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uwuwriting · 4 years ago

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How they propose w/ Oikawa, Iwaizumi and Kuroo

Request: Oikawa, kuro and iwa proposing to their long term girlfriend??? -anonymous

Hi it’s me back again. *if anyone knows from which song this is I’m gonna give them a cookie no cap*. I’m back with another one and this one is just the cutest thing ever. Oikawas’ is a little dumb and goofy but I believe he would do something like that. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warning: fluff and some dorkiness.

Oikawa Toru

-Okay so he is obsessed with tik tok....and his proposal kinda made it on tik tok.

-Its a nice cutesy proposal I swear he’s just overly proud of himself.

-You had just moved in with him in Argentina.

-Somehow you managed to get a job in your field in the town next to his place so when you told him that well you were moving to Argentina he didn’t hesitate to ask you to move in with him.

-He misses you way too much, the distance makes it hard for him to feel your comfort.

-He would never dream of breaking up with you; he would make it work even if it killed him.

-So it’s been a month and a half of living together and he is in heaven.

-He knew that he wanted to marry you for some time now.

-Since that moment at the airport the day he was leaving.

-Iwaizumi was there along side Matsu and Hanamaki.

-The three dumbasses were bawling their eyes out while you were semi chocking him.

- “Call me when you land okay? I wanna know how jet lagged you feel.”

-The sad smile on your face was enough to make him spill them tears, a sad smile of his own taking its seat on his face.

- “You’ll make fun of me again.”

- “It’s part of my duties as your girlfriend you beautiful dumbass.”

-And right there with you hands on either of his cheeks and tears in your eyes he knew that he would wife you up.

-Now he has been planning this for some time.

-He went all the way to California to find Iwa so they could pick a ring together.

-Both of them needed a ring but anyways.

-After obtaining the ring....he hid it for a few weeks.

-He would wake up everyday ten minutes earlier than usual and just ask you to marry him while you were still asleep.

-Once he was satisfied with the amount of times he has said it he gets up and is out the door.

-He took you to meet his team.

-he wanted to do it then but he chickened out.

-So what does he do?

-He sulks on tik tok.

-Until he comes across a video of a girl stepping into the shower with her boyfriend and pretends that she wants to ask him something important.

-Of course that was a very dumb way to ask you something so big but he got an adrenaline jump and five minutes of dumb courage.

-He sets up his phone right outside the shower curtain and just walks in with you.

- “Hi?!”

- “Hi”

-*giggles* “Can I help you mister?”

-And here is where things take a turn because doubts start to make their way into his head and his palms are getting sweaty-

- “Toru love are you alright?”

- “Marry me.”

-The video went viral, the squad clowned him until your first child was born and your kids laugh with the story till this day.

Iwaizumi Hajime

-Unlike his best friend he took this wayyyy to chill.

-It popped up in his head one night before one of your visits.

-His roommate had asked him why he stayed in a long distance relationship.

- “Is she really so worth it man? You could have a chick in your bed every night and not wait for her visits every three months.”

- “You cannot imagine how worth it she is.”

- “You sound like you wanna marry her dude.”

-And from that point on he couldn’t get it out of his head.

-Sure he had imagined your future before.

-The house you’ll have and where he would like to go on your honeymoon, what your kids might look like and what kind of mom you would be.

-But all of it was pure speculation.

-He just wanted to see how it would feel to be so domestic.

-So here he is almost a whole year after that night, choosing a ring along side Oikawa.

-This dumbass had taken the decision to get married too quickly and had called Iwa very VERY panicky and in need of some comfort.

-They both picked their respective rings and hid the velvety boxes deep in their pockets, the two best friends saying their goodbyes and heading off to their missions.

-Now Iwa wanted this to be as lass forced and too thought out as possible.

-He believes that these things are best done in privacy and only netween the two partners.

-So he doesn’t plan anything out.

-He waits for the moment when it feels right.

-And that’s why it took him over a year to actually ask you.

-Of course it wasn’t such an improptu move like Oikawas’, he was a little less tik tok-y???

-You had ordered tak out and were eating in your shared apartment.

-After graduation you got transferred to the USA and were placed near Iwa so now just like Oikawa you lived together.

-It has been a nice calm year of just domesticated fluff.

-You were telling him about your day, how one of your co-workers ate your boss’s pretchel and they flipped.

-Or how you saw a dog dressed as a hotdog right next to a hotdog stand.

-And that’s when he just drops the bomb.

-He has been keeping the small velevt box in his pocket ever since he bought it.

-Wordlessly standing up he makes his way to your side of the table and drops to one knee.

- “I’m pretty sure you know already that I believe you are my soulmate. My other half and I couldn’t begin to imagine my life without you in it. Not even a month without you. That being said, it would make me the happiest man in the world if you would give me the honor of calling you Ms. Iwaizumi. For the rest of our lives; until we are old and wrinkly with our family running around us. Y/N L/N, will you marry me?”

-You were crying at this point, nodding your head since the moment he called you his other half.

-Of course you said yes and some bomb sex followed.

-Oikawa and his now wife, were so happy to hear that Iwa finally gathered the courage to ask you.

Kuroo Tetsuro

-Baby!!!!

-He may be nasty but he is my og husband.

-Actually my second og husband.

-The first one is Akaashi.

-He bought the ring the same day he decided to ask you.

-He had been in a meeting and he was bored out of his mind so he texted you.

-You two started off by making fun of each other and ended up playing one of those dumb facebook games.

-He was letting out small giggles here and there which mind you were barely audible but the guy next to him heard them alrtight.

- “Talking with the missus eh?”

-Kuroo couldn’t control himself when he answered.

- “Yeah.”

-His coworker let out a chuckle at the sight of Kuroo’s face of surprise at his own words.

- “It was about time you wifed her. You two are so in love it almost makes me jealous.”

- “Jealous that you don’t have a beating heart Kai?”

-He got slapped....moving on.

-So with that he called you once the meeting was over and informed you of his plans for tonight.

- “Get dressed baby I’m taking you out for dinner tonight.”

- “What’s the occassion mister?”

- “It’s something special. Be ready by 9 I’ll pick you up from our apartment. Oh and could you please wear that gorgeous red dress of yours?”

- “The satin one? The one I can’t wear a bra with?”

- “You without a bra is just a bonus baby.”

- “You are a horny idiot Tetsu.”

-Now he was out on a mission.

-The mission of the ring.

-So he needed to call on the fellowship.

-Thirty minutes later Kenma, Yaku and Daichi were waiting for him at the local Starbucks.

-Alas the fellowship of the ring.

-These four idiots could barely agree on a single thing.

-Gave the shopkeepers a headache.

-But finally FINALLY they decided on one.

-Patting their friend on the back they were off, hoping that you would say yes.

-Apart from Kenma who prayed to the rain gods that you finally open your eyes and see what you are dating.

-While at the restaurant he was quieter than usual.

-He would let you talk and talk and talk about everything and anything with giving you only small nods or hums.

-He was so caught up in his head that he couldn’t see th worry in your eyes.

- “Tetsu, is everything okay? “

-And there was his oportunity.

- “Actually something is kinda bothering me and you are the only one who can help.”

-He slowly got up and made his way to your side.

- “You remember a few months back when you joked about us getting married? Or that other time when you said that I would make a great dad? Well I guess tonight will determine all of that.”

-He kneeled down and opened the small box rubbing your knee with his other hand.

- “Y/N L/N will you help me make those dreams reality?”

-Kenma disapproves.

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@iwaqchan @the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @reinyrei @bemorefiction @axerrri @dnarez

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hexalianrebel-blackfeathers · 3 years ago

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Crossfire

Panda’s Notes: Hey, it’s a new fandom. >w< I kind of fell in love with the chaos and characters from Friday Night Funkin’, so I’ve got a few stories in mind. This one is based on this piece by @fluffymary!

Find it on AO3!

John didn’t have a side. Demons, mortals; the blood of both ran through him. All he really knew was war. The smell of the gunpowder; the ringing in his head from explosive shells; the sounds of tanks and jeeps rolling across their battlefield and the men calling—

“Sir!!” He flinched out of his inner monologue and spun around to see one of his soldiers panting softly in the doorway. “He’s back again.”

As if on cue, there was a chorus of shouts under a melody of loud gunfire. Usually, John wouldn’t bat an eye, but today, he snatched his helmet and the staff leaning beside his door.

“Get Squad 17 together; tell them it’s time.”

The soldier sprinted down the hall, and John took a brisk march in the opposite direction. As he passed the infirmary windows, he could see several soldiers already appearing in beds; and with enough frequency that they quickly began to appear on top of each other. The kid certainly wasn’t slacking this time either.

The soldiers that had recovered were quick to fall into line behind John as he made his way out of the building and onto the field, fanning out to return to where their weapons had fallen from their deaths.

The air screamed as something tore through it at supersonic speeds, and the bullets from several soldiers’ guns were redirected or ricocheted back into their own or a fellow soldier’s face. A cloud of dust suddenly appeared, swirling around the little beast that caused it with his sudden stop.

Fully clad in red and green scales, carrying a beast of an automatic rifle, and excitedly whipping a long tail was the brat they’d met all those weeks ago; and had been continuing to meet every time the bastard needed to blow off steam or something. The little dragon glanced over his shoulder, eyes glowing bright green as he smirked with sharp teeth at John.

John only huffed as the dragon disappeared in a burst of speed, and he drew a strained breath as he felt blood strike his face from a soldier that happened to pass near him. Oh, he was going to teach this kid a lesson alright…

“Sir, do you copy?” John’s radio crackled softly on his shoulder, and he glanced around warily before tipping it closer to catch his voice.

“Copy. What do you want?”

“Squad 17 is in position. On your mark, sir.”

John smirked this time, drawing his staff from its holster on his back and stepping forward. “Everyone, you know what to do.”

The soldiers mobilized quickly, scattering away from the main area and gathering up in a tight group on the target practice field. Many were less than thrilled about the position they knew they were in, and they could only clutch their riot shields and brace when the call went out.

“Here he comes!” Someone shouted, and indeed, the beast could be easily spotted perched on a lamp post and sneering down at them. The rifle in his hands glowed with his green aura before he ripped it into the pair of Uzis they were all too familiar with. The second he vanished, soldiers were dropping and vanishing left and right as bullets ripped through them.

John took his time approaching; there was nothing more that the little bastard seemed to enjoy beside playing with his prey. In the meantime, he leaned into his radio, reconfirming the position and preparation of every member in Squad 17. He could feel a surge of power swirl around him and his staff, and he couldn’t resist the smile on his lips as he finally called out to their attacker.

////////////

Pico adored the battlefield. Miles away from any cities or towns to damage or helpless people to put at risk; dozens of targets to mow through for his personal speed tests; and, most importantly, he knew he couldn’t kill any of them. Pico had known about the “Tankman’s” power long before he’d first been summoned to this place by Lilith’s own abilities. He’d always assumed it was just some kind of rumor; one if his mother’s exaggerated stories.

But here he was again, watching the same soldiers he’d shot through the head reemerge from the main building to come rushing back to the fray.

Fuck whatever Heaven’s got; this was the life.

He must have been a damn sight, tail wagging all over the place. He hadn’t razed like this since he was little, and even then, it was with his mother over his shoulder making sure he was sticking to the targets and locations she’d been assigned. Nothing like letting a fully loaded toddler do your job for you, after all.

He was smacked out of the casual memory by a bullet bouncing off of his armored hand. An attempt to disarm him, probably. Yeah, right. He lunged into a run, his aura spreading out around him. He never got tired of the way bullets hung in midair, easily redirected by a slap from his hand or tail and usually finding a new target in one of the soldiers firing at him. He paused again to catch his breath, unable to keep from laughing to himself as he rolled his shoulders and checked the stopwatch he’d mounted on his rifle.

He felt a sort of tingle as a new, powerful aura hit his senses. The half-blood; the leader; the Tankman. He glanced over his shoulder, sneering a bit fiendishly at the man before zipping off and sending a shot through the soldier that was running by him. He adored pissing him off almost more than mowing through his soldiers. Almost. Nah, no he didn’t.

He spotted a crowd growing at the far end of the training field, and he made his way to the top of a lamppost to get a good look. They were practically lined up, every other row bearing riot shields that wouldn’t stand a chance against Pico’s shots while the others were taking aim.

“Here he comes!” Someone called, and they all seemed to brace and cringe.

Oh, well, now he had to flex. He made a show of transforming his rifle into his favorite pair of Uzis before lunging down into the crowd. The sounds of his guns couldn’t even reach him with how fast he was moving, and he couldn’t resist tackling some soldiers to the ground to make room for a sweep of bullets before shooting them as well. His average time was coming up; he just knew it. He needed a good finisher. Maybe something flashy…

“Alright, you little shit!” Pico flinched at that familiar voice, looking up from his position of standing on a soldier’s chest. Oh, perfect! A high level tag. It’d be a first, for him at least, but taking Tankman down a peg in front of all his soldiers would be a fantastic note to head home on.

“This little game of yours ends now, ya goddamn salamander!” Tankman barked at him, holding a…a fuckin…glowing stick?

Pico blinked, capping the soldier he was standing on before turning to face his target. Why was it taking so long for him to catch his breath? He could have been over there by now. He scoffed as he caught sight of Tankman’s smirk; what’s a little headache if he got to punch that jaw in?

His aura spread out as he prepared to rush, and whoa, whoa, time-fucking-out!

He was dizzy; way too dizzy. He stumbled to a stop, keeping his distance from Tankman; but he was still shaking. His guns vanished, and his head cleared a bit. He could see the staff in Tankman’s hand glowing, and when he narrowed his eyes to hone his demon senses, he could see purple lines and symbols etched into the ground around him. Unfortunately, such an effort threw his head back into a spin, and he found his butt hitting the dirt as his tail and scales shifted off of him to leave him seated there in his school clothes. He pushed his red curls out of his face, panting softly as he glanced around at the soldiers surrounding his new little cage. Shit; there went his run.

“Men, I’d say Operation Coyote was a complete success.” Tankman said with a grin as he stepped forward, and the soldiers cheered and laughed around him.

