die with his own eyes and it will continue to haunt his memory forever. He can't stay in one area for a long time just in case anyone noticed him. No matter how much the town means to him, he had moved away to avoid causing a ruckus.

He needs to change his identity often which is the only way so people won't recognize him and sell him out. He hates being immortal.

Not to mention, it's hard for him to fall in love. Hyunjin has been falling in love with the same person every time for 400 years now. No matter how much you changed over time, he still falls for you.

It hurts to see you falling in love, getting married, having kids, and hearing you passed away. He could have approached you yet he knows he won't stand a chance with you and the thought of seeing you dying hurts him.

Yet, this was the first time you approached him first. He still looks after you from time to time, helping you in secret if you have ever been in trouble and it surprised him when you approached his table shyly, asking to be friends.

And so Hyunjin agreed.

But when she started to remember a little bit from her past life, Hyunjin knew it was time for him to flee. He couldn't risk you remembering him. As much as he hated to leave, Hyunjin knew it was for the best.

For 40 years, he lived alone, far away from your city. He suppressed his desire to see you, to know if you're doing good, to find out if you got over him.

Until one day, he couldn't take it anymore. So he went back to your city, just to watch you from afar. Seeing you after all these years, still smiling brightly while running the little cafe, made him feel relieved to see you doing so well without him.

He was surprised to find out you still didn't get married yet, like your other past life. Until he found out you were still waiting for him and you already knew the fact about him being immortal.

Turned out, Hyunjin stupidly left his sketchbook, the one where he keeps all his sketches of Y/N from her different life after their last encounter together. And it seems like she pieced it together to form a conclusion that he's immortal.

And so Hyunjin decided to come back. This time, to stay until your very last breath.

The bell on the door chimed merrily as someone stepped inside the cafe. You picked up your head from the old cash register, smiling at the person in front of you.

His presence, as always, drew people in to look at him, gaping at his figure. Even after 40 years, he still had that dazzling smile on his face.

"You didn't change much, Hyunjin." "And you aged beautifully, Y/N"

You chuckled slowly, shaking your head as tears collected at the brim of your eyes. Hyunjin helped you to get out from the counter, his hand gripping yours tightly.

"I may be old but I'm not fragile yet."

You mumbled as Hyunjin fussed over you, asking if you were comfortable. You sighed, smiling, a bit amused at his antics. You pulled his hand to sit next to you. Smiling, he held your hand tenderly, as your tears once again flooded the brim of your eyes.

"I missed you."

As the noises from the background faded into silence, you focused solely on Hyunjin as he did the same, the feeling of longing evaporated as you both basked in each other's presence, letting out the yearning for each other.

"Me too, Hyunjin. Me too."

Hyunjin took one last look at the graveyard, focusing on your tomb. He watched as your close ones went back along with him. His mind flew back to the last conversation you had with him yesterday before you passed away in your sleep.

"I'll try to remember you in my next life."

Hyunjin smiled as he fixed your blanket gently, patting your hand. You smiled back as his hand intertwined both of your hands together.

"Don't bother, Y/N. It's never gonna work."

You chuckled but it was quickly cut off with a cough. Hyunjin quickly handed her some water as he helped her sit up on the bed. You waved his hand away as the cough subsided, shaking your head.

"We just need a miracle, Hyunjin. If I can remember you after our last encounter 40 years ago, why won't I remember the next time we meet?"

You reached out to your nightstand and took out his sketchbook, handing it to him. Hyunjin reluctantly accepted it, feeling a bit lost.

"If you show me that sketchbook in my next life, I'm sure I'll remember. After all, I won't forget the person who draws me so beautifully like that."

You chuckled as Hyunjin flipped through the pages. He nodded.

"Now let's get you to sleep. It's late."

That night, Hyunjin drew you while you were sleeping peacefully with a smile on your face as you breathed your last air.

He gripped the sketchbook tightly in his grasp, willing himself not to cry. He let out a watery smile as he walked away from the graveyard, promising himself to do what you told him to do before.

Except, you were never reborn.

#stayverse #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz angst #skz au #skz scenarios #skz hyunjin #skz headcanons #skz hyunjin fluff #skz hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin fanfic

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pfreadsandwrites · 3 years ago

Note

Top 5 anime?

Top 5 favorite Naruto characters?

Top 5 favorite Kakashi moments?

I can go on 😆 Pick one that resonates with you ☺️💕

I already answered top 5 Naruto characters so I’ll go with top 5 anime and top 5 Kakashi moments! Thank you so much for playing @jazzi-fizz 💕💕💕 I hope you’re doing well!

Top 5 anime:

1. Fruits Basket (reboot)

2. Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood

3. Cowboy Bebop

4. Ouran High School Host Club (pure nostalgia but nostalgia is powerful)

5. Princess Jellyfish (makes me feel so warm inside, so cute)

AOT gets an honourable mention because though I’m still watching it, it for sure will make its way up there when I’m done.

Top 5 Kakashi moments:

1. Really love the moment where he talked to Inari after Naruto yelled at him. Said so much about his character and how perceptive and kind he really was. So much about the Land of Waves arc because it’s where Kakashi was at his most aloof and even cold? But it’s where we got these amazing moments of softness and kindness and showed what a complex character he was from his first arc

2. Love where Kakashi stopped Sasuke and Naruto from hitting Sakura with their attacks. It’s just a really cool moment lmao

3. The Kakashi vs Kakuzu fight is very cool 😎 I like the ending too. Idk I just like that he did the (emotionally) hard part of actually finishing Kakuzu off and did it away from the kiddies

4. The part where he closes Haku’s eyes when they’re still open after death, and when he grants Zabuza’s request to take him over to his body. Really speaks to the stuff I mentioned before and his… honour as a soldier I guess?

5. That part where Kakashi is late for Hiruzen’s funeral, the part where he’s at the KIA memorial stone, and he has that conversation with Yugao. A really short scene that had a lasting impact on me because of what it told us about his character

There are SO many more, and I didn’t mean for this to be nearly all part 1 but these are the ones that came to mind first lmao. I like the small moments with him so I wanted to highlight some of those than some of the dramatic stuff in Shippuden but I love those too.

Thank you so much for the questions 💕

Ask me my top 5 here!

#ask game #answered #kakashi

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k-popmakesmyday · 4 years ago

Text

Only One of You - lmk

➵ pairing: Mark Lee x gender neutral reader

➵ genre: a lot of fluff, angst if you squint, idol boyfriend au

➵ warnings: none

➵ word count: 1.6k

➵ summary: while Mark is away on a schedule you find yourself stepping into his shoes and playing around with one of his prized possessions, but what will happen if something were to go horribly, horribly wrong?

➵ A/n: credit to @your-world-with-nct for the beautiful header, go give her some love 🥰💞

➵ A/n 2: not proofread

‘Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod what have you done?’ You thought as you looked down at the horror before you. Head clouded with horror-stricken thoughts as you replayed the last ten seconds over and over again in your mind. Desperately searching for an answer on what you were going to do. Or, better yet, how in gods name you were going to tell mark why his precious guitar was currently on the floor in front of you in two pieces.

But how did you end up in this particular predicament you ask? Well let’s see..

[3:17 pm] “Hi Y/n! Mark is out with the others right now but you can go wait in his room, they went out shopping but I wasn’t feeling it today” Jungwoo greeted as you walked into the dorm you had become so familiar with.

“Thanks, Woo! How lucky you are today, you have the dorm all to yourself!” you exclaimed with a smile

“Yeah, had the dorm all to myself” he retorted back, narrowing his eyes though his tone held no real malice”

You clasped a hand over your heart in fake offence before you stomped off to Mark’s room with a ‘hmmph!’, hearing the red-haired boy chuckle at your antics as you opened the door.

Sighing lightly upon entering the comforting room, you lightly flopped yourself onto your boyfriend’s bed, your hair splaying out against the beige duvet cover as your eyes looked up at the ceiling. Your gaze soon began to wander around the room, a smile settling upon your lips as the whole room just screamed ‘Mark’; from the slightly messy desk decorated with various lyric sheets to the polaroid picture he kept of the two of you on his bedside table.

You two were so happy that day, running around the city as if you didn’t have a care in the world, and you didn’t. The only thing that mattered to the pair of you that day, was simply each other. Almost feeling your heart fill with warmth, your emotions overwhelmed you at what you laid your eyes on.

That guitar. His guitar. Mark’s guitar. The comforting instrument that accompanied you both through countless sleepless nights, lying in his lap with your eyes fluttering closed as the soft strumming along with Mark’s hushed, tired voice making you inwardly smile, you were exactly where you wanted to be.

Without another thought occupying your head, your feet stood up and brought you closer to the object until they took you directly before it. You contemplated for just a moment before chuckling and shaking your head of your worry-some thoughts.

Now, Mark had taught you a few chords here and there over the year that you had been together, but you didn’t know nearly enough to play a full song. Not dwelling on that fact, you picked up the acoustic guitar and held it in your arms.

“Okay, baby, place your fingers here, here and here.’ you could hear Mark’s voice in your head as you recalled the chord pattern. You brought your fingers over the strings as the chord’s beautiful sound raced around the room, the strings in mention vibrating under your fingertips.

The nostalgia seemed to run through you like the vibration of the guitar’s strum. After strumming a few more times you gained a rush of confidence before you added mindless adlibs and hums to your performance, the mere thought of Jungwoo catching you doing something so terribly embarrassing made you wince, but you currently weren’t concerned with that prospect, not in the slightest.

Until it all went so, so awfully wrong. A sharp turn while you were strumming non-melodically caused Mark’s precious, timeless guitar to collide with the wall, and oh, did it collide. The horror you felt envelope your body as a bang proceeded by the entirety of the neck belonging to Mark’s guitar snapped and fell to the floor, the sheer force it hit the wall with also caused the strings to snap in two.

So here you were, staring down at the two, demolished pieces of Mark’s heart at your feet as your mind put you in a whirlwind- what do you now? What will Mark say? Could you.. fix it? Is it possible to.. tie guitar strings together?

The sound of the front door opening followed by the boisterous voices of the other members rang throughout the dorm, sending waves of panic through your veins as you quickly picked up the evidence of your crime and stashed it at the back of Mark’s closet.

When said-boy entered the room you had your back facing him as you were swiftly closed the closet, twirling around at the sound of a tired, ‘hey, baby’

“Heyyy!” You said a little too loudly for it to be believable, “how was your day?”

Luckily for you, Mark was too exhausted that he didn’t catch on to your tone.

“Tiring, but we got a lot done today” the boy mumbled as he flopped onto his bed. “But I don’t wanna talk about work.”

“No?” You mused

“No,” Mark pouted and held his arms out, “I wanna cuddle my baby and take a nap”

You couldn’t say no to that, you smiled and settled in the warm arms of your boyfriend. You tried to relax yourself with the sound of Mark’s steady heartbeat, but the thought of Mark’s reaction to what you had done caused your breathing to quicken and your eyebrows to furrow.

“Can’t you sleep, babe?” Mark mumbled. Oh god, you thought, Mark could always tell when you felt uneasy.

“Mm-mm” you replied softly as you shook your head

“Awe, my baby,” the dusty-blonde cooed as he sat up. “Want me to play you a lil’ smn’ to send you off to sleep?”

If your heart wasn’t currently beating out of your chest, you would’ve found Mark’s words endearing and agreed- instead you said:

“NO!” You erupted and sat up immediately, “I mean- no, thanks. If you start playing then we’ll just have another karaoke session” you smiled, in turn making the boy across from you giggle.

Mark nodded and open his blankets for you to snuggle under with him, you buried your head in his chest as you forced your eyes shut. Go to sleep, y/n. Just fall asleep, everything will be fine if you just-

“Baby, is something wrong?”

“Uh- no, w-what makes you say that?” You spluttered back

“Y/n, I can feel you shaking and you sound like you’re about to cry. I know somethings bothering you.. you don’t have to tell me but I want to know if somethings upsetting you- or if I’m upsetting you”

You took a shaky breath as Mark moved away from you and gazed at you in bewilderment, eyes laced with concern as he gently wiped a stray tear from your cheek.

It was that, that broke you. You broke down into tears and uncontrollable sobs as your hands flew over your face, Mark’s eyebrows furrowing as he sat up and pulled you into his lap.

“Shh, babygirl/boy, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you”

It took several minutes of Mark gently rubbing his hand up and down your back for you to calm your heaving breaths, his soft whispers of affirmations bringing you back to earth as he consoled you.

“Now.. why are we crying, baby?”

“I..I’m so sorry, Mark. I promise I didn’t mean it, if you don’t wanna see me anymore I completely understand but just know that I’ll always love you and-”

“Y/n, slow down.” Mark’s voice brought you out of your panicked speech as you gazed into his warm, brown eyes in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. “What are you sorry for?”

You took a deep breath before admitting, “..I broke your guitar” you uttered out meekly, feeling tears well up again as a result of you admitting your antics out loud.

“Oh baby,” Mark let out a huge sigh of relief as he took both of your hands in his, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, “you had me really worried there”

“You’re.. you’re not mad?”

“Angel its just a guitar, you’re so much more important to me” he reassured you as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “I’m more upset that you got so worried because you were scared that I’d be mad”

You sighed and shook your head, “Mark, I know that guitar is important to you. I know that you’ve had it since you were little.. I know that I’d be devastated if I were you, I’d probably never speak to me again.”

The boy before you took you in his arms once again and settled beneath the blankets. He cupped your face as if you could shatter at any second.