Pico growled as he locked his gaze on Tankman. His face shifted suddenly as his eyes glowed, flames wisping between the gaps in his teeth as he—promptly faceplanted into the dirt from the sudden lightheadedness.

“Aw, isn’t that cute?” Tankman jeered as others chuckled, and Pico looked up to see him kneeling beside the edge of the circle, which seemed a lot smaller now than it had a minute ago. “He tried to do the scary eyes.” The man popped the visor off of his helmet, and Pico’s face fell as bright purple eyes bored into him from pitch black sclera.

Tankman sneered for a moment at Pico’s speechless staring, standing up as he reattached the visor. “Heh, and that’s how you do it, kid. You like your new playpen, brat?”

Pico blushed a bit, embarrassed, and quickly got to his feet. “It’s tacky, old man.” He growled, clenching a fist and trying a punch. He wasn’t surprised when his hand couldn’t go past the circle, but he was surprised when Tankman’s hand came through to grab him by his shirt.

“Yeah, it’s an older setup;” The man hummed, easily dangling Pico’s human form as the kid kicked against the barrier. “It’s amazing what you pick up when you’re raised by Demon Hunters, eh?”

Pico snarled softly, trying to pry those deceptively strong fingers off of his collar. “When I get out of here, I’m gonna fucking—!" He was shut up when his face was yanked against the barrier.

“You’re not gonna do a damn thing, you shitty little snake-spawn!”

Pico had winced a little at what he assumed must be the “Captain voice” he’d heard rumors about, a cheeky smirk seating itself on his lips to mask his nerves.

“We’re getting sick of your games, runt; and it’s about time you were put in—”

“What?!” Pico shouted exaggeratedly, tipping his head back and kicking the barrier again. “I-I can’t hear you; some old fuck blew my eardrums out with his bitching!”

He just knew Tankman was glaring at him through that stupid visor, and Pico couldn’t help laughing tauntingly until he was dropped on the ground. The man drew his hand back, resting it on his hip as the other tightened its grip on his staff.

“Men, next step. Get started.” He ordered shortly, stepping backwards.

Pico scrambled to his feet. Okay, he was fine as long as he didn’t use his powers; no problem. The soldiers were regrouping, and about ten of them stepped closer to the circle with staves or wands or whatever conduit they carried. Pico growled softly; he had a feeling he knew what they were doing, but dammit, he couldn’t tell which of them was going to attack first. He glanced over his shoulder, sure that they’d go for his blind spot, only for something to lash around one of his wrists.

He yelped, planting his feet and trying to lean back. He did his best to suppress the instinct to use his demon strength, and he growled angrily as he was forced into a tug-of-war with at least one full-grown man who didn’t look like he was having much of a problem keeping the magic coil still. The soldier beside him seemed to perform the same spell, another coil of magic energy zipping around his free wrist.

“Ack! F-Fuckers!” Pico barked, his sneakers dragging in the dirt for a moment before he was yanked down to the ground. He cried out as his tongue got caught between his teeth, and he struggled to find traction to pull against the magic ropes.

“Not bad, boys.” Tankman called, sauntering into the circle. He rested his boot heavily on Pico’s back, and a pair of soldiers managed to wrangle Pico’s flailing legs from outside the circle. “Well, kid, not so tough now, are ya?”

Pico growled up at him, but dammit, he couldn’t think of a response. They’d actually caught him.

“Pfft, no stupid quips either, huh?” Tankman jeered. “Damn, that’s almost sad. Stevie! Front and Center!”

Pico could hear footsteps running toward them, and another soldier made an effort to pass through his sightline and give him a wave.

“Hello, Pico.” He said almost politely, carrying a book under his arm; and Pico hated how genuine he sounded. “Ah, sir, the spell’s ready when you are.”

////////////

John couldn’t help a roll of his eyes when Steve greeted the little brat, given the position they were all in. He was a sweetheart to a fault.

“The spell’s ready when you are.” Steve said with a smile, the book floating out of his palm as his hands glowed. As the pages flipped rapidly on their own, John cracked his knuckles and grinned.

“Good to hear it.” He chuckled, removing the glove on his left hand. “Hit me, Stevie.”

Steve took a deep breath and spread his fingers, and John felt magic wrap around his arm. It coiled and tightened between his fingers, supplying his powers without the circle draining them away. His arm shifted: a dark black-purple form with sharp fingers, meant to reach and pull at souls and the essences of life itself.

“Alright, kiddo…” John hummed, curling his fingers and sneering when he caught sight of the brat looking up at him. “Time to learn ya a thing or two about messing with soldiers.”

The kid yelped when John’s hand clutched at his shoulder, and John’s eyes glowed behind his visor as he forced the brat into a partial shift. Scales quickly covered his back, and half of his head became dragonesque, glowing eye included. The soldiers restraining him had to plant their feet and pull as he got a burst of strength to fight.

“Stevie?” John huffed, setting his knee on one of the kid’s legs as his free hand gripped a handle on his belt.

Steve knelt in front of their captive, smiling in that calming way he does. “Now, Pico, I can imagine how upset you must be, but I’d suggest you keep still. All we’re going to do is a sort of test. Research purposes.”

“Fuck you…” The brat hissed, and John smacked him on the back of the head with his free hand before he could stop himself.

“Don’t fucking talk to Stevie like that, shitstain.” He growled, returning his hand to his belt to finally pull up the knife he’d been unsheathing. “Since you don’t want it sugar-coated, I’m going to scrape some scales off you so our boys can find out what kind of bullshit makes you so damn bulletproof. Knowledge is half the battle, you know.”

The kid’s glowing eye turned to him, a mouth half full of sharp teeth trying to snarl.

John just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, kid, I’m so terrified.” He flipped the knife in his hand, angling the blade against the boy’s spine.

Despite the fact that he’d spent at least an hour sharpening the damn thing that morning just for this, it simply rattled along the scales like a tire of the off-road track. John sucked his teeth, his shifted hand clutching tighter when the brat tried to kick again.

“Knock it off!” He barked, sounding closer to a whine from where John was kneeling.

John bit back a chuckle, but a smirk played his lips as he set the tip of the knife at the back of the kid’s neck. “Why should I? You haven’t quit shooting up our battlefield every other day for weeks! I’d say this is the least of what you ought to get.”

Steve was eyeing the kid curiously, and he took a seat on the ground to look a little closer. John crisscrossed the knife along the scales at the center of their prisoner’s back, growing a bit frustrated when he realized he was only dulling his blade.

“I s-said quit it!” The kid’s voice pitched to a squeak, and he tried and failed again to pull. John actually paused this time, quirking an eyebrow.

“Ah, I see!” Steve suddenly said, smiling happily as he tipped his head to try and make eye contact. “You’re a little ticklish, aren’t you, Pico?”

The kid promptly looked away from him, not even letting out a growl this time.

Steve smirked a little, crossing his arms. “Oh, you’re very ticklish; my mistake.” He corrected teasingly, purposefully raising his voice a bit and giggling at the look the kid must have given him.

John rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Takes one to know one, Stevie.” He said with a little smile of his own, attempting to curb his frustration with that cute blush on Steve’s face. Of course, after all this hassle, the damn kid’s dragon hide turned his sharpest knife into a tickle tool.

Wait a fucking second…

////////////

It probably would have been easy for Pico to just tell Tankman that his demon form was pretty blade-proof, but he couldn’t resist the chance to upset him a little for putting him through this. He quickly regretted that decision when the knife managed to catch his nerves despite not breaking through his armor.

“Knock it off!” He insisted, trying to keep any giggles from slipping into his voice. That “Stevie” guy was watching him closely, and Pico was too focused on trying to struggle to hear whatever Tankman was saying. A shiver shot up his spine when the knife made zigzags across it, and damn him, that tickled so bad!

“I s-said quit it!” He squeaked out, still unable to escape the magic coils on his limbs.

“Ah, I see~!” Stevie said playfully, watching Pico’s face as he struggled. “You’re a little ticklish, aren’t you, Pico?”

The human half of his face felt hot, and he looked away from that stupid smile. He was just trying to get Pico’s guard down; he just knew it.

“Oh… you’re very ticklish; my mistake.” Stevie taunted, raising his voice enough that a few soldiers behind him actually reacted.

Pico gasped indignantly, and Stevie just giggled. Oh, he didn’t care how nice this guy was; Pico was lighting him up next time. He heard Tankman scoff, and he realized the knife wasn’t touching him anymore.

“Takes one to know one, Stevie.” Tankman teased, but then he seemed to pause as Stevie was pouting at him. Pico blinked and shook his head as it suddenly started to shift back to fully human. He didn’t have the leverage to look over his shoulder, but he saw Stevie and a few soldiers behind him smile and snicker.

Before Pico could figure out what was going on, he found himself laughing loudly and trying to struggle again. Tankman’s fingers were digging and scribbling over his back and shoulders, occasionally giving more firm scratches right over his spine. His hands crawled up and shoved into the spaces between his shoulders to flutter along his neck, ripping a squeal out of Pico’s mouth as he tried to scrunch his shoulders up to his ears.

“Gee, Stevie, I’d say he’s definitely pretty ticklish~” Tankman taunted, wiggling his fingers against Pico’s neck where he could. “The little brat’s caught my fingers.”

Pico, indeed, was making an effort to keep Tankman’s fingers pinned where they were despite the squeaky giggles he kept pulling out of him. This was embarrassing enough as it was.

Tankman leaned slightly, and Pico heard him whistle. There was a bit of a murmur, and a few footsteps crunched on the dirt.

“Oh, quit being a bitch, he can’t hurt you. Now, come here.”

Pico tried to look back, only to squeak and squirm when Tankman so much as twitched his fingers. Another weight set itself on his left ankle, and he could feel his sneaker being worked off.

“W-Wait a minute; that’s not fa—!” He tried to protest, giggles mixing in as Tankman leaned over him.

“Oh, yeah? And why is that? Your little dragon paws tickwish too?”

“Fuck you!” Pico shot back, unable to keep from laughing when the new soldier scratched gently at the sole of his foot, seemingly tracing the snake patterns on his sock.

“You know what I think is unfair?” Tankman continued, letting his nails drag one last time as he finally pulled his hands away from Pico’s neck; Pico still hesitated to let his shoulders down. “I think it’s pretty damn unfair that you keep running in here taking pot-shots at my soldiers just for shits and giggles.”

Pico had to bite his tongue to keep from giggling as Tankman aimed a poke between his shoulders to punctuate the line.

“So, obviously, it’s only fair that they get a few pot-shots at you. And hell, if bullets aren’t going to work, we’ll stick to what does.”

Tankman’s hands burrowed into Pico’s armpits, and the poor kid shrieked and yanked his arms down. “Ohoho! There it is! That’s a tickle spot, alright!” Tankman’s left hand came to pry at Pico’s right arm, his free hand scribbling faster and digging to draw out loud squeals.

Fingers were scribbling all over his foot, and someone else was digging into the back of his knee. He let out a cackle when someone’s hand found the soft part of his side, almost catching the edge of his stomach. Stevie still sat in front of him, ruffling Pico’s hair with one hand while the other gave gentle scribbles around his ears that made him giggle even harder.

“Sir, why don’t we flip him over?” Stevie suggested. “Get the poor thing out of the dirt.”

“Heh, yeah?” Tankman asked playfully, hooking his hands under Pico’s arms. “Or do you just want to find out if his tummy is as bad as yours too?”

“John!” Stevie scolded with a chuckle, and Pico flailed a bit as he was lifted up. Two soldiers grabbed his wrists, and—Wait, when the fuck did his hands get free anyway?! Pico didn’t have a chance to think about it, since several soldiers’ hands returned to their positions of scribbling or pinching around his torso.

Pico’s voice was lost in squeals and cackles as he tried to writhe. That same bastard had ahold of his foot again, and someone else was reaching over to scratch under his toes. An arm was hooked around his leg, and fingers scribbled under his knee; a claw-shaped hand vibrated and squeezed around his stomach, catching the edge of his bellybutton every time he squirmed; knuckles dug and twisted against his ribs; and there was some feather-light tracing under his chin and down his neck.

Pico was a damn patient person. He’d have been willing to forgive all that shit.

If the fuckers weren’t teasing him!!

It was mostly the fact that they were laughing at him that irked him—no, he was not just going loopy from his own laughter, the soldiers were chuckling at his ordeal like fucking sadists—but the cooing in his ears and to each other about ‘how cute’ he was, and ‘poor thing’ and ‘Maybe we could let him go if he’s learned his lesson~”

Oh, yeah, that Stevie guy was so dead.

Tankman laughed beside him, arms crossed for a moment as he tapped his foot. “Nah, maybe a little longer. Kids like him tend to need some tutoring, y’know?”

Stevie gave him a little push, chuckling, and Pico tried his best to find some clarity.

A little headache was worth the glow that came to his eye.

////////////

John shook his head as he observed the chaos. Poor kid was kind of getting destroyed. Not that he didn’t deserve it, of course, but John certainly didn’t envy him right now.

Steve approached him with a smile, softly nudging John with his shoulder and adjusting his glasses with his thumb. “The guys are ruthless as usual.” He commented, sidestepping the poke John tried to give him.

“Yes. I’ve trained them well.” John chuckled, only to snicker and shake his head as a few of his soldiers broke off into their own little tickle fights.

“Think they should let up a little yet? I almost feel bad for poor Pico.”

John wanted to roll his eyes, but they stuck on Steve as he smiled fondly. “Yeah, no.” He snorted. “Good cop ain’t on call today, Stevie.”

“Maybe we could let him go if he’s learned his lesson~?” Steve suggested, raising his voice so the kid could hear him.

John let out a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nah, maybe a little longer just for that. Kids like him tend to need some tutoring, y’know?”

“John, you’re terrible.” Steve giggled, punching his arm lightly, and John chuckled with him until he felt something.

He looked up to see the kid glaring at him as best as he could through all that laughter, one eye glowing a bright, flickering green. He rolled his eyes and smirked.

“Yeah, kid, I’m so scared…” He huffed, stepping forward and kneeling in front of him. “But as long as this circle’s up, your powers aren’t getting you any—”

Something rattled, and John spun around for a second. It had sounded like it was right against his head, as if he was wearing a rattlesnake around his neck.

Rattlesnake…

“John?” Steve called hesitantly, looking around for a moment as well. When John’s eyes fell on him, they widened fearfully before he could catch himself. A tiny spot of green light rested perfectly still on Steve’s chest. As he was pulling his staff from over his shoulder, a hail of bullets came down fast enough to turn Steve into a fine mist and hard enough to rip deep burrows in the dirt where he once stood.

“Stevie!!” He cried out, eyes narrowing sharply as he turned around. “Men, get back; get behind me!”

The air itself seemed to rattle with gunfire as the soldiers around the bastard kid were quickly thinned out. Those who had managed to get behind John were encased in the purple shield he cast. Slashing lines were cut deep into the dusty earth, cutting through anyone in their path, and, as John was quick to realize, upsetting the ground enough to break the barrier spell they’d spent so long setting up.

The kid seemed to realize, too, since he shifted quickly into his demon form and curled up tight to protect himself. The rattling came closer until bullets were battering John’s shield. He growled to himself, and the soldiers around him attempted to aid him in boosting the shield’s power, but it seemed to chip faster with their effort.

It burst within seconds, and all of John’s soldiers were gone before he could blink. And to top it all off, John’s body was thrown to the ground by a weight attempting to cave in his ribs. A heavy boot came down on his collarbone. When he was finally able to open his eyes, he found himself staring down the barrel of a rifle, his helmet lost or broken somewhere during the chaos.

Two rattling tails swayed slowly in his peripheral. Less than he was used to; she wasn’t too mad. The gun was shoved up against his cheek as she ground the toe of her boot into his neck.

“O-Okay, easy, easy! Krotalía!” John choked out, grabbing at her ankle with one hand.

“Sergeant John Captain…” She hissed slowly, eyeing him through the sights. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten my name. Maybe got your hand shot off in a way ya finally couldn’t fix it. Would explain why ya never write me anymore.”

John could hear his soldiers’ footsteps coming from the main building, but they knew to keep their distance from this one.

Krotalía continued with a snide chuckle. “But, nah. Here I find you: still in one piece; still running the boys up and down the field; and most importantly: Picking on my goddamn kid!”

“Ma, I was fine!” The kid suddenly argued, stepping forward half shifted. “I could have handled them!”

John saw one of Krotalía’s tails split into two, and a gunshot rang out as the kid was thrown backwards with a little squeak.

“Oh, we’ll be discussing your punishment in a second, ya little hell spawn.” She snarled, but John could see her smiling over her shoulder.

“Alright, Rattlesnake, cut the shit.” John huffed, giving a small grin of his own. “Let me up. We’ll chat, yeah?”

Krotalía hissed faintly, unable to keep the smile off of her lips as she finally pulled the gun away from John’s face. “Yes, let’s…” She stepped back, turning away from him and giving her son a playful kick where he was lying.

John sat up with a wince, coughing softly and spitting some blood between his teeth. “So, who wants to talk about how your little brat has been razing through our battlefield like clockwork for the past few weeks?”

The woman chuckled, lifting her kid up by the back of his shirt and setting him down. “Yeah, I had a feeling he’d been getting some training in somewhere. He’s been getting awfully competitive with me lately.”

John glared slightly; fuck him for expecting a mischief making snake bitch to discipline her mischief making dragon brat.

She laughed at him though, resting her rifle over her shoulder. “I know that look, Johnny; you read like a bad script.” One of her tails whacked her kid to nudge him forward. “Go on, Pico. Make nice for once.”

The kid crossed his arms and looked away, thumping his tail on the dirt behind him; and when he finally looked up at John, he just stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry.

John snorted before he could catch himself. “Y’know, if you’re going to act like a four-year-old, maybe you should expect the tickle monster to get ya again next time too.”

He blushed brightly and snarled, shifting suddenly and attempting to lunge, only to be caught in one of his mother’s tails. “Dammit, Pico!” She growled while John just laughed again.

She set him on his feet again, and he shifted back to a mostly human shape before she gave him another whack on the back of his head this time. He grumbled angrily and stepped forward, extending a hand.

“…You know I’ll be back, right?” He asked, hinting a smirk.

“You gonna call your mommy to bail you out then too?” John teased, but he was quick to accept the handshake before the brat… Ugh, before Pico took it back. He even ruffled that mess of red hair as he chuckled and let go of his hand. “Krotalía, you don’t have to make him apologize. We’re all friends here, yeah?”

Pico spit out a little spark of flame and tried to pout, but he couldn’t help smiling a little. Krotalía looked between the two of them and rolled her eyes with a sigh.

“Boys…” She snickered, slipping one of her tails around Pico to guide his turn away from John and the soldiers. “C’mon, kid. Let’s go over those numbers you got.”

Pico had bounced excitedly at the idea, but he glanced back as they were walking. He drew one of his handguns from thin air and sneered right at John. “I’ll get you, old man…” He growled playfully, getting a little smack on his arm by his mother’s tail.

John chuckled, shaking his head. He’d look forward to it.

“John!” John glanced back to his troops, and the crowd parted slightly to let Steve run up. John smiled as he caught him in a hug, sighing softly over his shoulder and squeezing him tight.

“Are they already gone?” Steve asked softly, having to fix his glasses when John let him go. “That’s a shame. I wanted to speak to her.”

“You would say that after getting fucking shredded, wouldn’t you?” John chuckled, giving Steve a playful shove before addressing the soldiers that had gathered.

“Alright, men! I’d say we handled that pretty well, all things considered…”

There was a chorus of chuckles and murmurs in agreement.

“Now, I think we all know damn well this isn’t the last time we’ll be seeing Pico rushing through here. More importantly, the kid’s not gonna fall for that trick so easily again. It’s time I put you all on some heavier demon hunter training.”

He glanced back at Steve, who was already flipping through his summoned spellbook. “Game on, Stevie?”

Steve smiled fondly and shook his head. “Game on, sir.”

#a panda writes a thing #friday night funkin #friday night funkin pico #tankman #Tickling #fnf tickling

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kaitycole · 4 years ago

Text

you broke me first (part 2)

Summary: You and Oikawa dated all three years of high school, that is until he broke up with you out of nowhere. Then three years later, you open the door of Iwaizumi’s apartment to find Oikawa there.

Word Count: 2825

Rating: Angst. Pinning. Mentions of anxiety. Talks of a break-up

Pairing: OIkawa x Female Reader (past tense), Iwaizumi x Female Reader

A/N: Fingers crossed I’m capturing these guys right lol I think maybe it’ll have one more part, I'm not sure. Let me know your thoughts though!

Also, I’m thinking of having two different ending, let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!

Song Choice: you broke me first by Tate McRae

Tag List: @yatoatyourservice

When Iwa finally gets back to his apartment, Oikawa is sprawled out on the floor on his phone. Shaking his head, he simply walks passed him, grabbing two beers from the fridge. He just knows he’s gonna need some.

“Oi. Here.”

Oikawa takes the beer, clinking it against Iwa’s before taking a sip. While the two of you were gone, Oikawa practically dissected all the posts on both your social media profiles. He came up empty, either you weren’t dating or weren’t making it public. It’s driving him crazy to not know, while he wasn’t expecting you to be here, he’d be lying if he said seeing you didn’t stir something up inside him. Didn’t make him rethink the last three years, comparing them to the three you spend together.

“How long as you in town?”

“A week.” He makes eye contact with Iwa, “But I’ll find somewhere else tomorrow.” Iwa shakes his head in protest, “Just stay in the spare room.” “Is Y/N okay with that?” Oikawa raises an eyebrow, trying to see how he react; but he’s stoic as usual.

He nods, “As long as you don’t act like shittykawa, I’m sure things will be fine.”

A few beers later and Iwa’s phone goes off, he excuses himself to take it. Oikawa leans back on the couch, trying to not think about you but failing.

------

It was just like every other day, an early chilly morning before school. You and Oikawa were sitting on a bench close to the school, he had just finished up a brief practice. He enjoyed this time with you, before the campus filled with tons of students especially his “fan club”.

“Oh, I brought you something!”

“Oh really? What is it, princess?” You pulled out a small bag and handed it to him: milk bread.

“Y/N, you’re the best. I love you.”

Your face turned bright pink.

“Oh, I…uhm…well, no, I love you.” He shrugs, “Wasn’t how I was planning on telling you.”

It made your heart skip, he had been planning on telling you that he loves you. And instead of some grand gesture or in some super overthought way, your dork of a boyfriend told you after getting milk break.

“You are such a dork.” You pulled him close and kissed him, “I love you too.”

There had been great days in Oikawa’s life; most of them included volleyball, but this day topped all of them. He draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your head.

“Say it again?”

Your face turned even redder, it extended to the tops of your ears, “I love you, Toru.”

Oikawa could’ve died right there and he’d have been a happy man. You and volleyball are all he needed in life and luckily, he wouldn’t have to choose one over the other, right?

Two years and three months later, he had to choose one and it wasn’t you.

------

Iwa comes back into the living room, “That was Y/N. She’s back at her dorm.”

“When did she start calling you Hajime?” His voice is full of regret and Iwa instantly picks up on it; his heart sinking.

“I’m not really sure, sometime during our first year here I think.”

“You two are together, aren’t you?” Oikawa asks, not really wanting to hear the answer. His eyes are closed and he feels like he’s going to be sick.

“Yeah. We are.” Iwa rubs the back of his neck, he never intended to keep this from his best friend.

“How long?”

“Three months.” There were several days within those months that Iwa had dialed Oikawa’s number just to hang up or not bring it up. He wanted to tell him, there was nothing keeping him from it other than himself; there was just some mental block.

“Guess you picked up all the piece, eh?” Oikawa stands up, chugging the beer on the table before grabbing his bag. He tries to think of where he can go because he can’t stay here. He doesn’t want to hear about how Iwa was there to catch you when he had left.

“It wasn’t like that. We…she didn’t even talk to me that summer or the first few months of school.” Iwa hates thinking about how you were back then, remembering just how broken you were when Oikawa left.

“Then enlighten me.”

“You broke her, shattered her, destroyed her.” He runs his fingers through his hair, “You were it for her and when you just left she fell apart. I honestly thought she didn’t come to university until we had a class together the second part of our first year.”

When Oikawa first left, Iwa assumed you’d need a few days to adjust, but it was after a few weeks that he tried reaching out. You ignored him. He eventually swung by your job at a local convenient store, only to find out that you had quit. When he went to see you at home, your mom had been the one to tell him of the break-up and that you had gone to stay with your aunt in Tokyo for the summer.

Iwa sits down, elbows on his knees with his head in his hands. Oikawa drops his bag, he didn’t realize how hard the break-up had hit you. With him going abroad, he thought it’d be easier for you. Though it hadn’t been easier for him either.

“I felt horrible, she’d become my best friend through high school and there she was and I didn’t know the slightest thing about her anymore. So, I sat next to her, made study plans with her, invited her to meals; anything that I knew she’d agree to and not see as unnecessary like parties.” He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

Iwa tells Oikawa about how you’d practically jump each time your phone went off, praying that it was Oikawa. How you flinched every time someone brought up volleyball or when people would eagerly ask you if you knew Oikawa when they learned where you went to high school. Or that you missed two days of classes when she learned he had injured his bad knee again and that it was almost a year later when you actually gave Iwa a sincere smile and laugh.

Iwa doesn’t look up Oikawa as he recounts the last few years; part of him want his best friend to feel guilty and miserable, but the other part of him feels guilty for wanting that. He recalls the time when you called him first to make plans that didn’t include the library, studying or a lecture.

He laughs, “You know she came in here about a year and a half ago now, randomly telling me she hated all my furniture and over the next four months, she had completely redecorated the apartment.” Oikawa smirks, that sounded just like you.

Oikawa continues listening to Iwa. Learning that it may have taken you a bit longer than expected, but you learned to be happy again. That a day came where you could hear his name again without cringing and how one random night you brought up a memory of the three of you out of the blue. Oikawa isn’t sure if the ache in his chest is still from hearing about how you were or from the proud smile Iwa sports talking about you.

He stands up, once again picking up his bag before nodding his head towards the hallway. “I’m beat.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Iwa stands up, motioning his friend towards the guest room.

In three separate beds lay three individuals, minds all filled with a mix of worries, regrets, and memories. In the room at the end of the hall is Iwa, trying to convince himself that laying in the middle of the bed will prevent him from missing you. It’s been months since he’s slept alone; even before an official relationship, you slept in his apartment. It started by innocently crashing on the couch after a long day to Iwa saying you could keep a few things in the spare room until the start of your third year of university, about six months ago, when you found yourself in Iwa’s bed, cuddled to his side.

It’s not until his head hits the pillow that he finally realizes why he couldn’t tell Oikawa about the two of you; he never wanted Oikawa to think he liked you during high school. He didn’t want his best friend to try to tear apart every memory, wondering if Iwa had ever tried to sabotage the two of you. He didn’t want him feeling that all his advice through your relationship was in hopes to break you two up. Because that wasn’t the case, although he couldn’t pin point when he had fallen for you, he knew without a doubt that he didn’t look or think about you in that way during your time with Oikawa. All Iwa wanted in the world was for you and Oikawa to be happy.

Just down the hall, Oikawa finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed thinking about what Iwa has just told him. He didn’t want to imagine you the broke mess he learned you had been, it’s what got him through the last three years. It was the immature reason why when he got on the plane, he didn’t glance back. He falls back on the bed, his face in his hands as he lets out a groan. This isn’t what he expected when he came to visit, he thought he and Iwa would hang out, talk about old times, and just have a good time; seeing his ex-girlfriend aka the only girl he’s ever loved was not part of his plans.

He doesn’t like that Iwa was the one who helped you get through the break-up. He doesn’t like that you were completely destroyed. He doesn’t like that three years ago he took the coward’s way out and broke up with you. Seeing you just brought up all the feelings he’d been burying for these last few years, reminding him of all the reasons why the two of you fit together so well and why he fell in love with you. And he definitely doesn’t like feeling like he’s too late because all he wants is to beg for you back. He groans again, wanting for just a moment that he could turn off his thoughts.