“Babygirl/boy I can take the guitar to the shop to get fixed.. or just get another one. There are a million guitars in the world, but there’s only one of you”

~ epilogue ~

“So, babe, how exactly did you break my guitar?”

It was at that very moment your eyes widened and you spat your orange juice out during breakfast the day after your musical shenanigans.

“I uh-”

“You broke Mark’s guitar?” Asked a shocked Jaehyun, “Mark has had that guitar for 4 years and even he hasn’t broke it.. I’m weirdly impressed but.. how did you break it?”

All nine pairs of eyes turned to you before you winced and admitted:

“So I may or may not have been dancing around in your room pretending I was a performer when I may have possibly... accidentally.. smashedhisguitarintoawallwhenispunaround”

It’s safe to say you never heard the end of that story from the other boys- especially your boyfriend.

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omniscientwreck · 4 years ago

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Day 6: Time & Transformation // Temptation

Day 6 of @shadowgastweek (I’m very late I know I’m sorry!)

Please enjoy this little glimpse into the future I hope the wizards will get one day, please let me know what you think!

“Caleb?”

“Ja?” The wizard looks over, silver hairs peeking through the copper and he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose looking over from the loveseat where his papers and books were sprawled across the dark upholstery.

A familiar, grin spreads freely across his features.

“Can I tempt you away from your studies for a moment?”

Eyebrows raise and a mischievous glint, “Well you know, this is some important work I’m doing. I’m not sure if you can compete.”

Gliding over, Essek leans down over the human’s form, sporting his own devilish grin. The wizard’s eyes raked over him with a hunger. That could wait. They have time. “Oh I assure you I can be quite compelling.” And he leans in to kiss Caleb. Kissing him is so comfortable, safe, it fills him with a warmth he’d never previously known. It’s been years and it still excites him when their lips connect. Caleb’s short stubble scrapes a bit before they part, Essek righting himself and offering Caleb a hand.

“I have to say Thelyss, you make a good case. What is it?”

“I just wanted to talk with you, about tomorrow.”

As Caleb stands he smiles reassuringly, “Mein Engel, you are still nervous?” He grabs for Essek’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Caleb’s hands are strong and his fingers are wider than Essek’s. It’s easy to feel reassured in his grasp, familiar callouses rough as Caleb’s thumb rubs circles into his hand. “The spell has been performed many times without issue, we’ve got it figured out. I’m certainly excited to see what happens.”

Essek nods, “Of course I am excited too, but well. The other times it was you and now it’s me and transmutation certainly isn’t my specialty.”

A gentle laugh falls from Caleb’s lips and he squeezes Essek’s hand, “You know you really don’t give yourself enough credit. You quite nearly pioneered an entire school of magic. You’ve been it’s foremost scholar and teacher for some time. I understand nerves but I promise you I trust your ability. You’ll have the rest of the Nein there, Veth has had it done to her and the rest were there with us the first time. I will be okay. Besides, won’t you be happy for me to be rid of some of these age markers?”

He winks at Essek, teasing, already knowing the answer. “You grow more beautiful every day Caleb, I have never once regretted the aging of your body. You know very well it’s not about looks, it’s about time.” Caleb stops their walking and wraps his arms around him, pulling Essek in and kissing him gently, chastely. “Regardless of how old you look or what happens tomorrow I intend to stay by your side until death. But we only have one life so we may as well lengthen our time.”

Caleb kisses the tip of his nose and they continue outside of their home. The dark of the night engulfs them and the glow of the stars is vibrant as always, Essek looks at his husband and tries to quell the nerves, the anticipation, when a voice fills his mind, “Hey Essek it’s Jester! I couldn’t wait to see you and Caleb until tomorrow, it’s been so long and I’ve missed you so much. I’m-” the spell cuts off and he waits a few moments to see if she plans to recast.

When he hears nothing he responds, out loud so Caleb can hear, “Hello Jester. It is good to hear from you. We’re home and I believe you know our address. You’re welcome at any time.”

Caleb’s crows feet crinkle around his still piercing blue eyes, “Well, if Jester’s here then so is Fjord and I can’t imagine the others are far behind. We should prepare the guest beds.”

They float inside to welcome their friends and briefly Essek’s anxiety is pushed to the back of his mind.

-----

Long ago he’d finally stopped referring to the Nein as ‘Caleb’s friends’ and accepted his role in their lives and allowed them to step into their roles in his properly. Agents of change, bestowers of affection, it’s been about a year since they last saw everyone together.

Ten years ago when they defeated Lucien the group took a break. Jester and Fjord split off to Nicodranas with Veth, Caduceus went home, Yasha and Beau had posted up mainly in Zadash, and Essek and Caleb spent a great deal of time travelling and exploring. Whenever one of the Nein called they all answered, whether it was something as simple as providing fire power when Beau had an investigation or something as momentous as tying up loose ends from their past, they remained steadfast to one another.

Jester, Fjord, and Veth and her family are the first to arrive and Essek opens a well aged wine. Luc is a teenager at this point and he’s becoming a bit of a menace at the amusement of his uncles. Caleb had previously taught him message and he’s been getting a lot of mileage out of it. Jester and Fjord have stories from having come back from a few months at sea, helping with some errands for merchant ships for old times’ sake.

Their home feels full and alive, and the next moring when Beau and Yasha arrive, and then Caduceus it feels like the family is whole again.

They begin digging clay out of the back yard just as they had the first time and as everyone assumes their positions, laughing and joking, filling the backyard with cacophonous uproar, Essek is hit with nostalgia.

He misses travelling with them, having them by his side and standing at theirs throughout some of the worst confrontations in history. He misses the jokes they lob his way with ease, Fjord and Veth hurling insults back and forth, all of it. It seems like so much time has passed since they had last upturned his yard to help a friend into a new form, but in his comparatively long life it’s hardly any time at all.

They assemble the clay, sprinkling in diamond dust and Essek is basically useless with nerves, they’ve created the trough, incorporated the diamond dust. All that’s left is him. They pause to eat, Caduceus’ cooking a welcome break from the day’s preparations.

Dinner is delicious, and loud, full of stories Luc and Yeza have heard dozens of times but still delightful all the same. As they finish eating and prepare to cast the rest clean up as Essek floats outside to check their arrangement one last time. He feels a punch land on the back of his shoulder, where he was once marked by the Nonagon and Beau surveys alongside him, the day’s work. “Hey man, you okay?”

He should be used to her check-ins but she still puts him on edge despite their ‘beef’ as she put it having been ‘squashed’ years ago. “I am alright. This is a big deal and well, I just want to perform well.”

“You will.” She rubs his shoulders a bit and continues, “You know, I didn’t think you deserved him. Even after we figured our shit out and you like became cool. I didn’t think you were good enough for him. Thanks for proving me wrong, you’re good people and I know you’ll take care of him. You’re nervous because you care and that shows me a lot about you. You’ve always been that way but. Well, I see the way you look at him, it’s just real fucking nice.”

All he can do in response is nod and swallow hard, he doesn’t have words to explain what the reassurance means. He kneels down to ensure the dimensions are right for the fiftieth time and the others come out breaking the silence.

“Ah- before we begin can I steal him quickly?” Caleb asks his friends as if they have somewhere else to be or any reason to deny the couple a few words. He takes Essek a good distance away so they can talk without being overheard. “Schatz, are you ready?”

“It feels like I should be asking you that. You know the form you would like to assume?”

Caleb nods, “Just as we discussed, we’ll put us on a more even playing field.”

Essek tucks a stray strand of copper hair behind a rounded ear and looks at his husband’s face one last time, “I can’t say I won’t miss this view Widogast, you are a most striking man.”

Caleb just laughs and kisses him gently, “Well you have much to look forward to.”

They stay like that for a moment, hands clasped, pulling their bodies close, eye to eye. Determination and a stoic resilience fall over Essek and he nods to Caleb, “Ready?”

“Ready.”

All told the casting is uneventful. The Nein are knelt in a circle around Caleb with Essek at the head, kissing him one last time before beginning the incantation. As the wind picks up and arcane lines and symbols light up, Essek’s concentration is stone cold. The clay begins slowly building over Caleb, covering his face entirely and as the view of his partner is taken from him he seems to connect on a deeper level to Caleb’s psyche. They think together of the chosen form, and he can feel a reassuring wave come off of Caleb as he continues reciting the incantation. The runes light and as he continues casting and putting everything he has into ensuring their mutual happiness. His voice gradually rises and arcane power swirls around them, hair freely whipping around the faces of his friends, watching with confidence, Yasha smiling knowingly at him across the vessel. He can feel the heat radiating as his hands pass over Caleb and at the hour the clay bursts, the ensuing wave of arcane energy pushes him back a foot or so, even in his kneeling position. The light from the spell is snuffed instantly and the night is dark again. Before them is Caleb anew.

He brushes clay away from his face with slender fingers, gently sitting up as Jester helps him. Essek floats over, kneeling beside him where he sits.

Caleb turns to look at him, he has the same copper hair and bright blue eyes, but the skin is smooth and free of stubble, his ears narrow to a point, and his features are just a little finer.

They did it.

Caleb looks at Essek for a moment, not dissimilar from the look they’d shared as they met at the altar the day they were wed, “So this is what you look like in the dark.”

He cups Essek’s face with a smooth hand and laughs lightly as the Nein begin chattering around them, Essek doesn’t hear what they say as Caleb brings his new lips to Essek’s and they’re locked in their second first kiss. Pulling back slightly, Essek’s laughter rings out and they press their foreheads together. He feels someone wrap their arms around the two of them and eventually the rest of the Nein join. In the middle of the large group hug two wizards hold each other and time stretches before Essek as the full gravity of the what they’ve done makes his heart soar. Time will catch up eventually, it always does, but for now they have plenty.

#shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #critical role #critfic #shadowgastweek2021 #I just wanted to write romantic semi-domestic fluff okaaay #god i love these two so much

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rightsockjin · 4 years ago

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For the Record

Summary: Namjoon owns a record shop. It’s more for the nostalgia than anything but he loves to see the happiness on someone’s face when he can recommend a good record to someone who’s never owned one before. Enter you, but you’re not looking for a record. You’re looking for a helping hand and a gentleman. Namjoon is happy to oblige.

Rating: M

Genre: SMUT! Crack... I got carried away....

Warnings: A little blood. Nipple play. Sexual activities in a store. There is spanking. Daddy. Princess. Baby girl. Hiding. Fingering. Namjoon’s hands... mentions of big dick Joon. Open ending??? Provocative dress. Clumsy reader. Cute Joon.

Word count: 6,061

Author’s note: 죄송합니다! 죄송합니다! I’m sooooo sorry... I got way too carried away and I still feel like it’s unfinished.... it’s longer than intended....

Have a great day and I hope that you enjoy your record,” Namjoon said to the girl who had been browsing the shop for the last two hours. His heart was beating fast as he watched her walk away. Her hips swayed from side to side as her hair swished behind her. He’d genuinely thought she was pretty and he’d spent the whole time she was walking around trying to muster the courage to ask for her number but when she had come up with one of the oldest records in his shop and a big bright smile to check out, he’d choked and inevitably let her walk out without even finding out her name.

He felt his whole body relax as he sat back in his old- or how he liked to call it- vintage, rolling chair. It expelled a ridiculous amount of air and the cushion flattened slowly under his weight. It was nearly closing time on a Friday and yet again he had no plans after work. No girlfriend, no dates, no hookup… not that Namjoon was the type to hook up. Which, he guessed, was the reason it was so difficult for him. Most people his age wanted a quick hook up and he… he wanted something real. And it scared people away it seemed.

He twirled his chair from side to side. The silence in the shop made him anxious so he reached over to one of the newer models of the record players that were on display and turned it on. He couldn’t remember what record was playing on it but it was soothing and kind of jazzy. He let his eyes close and simply enjoyed the music. It caressed his ears with its slightly grainy and deep sound. It made him think of dark coffee and libraries. His thoughts seemed to be playing in black and white and he could almost see an old-time-y club from the 20s with a live band and girls with short hair and flapper dresses.

He could see himself in a corner of the venue in a jet black suit and a perfect white button-up with some glasses and a dark tie. A glass of some fancy alcohol was in one ringed hand as he watched people dancing.

A woman had caught his attention. She was faceless but wearing an incredibly low cut flapper dress that, though he was seeing it in shades of grey, was a golden yellow that jingled with every step over the loudness of the music-

Wait. That’s the bell of the store!

Namjoon jumped, his eyes shooting open. He felt groggy like he’d just taken a nap but one look at his watch told him that he had only been resting his eyes for a couple of minutes. Right after that realization, he looked up and around to see who had walked in. When at first, his eyes were met with no one, he was confused. It was completely possible that he had imagined the sound but he didn’t think it was the case.

Reluctantly, he stood up to get a better vantage point and was quick to find someone cowering behind one of the many displays covered in records.

He wasn’t sure what to do. You seemed to be alright. At least, he thought you did, but also you were hiding. Was it from him? Were you a thief? He wasn’t sure.

Were thieves usually dressed in mustard yellow sundresses and strappy straw wedges? No. He didn’t think so. You seemed more so like a random person who was…maybe checking out the boxes under the tables? Then again, you weren’t really looking at the records. Instead, you were looking at the glass windows and door with what looked like- was it fear? Disgust?

He struggled with himself on what to do. One hand, you could be in some sort of danger, but on the other hand…he did have a microwave dinner waiting for him at home.

Who was he kidding? He had nothing to do for the night and he supposed he could keep the store open for a little while longer if it was to help an innocent person.

“Excuse me,” Namjoon said loudly and you flinched.

He flinched reflexively as your head snapped to look at him. Your doe eyes were wide like a car was ready to hit you full force. Your pretty hair tumbled down your back in waves that hardly seemed possible without some sort of heat and your cute button of a nose shone in the fluorescent lights of the shop.

Namjoon had never seen a woman more beautiful and ethereal than you. It was like he was staring at an angel that had been sent down from heaven just for him. Was there a God? Namjoon had never believed there was but looking at the masterpiece that was you, made him think that there must have been because someone had to create this work of art before him. His mouth went dry, it was suddenly harder to breathe, and all thoughts and words and languages were absent from his brain. Years of study down the drain. What point was there to his impeccable English grades when he couldn’t properly utilize it to converse with a woman of such beauty?

Okay so it was working in his brain so why were no words coming out of his mouth? How does one speak again?

“S-sorry,” he slurred through his useless tongue, instantly beating himself up. He cleared his throat awkwardly and tried to swallow, but his mouth may as well have been filled with cotton or saltines because it was as dry as the Sahara. Water. He needed water.

He looked around for his bottle but couldn’t seem to find it. When was the last time he had seen it? He’d drank some of the water during his lunch break after he had choked on a particularly hard potato chip then his phone had rung and-

“I’m really sorry,” you whispered back not really sure why you guys were speaking at such volume but you went with it, “I know it’s kind of late and I saw that your store closes in like five minutes but can I just hide in here until then?”

Namjoon snapped his head back to you. He blinked owlishly as you silently begged with your Bambi eyes. Two shimmering stars sparkled in each iris. Your pinkened lips were pulled into the most adorable pout he’d ever seen. And that included puppies and babies. How could he possibly say no?

“Uh,” he took a deep breath trying to get his mouth to function properly, “yeah- yes! Of course…uh… take your time.”

Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck nervously hoping that he didn’t seem too eager and therefore creepy in your eyes, but your shoulders relaxed and a small endearing smile graced your pouty lips.

“Thank you! Thank you, I promise I’ll buy one of these…” you paused looking at the slightly dust-covered box before you-geez, Namjoon really had to dust again-with a perturbed expression, “jukebox thingies?”

Record scratch. Jukebox thingies? Jukebox thingies? Were you kidding? You had to be kidding. Beautiful and funny. What a combo. Namjoon giggled, thinking that this was the correct way to react to your joke but your confused, raised eyebrow stopped him in his tracks.

Oh no. You weren’t kidding. Did you really not know what these thingies were? Who didn’t know what a record was? How young were you? Fear shocked his spine and he blushed. Had he just been ogling a minor? In his defense, you looked at least 20 but he guessed you could be around eighteen if he stretched his perfective a bit. But anything younger than that wasn’t feasible. Yet, the only explanation was that you had to be far younger than he was accounting for. Kids these days… they dress really inappropriately for their age.

“No kid, those are records. Are you hiding from your parents or something?” Namjoon asked, suddenly a little irritated.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him and Namjoon forced himself to look away. He was not going to look at you in a weird way. He had higher respect for himself than that. He likes women.

“Parents? What are you talking about-” the ding of the bell from the front door stopped you in your tracks. You shut your mouth, your eyes once again wide and terrified as you glanced over to see who had walked in.

On all fours, you squeaked almost inaudibly and scurried away from your spot and over to another table. Namjoon watched you, perplexed and a bit amused as you tried your best to be silent. Your puppy dog face made its appearance once more from the other side of the table and he rolled his eyes ready to give up to whomever it was that was here for you. Your dad probably?

With a roll of his eyes and a smug smile, he turned over to the door as heavy footsteps echoed behind the quiet music. His stomach sank into his ass when he saw who had walked in. A man, clearly far too young to be a father but definitely not young enough to be in high school like he had originally thought you might have been. And this guy looked flummoxed and partially upset. He had the looks of a Greek God and shoulders wider than he’d ever seen. He was a good couple of inches shorter than Namjoon but he would not be prudent to pick a fight with him.

“Hi! Welcome to Disc-O Overload,” he said in his best customer service voice, “I’m really sorry sir but I’m just about to close up shop so if you could come back tomorrow-”

“Yeah, yeah, look I’m not here for your shop okay? Have you seen a girl walk by here? About this tall,” he held a hand up so that it was level with his cheek, “wavy hair? Great ass?”

Namjoon balked. Instinctively, he wanted to look at you almost as if to confirm what the man was asking but then that would give you away for sure and he didn’t have a great feeling about this jerk.

“I- great ass? I haven’t seen,” he cleared his throat feeling that he was about to say something that would be both good and probably really bad, “anyone like that here today… do you know what they were wearing?”

The man scoffed and rolled his eyes as if he was annoyed that you couldn’t just find this girl for him, “yellow dress? Real low cut? Heels I think? Listen, man, I was on a date with her and the bitch straight up climbed out of the bathroom window! Can you believe it?”

Yes. Namjoon could easily believe it. The guy’s cognitive dissonance was unbelievable. He didn’t seem dangerous but he sure as hell wasn’t going to give you up if you were that desperate to get away. Clearly, if you were on a date with this he-man, you must be of age because this man had to be in his late 20s. Thank God.

“No, I really can’t,” Namjoon said with a fake smile, “but uh… I think I saw her walk past here, now I think about it,” he said thinking quickly. The man perked up instantly and out of the corner of his eye, he saw you tense. He kept his gaze fixated on the man before him, adamant that he wouldn’t give you away.

“Which way did she go,” he asked eagerly. Namjoon almost felt guilty for misleading him, but one minuscule glance in your direction was enough to push his little white lie on.

“I think she was headed for that donut shop around the corner. I hear they have some fantastic glazed.”

The man sighed in disgust, “Yeah she looked like a fattie. The dress she was wearing was practically bursting at the seams,” he sighed, “I guess you can’t have a great ass without fat elsewhere.”

Namjoon could not believe what he was hearing. Men like this still existed? How do these people breed? It is a miracle that the man wasn’t walking on all fours and picking at his hair for fleas as sustenance.

“R-right,” he said when he realized that the man was waiting for him to answer.

“Anyway, thanks for the help.” He slapped something down on the counter then winked at Namjoon.

“Here, I think you’ll need this when this shit show,” he gestured at the store, “goes under. More power to you.”

Then with a smug look, he walked slowly out of the store. His fancy shoes hitting the linoleum floor like the blood that pounded in his ears. What an ass. What a selfish, horrible awful excuse of a human-

The door fell shut of its own accord and it snapped Namjoon back into reality. The red in the corners of his vision ebbed and he walked over to the door to lock it before he came back. He left a crap taste in his mouth. No wonder you had climbed out the bathroom window.

Namjoon pulled the curtains shut so that the night sky was covered and if that ass decided to come back he wouldn’t be able to see you. It was only when it had been fully covered that Namjoon felt his shoulders relax and the anger leave his body slowly.

He really needed to buy himself a new bonsai to soothe his nerves. The world was full of idiots.

When he turned around, you were standing and he realized that the guy had been right about two things. You had a great ass and your dress… was really low cut. Damn. The face of an angel and the body of a… of a…

Was he drooling? Why was his face a little wet? Namjoon blinked and reached up to his mouth to wipe. Low and behold…wait was that blood?

Panic filled his veins as he felt it drip down his chin. The cherry red was alarming but what was more alarming was the fact that it was coming from his nose! Instantly, he pinched his nostrils so that it stopped the flow. Have you seen it? Of course, you had seen! You’re standing right there! With your great ass and fantastic legs and perky- okay stop it Namjoon that’s not helping the situation.

How embarrassing. This hadn’t happened to him since he was in middle school. Why now did his body revert to its prepubescent functions?

“Oh my God are you alright,” You said, taking a couple of steps towards him but Namjoon held a hand out to stop you. He didn’t want to get blood on you. God, he wanted to disappear. If the floor could swallow him up right then he would be grateful.

“Yeah,” he said in a high pitched nasally voice, “Yeah happens all the time…” he lied. Great. Now you probably thought he had some weird problem with his nose. Real nice, Namjoon. “Oh, uh… do you have napkins or something? Uh… I think I have a tampon somewhere in my bag…”

“Behind the counter,” he said imagining just how stupid he would look with a tampon stuck up his nose. It was the last thing he needed. He watched you walk cautiously to the counter and start to move things around. It was then that he realized that he’d put the napkins he’d used for lunch in a drawer that was under lock and key. Don’t ask him why, he couldn’t tell you but there was no way you would be able to get into it without the keys that…were strapped to the belt loop of his denim jeans.

“I don’t see them,” you said as he walked over carefully so that he didn’t bump into anything.

“I’m sorry,” he said before taking a deep breath through his mouth, “they’re in the drawer with the keyhole… they’re on my belt loop.”

You blinked up at him then looked down at his waist. He silently prayed to whatever God made you to please, please(!) let his nether regions behave but he feared the worst. If his nose was gone, his dick had to be at least halfway there. And…not to toot his own horn but he wasn’t exactly small.

He saw your eyes glaze over for a second and his heart skipped a beat. It was only for a second though because you shook your head and were reaching across the divide. Namjoon kept his head tilted back, his eyes staring at the popcorn ceiling.

Gentle as the breeze, he felt your hand gingerly touch the keys on his belt loops. It wasn’t hard to unclip, he knew as much and you seemed to have been taking extra care to not touch anywhere that didn’t need to be touched.

It was a flood gate of relief when he felt you successfully unclip the ring from his jeans without incident but the discomfort in his pants told him that while the blood was running out of his nose, it was also rushing straight between his legs.

He felt the humiliation fill him as he heard you unlocked the drawer. Why… he would have rather his night have gone how he had originally thought, boring and uneventful than this shit show he was in. It’s not like he had a chance with you.

“Hey, um…what’s your name?” You asked and Namjoon looked down at you. He was met with your pretty eyes and a soft inquisitive smile.

“N-Namjoon. I’m Namjoon.”

“Namjoon,” you confirmed with a nod, “you should sit.”

You gestured to his chair which was a bit of way behind you. He complied, still holding his nose out of fear. It started to feel dry enough but he was scared that it would start again if he looked- gulp- down.

It was then that he realized his huge mistake. Now he was sitting, he was level not with your face but with your chest. Your milky, exposed…soft-looking chest. Fuck. He forced his eyes to meet yours. A smirk was pressed across your pretty lips, or was he imagining it? The white lights framed you like a halo and he had to wonder if you had set him up for this. It was too perfect. The light, the level, the proximity of your body to his.

“Here let me help,” you said bending at the waist. Danger! Danger! Keep your eyes up Namjoon! Don’t look into her dress!

“Ah-I got it!” he nearly yelled pushing his chair farther away from you, his dick pulsed painfully against his jeans. Why had he chosen the tighter ones that day?

“No really let me help! It’s the least I can do to repay you for letting me hide in here past your closing time.”

“It was no big deal,” he said trying to avoid you as you got closer once again. You scrunched up your nose and lunged forward again. Namjoon tried to dodge but cornered himself against the wall. There was nowhere to go and you weren’t letting up.

You grabbed onto the armrests and held the chair from moving. The napkins were in your hand ready to use. You smiled sweetly at him. Why did it feel like a threat?

“You saved a damsel in real distress. I think it was a big deal Namjoon, please?”

How could he refuse? How was he supposed to refuse you when you were so close and you smelled so good and every time you moved, your steep neckline gave room for him to look right into the depths of…

“Oh alright… can I at least get your name?”

You brightened triumphantly, as a smile that was less smug than it was the picture of adorable graced your lips. You gave him whiplash. How could you be both cute and the epitome of sexy? Were you ever trying or was this just you?

“I suppose it’s only fair,” you said, “my name is Y/N but most people call me Bambi for obvious reasons.”

“Do you like it?” Namjoon asked slightly freaked out that he’d thought of that equivalent to you earlier.

Gently, you took the wrist of the hand holding his nose and had him remove it. He felt a bit of blood move as soon as he had but you wasted no time in wiping at it with the napkins. It was so gentle that he could have fallen asleep.

“I don’t mind it,” you shrugged, leaning in a little closer to wipe something he couldn’t see. Suddenly, he felt you nudge his legs closed and you straddled them between your own still standing. Then, ever so slowly, you raised your right led and wedged it between his left thigh and the armrest.

“Sorry, do you mind?” You asked him sugar-sweet, “It’s better leverage.”

“I uh…” words… what were words again. When Namjoon couldn’t think of the right thing to say, he simply held up an ok sign and leaned back on the chair. If his heart would take a chill pill, that would be great.

“Kind of a nightmare huh,” you said and his heart did a full stop. Could you read minds as well?

“Wha-what is?”

“My date,” you said with a laugh that was supposed to diffuse the tension but he could tell you were uncomfortable.

“Oh. Yeah…”

“Found him on an app for people in their 20s who are supposedly ready to settle down but that guy was anything but marriage material.”

You dabbed carefully at his nostril but the blood was starting to dry. Luckily, it wasn’t flowing anymore. Unbeknownst to you, it was for a very BIG reason.