Across the city you’re in your college dorm room, laying on the uncomfortable twin mattress that creaks every time you roll over to adjust. Even when you move as slowly as possible, it squeaks and you feel awful for your roommate; even though she’s assured you that she can’t hear a thing. Tonight isn’t going how you originally planned, you woke up this morning thinking that you’d spend the night at Iwa’s, wake up early to him cooking breakfast and then rush to campus to work on your project. But with the slight turn of events, you probably won’t eat until lunch and be early to your group project.

There’s a pit in your stomach, thinking back to the moment you opened the door to see your ex-boyfriend standing there; looking way too good for someone that you wanted to hate. You smack your hands to your face letting out a low groan as your mind wanders. You have worked so hard to get over Oikawa; to be able to breathe and live again after he just left you. His sun-tanned skin, soft brown eyes, all have your stomach in knots and you don’t realize just how long you’ve been holding your breath until your phone vibrates.

Oikawa: You awake? (2:34 am)

Oikawa: It’s Oikawa Toru (2:34 am)

Oikawa: I’m so sorry if you’re sleeping (2:35 am)

Your stomach twists more, surely this was a coincidence and not the universe sending you a sign, right?

Y/N: Did you just send your ex a ‘you up’ text? (2:39 am)

Y/N: Classily Toru (2:39 am)

He sharply inhales, the use of his first name leaves him shocked. All night you had avoided his name altogether, going to the lengths of talking to the wooden table, but here you were using his first name. He has two favorite sounds: a volleyball smacking his hand and the way you say his name, especially his first name. You stare at the text, mentally kicking yourself for the slip up, but it felt comfortable.

Oikawa: I didn’t mean it like that (2:41 am)

Oikawa: Just wanted to talk (2:41 am)

Your hands shake as your thumbs hover over where the J and D are located. Could you? Could you just talk to Oikawa? Act as if he didn’t carelessly toss everything in the closest airport trashcan as he walked towards his gate three years ago? Could you talk to him like you did back when you first met and had become friends? Before you have time to type anything, it buzzes again in your hand and your chest constricts.

Oikawa: I know this is three years late (2:45 am)

Oikawa: And this won’t mean much at all (2:45 am)

Oikawa: Wait, I’m going to call. Hold on (2:46 am)

His hands start to sweat, feeling clammy as he tries to calm his nerves. You start to slightly panic before practically jumping out of bed and rushing into the bathroom. The light blinds you momentarily and the door clicks shut just as his name pops up on your screen, your phone buzzing repeatedly.

Taking one last breath you swipe the screen, putting your phone to your ear, “Hello?

He picks up on the shakiness of your voice, hoping his will sound more still, “Hey.”

Your stomach is all but completely knotted up as his voice fills your mind. It’s soft, like it usually was right before school in the early mornings or when he answered the phone right after he woke up. But you pick up on how it shakes just like yours, wondering what has him so nervous.

“Y/N, I am so sorry.”

“It’s…” he cuts you off.

“Wait, please let me get this all out.”

You nod, instantly realizing he can’t see you.

“An apology won’t ever be enough for what I did. What I put you through. But I am so sorry.”

Tears gently fall down your face, you wanted those words for years. Dreamed about hearing him call and apologize, saying that he made a mistake. Here you were, squatting on the floor in your dorm bathroom at nearly 3 am getting exactly what you wanted all those years ago, but is it what you need now?

“I know and I forgive Toru.” You feel winded, wondering if you really did forgive him. You know that you did, you had years ago because it was once you did that you started to feel better.

There’s a wide smile on his face, “Thank you, Y/N. Could we maybe get together? To just catch up, that is.”

“I have a project tomorrow, but I’m free Sunday.” You bite your lip nervously, but feel your stomach untwist only to fill with butterflies? Are you allowed to get butterflies with an ex? Maybe they were more like moths.

“Sunday. It’s a date then.” He catches his words just as they leave him, he leans against the wall feeling like an idiot. You were dating his best friend, he needed to word things more carefully, he didn’t want to come between you and Iwa.

“Yeah. A date.” You don’t think twice about the term, it was just an expression.

What you also didn’t think twice about is that the room Oikawa is in shares a wall with Iwa’s. The exact wall that Oikawa is leaning up against and the same Iwa who heard just enough of the conversation to feel heartbroken.

This was part of the reason when he tried telling you where Oikawa had been planning to stay, he didn’t correct your when you said girlfriend even though he knew that wasn’t correct. He was going to stay with his sister, but his nephew was sick and he didn’t want to risk it. The same way Iwa didn’t want to risk giving Oikawa an in with you. He trusts you, more than anything, but that doesn’t stop his insecurities from creeping in convincing him that he’s not worthy of anything; especially not someone like you.

When he asked you if you were still okay with dating him, it was more for him than you. He needed to know that he hadn’t been some last stitch way for you to hold onto Oikawa. That you had picked him for him, you had picked Iwaizumi Hajime and not Iwa-chan Oikawa’s best friend. And now at 3:10 am, those same insecurities wrap around him as he can’t help but wonder if your relationship is on stolen time.

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sachiwrites · 5 years ago

Note

some friends to lovers hcs for sakusa pls? i've been thirsting over him for a while and seeing him in the recent manga chapters plus season 4 is just--

same fam, same. its been a whole mess over here. yikes this got long

— you are 210% that neighbor who his parents rely on to acclimate their son into being a somewhat decent member of society. is it a hardy task for someone at the age of six? yeah. was sakusa an absolute shit at that age too? of course. but he stopped that one kid from pulling your hair in class that day so he’s basically your unofficial hero. even if it was only because apparently you had ‘cooties’.

— naturally you continued to have this unknown disease for most of your life. but apparently so did everyone else in Japan. except when you got older it simply became known as- physical contact.

— “kiyoomi, why don’t you play outside with your friend?”

—“ they’re dirty.”

— sticks and stone may break your bones but the mud streaked across your face and hands would most certainly kill sakusa. or at least that’s what you thought at the age of seven when you went grab him off his front porch anyway. he sort of whined and pushed you for it, causing you to fall back on your rear, much to his parents obvious disdain. or as so you gathered as you smirked over their shoulder as they carried you inside, earning an extra few years of sakusa’s ire.

— “yoomi, lets play tag.”

— “it’s kiyoomi. and no, play by yourself.”

— “sakusa-san, yoomi doesn’t want to-“

— “run”

— the two of you were ‘reluctant’ friends until the age of eight. more or less, sakusa was required to spend at least half an hour outside with you a daily. half way through that the tenture you had mercy on him and introduced him to video games within the safety of his own home. sakusa has zero interest in crash bandicoot, but he likes you a little more for your concede.

— but his parents knew what they were doing when they put their son’s social reputation into your hands. for a while you were his only friend but occasionally you were able to integrate him into society. through little things like sitting down your lunch next to his and offering to be his partner in project.

— “i don’t need your help with this.”

— “maybe, but i need yours, so pretty please.”

— sakusa was a young genius and it would benefit you to take advantage of that feature. call it payment for all your years of servitude.

— the only time you found yourself not needing to be a crutch in his life was when he was playing volleyball. it was an option during recess to give the students an opportunity to scout out interests in athletic ventures. the sport was almost too perfect for sakusa- as an indoor requirement with almost no physical contact. it was his niche. a part of society that catered to his needs in a way that didn’t require your intervention.

— naturally, others began taking notice of his talents. other students were more likely to invite him for games during breaks- most knowing to keep their distance and touch to a limit. his own enjoyment of the sport slowly geared him towards pseudo-friendships that allowed him to play more and garner his skill set.

— “im going to try out for the volleyball club.”

— of course you knew this much. it was what he was so obviously looking forward to the most in junior high. it was just his decision to share his own thought with you the struck home.

— “yeah? i guess i should get some cheers ready for you games, eh?”

— he flinches away from your enthusiasm, his face portraying a mistake in letting you know so soon. but not once did he ever deter you from coming. in fact, you continued to be made aware of each an every upcoming match regardless of importance.

— “we have a practice match against haizen today.”

— wasn’t the most significant but he invited you so you’d be there. probably more vocal than you needed to be but he could mark your attendance and that’s all that mattered.

— a small part of you was worried that volleyball would take your place. it obviously had more suitable attributes than you. but it almost became a staple in your evolving relationship.

— in fact the first game you missed inflicted the first real argument you could remember having with sakusa. it surprised even his parents when you met him the next day to walk to class. you were use to a quiet shoulder but not a cold shoulder.

— “is something wrong?”

— it continued for most of the trip until you couldn’t take it anymore and reached for his arm. instead of shaking you off, he turns on you, gaze lit a flame with an emotion you didn’t recognize.

— “i had a game and you didn’t show up.”

— thinking back you did recall most of the students congregating towards the gym after class. it vaguely registered but you’d seen less of sakusa that day and more of pressing from your teacher to get your grades in order.

— “i had to stay back with my instructor. i needed help with my studies.”

— it was a little embarrassing- not something you wanted to admit. especially to someone like sakusa who obviously excelled where you fell short.

— “you’re an idiot. you come to me for that. ill help you after my games.”

— perphas it was in that moment that you should have realized that sakusa was more cognitive of his reliance than you were.

— what he does realize it how much he’s going to have to help you if he intended for you to join him at itachiyama. the school had shown interest in him earlier than year and it was mutual. but it’s prestige called for academics when sports weren’t your strong suit.

— matches weren’t the only appointments sakusa held you to. nearly everyday after class, whether your place or his, he made himself present while you studied. he wasn’t an overbearing tutor but he called you out in your faults and made you aware of mistakes before they became a habit. he wasn’t going to make you a super genius but you would become a student worthy of acceptance.

— the two of you were building something that only your parents noticed at first while watching from the doorway. itachiyama would be a dynamic chapter for both of you.

— the title of that chapter is: volleyball. because wow does that become an even bigger part of your life. itachiyama was already a powerhouse before sakusa but now he’s a cog in the wheel and an important one at that. quickly climbing ranks and becoming an imperative part of the team. if only he was more receptive to his newly popular status.

— he was still the same old germaphobe- avoiding crowds and wanting to get home as soon as possible to shower in his own tub instead of the school issued ones.

— his personality sort of highlighted your presence more than you expected. but given sakusa’s overall avoidance of unnecessary interactions, it shouldn’t have been much of a surprise.

— “he can be a bit much, but please take care of him.”

— above your bowed head, his older teammate coo and awe at sakusa’s cute little friend. this of course leads to more teasing for him but it’s all part of being part of a team- a larger whole. something you were willing to give up a bit of sakusa for.

— “are you two dating or something?”

— oh but that. you get a lot of that. not just by his teammates either. everyone seems to notice how sakusa tolerates you more than anyone else. though part of you wants to point out to his fan base that they would get a lot further if they just gave him his space. -yet here you were huddled up close in the library while he looked over your school work, so what could you say to that?

— “are you paying attention?”

— “hey, i got most of these right. give me a break.”

— not thinking about it, you go to ruffle his hair as a retort. an action sure to give you his ire- but it doesn’t? in fact his gaze doesn’t even lift from his book. and is he leaning closer? weird.

— sakusa is making rapid progress not only within tokyo but on a national level. it’s one of his teammates that points out his accomplishments to you one day while you’re waiting for sakusa to emerge from the locker rooms.

— “your boyfriend is really something else. already the ace of the team and he’s climbing the stats nationally too. you must be proud.”

— you are proud. very impressed, in fact. but sakusa is not your boyfriend. an important note that you most certainly do not get to point out because now sakusa is here and is corralling you towards the exit from his pressure of his chest against your back.

— he’s much more hands on now. less in tolerating your touch and more so initiating his own. it’s a late realization but most of your attention is stuck on that same teammate who is waving mischievously from the door.

— but oh man. it’s becoming a lot more obvious to you now when sakusa offers to hold you books while you change your shoes, and holding on to them even as you travel to class. he sits a little bit closer to you during study hall now, the erratic hitter of your knee brushing against his with every jerk up.

— “...are you okay, ‘yoomi?”

— he doesn’t complain about the name. not even a pinch of his brow, just confusion as he peers down at you.

— “im fine.”

— huh

— it’s all fun and games until his fingers catch yours one day while you walk side by side. it seemed like a fluke, just an accidental swing and bump. but then they’re latching and now you’re connected?

— “yoomi?”

— “it’s cold”

— yeah. okay, fair enough.

— periodic becomes occasional and now it’s a habit.

— and of course everyone takes notice. because sure sakusa tolerates you more than most. but now there’s a basis for it.

— “ah, so tables have turned.”

— “i knew it.”

— “top in the nation and already dating. our little kohai is such a pillar.”

— you’re beyond overwhelmed. worse because kiyoomi looks mildly irritated but doesn’t seem to be denying any of it.

— and you just have to ask.

— “yoomi are we dating?”

— because wow, only yesterday it seemed like he was still just your best friend. one who held your hand, shared his lunch, fell asleep on your shoulder in more than one occasion-

“— “we’re together. we’ve always been.”

— okay, yeah but context here.

— but then he’s dragging down the mask across his face, letting it hang under his chin. his lips are on your temple and phew, that’s new.

— “we should get home. i have a match tomorrow.”

— a game that becomes a statement in more ways than one.

— “ooh, is that sakusa’s jacket? so the rumors are true.”

— you fumble with the sleeves that seems to be determined to swallow up your hands. when he’d first offered it to you, it seemed so natural.

— “you might get cold.”

— god your boyf-... friend was so confusing.

— “not really. he hasn’t asked.”

— your classmate seems unconvinced but doesn’t comment further. that’s doesn’t say the same for the rest of the class who use every opportunity to chip at your resolve.

— “haven’t they been dating the whole time?”

— “they always hold hands now.”

— “i mean that’s his jacket isn’t it? it’s he like a germaphobe?”

— it’s getting harder to concentrate on the game. and certainly doesn’t help with every glance sakusa tosses up into the stands. by the end of the match, you’re beyond frazzled and ready to just sakusa the second he emerges from the gym.

— his teammate offer thanks in exchange for your praises on a game well won. it helps to distract you for a brief moment-but there he is now.

— his fingers slip befeeen yours like they belong and you can’t find the voice to complain. after congratulating him, there’s not much more said on your part. he walks you to your doorstep, not just the entrance, and lets his hand fall away. yet you both linger.

— “are we-“

— “are you-“

— when it comes down to it. obviously sakusa fails when it comes to words and actions seem to speak clearly.

— sakusa doesn’t protest when you reach up and undo his face mask for him. going as far as to lower his head, aware of your intentions, when you lean in.

— it’s a short kiss. a testing peck to balance in the shallow end before diving deep. his nose nudges yours and it’s your laugh that breaks the kiss.

— kiss-with kiyoomi sakusa-your once reluctant friend and now?

— sakusa leans in again. this time his hand on your shoulder for stabilization. there’s no tongue or extra touches. it’s just the act.

— life is all about changes.

— you smile and decide, yeah, you can do this.

— before he can leave, however, he’s tugging at the collar of his jacket.

— “i prefer to use my own detergent. but you can have it back tomorrow.”

— or maybe just some adjustments.

#sakusa kiyoomi imagine #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #ill readmore it when im not mobile

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

Text

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 3

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it’s own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You’re Peter’s classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don’t know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you’re lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Peter always unapologetically stealing all the uwus. It’s the MCU law, sorry, didn’t make it. Tony Stark can ✨rail me✨. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She deserves THE WORLD! I’m not kidding. Please visit her and show her some love, my homegirl is stressed 💖✨

I didn’t see Bruce nor Tony for a week. The doctor was away on some science conference (he sent me one dorky selfie next to a whiteboard full of barely intelligible equations as proof), Tony was in California, having some sort of a board meeting. How do I know? Peter, out of lack of better things to do, constantly texted me updates on his science patron’s whereabouts and what-abouts.

In times like these, it took me for a loop - I was on a first name basis with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. In the beginning, I was intimidated - I avoided them both like the plague and tinkered in the lab with headphones on whenever I could, until Tony made a comment so snarky I couldn’t resist joking back. That’s not to say Bruce was a social butterfly, but even he gave into my tomfoolery after seeing me stand calmly throughout several of Tony’s hissy fits.

What amazed me even more so was that despite Tony being literally an insufferable little brat, I still longed after him. Sure, the man was hot as hell - but his physical traits were much less significant when it came to my feelings towards him than the amount of sheer drive and willpower he possessed. He was stubborn - that’s another trait we shared - and unapologetically himself in every damn situation.

I could write poetry about the million expressions in his face, about the shine in his eyes.

But I won’t. He’s a technical guru. Ever since I started hanging around the tower, I became much more conscious about what I posted online. Not to say I had a Stark fan blog or anything, but I’d stopped scrolling through the tag, even if I didn’t actually click on any articles. I dutifully reblogged pictures of Tom Ellis instead - while he was a very fine, distinguished man, he wasn’t Tony Stark. I enjoyed looking at the first and enjoyed being around the other. And even though my feed still had the occasional “I love arm” shitpost, I focused on aesthetic pictures and quotes instead - things I had an active internet presence for.

My personal life wasn’t very interesting. I didn’t have any close friends and any and all sex I’ve had was just a bunch of one night stands, fueled by alcohol, selfish lust and the occasional joint. Despite having a fair share of kind, generous lovers, the morning after left me feeling a little bit emptier every time. I thought about getting a boyfriend or something… But quickly became totally clueless as to where I could find one. Men under twenty-five could barely hold my interest long enough to have a casual chat and I wasn’t naive enough to think there were a lot of honest, well-intentioned thirty-somethings that wanted to date my high school ass.

Peter had a crush on me, I knew that. The boy developed one or another kind of feelings for anybody who showed him the tiniest bit of kindness and it alarmed me. In any other case I would have bailed on him, gently, of course, to spare him the disappointment but my selfishness got in the way. I regretted it every day. A wave of desperation rose in me every time I thought about moving on without seeing Tony or Bruce, without Peter shyly smiling at me as he explained how the things he created worked. A faint hope that one day, his schoolboy puppy love will grow into a brotherly kind of regard was the only thing that kept me afloat in my sea of guilt.

As the Fall rolled around, so did my gloomy mood. It was hard to be sad when the sun was shining and the birds were chirping outside, but with clouds hanging over the city like a lead curtain, the bottled up negativity rose to the surface uninvited. Mother had returned from her business trip, adding an uncomfortable, hollow sort of chill to the house wherever she stood. I don’t know what was worse - the hours we spent in one room ignoring each other or the immaculately structured questions she asked me about my studies and extra-curriculars. Mother didn’t ask me about my friends, or my feelings or any of the other things a mother was supposed to give a damn about.

I was an asset to her company and that was that. If you would have asked her, she would tell you I’m old enough for her to mind her own business - which was technically true. Yet according to her, I’ve been old enough since seventh grade. My dad answered his messages sporadically, sometimes with a two-word answer and sometimes with a cocaine and booze fueled rant eleven texts long. I felt sorry for him. I really did.

My phone was blowing up. Party invitations, likes from people I saw once or twice (“oh my god, you’re, like, so hot, what’s your Insta”), DMs from guys looking to score an easy piece of ass. I never answered. If I wanted to party, I just sort of showed up and everybody went along with it. I took care of my appearance and it showed - never once was I turned away from a party. Everyone wanted to dance, to share their drinks, to light up and get faded together and fade into the city, into the cold air and grey sky.

Skirt swaying and top clinging to my chest, I danced. The sweaty, heated bodies around me did the same. Not one of us cared, it was a Tuesday night and the place packed way too many people. An arm snaked around my waist, startling me. I had to begrudgingly crack open an eye to see the bastard in the dimly lit room.

“I saw you at the bar, you looked bored. Maybe you need something to cheer you up?”

So not a creepy rapist. Just your friendly neighborhood drug dealer. At house parties like these, there was always The Guy. He never danced, he sipped on the same drink all night yet always looked like he was having the time of his life. I was no stranger to the occasional joint, or even something more stimulating…

“I got the good stuff, sweetums, you’ll be fine and dandy in no time.”

Eh, what the hell. I inconspicuously danced with the guy to the middle of the crowd, exchanging a few crumpled dollar notes for a baggie of two pills. In no time, I chased one down with a hastily poured Jack.

The world did become better, as the drug dealer promised. People were nicer, friendlier and I almost didn’t believe mother was a useless, stone cold bitch. I almost didn’t care that I was deeply, madly in love with a man as unreachable as Olympus. If I squinted, the guy sitting at the bar looked kind of like Tony, tan, dark hair, worn jeans and a band tee.

So I danced. I danced and I stared right at him and then we danced some more. I closed my eyes, letting his arms grab me and pull me, I let his beard scratch my neck where he sucked a mark on me, I let his rough palms choke me against a wall in one of the bedrooms on the second floor of the house. It felt good to be wanted. It felt great to be needed as he rutted inside of me, hitting that sweet spot with every twitch of his hips.

It felt lonely when he left, pressing a kiss to my forehead and saying something dumb like “Be good, kid.”. I don’t remember what exactly it was, only that I had to turn my face away from his breath that reeked like weed and vodka.

To shake off the void that made home inside of my chest, I went to the roof to get some fresh air. The house had a nice patio on it - I actually knew the owner - that hosted more plants than I’d care to count. There was an ashtray and an abandoned pack of cigarettes. I greeted the faintly blooming sunrise surrounded by a cloud of smoke, shivering in the autumn mist.

Sounds of the party became less prominent with every passing minute as people geared up to go home and get a few winks of sleep before going to work. New Yorkers weren’t really thoughtful partying on a Tuesday, but then again, neither was I. The city always was busy - even then, at the crack of dawn, the dull throb of a bassline was rudely interrupted by a blaring car alarm followed by dogs barking in aggravation.

The more I sat there, the bleaker everything became. I had enough common sense to know I was just coming off the drug but for once, I had been happy and content for several hours without a care in the world. It had been too long since I felt that way and what’s a little low after a good high?

Mother left for her early conference at five AM sharp, I entered my house at five-thirty, making a beeline in the shower and immediately dumping my alcohol and cigarette soaked clothes into the wash with the smelliest detergent I could find. I gave similar treatment to my body and my hair, using the chemically-smelling products on my body and on my hair, brushing my teeth multiple times.

By the time I was leaving for school, only a faint smell lingered in the air where I’d previously entered, so I set the air freshener to automatically spray the obnoxious mist every ten minutes. Mother gets home at twelve for lunch, that should be more than enough time for any remnants of my partying to disappear into the lilac and lavender fumes.

The Valium I’d popped to deal with the aftermath of Molly made my brain sluggish. One look in the mirror and I hastily put my sunglasses on - the ashen colour of my face and the slightly crazed look wasn’t very complimentary to my complexion. The teacher didn’t give a damn. I stared blankly ahead of me for most part of first period.

“What happened to you? You look like hell!” Peter’s exclamation, while usually would’ve alarmed me, barely made a dent in my stupor.

“I feel like shit, too,” Admit what you can’t deny. Deny what you can’t admit. “I didn’t get any sleep. Like, at all.”

Peter frowned, the crease between his eyebrows growing deeper with every passing second. I flinched when his hand tentatively touched my forehead - the pounding in my temples slowed to a dull throbbing but it was still unpleasant when someone was all up in my space.

“Jesus, you’re as cold as a corpse. Maybe you should go see the nurse,” His worry bled into me too. Like hell I was going to the school nurse! They were specifically trained to recognize the signs of substance abuse.

“I’ll head home straight after school, I think we’ll have to skip our sciencing,” No way also I’d be letting Tony and Bruce see me like this. Oh my God, I was a mess. “Mother’s home.” I added. Even the emotional frostbite I’d get from being around her was more tolerable than being a downer for Peter and Tony.

Peter’s face immediately softened in sympathy. He knew almost everything about my relationship with my family, including him actually seeing my mother that one time. He told me she gave him the creeps and I don’t blame him at all. The stoicism that was required for her work made my mother an unbearable person to exist around outside of her fancy office on the top floor of a glass high-rise building.

“Okay, but promise to text me if it gets worse. You might have caught the autumn bug that’s been going around,” He obviously said the last part to calm himself down. Sweet little Peter, naïve child. I solemnly nodded nonetheless.

When I got home, I went straight to bed. Tony was being Tony, as usual, but in a strangely kind way. I suppose it should’ve made me feel better and it kind of did, but then it went downhill from there. I couldn’t explain why I started crying. I bawled my eyes out at how unfair this god-damned world was and when the doorbell rang… Let’s say, the delivery boy hightailed it out of there once the bag of takeout was deposited into my arms. I looked and felt ghastly.

I ate as much as I could and dropped into a restless nap, drifting in and out of sleep with exhausted exasperation. There had not been a time where I felt so low after popping a pill and I was equal parts alarmed and satisfied. For one, the drug dealer didn’t lie like they usually do - the stuff was good and I still had the other pill hidden away in a bottle of painkillers, inconspicuously mixed with other white pills but shape distinctive enough for me to recognize should I have need in taking it again.

The thought of well, taking it again, was fleeting. I had school tomorrow and a missed science bender to make up for. A few buzzes of my phone later, I felt happier. Better. Not so down anymore. I meant every word that I said - Bruce was very precious, kind and gentle. And so, warm and soft. And totally kissable.

Well, fuck. What do I do now?

#bun writes #party favours #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n #I've already got a room in Hell y'all welcome to book one nearby

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keelywolfe · 4 years ago

Text

FIC: Just Swimmingly ch.2 (BAON)

Summary: Jeff has a lot to think about and what better place to do it than at the bar with his best buddy, Stretch?

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags To Come

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

The night wasn’t as young as it used to be, but to be fair, neither was Jeff. After a few hours of sitting on a bar stool, his tailbone would be more than willing to testify on that.

He leaned back against the bar in an effort to take some of his weight off of it, grimacing as he watched the dance floor. Colored lights flashed to the thrumming bass beat over the gyrating dancers and out in the thrashing sea of sweaty human bodies there was a head that was above almost all of them. Stretch towered over most humans and never was it more obvious than right then. The lights reflected off his smooth skull, a living disco ball, and around him other humans were laughing and cheering as they danced.

Edge would be having a conniption right about now and Jeff was a little bemused to find his anxiety having an internal dance competition of its own. Currently it was at ‘chachacha’ levels, watching all those Humans grinding up on Stretch. He didn’t want to think anyone here would hurt Stretch, intentionally or otherwise, but the threat of low HP always loomed. His trust in humanity took a pretty big dip a few months ago outside a Chinese restaurant and he had the scars to prove it.

Jeff took another sip of his drink. His straw crackled against the bottom of the glass as he finished it off, leaving only lonely ice cubes behind and he set it back on the bar as he settled back in for a little spare contemplation.

If he were honest, wasn’t a huge fan of the club scene even before he started dating Antwan. Not that he didn’t like going out but his problems with it were twofold. One, bars sucked to go to alone and back then he didn’t have a lot of real estate in the friend territory and two, it cost money. His disposable cash in those days was a lot like a pink unicorn: nonexistent.

Being friends with Stretch took care of both of those problems but a third loomed up to take their place like an unwanted acquaintance. Put bluntly, Jeff could not dance and until Kevin Bacon showed up to give him a few lessons, he probably wasn’t gonna learn how.

Not that he really minded that much. Guarding their drinks and listening to the music wasn’t a bad way to spend the night.

Besides, Stretch didn’t seem to care if he wasn’t up to evacuating the dance floor. He mostly let Jeff sit at the bar where he tried to look like someone with deep and mysterious thoughts to process instead of the person he actually was, far more likely to accidently spill his drink into his lap than anything else. On either side of him were other people doing the same, a row of wallflowers watching the dance floor with wistful envy.

Mostly Stretch left him to it but sometimes he’d bounce his way back and haul Jeff out for a song, any song, fast, slow, techno-bop, dubstep, didn’t matter to Stretch, he was an equal opportunist when it came to friendly torment and if Jeff felt a lot like Frankenstein’s monster tromping around next to Stretch’s lithe booty shake, eh, that was okay. Sacrificing a little dignity for a friend’s fun times was part of the package.