“Yeah. The guy was a real dick,” Namjoon said chuckling lightly as your hand came up to his head. You held your hand against his cheek and steadied his head so you could try to get as much of the blood off his face as you could. Wow… he had a pretty face…

Your legs slipped further onto the chair until your knee was flush against the backrest. You were a short woman, and Namjoon was a long man. It was almost no surprise when your back leg slipped slightly-darn those stupidly slippery yet absolutely adorable wedges- and your ass landed directly on his thighs.

He’d have to be dead to not feel the intense amount of heat that was radiating from between your legs. And Namjoon was not dead, at least, he hoped he wasn’t, because this was his definition of heaven and he wasn’t sure what was real at that moment. His member twitched impatiently in his pants. He felt a deep blush rise to his cheeks as you glanced up at him apologetically and slightly terrified.

Namjoon swallowed hard. His chest was rising and falling rapidly.

Think with your brain, not with your dick. Think with your brain, not with your dick. Think with your brain, not with your-

“I-I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay! I mean- it’s not your fault! I uh…” Namjoon stuttered.

“It’s my shoes.”

“Yeah they’re cute,” he said clearly thinking with his dick.

“I slipped and-wait what?”

Namjoon would have facepalmed if he had any blood left in his body and his arms had any feeling left in them but he settled for connecting his eyebrows.

“Sorry… sometimes I speak without thinking.”

Namjoon chose that moment to shift under you. Electric pleasure coursed into your belly through the thick fabric of his pants. You bit your lip to stop yourself from having a reaction but Namjoon noticed.

“Would-“ he cleared his throat and shifted slightly once again, you hissed, “would it be…better leverage if you had both your legs on the chair?” It was an invitation but it was indirect enough that he hoped you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.

It took a second for you to understand, but then a brief picture of you pushing his head into your chest popped in your head and understanding dawned on you.

“Oh uh… yes actually I- I think that would be much- much better.”

Had Namjoon heard you correctly? Had you just agreed? He must be dreaming. He had to be. But then you were adjusting, and your knee had joined your right at the backrest on either side of his thighs. You were sitting up so that he had to strain his head to look you in the eyes. Your chest was once again easily accessible to him yet he wasn’t sure if he could look.

“Can I ask you something,” you questioned, dabbing at his nose as an excuse to get closer to his face even though he was as clean as he was gonna get without water and soap.

“Mhm.” If he wanted, he could reach up slightly and kiss your delectable lips.

“You really think I have a great ass?”

Namjoon’s stomach twisted. Was this a trap?

“I um- I mean- not that I was looking per se but uh yeah...”

A pause followed shortly in which you balled up the napkin and threw it over your shoulder. Then you brought your attention back to him. Your cheeks were rouged and your pupils were blown wide. You were breathing almost as heavily as Namjoon was.

“What if,” another pause in which you let your eyes study his every feature, “I want you to look?”

“I-what?” No way. This was a wet dream. He was going to wake up any moment now and he would be in his bed with his sheets ruined. He just knew it.

You used the hand that had been taking care of the napkin to grab his wrist again and guided it to the swell of your ass. His hand molded onto the curve almost as if it was made to hold it and you clenched around nothing as he gently squeezed.

You let go of his face and grabbed his other hand. He didn’t fight you. He let you lead him onto your chest, the swell of your breast seeming just the right amount of big for him. It wasn’t huge but it wasn’t small. It was the goldilocks of breasts, he thought before he rolled his eyes internally at himself.

“Is this okay,” you asked him, suddenly feeling self-conscious when he didn’t move or so much as blink at you, “I don’t really do this kind of thing like- ever… and I understand if you want me to just back off-”

“No!” He pulled and pushed you closer to his body roughly with the hold he had on you.

“I mean… no. It’s fine I- I don’t do it often either. I’ve had sex- I meant just not casually? Not that there’s anything wrong with casual sex or anything, I’m not judging in the slightest I’m just saying that I don’t usually sleep around… not that sleeping around is a judgment-”

“Namjoon?”

“Yes?” He breathed, glad for the interruption.

“I got it.”

“Oh,” he chuckled, “okay… sorry.”

“It’s alright just… do you wanna-”

“Yes!” He was too eager. He knew he sounded it and if you could feel the way that his body throbbed you would feel it too but he couldn’t help it. Something about you was alluring in a way he’d never felt. It was like you were a magnet and he was metal. He couldn’t pull away if he tried.

It was true, Namjoon didn’t usually do things like this but it felt okay. This one time it felt like he NEEDED to sleep with you. Like it would all fall into place if he did. Usually, he’d at least buy you dinner and take you on a couple of dates. He shrugged off his thoughts. He’d deal with that moral dilemma later.

Right then, he was a little too focused on the way he could feel your nipple in the center of his palm.

He graced his thumb over the erect nub. You shivered with the minimal contact. Namjoon watched the goosebumps erupt all over your arms. So you had sensitive nipples? He stored that in the back of his mind. He did it again, this time putting a little more pressure on the spot and you arched into him.

Embarrassed, you bit your lips and giggled. Namjoon could write poetry about the sound on its own.

“It’s okay, Baby girl,” Namjoon said slipping a little too fast into his sex mode, “you don’t have to be embarrassed.

He leaned forward and kissed the skin between your breasts tenderly. Another wave of excitement ran through you.

Namjoon hooked his thumb into the neckline and pulled it back slightly. With a quick glance up to make sure it was okay with you. you confirmed by giving him a quick nod. He pulled it all the way to the side to reveal you weren’t wearing a bra. He had not expected that. But was he complaining? Hell no. he wasted no time in kissing the exposed skin. His lips were warm against your nipple and the little pecks were driving you crazy. Wow, if he was this good with his mouth up here… you could only imagine what he would be like a bit lower.

His tongue ventured out and licked a thick stripe on the bud. The warmth and wetness of his tongue contrasted heavily with the coolness of the store. He didn’t hesitate to trace your areola then noisily suck in your nipple. His hand was cupping under your boob to keep it in place. Your core was throbbing painfully. You needed him to touch you. You need to touch him.

You felt his hand pull the other side of your dress aside. The cold air nipped at your skin as his fingers went to work, tweaking and pulling lightly at the raised skin.

You moaned deep in your throat, moving your hips uncomfortably above his hips. You couldn’t take it anymore. You reached down and pulled at the neat bow on your hip that held the two ends of the dress together. It untied easily exposing your front entirely to him.

Namjoon felt the fabric give way. He pulled his lips from your chest and the small hickey he’s started to make and looked down in inquisition. What met his unexpectant eyes was your nearly naked body in full view. Bra absent and black, silk panties present. They wrapped intricately onto your stomach. Attractively.

“Damn am I lucky that your date was awful… look at this pretty little thing you have for daddy,” Namjoon groaned aa a flash of embarrassment hit him. He’d really just thrown that out there like a live bomb. He looked up at you, expecting your to be disgusted or have some strong, unpleasant reaction to what he’d said but-

“Daddy?… noted,” you said with a smile.

“Is that alright?”

“I’m a daddy’s girl so… I’d say it is.”

Perfect. How could this be any more perfect?

You grabbed the hand on your boob and dragged it down into your underwear. Namjoon swallowed as he felt just how wet you already were. You were gushing. With what felt like practiced ease, he found your clit and gave it a soft stroke. You were sensitive. So, so sensitive. A moan was ripped out of you instantly.

“That’s it princess… so good for daddy.”

A resounding smack vibrated in your ears. A gasp escaped your pink lips and your doe eyes were back.

“Do that again.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He spanked your ass again, harder. It pushed you further into his big hand. He rubbed your clit in fast tight circles. He wanted to see you come undone. He wanted to make you writhe under him, he wanted you to scream his name.

It wasn’t long before he had you on the cusp of what was going to be a fantastic orgasm. His dick throbbed painfully but he didn’t care. He was always a big giver and for you, oh God for you… he could do this all night if you let him. Anything to make that angelic face twist in what could only be described as pure pleasure. This is what it was like to make an angel his.

“D-daddy… I think I’m gonna-”

“Cum little doe… cum for me.”

A gurgled moan left your lips as you were thrust into the eye of the orgasm. Your body tensed and little stars began to dance behind your closed eyelids. You convulsed as Namjoon pushed his fingers into your heat mid-orgasm and continued to draw circles with his thumb. He spanked you again and again as you rode it out.

You shivered and twitched in his hold. Lewd, loud squelches left your core. It was embarrassing.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Namjoon growled. Your scent hit nostrils. He was going feral. God, he wanted to taste you. He spanked you one last time before he pulled his fingers tenderly from your heat. Almost instantly you collapsed into him. Exhausted from your experience.

“Whoa, hey Y/N, are you alright?”

You breathed against his wide shoulders and held onto his toned arms. In the back of your head you knew that you wanted to return the favor but you were so weak… you needed to recharge.

“Fine,” you breathed.

After a couple of seconds of rest you pushed yourself up and sat back on his thighs. His member was so hard that it almost hurt against your core.

“Your turn?”

Namjoon smiled, “Mmm I think I’m alright.”

You quirked a curious eyebrow at him, pulling your dress slightly over your chest.

“Don’t get me wrong, I want… you but I really should close up shop and it's getting kind of late.”

“Oh, right I hadn’t even thought of that.” You haphazardly tied your dress up again and pushed yourself off his lap. Namjoon mourned the loss of your weight on him but he knew it was for the best. He didn’t exactly have a condom or anything so it’s not like he could have had sex with you even if he wanted to but damn did he want to.

“Right… yeah I should go,” you agreed straightening yourself out awkwardly. When you were sure your breasts were well and covered you stepped around the counter to make your way out, that is until you realized it was locked.

“Could you maybe-”

“Oh yeah! Right, hold on.” Namjoon grabbed his keys then a box and a flat cardboard thing and turned towards you.

“Here, for the record, this is a record,” he said, holding up the flat thing you had seen earlier, “this is a record player,” he patted the box, “And this,” he grabbed a sticky note and a pen and stuck it to the front of the box while quickly scribing something down, “is my phone number. You know,” he paused, “in case you wanna learn about this jukebox thingy.” He chuckled at your expense and only then did you realize your mistake. Had you really called the records jukebox thingies? What an idiot.

“Oh God, how much is all of this?”

“On the house, well,” he sighed looking at what your date had set on the counter earlier, “Really it’s on your date. Guess that Ass was good for something after all.”

In his hand was a one hundred dollar bill. Namjoon smiled.

“Just leave the keys in the keyhole. I’ll fix it later and don’t hesitate to call if you need any help.”

“I won’t,” you said, majorly excited that your date had gone so horribly. You waved at the cute man behind the counter. Dimples popping out at you.

As you walked towards the door, arms full, you looked down at the record he had given you. In big colorful letters, the word Dynamite was written. Huh, you hadn’t ever heard of this- was it a band? You were always looking to expand your music taste.

You turned the key to open the door and the bell jingled above you. You glanced over your shoulder once more. Namjoon was watching you leave. Without a second thought, you gave your own ass a light spank and sent a wink his way.

Namjoon felt his whole body convulse with need as he watched you leave. What a fucking dream.

Read the rest here!

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andromedarune · 4 years ago

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[Piers/Reader] “Just One Night’s Rest”

DESCRIPTION: Babies really aren't your jam, but if it's so your best friend can get a good night's rest for once, you're willing to make an exception.

RATING: Teen and up (for adult language)

WORD COUNT: ~2,500

A/N: Hey so I have Piers brain rot (surprise, surprise) and wrote this fic when I was really super tired, so it might not be good but WHATEVER I TRIED MY BEST

(Inspired by some fan art of Piers with a Toxel I found on Twitter by Squidbiscuit)

(oh yah also this is a Gender-Neutral reader, so yah, right on)

* * *

It was another nippy evening in the gloomiest town in the entire region. You kept a brisk walk going while you made your way towards the further ends of the city; if you focused hard enough, you could just barely hear the sound of waves lashing out against the cliffs way beyond the tall, run-down buildings of Spikemuth. It’s been years since you’ve traveled down that area, and yet you still remember all the backpaths into the forest that led to the bluff, which had been technically off-limits for decades, now. You’d basically memorized everything about this damn city, which can’t really be too surprising, all things considered. It was home, after all.

But now wasn’t the time for running through the town, seeking thrills and nostalgia. No, you found yourself on this side of town because your best friend decided that he desperately needed your help for - oh, Arceus knows what - at damn near six o’clock at night. It wasn’t the first time he’s called you out here on short notice (and definitely wouldn’t be the last), so you had your own little pity-party before getting out of your comfy bed, putting back on all your winter gear, and trudging out into town.

It isn’t too long of a trip, thankfully; you march up to the tall, banged-up steel gate that leads up to his house, mindlessly tapping in the numerical password you’d memorized years before. It opens easily. You walk through, stuffing your cold hands into your jacket pockets as you make your way up the porch steps and knock on the doorbell.

A moment passes by.

You stand there, shifting your weight from foot to foot, awkwardly trying to move around to create warmth without looking like a total moron. Your eyes glance at the doorbell just a few inches away from the door. Probably still broken, you think to yourself. Fix your fucking shit, Piers.

Just before you think to call him, the door opens. Despite your best attempts, a snicker cuts through your mouth.

Piers really can never be described as someone who looks “put-together,” but seeing him now - serious Zigzagoon eyes, ponytail ridden with worrisome knots, black sweater notably wet in odd places with an even odder substance, the weird red rubber gloves that were duct-taped onto his limbs, expression reaching newfound levels of grumpiness that just screams ‘I have never been more dead inside in my life’ - it’s impossible to not laugh. He just looks down at you as you throw a hand over your mouth; at least he seems a bit relieved that you’re here.