As far as he knew, Stretch didn’t go out to the clubs often either, but if there was one thing Jeff had learned when it came to Stretch, it was there were no half-measures. If he was in, he was all in, and that included drinking, dancing, and on the weekends, the occasional explosion caused by a thermal reaction. Truly a wide variety of hobbies came into play when hanging out with Stretch and going out to the bars pretty much guaranteed something interesting would happen.

Like the time they met those guys who’d come into town for the last beat poetry night. One of them mentioned liking Stretch’s Intergalactic Beastie Boys t-shirt so Stretch convinced them all to swap shirts and then swapped them around again, until they were all three shirts removed from the one they’d arrived in. Pants were a harder sell and if Stretch were ever hard up for money, he might take up selling ice to penguins because in no time they were all out on the sidewalk, firmly dismissed from Grillby’s over their rampant laughter drowning out the poet’s rambling about the burden of solitude. The Waffle House they ended up at had a less stringent dress code and all of them crammed into a booth to eat greasy breakfast food at two am in their boxer shorts. At least those were all their own and his plain cotton boxer briefs were no match against Stretch’s ‘wanna tickle my pickle’ pair.

He was pretty sure all those guys still followed Stretch on twitter.

He wondered what Edge had thought of Stretch wandering home in an entirely new wardrobe, minus pants. There was no way he didn’t notice, Edge was very intent on fashion, even Stretch’s version of it. Knowing him, he probably made Stretch strip right in the living room and soaked both him and his clothes in Lysol before burning his boxer shorts. The old-new t-shirt Jeff ended up with was hanging in closet even though it was two sizes too big for him. Antwan stole it sometimes for lounging around the house purposes and seeing him in it was always a cheap thrill.

Huh, now that he was thinking about it, he’d gone to the bar more this past year than in his whole life before. Not just with Stretch either, Blue and Papyrus had brought him along for karaoke a few times and that was an experience right there. Their singing was like a vocal interpretation of his dancing and just as painful for witnesses.

He’d even had a drink a couple of times with Red. Well, he’d been a tag along with Antwan but still. Red was still vaguely terrifying, but Jeff had gotten the occasional glimpse under his onion layers. He knew a little of what Edge and Red went through before they came here. His knowledge pretty much barely skimmed the surface, they’d both been soldiers and they might’ve gotten out alive, but not entirely unscathed. Knowing Red’s HP was similar to Stretch’s and he’d still survived? Perspective was a hell of a thing and it paid to look at Red from a slant.

Speaking of perspective, he was definitely liking the music. They were a local band and this place was close to the college, a good spot to hopefully get noticed and work their way up. The bar itself had probably been here for fifty years, the bartop pitted with scratches and scars from college students of yore, the stools definitely up for reupholstering.

It was really no surprise to find out that Stretch knew the current owner. He knew loads of people, wriggled his way into their lives a lot like he’d wriggled into Jeff’s. Only difference was, he didn’t usually let the other person wriggle back and yeah, okay, that metaphor was going in weird places, but the meaning stood. Stretch was good with shortcuts and he knew a lot of people, but he wasn’t necessarily friends with a lot. Jeff was pretty happy to be on the short list.

Knowing people came in handy, too, and bringing Stretch along always came with added perks. Catty only asked him to listen to the bands on the list to get a feel for their sound, but he’d be able to bring her a better report than that since they were going to go meet the band after their set was done. It would give him a chance feel them out, see if they were even interested in participating in the Midnight Monster Jamboree, as Catty had slyly dubbed it. After everything went down in California, they needed some serious good will.

The Monster community had been found not at fault for what happened right away, but Antwan told him court cases would be dragging on for a while yet. When Humans died, other Humans wanted someone to pay, and Monsters were easy scapegoats for unreasonable anger. His team was working their butts off on it, Antwan coming home at night so very tired, mostly falling into Jeff’s arms to sleep and yet still so grimly determined. Jeff couldn’t do much about all that, but he could try his damnedest to get their big public relations event off the ground.

The idea was to have a huge event for Humans and Monsters together and for it to be held in New New Home. Asgore thought that some of the problems with Humans might be a result of them thinking Monsters had something to hide, so what better way to show them who Monsters really were than a chance to see into their supposedly secret lives.

Jeff was on the lowest rung for planning and even from his view, it looked like a nightmare. Security details made up of both Human and Monsters, background checks, food, entertainment. Access was going to be extremely limited and the guest list was daunting; there were going to be some big names in politics and entertainment. That circled back to his job, getting some local bands together for the opening shows. Partly good public relations, but also an earnest desire to help out a few struggling locals with the kind of exposure most groups could only dream about. That was so like Monsters, trying to help others in the midst of helping themselves, but it sure was a lot of damn pegs getting shoved into so many slots.

He didn’t even want to know what Edge’s current schedule looked like.

There was a soft thud behind him and Jeff turned to see the bartender was bringing him another drink. The guy was probably somewhere around his age, unless you were gauging it by his world-weary expression, which probably put him at about right around three hundred.

He must’ve known Stretch, too. When they saw each other, he youthened to a spry two hundred and seventy after a complicated series of fist bumps. As an added bonus, he’d been keeping their drinks topped up and as someone who usually couldn’t even get a bartender to see him much less pour him a drink, Jeff sure did appreciate the VIP service.

He started reaching for his drink, but a sudden tap on his shoulder startled him. He turned around. A guy he didn’t recognize was standing there, not too bad on the eyes and weirdly nervous, enough that Jeff thought he might actually be trying to pick him up before he noticed the guy was holding something out.

“Did you drop this?” the guy said, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. It was a wallet and Jeff automatically checked his back pocket even as his eyes told him it wasn’t his.

He shook his head and the guy nodded, but instead of asking anyone else or handing it to the bartender, he wandered off towards the entrance.

Okay, that was odd. Jeff shrugged mentally, lots of weird people at the bar, maybe he was going to give it to the guy at the door in case whoever lost it noticed when they left.

He forgot about it as Stretch came back from the dance floor, sweat gleaming on his skull and face. That always gave Jeff a little pause, what exact purpose did sweating serve for a skeleton? Maybe he’d ask sometime when he was less busy with work. If Stretch didn’t know the answer to something, the journey to find out tended to be entertaining, and possibly less explosive this time around, although he wouldn’t put the chances at zero.

Stretch grinned at him, still panting, and picked up his own drink, gulping down half of it in one swallow. Jeff couldn’t remember was it was. Stretch tended to order more for the name than the taste, so it was probably something like a slippery nipple or a total screaming orgasm. Whatever it was, a skewer of fruit was floating in it and Stretch fished it out, pulling the cherry off the end with his teeth.

“so what do you think of the band?” Stretch asked, perfectly audible even over the loud music. There was another point of interest; when your voice was produced by magic, it didn’t always obey the rules of sound. “gonna give catty the thumbs up?

“I like it,” Jeff shrugged. He could barely hear his own voice, trusting that magical hearing worked the same way as speaking, “but I’m not the greatest judge of music. That’s why I bring you along.”

Stretch chuckled and propped his elbows on the bar, slouching back. It put him almost at head level with Jeff and the shirt he’d almost certainly borrowed from Edge pulled tight across his ribcage. “think i’m a better simon cowell than you?”

“No, you’re more Paula Abdul, and anyway, two heads are better than one.” Jeff played with the straw in his own drink. “Jokes aside, this is important, I don’t want to mess it up.”

“you’re not gonna mess it up.” Stretch scoffed. He bit a chunk of pineapple in half before polishing off the rest of his drink. “how even? you’re doing double-duty as it is. henry said once they’re finished, we can meet them backstage. i’ll have a chat with them, we’ll see if they’re assholes, and good to go! besides, it’s not like security isn’t gonna give ‘em a good, hard rundown, anyway.”

It was the truth and he knew it, but there was always that niggling little doubt in the back of his mind, that somehow he’d find a way to mess it up, and that would be it. This was so important to the Monster community and his chance to finally payback some of what’d they’d given him. He could do this, Jeff told himself, and he’d do it right.

The band started a new set, something with a low, growling bassline and Jeff turned back to watch, only to freeze as Stretch suddenly spoke again, the single word clear as a bell in church.

“jeff.”

The name caught his attention as much as the tone, Stretch never called him Jeff, it was always Andy or kiddo or whatever nickname was currently floating his proverbial boat. The last time he’d called Jeff by his actual name, he’d been lying in a parking lot in a pool of his own blood. The taste of hot metal was strong on the back of his tongue as he turned back to Stretch, his heart pounding, and some cringing part of him expected to see that friendly face instead as the one that appeared sometimes in his worst dreams, a deathmask with one socket dark and blank, the other strobing orange with grim intensity.

But Stretch only looked like his normal self and when he spoke again, each word was calmly measured and deliberate. "i don't feel right. i think we should go."

Somehow, that was even more alarming, and his worry quickly overshadowed any lingering bad memories that were vying for his attention.

“Sure,” Jeff said, “right now.” He hopped down from the stool. Stretch pushed off from the bar and staggered, leaning hard against Jeff and thank fuck he was light because his height already made it awkward to hold him up. He started to call for the bartender, maybe there was someplace they could sit down in the back while he called Edge, when another guy came up next to them, helping hold Stretch up. Then another on Jeff’s side and he started to protest that he didn’t need help when a voice growled close to his ear.

"Don’t look at me. Keep your mouth shut or I'll kill you."

It was followed by the sensation of something hard butting into his ribs and this could not be happening. This did not happen in the real world, this wasn’t a Jason Bourne movie, there could not be a gun pressed to his side right now. Even his own fear was sitting on the sidelines, pushed out by disbelief as Jeff stumblingly followed the guiding arm around him leading towards the door. The crowd reluctantly parted and next to them, Stretch was shuffling along, his eye lights blown wide and fuzzily diffused. He started sagging, his skull lolling back on his shoulders and around them were murmurs, people starting to notice.

“Hey, what’s going on? Stretch?” From the direction of the bar, and Jeff glanced back wildly to catch the bartender watching with dawning concern. There was no time to say a word, to even mouth a desperate ‘help’ before he was forcibly swung back around and pushed through the door.

The cold night air was like a slap in the face, sobering, and fear was starting to sink its teeth in past his disbelief. The guy next to him was keeping back out of his line of sight and he could only barely see the one on Stretch, dark hair, taller, burly, did he have a gun, too, who were they and why—?

By the entrance, the bouncer looked up in surprise as they walked past. “Hey, Stretch, you guys, okay?”

“Fuck off!” The man holding onto Jeff barked and the gun swung towards the bouncer. There was a beat of incongruous silence broken by the strains of music coming from inside the bar, then a girl screamed, the waiting crowd scattering.

“Fuck! Get them in the car!” A different voice, loud and panicky and he caught another glimpse of dark hair before he was shoved forward again. He stumbled, almost falling to his knees among the cigarette butts that scattered the asphalt, and the memory of another parking lot was strong, the swell of panic gagging him.

He didn’t resist as he was pushed towards a van, the side door sliding open and then he was inside it, collapsing across the backseat.

Weight dropped directly on top of him with a clatter of bones and Jeff grunted, trying to push Stretch off of him enough to sit up. Only to lose his balance again as the van squealed away from the curb, the tangle of his own limbs catching with Stretch’s limp ones.

A new voice barked from the direction of the driver’s seat. “Get their phones, hurry up!”

Rough hands grabbing at them, and Jeff instinctively tried to recoil, but there was nowhere to go. His phone was yanked from his pocket and Stretch didn’t say a word, only breathing with a slurry snore into Jeff’s ear. There was the sound of a power window going down, of tires squealing against asphalt and the inside of the van was too dark to see.

Not that it mattered. Rough hands hauled Jeff upright and the person they belonged to was wearing a ski mask like a fucking heist cliché. Jeff choked back a hysterical laugh, but even panicked amusement took a backseat when ski mask demanded, “Okay, both of you need to strip.”

Jeff only stared in mute horror, barely comprehending as a duffle bag was suddenly thrust at them.

“Change into these,” Ski Mask ordered, “Don’t get any funny ideas.”

There was a pun there, Stretch would have been able to think of one. Would have if he wasn’t lying slumped across the seat. His sockets were still open, but his eye lights were dim and unseeing, the lights were on and no one was home, not quite a pun but it’d have to do.

“Please, don’t hurt him,” Jeff said. He tried not to look at the guy with the gun as he carefully opened the duffle and pulled out the clothes inside, choosing his words with the same care. “He’s…he’s fragile, just a punch and you could kill him. Please.”

“Then don’t make us do anything that’ll get him hurt.”

Good advice from a shitty source.

Jeff scrambled into the oversized t-shirt and sweatpants in the bag, then helped the other…what, kidnapper? Asshole was the strongest contender in his head and that was what Jeff went with. Helped Asshole #2 get Stretch change into his. The guy was brusque but not ungentle, at least, and the second they were finished, the van pulled up next to a dumpster. A fourth asshole sitting in the front seat hopped out, tossing all their clothes plus the bag into it. Four against two, not including guns, not the best odds. Like Jeff would have been much help even if it were mano a mano. He sure as hell wasn’t a fighter past panicked desperation and he wasn’t about to hinge Stretch’s life on that.

“Now, sit back and relax,” said Asshole With A Gun. “You two behave and no one gets hurt, okay?”

Jeff knew a lie when he heard one. He nodded anyway and huddled into the seat, one arm looped around Stretch to offer what feeble protection he could. His skull resting in Jeff’s lap was a familiar weight from movie nights and Netflix marathons. His unconsciousness was not, but he was alive, they both were. It was a place to start.

Jeff kept silent, petting the smooth curve of Stretch’s skull as he watched the streetlights flash by and waited to see what came next.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #original undertale characters #by any other name

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geralt-of-baevia · 5 years ago

Text

Happenstance

Summary: Henry is about to go to bed one night when he suddenly gets a text from a random number he doesn’t know. What happens when you accidentally text the star actor of The Witcher? Memes apparently. Lots and lots of memes.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Lizzy Moore)

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: None...yet! Just some fluffy flirting. Well okay and lots of mention of his crotch? 😬😘

A/N: So I’ve had this idea bouncing around in my brain for a LONG time and finally pulled the trigger and wrote it! It’s in texting format, and I hope you like it! This is my first time posting fan fiction on here so I’m nervous and excited!

Beta: Thank you to @avengeful-bunny for being my AMAZING beta. I don’t know what I would do without you. 💛💛💛

Tagging: I’m going to tag all those whose work has inspired me to write and post my work! Much love to ALL of you! @littlefreya @dancingwendigo @mary-ann84 @yespolkadotkitty @viking-raider @cavillhoney

Part 1: Oops.

(405:) God, girl. You will not BELIEVE the day I had. I'm pretty sure I lost a pint of blood today from how many times I stabbed myself sewing.

(405:)

(Henry:) You should probably get a thimble for that.

(Henry:) Also, I do believe you have the wrong number. Considering you started the text off with 'girl' and I am quite the opposite. But even so, please spill the tea. I’m dying to know about this UNBELIEVABLE day you’ve had.

(Henry:)

(405:) Oh my god, MR. CAVILL I AM soooo SO SO SORRY. I must have accidentally clicked on your name and not my friend's name.

(405:) I feel really awkward having your number when you don’t have mine. Do you want me to delete it? Just to make sure this doesn’t happen again? Also so some random crew member doesn’t have your number?

(Henry:) Oh god, please call me Henry. There’s no need for such formalities. And it’s fine, there’s no need to delete it. Since you mentioned crew and sewing, I'm assuming you work for the costuming department?

(Henry:) Also, I have your number now, don't I? :P

(405:) By it’s fine do you mean this kind of fine?

(405:)

(Henry:) Oh no, it’s LITERALLY fine. I promise.

(Henry:)

(405:) But to answer your question, yes! I work for the costuming department. I’m newer, so I get to do the usual stuff. Mostly just lots of mending at the moment. And JUST TO BE CLEAR, I won't do anything to abuse this number since you're Henry Cavill.

(405:) And you’re Henry Cavill. Also you are my co-worker, my I’m assuming super rich, god tier co-worker that I’m not supposed to make eye contact with nevermind TEXT.

(Henry:)

(Henry:) But yes, my name is Henry. Please keep my number, we’re coworkers after all, it’s normal for coworkers to have each other’s numbers. Have we met on set before?

(405:) We have once or twice, just in passing mostly. Once I brought you clothes to your trailer.

(Henry:) Are you the one with the brown and pink hair?

(405:) That's me. :)

(Henry:) Don't tell me your name, I know what it is.

(405:) Are you sure about that? You don't seem too confident :P

(Henry:) I know it starts with an E. Is it Eloise? Eleanor? I know it was something old fashioned, too.

(405:) Man, you're so close. I mean, kind of. Think of historical dead English queens. Like, for example you were best friends with her dad. You were a fancy Duke who was good with the sword and ladies. Also, I’m sorry, aren’t you supposed to be a big nerd?

(Henry:) ELIZABETH!

(Henry:) And I am a HUGE nerd thank you very much.

(Elizabeth:) Yes, that's my name haha. Also, whoa whoa, settle down there cowboy.

(Elizabeth:) And it’s just Lizzy, with a Y. The thought of spelling it with an IE makes me cringe.

(Lizzy:)

(Henry:) Pretty much everyone? Who doesn't call you Lizzy?

(Lizzy:) My dad, my grandma, my teachers, my victims, my doctor, the one girl in high school who hated me.

(Henry:) Haha that's quite the list there Lizzy Borden. I think it’s your turn to settle down. :P

(Henry:) Well then Lizzy with a Y, it's nice to finally talk to you, even though it's over text.

(Henry:) So I have to ask, I take it they were cracking the whip pretty hard in wardrobe today?

(Lizzy:) You know, I was doing what I thought was a pretty damn good job of avoiding that subject.

(Henry:) Nope, you can't slip past me. This brain is like an iron trap.

(Lizzy:) If you MUST know...

(Henry:) I really do. I'm sitting on the edge of my seat in anticipation.

(Henry:)

(Lizzy:) Okay well that just sounds sarcastic. I don't HAVE to tell you... :P

(Lizzy:) I'm kidding, kidding. Well, since you MUST know, I spent at least half of my day mending clothes, particularly the crotch of multiple pairs of your pants. Also a few pairs had the butt blown out.

(Henry:) The crotch?

(Lizzy:) Yes, the CROTCH OF YOUR PANTS HENRY. :P Honestly I'm used to it at this point though. It's not the first time, or I'm assuming the last, that I'll have to mend the crotch of your pants. It’s not your fault the studio wants you in tighter fitting clothes that can show off how muscular you are. It’s just my job to fix it. ;)

(Henry:) I guess I never really thought about who it was having to mend them when that happens.

(Lizzy:) And it’s not just your crotch area I mend, it’s your inseams as well. I think your thighs got a little bigger since the initial fitting. :P

(Lizzy:) And yes, us little people taking care of you famous movie stars, making sure you stay looking like the heartthrob you are. Since that is your job and all. :P

(Henry:) Hey now, I’m more than just a pretty face. You make me sound like a talentless hack. But thank you. For your sake I'll try and not blow out any more seams, especially the crotch.

(Lizzy:) You don't need to thank me, it's literally my job. ;)

(Lizzy:) I mean, if your muscles didn’t rip through clothing on a regular basis I’d be out of a job! How rude.

(Henry:) Well I mean in that case I COULD make it a habit. ;)

(Lizzy:) All I have to say is I’m SO glad we don’t have to worry about shirt buttons on you during this. I’ve seen the stress you put on buttons during press junkets. The anxiety I feel, Henry. So much anxiety.

(Lizzy:)

(Henry:) Yeah, those shirts never seem to fit my chest right. I taught myself how to sew buttons on my shirts so I could stop asking others to help.

(Lizzy:) Okay, the fact that you taught yourself how to sew on buttons because it’s a CONTINUING issue is both hilarious and adorable. :P

(Henry:)

(Henry:) So I’m curious about something, costume wise.

(Lizzy:) Yes? I’m sure I can answer, costume wise. ;)

(Henry:) How long does it take to sew together a shirt from scratch?

(Lizzy:) Well, it all depends on the type of shirt, and what it’s for. For the sake of film, there are so many steps. Design, pattern making, grading, construction, fitting. That’s just a fraction of it. It’s a very long process.

(Lizzy:) But if I was at home making a shirt for a friend, I could do it start to finish in a couple of hours. They're not hard. I can sew them together in my sleep.

(Henry:) A few HOURS? That's amazing.

(Lizzy:) Eh, it's what I went to school for. ;) It’s not that impressive to me.

(Henry:) Well, to me it is at least. ;)

(Lizzy:)

(Henry:)

(Henry:) Unfortunately, it's time for me to go to bed. I have an early call time in the morning.

(Lizzy:) You're going to bed at 6 in the evening? I’m assuming you have a super crazy call time? One time I had a call time of 1 am because there were things that had to be fixed by the time you and Anya got to set at 4 am. Although it does have it’s advantages. I get to have the first pick of craft services, and sunrises are always nice to watch.

(Lizzy:) But I’m sorry, that sucks. :(

(Henry:) Some days it does, especially when I can't seem to fall asleep. But today was exhausting so I don't think I'll have any issues tonight. Plus Kal has been extra cuddly tonight so I definitely won’t have any issues.

(Lizzy:) Well then, I guess this is where we say goodnight. I hope you sleep well. :)

(Henry:) Thank you. I hope you do, too. Hopefully tomorrow will involve less bleeding onto garments. ;P

(Lizzy:) Haha, I mean it really doesn’t matter. If anything it makes the garment just look THAT much more legit. I hope you have a good day on set tomorrow. :)

(Henry:) Thank you. It was really nice talking to you Lizzy. I hope we talk more again soon. :)

(Lizzy:) It was nice talking to you, too. And I would really like that. :)

(Lizzy:) Goodnight, Henry. :)

(Henry:) Goodnight Lizzy. Sleep well. :)

#henry cavill #geralt of rivia #the man from uncle #the witcher #tmfu #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fc #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill witcher #fanfic #henrycavillfanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henrycavillxreader

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sweetsubharry · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! Thank u so much for all the fic recs!! I wanted to ask u if u knew any famous Louis and non famous Harry fics?

Hiya! tysm!! 💖 and yes I do!!

Please stay safe and read the tags loves! x

"You sang my song!"🎶 by heyidkyay

Based on the video where Louis reacts to his fans covering his songs. Harry's one of the fans and Louis can't get over the curly haired angel with the beautiful voice.

everything comes back to you by amory

Louis lets out a shuddering breath. “I love you,” he says.

“Fuck you,” Harry replies.

“You know that I’ve always loved you,” Louis continues, not stopping to acknowledge what Harry’s said.

Harry shakes his head. “I know, but sometimes I wonder if that ever went past us just growing up together. We were never apart Louis, never for so many years, and the minute we were you just left me. So sometimes, when I let myself think about it, I think maybe that’s why we don’t work. You were just so used to loving me because you didn’t know anything else.”

Louis and Harry, best friends since before either of them can remember, broke up four years ago. Louis has achieved his dreams of becoming the next big thing while Harry has stayed back, dedicating himself to his studies. Both are content to forget what they had together, until a tragedy brings them right back into each other's lives.

I Swear I Am by beautyhaz

The five times Harry's relationship is revealed unplanned and the one time it is planned - sorta.

Gasoline Stars by galacticlourry (orphan_account)

It reminded him of stardust, of the history of suns, and he supposed that was what the boy asleep on his shoulder had been created out of. The history of suns.

...

Or, an AU where it's all nice and innocent until someone ends up pregnant. (That would be Harry.) Also known as the Mpreg AU I've doubt you've read before.

Answer All Your Wishes by SadaVeniren

Harry and Louis met when Harry was thirteen and as first impressions go theirs was memorable enough to start a life long romance.

AKA a Tom Fletcher/Giovanna Fletcher AU where Louis is part of One Direction, Harry is the love of his life who blogs, and they have many, many children.

Just Maybe by Goodchampagneandprivateplanes

“You can put it under Tomlinson — eh, Louis Tomlinson, actually. But, if anybody asks, I was never here.”

Lucky Ones by lovelarry10, theendofjune

Harry doesn’t believe love is on the cards for him. Louis just wants someone to love him for him and not what he can do for them. Together they learn what love and trust is all about while having a little (or rather, a lot) of fun along the way.

Harold Took A Walk In The Moonlight by cuppalou

“Why don’t you introduce me to your lovely friends then go get dressed, darling.” Louis teases him, but Harry just ignores it. He already looked stupid, what can he do about it now? Harry guides Louis into their small dining room where Liam is sat at the head of the table on one side, Zayn to his left, and Niall to his right.

“This is Zayn” Zayn waves. “He’s the idiot that I let be my friend because Liam begged me to like him.” Zayn pouts a bit.

“You love me, douchebag.” Zayn mutters.

“Next to him is Liam.” Liam waves. “He was my college roommate, and for some crazy reason, I agreed to live with him and Zayn here.”

“I think the crazy reason is that you’re dirt poor.” Zayn grins, finally having an appropriate comeback. Liam swats him on the arm and tells him to shut up, but then returns to cuddling into his side.

“And the crazy pseudo-blonde is Niall, who I can stand to be around most of the time.” Louis laughs loud and bright.

“What’s funny?” Niall asks.

Louis leans over and whispers in Niall’s ear “I’ll tell you when that loser goes to change, I don’t want to embarrass him too much"

You'll Always Find Your Way Back Home by styleandsin

Now, as he’s standing in the doorway, he’s trying not to get choked up. He hadn’t realized how much he missed this: the smell of his mother’s baking, the sounds of each of his family members, the sight of some of his old toys scattered about the foyer where his littlest siblings had presumably left them. All these things scream home, and he hadn’t felt at home since he left this house eight years ago.

Louis needs a break from everything, from acting and the constant pressure of life in LA. He decides to move back home for a bit, some time with his family is exactly what can lift his spirits. What he doesn't expect is to fall in love. Both with the town he hated so much so that he couldn't wait to leave it years ago and with a curly haired florist that was the complete opposite of the guys he'd often meet in LA.

#Lottie fic rec #larry fanfiction #larry fic #larry fic rec #larry fanfic rec #larry fics #Larry Stylinson #larry stylinson fic rec #larry stylinson fanfiction #bottom harry #top louis #sub harry #dom louis #harry is louis' baby #ask lots

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stusbunker · 4 years ago

Text

Brother Knows Best

A Supernatural Fan-fiction

Featuring: Sam Winchester/ Plus-sized!Reader

Written for: @lukn4inspo for my 800 follower Celebration

Word Count: 1679

Warnings: Floof, Dean playing wingman, self esteem issues

It had been months since he had seen her in person, and the sight of her crawling out of her truck just to beam up at him with her gorgeous smile hit Sam straight in the chest.

“How was the trip?” he asked once he shook the cobwebs out of his thoughts.

“Not bad, yours?” She shrugged just before she snuck her arms under his for a quick hug. Sam held on a little longer than she seemed to, enjoying the way her plush body pressed to his.

“The usual, straight through with a lot of Zeppelin,” Sam replied.

“At least you got to sleep?” She offered, optimistic as she rounded the rear of her vehicle to grab her bags. Sam caught up quickly and took what could only be her weapons from her, it was so heavy.

“Uh, just listened to a podcast actually,” Sam said, almost as an afterthought.

“Nice! I just caught up on mine on the way. What are you into these days?” She tossed her bag over her shoulder and listened intently as he rattled off the ones he had checked out. When he got to the ones he listened to regularly she beat him to the punch, listing three out of the four right along with him.

“You like true crime, how did I not know that?” Sam chuckled.

“Am I into True Crime?! Boy, I practically only do cases where I can get a peek at some serial killer paraphernalia, if not the actual crime scenes,” she balked.

“Ever been to the Lizzie Borden house?” Sam kept going.