“Sorry, sorry,” you eventually manage to say, “your face there was perfect.”

“Whatever you say…” is his grumbling reply.

The taller man moves aside for you to enter, and you happily do. While the house itself isn’t much to really note (Piers was never one to keep too much stuff, even though he’s lived here for ages, now), you were kind of surprised to see that even with there hardly being anything around to mess up, literally everything looked all sorts of, well, messed up. The couch had that strange gooey stuff along the cushions, singe marks lining the armrests as well; a coffee table had been toppled over, one of the legs entirely missing; a trail of what looks to be blank sheet music papers lined down from the kitchen and disappeared down the hall. You gave Piers a confused glance.

“This, uh… this isn’t a datura party, is it?”

Piers shoots you an overdramatic offended gasp.

“‘Course not! It’s just… well, uh, it’s…”

You open your mouth to say something, only for a distinct whine in the distance to cut you off. Immediately, you’re giving Piers a cold glare; the man laced his hands together, damn near going to a knee as he gave you the biggest set of pleading eyes he possibly could.

“Please, please, please - I really need your help!”

“I don’t do babies, Piers.”

“It’s just a little Toxel - hardly anythin’ like a human baby.”

“Oh, yeah, because a pokemon baby is so much easier to take care of.”

He couldn’t really argue with that. But you could still see the hopefulness in his eyes as he tiptoed closer to you.

“I seriously need your help, though… With the concerts and the gym gettin’ ready to open up for the season, I’m runnin’ all over the place. And Toxel are super finicky - they need constant supervision! It’s bad enough havin’ to watch the little guy when I’m workin’, but I haven’t even had an inch of sleep in weeks. Just one night - that’s all I’m askin’.”

“Why’re you asking me? I’m not the one who raised my baby sibling.”

“Marnie doesn’t have anythin’ on a baby Toxel. Besides, she’s staying the night at a friend’s house, and… well, you’re the only other person I can really trust with somethin’ like this.”

A loud crash in the distance catches your attention. You grimace, but when you return to look at your friend with the full intent of saying ‘Yeah, no,’ he’s got those big baby blue eyes glimmering down at you. Your grimace tightens. You’re stronger than this, don’t let him get to you.

“P-please,” he mutters pitifully, “I’ll… I’ll… I’ll owe you one - no, fifty! I’ll buy all your video games, give you front row seats to shows, buy you more stuffed animals from those overpriced shops you like - just please help me out here.”

Well, when he’s begging like that and making that face, it’s really hard to say no. You glance off to the side, pretending to be oh so inconvenienced by him when really it’s that odd look in his eyes that’s making you a bit weak in the knees.

“Uhg… fine. But just tonight. And it’s not my fault if anything else gets broken - I’m really no good with babies, Piers. You’ll totally owe me for life after this.”

Perhaps driven mad from his sleeplessness, he nods without hesitation. You watch as he frantically rips off the rubber gloves and tosses them over onto the couch, making an attempt to run his fingers through his hair when it immediately snags and pulls a helpless groan of frustration from his throat. You laugh a bit at that, though it’s laced with some pity.

Piers eventually guides you down the hall, pointing to the door just to the right; it’s partially open, the sounds of paper being ripped to shreds and the occasional croak of a baby Toxel all to be heard from its depths. Before you make you way down, he grabs your shoulders, forcing you to look up at him once more.

“I seriously can’t thank you enough. Toxel isn’t anythin’ to be scared of - he’s just a baby, after all. Even bein’ a poison-electric type, he can’t really hurt you too bad.”

“It’s not him I’m worried about...” you mumble out.

Piers chuckles a bit, giving you a gentle pat on the head.

“Don’t sweat it. He’s a toughie. I don’t think you could really hurt him if you tried. All I’m askin’ is that you keep an eye on him for a few hours, make sure he doesn’t eat nothin’ bad or completely destroy my house. But if it gets too much, just wake me up and I’ll take over - no problem, alright?”

You manage a nod. Piers gives you shoulders a little squeeze before turning on his heels.

“Ooookayy…” he suddenly slurs out, stumbling into a wall briefly before reorienting himself. “... ‘m goin’ to bed… see ya at six…”

“Yeah, uh, sure. Night…”

He hums, disappearing down the shadows of the hall with only the soft click of his door closing to be proof that he didn’t vanish into the void. Hesitantly, you glance over at the baby room, where now banging sounds can be heard. You take a deep breath, gathering up all your resolve before heaving a harsh exhale. Alright! I can do this! How bad can this Toxel be, anyway?

*Several God-Forsaken Hours Later…*

“Toxel, please,” you cried out, teetering left and right from a combination of balancing on the wobbly stool and from the sheer nausea you felt after getting hit face-first with a Toxic technique. Your hands were trembling from all the numbness pricking deep into your palms, but nevertheless, you reached hopelessly towards the baby pokemon. Toxel gave you a hearty raspberry, digging deeper into a jar of Arceus know what from atop the fridge. “Please, buddy, let’s go nigh-nigh. Wanna go nigh-nigh?”

Toxel let out a belch, his chubby face covered almost completely in some kind of berry jam. At this point, you could hardly care about how Piers would react. Your main priority for the past several hours had been solely on getting a firm grip on the baby. And, true to the Spikemuth citizen, this little guy was being anything but obedient.

Desperately red eyes spun around the room, hoping for anything to entice Toxel into your hands. Thankfully, you were able to tuck away most everything dangerous that he might have gotten into (though at one point he did get his hands on a spoon he found underneath the couch - it took you nearly an hour to finally get him out from there, especially when he found shocking you with the spoon just so entertaining). You looked across the dining room table, seeking the mess from an earlier meal you’d failed at making, to the countertops that you tried to clean gooey purple poison off of several times through the night, and even to the sink where you’d also tried (and, of course, failed) to give Toxel a bath. Nothing immediately caught your eye until…

Your smile spread maniacally across your face as you honed in on a new target. Passing a sneaky glance to the baby, you reached over into a slightly ajar cabinet and grabbed a juicy-looking oran berry.

“Oh, Toxel~,” you coo affectionately to the pokemon. Initially, he lifts his head with perhaps full intention to blow another disgruntled raspberry in your direction, only for his eyes to widen in recognition of what you held out in your hand. A small, dare you say cute ribbit of curiosity was faintly heard from his throat. Toxel moved away from the berry jar, reaching his grubby little hands out to the berry.

“You gotta come here if you want the berry.”

Toxel immediately complied, crawling towards the end of the fridge with no regard for if he fell. Even with the numbness from his electric secretion in his skin, you manage to snatch up the baby, pulling him close to your chest before he fell out of your grasp. A part of you nearly let out a mad cackle; another part of you considered crying. Thankfully, because you still had some semblance of sanity left in your husk of a body, you simply gave a tired sigh and looked down at the baby. “Okay… Snackies and then it’s off to sleepy time junction…”

You slowly meandered back into the living room, stepping over various chair legs and abandoned drawers on route to the couch. Your body ached more and more the closer you got; you all but collapsed into the cushions, hardly caring about the poisonous slime or gooey whatever that coated the entire piece of furniture. Toxel got cozy on your lap, gnawing at the berry. Seeing him so damn determined to eat the fruit pulled a light-hearted chuckle from your lips. Gently, you took the berry from his fingers, ignoring his growls of disapproval.

“Look, Toxie,” you lowered your voice, letting the nails of your thumbs shakily dig into the thick skin of the fruit, pulling it apart so that the juicy innards were easily accessible. A light, sweet smell wafted immediately into the air. “You gotta take the skin off, first, buddy. Here ya go.”

Toxel gratefully accepted the fruit, wasting no time in digging into the fruity flesh. Aside from his soft croaks of satisfaction, the house had finally seemed to fall silent. Slowly, your eyes began to flutter; your head leaned back. The pleasant environment that had befallen over the abode was far too comfortable to resist just another second more of darkness…

… Piers slowly began to stir, letting out an involuntary groan as he rolled over to his back. His eyes fluttered open, and much to his surprise, the house wasn’t totally in pieces. Or, at least the chaos hadn’t spread into his room, yet. The man let out a soft chuckle at that thought. He’d definitely be hearing about this for a long time from you - but for that warm, cozy restfulness he had at the moment, it was definitely worth it. He just hoped you didn’t completely hate him. After all, he knew how nasty this certain Toxel could be, and he really knew how much you hesitated when it came to young pokemon. But even if he’d basically end up handing over all his credit cards and bank accounts to you, Piers would make sure to let you know how grateful he was just for just this little favor.

He had his own little stretch and eventually pulled himself out of the warmth of his covers. He found himself glancing over at his closet door mirror, adjusting his hair a bit and resetting his slightly twisted up shirt - the poor lad was so tired the night before that he didn’t bother getting undressed like he normally does. Which was probably a good thing - not sure how he would have reacted if you ended up having to chase Toxel into his room and found him damn near skyclad. Before that thought could wander to some dangerous daydream, Piers quickly broke away from his reflection and headed towards the door. Now was probably a good time to rescue you.

To be honest, Piers figured that the house would be in a worse state. But judging by the piles of broken objects shuffled into corners or onto hastily wiped tables, it looks like you even tried to clean up a bit. He didn’t know why he laughed at that fact; probably because it was you. Piers shuffled down the hall, peering around corners with curious eyes that he may see you in some comical situation at the mercy of an infantile pokemon. However, much to his surprise, he could just barely hear the sound of snores coming from the living room.

Piers leaned in, and immediately tensed up at the sight.

You, sprawled out on the couch with one leg dangling to the floor, baby Toxel all curled up nice and cozy on your chest. Both so sweetly sound asleep. Piers nearly passed out from it; even after all these years of knowing you, you had never seemed so… peaceful? Reticent? Maybe…. Even… beautiful? He looked down at the two of you for a few breaths more, memorizing every single aspect of this moment - it’d make for a great song, if he ever got the courage to write it. Eventually, he crept a bit closer, kneeling at your side with a soft exhale. Yeah, you were out like a light, and Toxel seemed no different. So the taller man indulged a bit more in the peacefulness of morning, leaning over the back of the couch with his eyes shut and patiently waiting for you to wake up to him there.

#pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #pkmn #swsh #pokemon swsh #piers #gym leader piers #piers/reader #pierxreader #piers x reader #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #reader don't like no babies #but they'll deal with it for piers #piers has a crush #reader's got her own shit to worry about lol #Toxel is A LOT to deal with

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sourbat · 4 years ago

Note

#6 Pickleface, please!

Tongue-tied

enjoy :)

It’s nearing one in the morning, and Pickles is flipping through the channels, heel tapping through the line of infomercials with the steady hum and beat that echoes with the drum of Murderface’s fingers against his stomach. Coffee, booze, weed and just about every brand of chip and candied popcorn known to man litters the surrounding couch. The blanket once shared between them now clutters the floor, pooled mainly around Murderface’s feet.

Murderface sees a flash of red on the screen and spits up a bit of his drink. He points a finger. “Hey, shtop there!”

Pickles lifts his heel. “Here?”

“Nah, nah! Go back a few channels!” Murderface says, then grabs at the near-empty bowl of caramel corn. “I shink I shaw your fashe…”

“Oh, great,” Pickles mutters sarcastically, but a twinkle in his eyes tells Murderface he’s already looking forward to whatever insults the guy has in store for him. He presses his arched foot onto the pedal, goes back a few channels till Murderface stops him with a shake of the arm. Pickles slaps his hand away once he settles. “Alrighty, what’s the damage this time?”

A boring, late night documentary on the history of glam rock, starring a bunch of no-names who likely majored in music appreciation and realized the only way anyone was going to bother listening to them was to mask their fancy words with flashy images of bands Pickles barely remembers from his youthful days. His tongue drags against the top row of his teeth, tracing the shape of his left incisor while Murderface insults the jackoff with the thick-rimmed glasses donning long, poorly dyed hair.

“What a fuckin’ tool,” Pickles comments, earning a loud cackle from Murderface.

“For real,” Murderface agrees, then reaches for the bong situated near the edge of the table, and prepares himself a hit.

Pickles is in the middle of grabbing the discarded blanket when he catches the man fingering the bowl. “Oh, lemme have a bit when yer’ done,” he says, thinking he’s got another half-hour in him before passing out for dreamland. He glances at Murderface’s slightly protruding stomach and already fantasizes resting on it right once he’s finished getting stoned.

Murderface flicks the lighter awake. “Shure thing, dude.”

Then pops a frontline image of Snakes N’ Barrels, and as the screen is hit with a blast of smoke, Pickles hears the usual spiel from the narrators who try to come off more progressive than necessary. Some rando brings up how brave Pickles was for coming out before anyone else, how he was a pioneer for queer representation, what a badass he was for performing right after surgery, blah, blah, same old shit. Pickles takes a deep hit once he’s handed the bong, smiling inwardly as the words on the screen start to blur and intermingle with Murderface’s less than forgiving commentary. A thick finger waves at a much younger, shirtless Pickles posed with an albino anaconda, and the guy nearly retches a cough before breaking into a lisped series of predictable penis jokes. Pickles holds his breath through it, letting the smoke kill whatever reasonable thought he has before spewing it in the direction of a ceiling.

“Not bad.” Murderface compliments the solid twirl of smoke as Pickles places the bong back on the table, slumps back into the cushion, then slides further on his right, falling on top of Murderface’s side.

Pickles eyes settle on a debut poster for Snakes N’ Barrel’s summer tour across Asia, and as the nobody historian, musician-whatever dude talks about how androgyny played a role in levelling the field for women performers, Murderface utters a steady whistle.

“Damn, you’re sho hot in that picture!”

“Thanks, was like…half my age back when I posed fer that,” Pickles comments. High on weed, sugar and nostalgia, Pickles stares at the dying image of his younger counterpart shifting into that of an all-female metal band, and sinks further, head now resting on Murderface’s arm. “Dang, I used t’ be a real hottie.”

Murderface ceases sorting through the caramel corn for chunks of crystalized nuts and turns to face Pickles. “Ushed to?” he asks rhetorically. “Dude, you’re shtill hot.” He rolls his shoulder, stirring Pickles to sit upright. Murderface sets the bowl aside and reclines into the corner of the sofa. “Getting the dreads wash the besht deshision ya did,” he says as Pickles drags some fingers down the corner of his eye.

A tired laugh. “Doesn’ help much against the baldin’.”

“Yeah, but look at you,” Murderface says, gesturing at Pickles’ arm. “You got bad-ash dreads, larger muschle mash, and your levels are conshtant now so you getta keep that goatee!”

Pickles rubs the bridge of his nose. “Thanks.”

Murderface leans in as Pickles reopens his reddened eyes, grim eyes shifting to a more suggestive stare. “You know I like your goatee.”

“I know.”

“Sh’real good look on you.” Murderface withdraws a little, rubs the back of his neck as his eyes settle on their covered toes, then adds, “Err, it’sh rugged.”

“Heh, thanks.” Flattered, Pickles brings hand to his goatee, tugs and smiles against the resistance of a full beard.

“Wish I could grow a beard,” Murderface mutters, mirroring Pickles’ movement with his own, and dragging his massive hand across his jawline. “Anyshing I grow comesh up uneven.”

“Nah, dood, yer’ good,” Pickles insists with a short jab of the elbow. “Ya’ aged fine. Yer’ rockin’ the ‘stache.”

“And a beer gut,” Murderface remarks, hands dropping to pat the exposed stomach peeking through shorts and a slightly raised shirt. With the atmosphere covered in a veil of smoke, and Pickles and Murderface already so high, it was impossible to read the words and tone and figure if Murderface was joking or not. Pickles, lacking forethought and a filter, assumes the former. Even at his best, William can be a critical, self-judgmental bastard.

Pickles drops on his hands, rolls his red eyes and shakes his head at Murderface. “Whaddya talkin’ about, dood? That's the best part of you!”

Murderface frowns. “What?”

Pickles raises a finger at Murderface. “Ya used t’ be a skinny, insecure baby-face!” He snickers a wide grin, then jabs his finger at the round gut. “Now yer a real man,” he says, opting to pause and enjoy the gentle quake of William’s stomach, and raises his eyes to the widening lime-colored irises dilating at his remark. Pickles laughs. “A real man with a sharp tongue, good humor, thick-ass mustache and… soft pillow fer a gut!”

“O-oh, well.” Murderface produces that humble, shy smile he only dares to express when it’s just the two of them.

Pickles eats it up and pushes further. “I mean, ya may not be as manly as this work of art,” he adds, gesturing at himself and earning an exaggerated eye roll from Murderface, “but yer perfectly fine fer snugglin’.”

Even in the dark of the room, and the hazy veil layering Pickles’ vision, he can make out the start of an uncontrolled blush.

Murderface opens his mouth, but only nervous chuckles come out. He scratches the back of his head again, raising a lax shoulder in the process and steering his eyes away as he struggles to add on to the piling list of compliments. Picking on the man’s lowering defenses, Pickles slumps further, arms sliding and body lowering, closing the gap until his head rests comfortably on top of Murderface’s stomach.

He feels Muederface twitch beneath him.

“Look at me, Will,” Pickles says, and unleashes a mean snicker once Murderface drops to meet his lazy stare. The man’s definitely blushing now, and to top it off, he’s at a loss for words. His lips are curled in, fighting between a frown because he can’t think of anything to say, and a widening grin because he knows what Pickles is going to tell him.

So he says it.

Pickles chuckles up at Murderface. “Ya’ know how I feel ‘bout my pillow.”

Some old broad shows her face to the camera. She narrates over some basic-ass music and talks about some band neither men recognize. A face of some unknown singer pops up, and Pickles yawns, flutters his heavy eyelids and brings the blanket up to his shoulders as he stares mindlessly at the screen. Murderface is nice and warm tonight, he thinks, and welcomes the cozy embrace of a cannabis-induced sleep. Underneath, he senses Murderface’s slowed breathing in the form of gentle rises and falls, and before he passes out for the night, feels something rough and wet press against his cheek.

#amazonboatchurch #pickleface #william murderface #pickles the drummer #tw: drugs #trans! Pickles #ficlet ask thing #thank you

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sunshineandbeyblade · 4 years ago

Text

Birthday Cake - Shu x reader

Word count: 3,110 Warnings: a little bit of angst in flashbacks A/N: I wrote this whole thing in one day. Today. So Shu’s fifteen today. And no I didn’t edit this yet. Enjoy. Vibe songs for flashbacks: “Soon You’ll Get Better” and “It’s Nice to Have a Friend” both by Taylor Swift.

You slipped into the room. A quick look around confirmed it. No one was there. A sigh of relief was let out. It was a good thing the spare keys worked. Within the large room, you followed where the kitchen was with your eyes and walked there. You felt small in the room. Your footsteps much louder than usual.

One step into the kitchen and you froze. It looked like it was out of a magazine, yet somewhat familiar. Your eyes fell downward and you let out a small laugh. Of course Valt would give you the spare keys to have you sneak into Shu’s penthouse in New York so you could make him a birthday cake.

Valt would be there too, and the others, for the surprise party. He was so upset when Shu said that he needed to keep training and that he couldn’t break his promise to his team. After all, you only turn fifteen once. Of course, that was always Valt’s excuse for a party for Shu. “You only turn thirteen once!” “You only turn fourteen once!” Then again, fifteen was a big number. A smile with sad eyes was thrown onto your face as nostalgia hit you like a wave. You couldn’t believe it had been about four years since you befriended him and the bey club.

You remembered it like it was yesterday, being in the same class as him. Giving secretive glances to him. … Maybe you had the slightest crush on him at the time. Nothing big, just puppy love. Always being on the sidelines. Eleven year old heart fluttering. But you’d never do anything. Just stare and hope one day something would randomly happen.

And then that one day…. You had a group of friends. A few girls in it were from class while a few others were from another school and new a girl in your class. One of those girls from the other school was the mean one. It was mostly only her. Though the others never seemed to mind. You never understood why, but you assumed you were just overreacting and being too sensitive. Besides… they were your only friends.

But you had gone to a sleepover with them. You just stayed quiet as they talked about different school stories, shows, and celebrities. Eventually they got onto the topic of Shu, because his victory at the district tournament meant he was famous in town. And it turned out… nearly all of them had a crush on him, or at least found him hot. Even the girls from the other school. They began talking about what it would be like if he liked them back and who he would like back out of all of them.

With a small voice, you had spoken up, “What about me?”

Unfortunately, the rude girl was the one to respond.

“C’mon! You know he’d never like you. You never even talk.”

With that your mind blank. They immediately moved on in the conversation, like you didn’t exist at all. You felt nothing, yet tears began to prick beneath your eyes. The world just seemed broken when it shouldn’t have hurt at all. Especially if it was true.

You quietly excused yourself to go to the bathroom. Only one acknowledged you with an ‘okay’. You tried to cry as quietly as you could, just in case someone might overhear you. Even after a few minutes, you didn’t feel like returning. Not with red eyes. Not when you needed time. Maybe you could just slip out and take a walk. They wouldn’t miss you anyway.

You quietly left the house and ran. You had no idea where you were running to. You just stopped somewhere, leaned against the concrete wall, and cried. You wouldn’t have run out like that when you were older, but you were upset and you knew the town fairly well. You knew how to get back and you needed space.

You sat there for probably a few minutes. You really had no idea how long really. Time flows strangely when you wallow in sadness and your spiraling thoughts. It felt like the worst day

“Are you okay?” The first real act was of kindness that was extended to you that day.

You stared up to meet red eyes. But they weren’t red from sadness, they were the beautiful, natural eye color. They were filled with a blend of concern and curiosity. You recognized them. It suddenly occurred to you that you had stopped to cry just a few meters away from a public bey stadium. You would have jumped up in surprise, but you didn’t have the energy. You did have the energy to fake a smile and pretend everything was fine, though.

“Hey, Shu.” You wiped your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Uh, nothing much,” you lied with the smile still plastered on you face, hoping it would conceal the truth.

He tilted his head to the side, ever to slightly revealing the scar on his face. “I don’t want to push you, but I can tell that everything’s not fine. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? I can just leave you alone if that’s what you really want.” He took the white towel that was on his shoulder and let it hang in his hand.

“I…” You had intended to keep the act up, but you cracked. Maybe it was the thought of being left alone. You curled in on yourself and stared down. “Some of my friends were mean to me.”

He seemed to stand up straighter and his eyes widened. “Really?”

You nodded.

“Are they usually like that?”

“Well. Actually it’s just this one girl. But the rest of them don’t really pay attention to me.” You looked up. Then suddenly realized you might have said too much. After all, why would he want to hear about some random girl’s problems. “But it’s fine.” You put a smile back on.

Sadness leaked into his expression. “I’m really sorry to hear that.” He began to get down on his knee to get to your eye level. “If you want-“

“SHUUU!!!” A loud voice caused you to jump and him to stand up.

“Over here, Valt” Shu called.

A short boy with spikey blue hair and a beyblade vest came barreling in. He panted as if he had run a marathon.

“Shu! Why weren’t you training? I thought we were going to have a battle- Oh, hey! Haven’t I seen you somewhere?” Valt looked down at you.

“In class.”

“Oh, that’s right! Thanks, Shu!”

“No problem.”

“So, what are you doing here? Do you want to battle too?” He had a huge smile. Completely oblivious of what you had been crying just moments before.

“I… don’t have a bey.”

“Well you can just watch then! Did you know that I have a bey club? Oh, I’m Valt by the way. What’s your name?

And that was the beginning.

Of course, you got a scolding from your mother for leaving the sleepover without telling anyone, but you got over it. It didn’t matter. And ever since then, making friends with them, you felt happy. You felt your self confidence returning. And eventually they got you into blading.

Was it the best day or worst day? Maybe just the best memory and worse memory.

Before you could successfully leave the flashback, you went into another one. Another one of your best memories. Valt had been introducing you to the Xander and the Sword Flames and saying how you had been talking to Shu when you met him.

“and they were… what were you guys doing?” He turned to both of you.

You shrunk in on yourself. You hadn’t said much and it felt strange for all eyes to suddenly be on you.

“I had seen her by the stadium,” Shu calmly said.

“What were you doing there?” the guy in green with a cold expression, who you'd later learn was Yugo. “You don’t have a bey, right?”

“She was…” Shu hesitated.

“I was just walking by.” You planted a sudden burst of enthusiasm into your voice. One that was very different from your previous quiet, shy mood.

“But you were sitting on the ground,” Valt pointed out.

“Oh, I was just tired from walking so long.” Your happy disposition felt so fake to you. A shield that covered you that no one could see through. “Nothing big.” But you were wrong, one person did see.

Shu stared at you, then back at everyone else. “One second, I think I forgot my water bottle. Wanna come?” Shu asked you.

“Oh, okay.”

“Why do you do that?” He said once out of earshot and view.

It caught you off guard. “What do you mean?”

“You just suddenly started acting different.”

“What do you mean?” You repeated.

“I mean that you suddenly started acting happy and like nothing was wrong.” Annoyance began leaking into his voice.

"But you weren't fine when it happened. You were crying. I get why you might not want people to know that, but not why you're trying so hard to pretend everything's fine and try to change your personality."

“Yeah...I really was fine. Nothing bad.” You kept the smile on, even when the rush of memories came back to you. The feeling that no one would ever like you for you. The feeling that no one would want to be your friend. That they only hung around you to be nice.

“Why do you always do that?!” he burst, raising his voice to the point you jumped back. "You always say that it's 'nothing'. You don't have to be okay all the time. Just pretending and pushing it aside will only hurt you." He took a deep breath. "I understand that you aren't comfortable with sharing it with some people. But you also need to be true to yourself instead of trying to convince other people and yourself that you're happy all the time. It's okay to have struggles or have other emotions." He stared at you.

It took a second to process this. It was a strange feeling, but you felt... a little better. Like you were seen. He was the first person who noticed in a while. And it felt... nice. You felt yourself relaxing. "Thanks."

He put his hand on your shoulder "Just remember you can tell someone."

You let out a laugh. "Says the guy who pretended his arm wasn't hurt."

He gasp, then laughed. The most genuinely happy, amused laugh you had ever heard from him. "Hey."

You giggled from the memory as you put the box of cake mix onto the counter.

Shu had set everything so it looked like the kitchen he had constantly cooked in the past. You remembered when you'd watch, and sometimes help, him make spaghetti carbonara. The fact how he was so good at cooking didn't help your crush at the time. It would sometimes annoy him how everyone wanted more, but you saw the content look on his face as he made it. It was always delicious and one of your best memories.

But that crush thing was in the past! You hadn’t felt that in years… well… it’s true it seemed to go away for a few years but… it was confusing. You know what? You shook your head. No. No. You didn’t have any feelings for him. He was just a friend and wouldn’t ever like you back even if you did.

You pulled out a bowl and set it on the counter confidently. Maybe a little harder than you meant to because a bang resounded in the solid kitchen walls and within the bowl. Part of you would have been comfortable if you just bought a cake somewhere else and brought it there, but Valt said that a homemade cake would be the best way to show appreciation for Shu and that it would be easier if it was already there.

"If it's easier, why don't you come here and make it," you muttered. Then you remembered Valt's cooking skills and change your mind.

Valt had gotten more mature in the past four years, but sometimes you swore he was the same kid as before. But maybe you liked that sometimes. And sometimes it was annoying since you had trouble saying no even if it was an inconvenience to you. Times like this.

"Where does Shu keep the mixer again?" You dug through the cabinets, then on the ones on floor level. Even if it looked similar to that old kitchen, you still didn't know where everything was. You would have to use some of his kitchen supplies, but you promised you'd wash them before he got back.

"The bottom cabinet, two to your left."

You hit your head on the top the cabinet you had stuck your head in. Turning while rubbing your head, you spotted Shu standing in the entrance for the kitchen. It was amazing how tall he was now.

"Uhhh. Hey, Shu!"

"What are you doing in my kitchen?" His expression remained ever calm.

"Nothing."

He raised his eyebrow. "I doubt it's nothing if you have cake mix and you're looking for the mixer." He closed his eyes and smiled, "Let me guess, Valt set you up for this."

"Errr, yeah."

"Here. Let me help you." He grabbed the box, the bowl, and a spoon. "You actually don't need a mixer if you're just going to use a cake mix. You only need it if you make it from scratch."

"Oops." You laughed awkwardly. But Shu just continued with a smile on his face.

He looked at the back of the box and began getting out the ingredients. There was silence as you took turns putting the ingredients into the bowl.

"Why did you come back so early? I thought Valt told me you were going to train."

"I realized I forgot something and came back to get it. Then I heard something in the kitchen."

"But don't you have to train with you team? I don't want to hold you up," you said.

"We already had our training session in the morning. I was going to get some more in for myself, but I can do this now. I have the time."

"But you shouldn-"

"When are Valt and the other going to get here for the surprise party?" He asked without even looking over.

"Uh, an hour or so. How did you know? It was supposed to be a surprise. Y'know, kinda takes the surprise out of the surprise party." You waved your hands around for emphasis.

He laughed. "I was. Just when I saw you in the kitchen trying to make a cake it clicked."

"You're too smart for your own good."

The corners of his mouth lifted even further. "Can you grab a pan for the cake over there?" He pointed.

"Sure." You turned on your heels to where he pointed. After some clattering, you found one that looked about the right size. "Hey, is this the right-" you spun and began to run up when you realized he was suddenly in your face.

His surprised expression probably mirrored yours and you accidentally backed up into the counter. It was hard to ignore the heat rushing to your face, or that fact that you almost had a head on collision with your friend and one of the top bladers in the world.

"Oops. Sorry, I didn't hear you walk up to me," you apologized. How did this happen in such a big kitchen?

"It's okay. Just be careful. I think this looks good. Good job!" He took it out of your hands and set it down next to the bowl.

"Pfft. You're doing most of the work. I haven't done much at all."

"That's not true. You helped put the ingredients in." He used a spatula to scoop the batter that was sticking to the bowl into the pan.

You rolled your eyes. "Still not much."

"Still helping."

He placed the cake into the oven. You both just stood and stared at the orange light through the glass like camp fire. A comfortable silence fell over you.

A bing interrupted the silence. You opened up your phone. A huge grin spread on your face. "Ha. Valt's running late. Apparently getting balloons took longer than he thought."

"Sounds like him," Shu confirmed.

"I wonder if he's going to come bursting through the door in, like, thirty minutes saying, 'Sorry I'm late, guys' all out of breath." You did your best impersonation of Valt, but struggled from laughing every other word.

This got a chuckle out of Shu. "That's Valt. But for all of his flaws, he's a great friend."

"He sure is." Your smile grew. "I never thought I would have friends like you. It's really been great. I've loved every second of it.”

You stared down. Deep in thought.

"Thanks."

"Huh. For what?"

"Just being my friend and talking to me four years ago. I don't know what I would have done if I never met you or the rest of the bey club. That was basically the start of everything good in my life. I got real friends and a place where I could be myself. You were the start of that. Thank you." You stared at him. Right now you felt like an open book. Laying yourself out in front of him with no lies and simple, beautiful truth.

His gaze softened. "You're welcome."

You both hung out. Sometimes in content silence and sometimes talking. Shortly before time you had to take the cake out was when the rest of the bey club started to arrive. It had been a while since you last saw all of them in person. Especially in one place. It was fun chatting with them.

In what felt like no time, the timer went off and you and Shu excused yourselves to go into the kitchen to get it. Just as he set the cake down, there was a slam and a yell reverberated.

"Sorry I'm late, guys!"

You held your mouth to keep from cracking up and both of you looked at each other with a grin.

"Well, there's Valt."

"Yep."

"Why don't we talk to everyone while we wait for the cake to cool down and decorate it?" you suggested.

"Sounds good."

"Thanks again. This was fun."

"You're welcome." His hand somehow found its way into yours as they relaxed by your sides. He gave yours a quick, comforting squeeze, like a pulse, before letting go again and walking out to everyone else.

#Beyblade burst #shu kurenai #shu x reader #shu kurenai birthday #birthday fic #fluff #kinda hurt and comfort

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whyiask · 4 years ago

Text

more bitter than sweet (Ch. 1)

Masterpost Ao3 Link TWs: there is a gun and non-graphic violence during the flashback (in italics) so mind that part Note: okay so. so. for people who have seen TUA, you might be saying "Joy, why on earth would you have Tommy as Vanya instead of Tommy as Five?" and the answer to that is: I just realllly wanted Tommy as Vanya, so Niki is Five, because badass Niki. also, the plot will have some changes, obviously, as it's driven by the characters and the role of Five's character is filled by a quite different person in this au. SO, on with the show. Other than that, it'll follow the original plot fairly well, probably. (also Schlatt is probably ooc, he got dealt the unfortunate hand of Luther and I don't really like Luther and don't really know how to write him, so F in the chat for schlatt lmao)

---

The sky was overcast and dreary. Fitting for the occasion. The manor house, which had been near silent for just over a year, was dusty and creaking. Normally Philza wouldn’t let the house get to such a state. The vines stretched high up the walls and Tommy craned his neck to view the once majestic mansion he had lived in. It was a far cry from the rigid upkeep of the grounds Reginald Hargreeves had insisted upon.

Tommy wasn’t looking forward to seeing his siblings again. Although he missed them dearly, he was afraid, not that he’d ever tell anyone, of how they would shun him. It had been years since any of them spoke to him. Wilbur had moved away from the house as soon as he could, forgetting about Tommy and never bothering to check in. Techno’s abrupt lack of communication was purposeful. He really did only have himself to blame.

Heaving a great sigh, Tommy mounted the steps. At least he would get to see Wilbur again.

His key fit into the door and as it swung open, a wave of nostalgia washed over him. The burning of the fireplace, the musty scent of the old, worn down rugs and furniture. The blood that had stained the floors time and time again. Pushing down his nausea, Tommy stepped forward into the open space.

“Big Man Tommyinnit has arrived,” he announced, but it fell flat, even to his own ears. It didn’t echo, trailing off in the lonely entryway. The whole house was a void, a black hole that had sucked his childhood away. He supposed he had never really gotten to be a child in the first place.

He didn’t hear the footsteps coming. He only looked up the grand staircase at the sound of a wall being punched.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Technoblade ground out. His eyebrows were drawn tight and his fists were curled. Tommy bit back a wince. He deserved this. After all, it was his brilliant idea to write a book exposing all of their family secrets. He had seen it as a way to try and cope with his trauma at the time, but it quickly became clear the rest of the family did not share his views.

A mess of curly brown hair poked out around the doorway that Techno was leaning against. A yellow sweater and a maroon beanie. A guitar strapped to his back. Tommy was hit with another wave of memories and it took all of his willpower not to run into his brother’s arms.

“Is that Tommy I hear?” Wilbur asked, and Techno moved aside reluctantly. Wilbur’s entire face lit up and he rushed down the stairs, nearly tripping in his haste. Tommy moved forward at a slower speed, and they met at the base of the stairs.

“Awww,” Wilbur whispered. “You’ve grown so much.” He raised a hand hesitantly, almost as if to pat Tommy’s head, and Tommy swatted him away.

“Oh bug off, you’d know that if you had actually stuck around.”

Wilbur’s smile faltered. He put his hand back at his side and a brief look of regret passed his face. “I’m sorry, Tommy, but I couldn’t stay here.”

“You could’ve taken me with you.” Tommy took a deep breath. He was getting too sentimental for his own good. Wilbur lifted his arms and wrapped them around Tommy’s lanky body. Tommy hesitated for a second, before returning the hug. It was awkward, nowhere near as smooth as it had been in their childhood.

“I missed you, Tommy. It’s good to see you again, you little gremlin,” Wilbur muttered into Tommy’s hair.

From up on the second floor, Tommy heard Techno scoff. He pulled away from Wilbur to look up at their brother. Techno was sharpening a knife, leaning back against the doorframe. His red cloak was settled comfortably on his shoulders and his face held a large scowl.

Wilbur frowned up at him. “Got a problem, Techno?”

Technoblade scoffed again, straightening up and coming to lean over the railing. He sneered down at Wilbur. “‘You missed him? You missed him?’” Techno’s eyes drifted over to Tommy with a glare. “Do you even know what he’s done?”

Wilbur stepped protectively in front of Tommy, and he had to resist rolling his eyes.

“He’s still our brother.”

“He’s still in the room,” Tommy interjected dryly. Wilbur shushed him and this time he actually did roll his eyes.

“Tommy was never part of our family to begin with. What gives him the right to talk about our family as if he belongs to it now?”

Tommy stiffened. Wilbur tensed beside him as well. “Techno,” he said, voice dark. “You know that’s not true.”

“Congratulations, we all have our own fucking trauma. Thank you Tommy, truly, for sharing it with the world!” He turned and his cape swished behind him dramatically. He spared one last look over his shoulder before walking back into the living room. Tommy barely caught his parting statement. “You’ve never been my brother and never will be. Stop acting like you are."

Tommy reeled back like he’d been hit, but when he noticed Wilbur looking at him worriedly, he plastered on a smile.

“Are you-” he started.

“Don’t worry about me, big man,” Tommy said, louder than necessary. “It’s Techno you should be concerned about, he’s clearly got some major problems.”

Wilbur looked at him doubtfully but nodded along anyways. He patted Tommy’s shoulder once.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back, despite the awful circumstances. I did miss you.”

“I missed you too, Wil,” Tommy muttered, watching Wilbur’s back retreating up the stairs.

---

The living room was tense. You could cut through the thickness of the air with a butter knife. Techno leaned on one of the support pillars behind the couch, as far away from everyone else as possible. Schlatt was sitting in one of the large armchairs, and Ranboo had swung his feet up onto the couch, taking up the whole thing.

Wilbur immediately plopped himself onto the other chair, leaving Tommy to try and fit on the couch. Ranboo curled his legs in and Tommy nodded to him with a smile. Ranboo smiled back, before looking over his shoulder at the air and grinning wider.

Schlatt cleared his throat, calling everyone to attention. He stood up.

“I think you all know why we are here,” he said lazily, moving his gaze across everyone in the room. There were several murmurs of agreement.

“Our father is dead, and we have to pay respects to him,” Schlatt continued.

Techno snorted slightly and Schlatt ignored him.

“However,” he stressed, and Tommy rolled his eyes, recognizing the tone in his oldest brother’s voice. “I believe there was foul play involved.”

“Foul play?” Techno asked, disbelieving. “You think someone murdered dad?”

Schlatt bristled at Techno’s words. “Yes, as a matter of fact. When his body was found, he didn’t have his monocle on him, and it was nowhere in the room.”

Even Wilbur had to raise an eyebrow at that. “And…?” he said.

Schlatt groaned. “C’mon guys, you have to use your brains. When have you ever, ever seen dad without his monocle?” At the silence, Schlatt grinned triumphantly as if he had won. “See? My point is that someone took his monocle, right before or after his death. It must’ve been personal.”

He turned to Techno. “Philza was the one who found him, no?”

Techno’s mouth pressed together into a thin line. “You can’t seriously be accusing Phil,” he said, a threat clear in his voice.

“Well, who knows,” Schlatt threw up his hands. “Maybe he finally got tired of being the perfect little housekeeper. Who else could’ve done it, you?”

Techno’s eyes widened a fraction, before narrowing again. Tommy would’ve missed it if he had not grown up with him.

Schlatt must’ve noticed it too, because his jaw opened so fast that Tommy was worried it would come off.

“I mean,” Techno said, interrupting whatever yelling storm Schlatt had planned. “As much as I would’ve enjoyed the honors, it wasn’t me.”

Schlatt’s eyes narrowed down to slits. “I don’t trust him,” he announced.

Wilbur gave a single bark of laughter. “What else is new?”

“I don’t trust you either, and yet here I am. What’re you accusing me of?” Techno butted in.

Schlatt sputtered. “You know damn well what.”

As Techno reared up to argue back, Tommy tuned out their mindless bickering. Somehow, he thought they could’ve changed. Maybe he thought they could’ve grown up. He clearly expected too much. Techno was still a vigilante, still hot-headed. And Schlatt? Well, four years without any human interaction had really screwed up his subtlety. To be fair, Tommy wasn’t sure if he had had any to begin with.

Tommy sighed and stood up, grabbing Ranboo’s arm and pulling him up as well. The arguing brothers didn’t pay them any heed. Wilbur stood up too, trying to break up the argument that threatened to turn violent. Ranboo got Tommy’s drift and they exited the room.

There was no point in staying.

They are ten years old. The robbers are holding hostages, and Schlatt starts to tell the others his plan, when Niki jumps into the building. Schlatt curses and runs into the room after her. Techno, never one to miss out on the action, follows closely behind.

Ranboo, Tubbo, and Wilbur are slightly slower and stick closer to the wall.

They arrive in time to see Niki teleporting around, distracting the robbers, as Techno hurls a knife with deadly accuracy into one of the men’s shoulders. He falls with a cry. Schlatt lifts another and tosses him into a wall like a ragdoll.

A voice cries out over the chaos and all three freeze. One of the others has pulled a gun on the civilians. Without wasting a moment, Niki blinks right in between the gun and the civilians, sitting on the bank check-in desk. The man swings the gun down towards her but she’s already gone.

Niki is behind him now, calling out, “Hey, loser.” As he spins around to face her, she quickly blinks his gun out of his hands in exchange for a stapler. “Nice stapler.”

She grabs his hand and twists it upwards. He hits himself in the head with the stapler in his hand. Niki tosses the gun to Schlatt, who catches it easily.

The three boys in the corner smile. Ranboo hated feeling useless in fights, but his power wasn’t cut out for combat. Tubbo was glad he didn’t have to use his. And Wilbur was just happy for his siblings to do the fighting instead of him.

Outside, Reginald Hargreeves stands, monocle and top hat, leaning on a stylish cane. A young boy stands next to him, fidgeting with his uniform.

“Why can’t I be with them?” Tommy asks his father.

“We’ve gone over this, Tommy,” Reginald says, irritated. “Because you are not special.”

When the police arrive, and the news is scrambling over themselves to take pictures of the young superheroes who saved the bank and the hostages, Schlatt, Techno, Wilbur, Niki, Tubbo, and Ranboo all line up to have their picture taken. They stand with good posture and smiles, having it ingrained into them.

Reginald walks out with a dramatic flair onto the steps of the bank, setting his hand on Schlatt’s shoulder. Schlatt huffs out his chest in pride.

“These,” Reginald announces to the gathered press. “Are your new superheroes. Meet the SBI.” The people clap.

“I adopted 6 children with superpowers, and I have been training them to fight against the evil in this city.”

Reginald’s speech continues. Tommy continues to stand out of sight, as Reginald introduces his siblings to the press. Reginald doesn’t even look in his direction as he states he had only adopted six kids.

They are ten. This is their first mission as a team. The SBI is born. And Tommy isn’t allowed to be a part of it.

Tommy’s old room was exactly how he remembered it. The plain bedspread on the plain bed. The posters on the wall, one of the few things he was allowed to customize. A neatly organized bookshelf and a cabinet full of music books. A keyboard by the window, coated in a thick layer of dust.

He had been just as surprised as everyone else when their father had allowed him to take up piano like he wanted to. There was a grand piano downstairs, he knew. It was probably out of tune.

Still better than sitting around. Ranboo had wandered off a while ago, so he didn’t have anyone to talk to, and everyone else was either busy or likely to ignore him. Tommy made his way to the spacious room. He sat down at the piano bench, blowing the dust from the keys and tentatively played a chord. It wasn’t horribly out of tune, though it definitely wasn’t in perfect upkeep.

Letting his doubts free, he let himself fold into the music, allowing his fingers to move across the keys. The song wasn’t particularly hard, though it wasn’t one he had played in a while. It was a song he remembered playing often when he still lived here.

Unknown to him, around the house, everyone perked up at the distant echoing of his playing, unconsciously swaying to the once-familiar tune.

#dream smp #dsmp #dream smp fanfiction #dsmp fanfiction #dream smp fic #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #ranboo #jschlatt #technoblade #dsmp au #multi-chapter fic #chapter 1 #more bitter than sweet

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procrastinatorimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Another Chance

Fandom: Chicago PD / One Chicago

Characters: Kim Burgess x Reader

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 2,135

Request: Can you do a Kim Burgess imagine, were you friends with her since you were little and when you moved away she was crushed so when you come back to Chicago you ask her out on a date and it's really cute, maybe a picnic date in the park? thank you lovely

Kim was one of the first people you called when you found out your job was moving you back to Chicago. You’d been friends since you were little, practically inseparable until you’d left the city for college. She’d been crushed when you left, and you’d been crushed to leave her, it was like leaving a part of yourself.

You and Kim had always just been friends, you’d never crossed that line, though you’d come pretty close once or twice. She’d visited you in college a couple of times, but then she’d become a flight attendant and you’d found a job near where you were going to school, and the two of you had lost touch.

There were still occassional phone calls, and birthday and Christmas cards, but you’d always thought of Kim as the one that got away, especially as you’d gotten older and started to understand the feelings that you’d had for her.

Now you were back in Chicago, and although you had no idea how Kim felt now, or how she felt then, you didn’t want this regret to hang over you forever. They’d told you the Chicago position at your firm could be permanent if you wanted it to be, and you’d told them you’d give it serious thought, but you’d actually just wanted to check that there was even a reason for you to stay in Chicago first.

Kim had sounded excited over the phone, but her shifts in Intelligence had her working late as your flight arrived on Friday, so you’d taken a taxi back to your hotel and thought about what you were going to say to her when you saw her in person.

You’d made plans to meet up the next day, at the park you used to picnic at as kids, and you spent way too long deliberating over what outfit you were going to wear to see her. It was ridiculous, she practically knew you better than anyone, but suddenly you were nervous.

These feelings you had for her hadn’t gone away, even after all these years, but now they were right at the surface as you rummaged through your luggage for an appropriate outfit.

When you had finally chosen some trousers and a nice blouse you looked back at your messages again, specifically the last one Kim had sent saying: ‘it’s a date’ to your proposed time to meet in the park.

Your mind had gone to the obvious places and you’d had to tell yourself over and over that she didn’t mean it that way, but as you tossed and turned that night before finally falling asleep, you’d wondered if she had meant it that way afterall.

You had packed a variety of picnic food in your bag as you crossed the familiar roads to the pack, memories of your childhood and your time spent with Kim coming flooding back to you as you wandered around the streets of Chicago, it felt like you’d never left.

There was an assortment of the foods you’d used to bring as children, as well as the more grown up food you ate now, but the nostalgia had hit you hard as you were scanning the isles of the supermarket that you’d had to grab some of the kids stuff, for old time’s sake.

It took you a second to spot Kim once you arrived, sitting on a picnic blanket under the same tree you’d both used to scale as kids. You knew why she’d picked it, you’d both carved your initials in it together when you’d graduated, as a reminder that you’d be friends for life, wherever life took you.

Your heart swelled just thinking about it as she spotted you heading over, her face lighting up as she rushed over to greet you, both of you nearly toppling over with the force of the hug. Not that you minded.

“God I’ve missed you, hi!” Kim said excitedly, wrapping her arms around you with a strength you didn’t remember her having, not before she joined the police anyway.

“I’d tell you how much I missed you too if I could breath,” you laughed as she let go, mouthing sorry but still grinning. You knew you had the same grin on your face, it was straining your cheeks but you didn’t care, you were so happy to see him. “It is so good to see you,” you told her, squeezing her arm.

“Gosh how long has it been?” She asked as she directed you to where she had been sitting, taking your bags off and taking a seat next to her on her picnic blanket.

“Too long,” you replied, removing your jacket.

“Agreed,” she said, “well you look good anyway,” she added, looking you up and down. You didn’t think you’d changed much until you’d skimmed your old year book after you’d found out you were coming home. But it had been the better part of ten years since you’d seen each other face to face like this, and you’d both changed.

“Thanks,” you shrugged, feeling a little bit of heat creep into your cheeks and hoping she wouldn’t notice in the sun as you added, “so do you, guess chasing after bad guys does you good,” she laughed. Kim did look good, you noted to yourself, and not just in her actual physical appearance either, although she definitely did. You couldn’t quite explain it, but she looked more confident, sure of her self... sexier? You shook that last thought from your head.

“Oh yeah, you definitely get in that cardio,” she joked, “how was your flight anyway, sorry I couldn’t pick you up,” she apologised but you waved her off.

“It’s not problem, really, you were busy keeping the city safe,” she had nothing to apologise for. You saw your initials carved into the tree out the corner of your eye and nodded towards it, “they wouldn’t believe us if we told them where we’d be right now,” you said, thinking back to the day you’d both snuck out late to carve your friendship in stone... well, wood.

Kim smiled fondly at the memory, “I definitely wouldn’t have believed I’d ever be a cop, especially not a cop in as high profile a unit as Intelligence, some of my family members still have a hard time believing it,” she said, tracing the letters lightly with her fingers.

“I thought I’d be waiting tables forever,” you admitted, “I felt like I BS’d by way through law school and now I’m just some fraud pretending I know what I’m talking about in the court room,” you explained.

“Waiting for the day someone finally catches on and tells us we’re not supposed to be where we are,” Kim finished for you, glancing back at you with the realisation that you both felt the same way.

She opened her mouth to say something more to you when her stomach grumbled, both laughing as you decided to get out the foods you’d brought to eat. As it turns out, you’d both brought the food you used to sneak out the house when you were younger, candy bars and chocolate that your parents had kept for special treats stuffed under your shirts and in your pockets, only to be shared with each other once you’d made it to your concealed spot at the top of the tree.

Neither of you were going to be climbing it now, but as you divided out sandwiches and snacks, and the bottle of wine Kim had brought, you couldn’t help but watch her as she poured.

You reminisced as you ate, trading stories about what you’d been up to since college and laughing at memories of your youth together, your school years and misadventures. Kim had thrown a grape at you when you’d made a comment about her embarrassing middle school bangs and you’d returned the favour when she’d brought up your disasterous first kiss, and for a while, it was like it used to be, like you were the only two people in the world.

“I’ve missed you Kim,” you said suddenly, after a little bit of a pause in conversation, your feelings and emotions getting the better of you as you reached out and squeezed her hand.

“Well then, maybe you shouldn’t have moved away.” She said it as a joke but you felt the jab, your regret about leaving her behind never really leaving you, even after all these years.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” you admitted. Kim blinked at the sincerity of your tone, both of you forgetting that you were still holding either other’s hands.

“It hurt,” she told you honestly, looking down at your hands but not pulling away. You swallowed hard as she spoke, hardly daring to breath as you listened. “We did everything together, we promised we’d be friends for life, never without each other, and then you were gone.”

“I know,” you nodded, “I never expected... life to- to happen like this,” you waved your free hand around like that explained everything, “but it’s no excuse, I’m sorry.”

Kim met your eyes, silent for a second before she said anything, a sad smile on her face as she did. “It’s not you fault, not entirely, we both got so busy that we never really made time for each other anymore, not in any real way anyway,” she said but you didn’t respond, seeing she had more to say but was wrestling with how to say it, “it’s on me too, you might have left for college... but I took that badly, I’ll be the first to admit that now, and when I visited you and saw how much fun you were having with your new friends, I got jealous okay? It was always me and you you know?”

She looked away, a little embarrassed to finally be getting that off of her chest. You took a breath, she’d come clean to you, it was only fair you did the same, here went nothing. “Kim I- I always meant to come back to Chicago, but when we stopped visiting each other, and hell, when you started travelling the world, I didn’t see a place in your life anymore, at least not in the way I wanted, so I took the job at this firm because I didn’t want to risk us not... being the same when I got back, I thought that would hurt more.”

You hadn’t quite confessed everything, but you both definitely had a lot to think over as you sat there, wind rustling in the trees as birds chirped and children played around you in the mid afternoon sun. What you really wanted to tell her, but what you didn’t think you could, was that you’d realised you were in love with her, and the thought of her not reciprocating had seemed like the worse alternative to just not being in her life at all.

It had been selfish, you knew that, but at the time it had made sense to you. But still, seeing the hurt flash on Kim’s face was reopening that old wound. You didn’t know how long you both sat in silence, still holding hands but both deep in thought.

Kim was the first to speak, chewing her lip selfconsciously. “When I said that I wanted things to be just you and me, I wanted us to be more than that, if that makes any sense, and seeing you in college, with your new friends, I realised that I was never going to fill that place in your life,” she explained.

“I felt like that too,” you replied, “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, it meant so much to me that... that I panicked when I started to realise the way I actual felt about you, so I left...” taking a breath you finally said it outloud for the first time: “I think I was in love with you.”

Kim took a sharp breath, but despite your fear, she smiled. “I was in love with you too,” she admitted, all the weight lifting from your chest as you felt like you could finally breath, “do you think we’ve missed our chance?”

“I think maybe we have another chance right now...” you suggested slowly, watching for her reaction, “I mean if-” You began, not wanting to be too forward or push her into a corner.

But your words were taken right out of your mouth as you realised that she was kissing you, pulling you towards her by your collar.

You’d thought about this more often that you’d ever admit, especially when you were first starting to realise your feelings, and to be kissing her right now. You leaned in, cupping her face.

You’d both wasted enough time, you weren’t going to waste anymore.

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