Dean watched them from the doorway of the motel room, shaking his head.

Dean glared at Sam across the booth, his brother’s eyes had gone glassy as he watched her hips as she rushed out of the diner and back to surveillance detail. This was going to be a long one, Dean thought to himself as he slurped his coffee loud enough to draw Sam out of his little revelry.

“Really?” Sam’s face pinched in annoyance.

“You should go with her, see if you find anything,” Dean suggested over the rim of his mug.

“What? Come on, man, she’ll be fine,” Sam looked at Dean like he was crazy.

“Oh I’m sure she is, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go, eh?” Dean waggled his eyebrows.

“Stop. It’s not like that,” Sam rolled his eyes and went back to his egg white omelette.

Dean chuckled and started counting off reasons with his fingers. “She’s cute. She’s single. She listens to the same creepy ass podcasts you listen to. And she called you about the case.”

“Just, stop, okay? Sure, she’s great, but it’s just a case,” Sam shrugged. “It doesn’t mean she’s interested in me like that.”

“Aren’t you? Interested in her?” Dean pressed, head cocked knowingly.

Sam bit his lip and set down his cup for a refill from the waitress. The table fell quiet as they said their thanks and returned to their meals.

Was he? Sam didn’t usually allow himself the novelty of romance. He’d been through too much. He’d lost too many people to think it was in the cards for him. Hunters don’t get happily-ever-afters. Sure, she was smart and resourceful. And Sam did get warm in the cheeks whenever she smiled. Sam introspected until Dean dropped his silverware and blinked at Sam with slow disbelief.

“Once this is over, you’re asking her out or I’m doing it for you,” Dean spat out under narrowed eyes.

Sam rolled his eyes again. “Fine. I’ll talk to her. Okay? Geez.”

Dean grinned and patted Sam on the shoulder. “That’s more like it, Sammy.”

Sam stood awkwardly at the edge of the booth, Dean refused to slide in another inch.

“Hey, Y/N, would you mind scooting in for Sam? I want to keep this leg elevated,” Dean asked, playing the injury card. They had wrapped up the vengeful spirit and had gone for drinks to celebrate an early night off the job.

“Sure? Actually, why don’t I,---” she stood and eased out off the bench seat, brushing against Sam as he moved to take her place. “If that’s cool? I just wanted to grab the first round, since you guys drove in for the assist.”

Sam swallowed as she looked up at him, eyes playful and full of gratitude.

“That’d be great, thanks.” Sam awkwardly patted her shoulder before he dropped onto the old vinyl seat.

Dean waited until she was out of earshot. “Have you ever spoken to a woman before? Did I just invent every person you’ve ever slept with? Because what the hell was that?!”

Sam flinched and eyed Dean in annoyance. “Shut up. She was--- it was--- I was just really close to her,” Sam trailed off. “Anyway, you can shut up about your knee, you’re fine. You drove here fast enough.”

Dean shrugged. “Well, I’m not as young as I used to be, Sammy. And neither are you, so pace yourself, alright?” Dean nodded, tapping his temple and gesturing to Sam’s junk.

“You are disgusting.” Sam pointlessly looked to the heavens for help.

She quickly returned with a round of shots in her hands and three beers clutched to one breast. Sam tried not to oggle as she leaned down to disburse the drinks, but her tank top was askew from her efforts. Dean chuckled and drummed on the table.

“That’s what I’m talking about! Bottoms up!” Dean toasted her and polished off his shot.

Sam stilled as she rested her hand behind his back and leaned in. “You gonna let me in or do I have to pay a toll?”

“Oh, sorry, here,” Sam slid to the farthest reaches of the bench, retreating from the welcoming give of her body as it brushed against his shoulder. He didn’t catch her look of confusion.

“Let’s go, you two, gotta keep up!” Dean pushed their shots closer.

They drank and talked, laughter and stories flowed freely long into the night. Sam kept to beer, mainly because Dean had blatantly stolen his shots. She trailed off after the third round, bringing them water and beer instead.

“So, where to next, champ?” Dean asked her, fingering through the bottom of a bowl of popcorn.

“Who knows, not gonna start looking until check out time tomorrow,” she answered, playing with the straw in her glass, and followed up asking pointedly of Sam. “You guys heading back to your fortress of duo-tude first thing?”

He chuckled at her jab and nodded, sighing. “Yeah, as long as nothing pops up between here and there.”

Sam glanced at Dean and Dean’s eyes dropped to the table, assessing the graveyard before them. “You know what, why don’t I just clear these out of the way. Don’t need to give the staff more to---,” Dean’s voice dropped to a mutter as he rather obviously left Sam alone with the girl.

“Glad to see his leg is better,” she murmured, a smile dancing around the tip of her straw.

“Yeah, it was just hollow, needed his hunter fuel to fill it back up,” Sam agreed, dimples on full display. Sam poked the side of his cheek with his tongue, considering if he should keep talking. “You know, I told him I would talk to you after the case. He threatened to ask you out for me if I didn’t.”

“Damn, big brother goes that hard to get you some, huh?” She laughed, but the nervousness was palpable.

“I guess,” Sam huffed, feeling the conversation was balancing on the edge of a knife.

“Well, it’s a good thing you talked to me then, cleared the air. Don’t have to worry about Dean butting in anymore,” she nodded, swallowing. She wouldn’t look at Sam, his stomach dropped.

“Hey.” Sam spun to face her completely, his knee bent at an awkward angle in the narrow booth. “Want to get out of here?”

“You’re serious?” She balked. “I thought that was your way of letting me down gently.”

Sam’s face twisted in concern and he shook his head. Before he realized it he was leaning towards her, her face still a mask of skepticism. The telltale rumble of the impala’s engine revved in the parking lot, which Dean hardly ever did. Sam closed his eyes and shook his head.

“And apparently my brother is as tactless as ever.” Sam sighed. “Mind taking me back to the motel? I mean, unless you wanted to---?”

She looked defeated. “Sam, are you sure this isn’t Dean tricking you into being stuck with me? Like a joke he’ll use against you in the future?” Her doubt tore through him; she’d been hurt before, more than he’d realized.

Sam dropped a hand to her thigh. “What? No, Dean even said you were cute. He’s just a little too---enthusiastic, sometimes.”

He waited for her to believe him, nervous for an entirely different reason than he had been all night. She put her hand on his, squeezing as she looked into his eyes. Sam saw a deep pool of emotion and he couldn’t help but lurch forward and give her the only true reassurance he could. His lips met hers in an earnest kiss. Sam forgot to be scared and worked to be honest. To prove to her that she was who he wanted.

That this was real.

She quickly caught up, mouth opening to accept his graces. When she pulled away gasping, Sam couldn’t help but grin. She rested her temple against his cheek as their fingers intertwined on her lap.

“Okay, okay, twist my arm why don’t ya?” she teased.

“I mean, you are basically rescuing me from walking back,” Sam reasoned. “My hero.”

“Wow, you really are gonna lay it on thick now, aren’t you?” She blushed and shook her head, giving him a playful kiss.

“Pretty thick, yeah.” Sam bit his lips, but couldn’t stop himself from continuing. “But mostly long.”

She gave him an impressed cocked eyebrow.

“Hey, Sam?” She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “wanna get out of here?”

Prompt #8 of 8

Sam and plus size reader where he’s smitten?

Tagging:

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#supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #stu's 800 or less #sam winchester/plussized!reader #sam fluff #plussized!reader #sam winchester/reader

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 4 years ago

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The Love Cruise - by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Read on AO3: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Or on FF

Tagging: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda

Chapter 4: Captain Jones

“Do you think Barbados is ready for me?” Ruby stood, showing off her tanned body in her new bikini.

“Girl, I don’t think anyone is ready for you in that. Where’s the rest of it?” She spun around and Emma fanned herself, teasing her friend.

“Why are you wearing so many layers?”

Emma tugged her cover up tighter around her waist. “Not everyone can flaunt it like you can. I look like they lock me in the closet during the day and my body never sees the sunlight.”

“Oh stop, you’re sexy as hell, Emma. I’ve seen more than a few guys turning their heads when you walk by, though usually you are running away from them so they can’t catch you.”

“Whatever, I told you I’m not interested in finding a guy on this damn cruise.”

“Not even that guy, Graham, that asked you to dance?”

Emma scrunched her nose and shook her head. “He’s cute, and a great dancer, but, eh, I don’t know.”

“You know, he’s going to be with us today?”

“What? How do you know?”

“Because I talked to him after dinner and he’s on the same excursion we are.”

“If you’re so interested in him, why don’t you hook up with him?”

“I would if he wasn’t asking about you half the time.”

Emma groaned. “Can we just go? I don’t want to talk about men all damn day. I want to enjoy the beach, the sand, the ocean in Barbados. We are in fucking Barbados, Ruby. Together. When we are back in Boston and it’s raining, will we have these men to keep us warm? No, but we will have each other.”

“Ho’s before bro’s?” She giggled as Will walked into their room.

“Do I get to be a ho?”

“You are by far the biggest ho, William!” Emma laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Are you still mad at me?” She planted her lips on his cheek and he groaned, wiping the pink smudge off his face.

“I’m not bloody happy with you, but what’s a bloke to do? You’re my best friend and I can’t stay mad at ya.” He put his finger up to her face, “But don’t do that shit again. That girl won’t stop asking me about rum recipes now.”

“You didn’t seem too upset when she kept telling you how talented you were at the bar last night.”

“Wait, what did I miss?” Emma looked between the pair on either side of her.

“One of the bartenders let him make our drinks at the piano bar. You should have seen him playing it up, flipping bottles, acting like a goddamn bar hero. He was on his game.”

“I’m fucking talented as hell, that had nothing to do with that lass.”

“You were showing off.” Emma teased. “You do like her.”

“I do not.” He resisted, less forcefully than he had the day before. Emma was sure he liked her, but she was also sure that he was probably feeling guilty about liking her also.

“You know it’s ok to like another girl, Will.” Emma slid her hand onto the back of his head, pressing his forehead to hers. “Ana’s gone. You deserve to have some fun.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Why are you ladies always pushing me so hard to move on from Ana? What if I don’t want to move on?”

“You don’t want to move on because you’re too afraid to open yourself up again and maybe get hurt.”

“Besides, we love you, Boo.” Ruby added, wrapping her arms around them both.

“No Boo. You both promised, not here.” His mouth turned up in a grin. “But I love you guys too.”

~*~

“Absolutely not.” Regina stood with her arms crossed in front of her.

“You can’t work 24 hours a day, we get to leave the ship for a few hours, are you really going to deny this simply because I’m going?” Robin whined.

“Yes.” She said matter-of-factly.

“Ok enough of this, we’re going.” Killian gestured to Robin before turning around and pointing at Regina, “And you’re coming with us. Captain’s orders.”

“You can’t do that.”

Killian shrugged, “I just did. I’m not going to have my Cruise Director burned out 4 days into our voyage, we are going to imbibe in some alcoholic beverages in Barbados.”

“Fine, but it is under duress.”

“At least that will be two of us on this bloody cruise under duress.” He winked at Robin and the three of them left the ship in search of a good bar.

Being the Captain did have its perks, they were directed to apparently the best bar on the beach they could find and an hour later, sitting with their feet in the sand and a bucket of beer, the three of them found themselves engaging in nonviolent conversations.

Regina was laughing, “Wait, so you were just going to leave him there?”

“Of course, I was, he was about to start a riot.” Killian said as he felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes, his body shaking from his laughter.

“Do you remember what I said to the guy?”

They both looked at each other and spoke in unison. “The only way you'll ever get laid is if you crawl up a chicken's ass and wait.”

“Which one of you got punched first.” Regina eyed them with curiosity.

Robin raised his hand. “I ended up on the pool table. Killian tossed one of the guys into a stool. By that point, the manager threw us all out.”

“That was the last time we insulted the Captain’s son again.”

“You two really are idiots.” Regina quipped as she took another sip of her beer.

“But we had you laughing.” Robin winked.

“Only because I was imagining you getting your ass kicked.”

Killian nursed his beer, watching the two of them doing what he could only describe as violent flirting, until he started to feel like a third wheel.

“I’ll be back.” He announced, heading inside toward the bar, and discreetly paying the tab. “If they get anything else, just put it on the same card.”

Killian exited the bar and walked through the small town, browsing the shops until he followed the path toward the beach. He saw groups of travelers lounging on the sand or sailing on the water, most likely passengers on his ship.

He toed off his shoes and walked barefoot through the sand, looking up he saw her, laying on a towel, an oversized hat perched on her blonde locks, reading a book. She was gorgeous. Her friend, a tall brunette he had seen her with earlier was wearing a very tiny bikini, arching her back and taking in the rays to her already sun kissed skin.

There were others with them, the man she was laughing with earlier stood nearby talking to a shorter woman. A taller man with wavy hair was sitting just off to the side of Emma, he glanced at her often, but Emma seemed not to take notice, her head buried in the words in front of her.

He continued to walk along the wet sand, observing the woman who had captured his attention when she looked up, glancing at the waves out beyond him. He looked away quickly, reaching down to pick up a shell he nearly stepped on. When he looked up again, she was gone.

~*~

Emma was reading the same line over and over again in her book, trying to avoid the gaze of Graham, who was seated to her right. At first, she thought he was looking at Ruby, God knows if she were a hot-blooded man, she would be. But when she caught his eye, he smiled at her and attempted to make conversation. Emma froze and immediately buried her head in her book.

It’s not that she didn’t think he was attractive and extremely nice; she just didn’t know what to say to him. She knew he was a Sheriff in some small town in Maine and that her brother thought he was quite impressive, which made her not want to talk to him even more than she had before her brother started pointing out all the things they had in common.

She peered up from her book, a feeling washing over her like she was being watched. She peeked to her right, but Graham was talking to David and Will was finally having a real conversation with Belle as they bounced a volleyball back and forth between them.

Her eyes scanned the beach when she saw him picking up shells near the water. He seemed to look her way and then turned back toward the ocean.

“I’m gonna go dip my toes in the water.” She announced suddenly to Ruby who was currently lying ass up on the towel beside her.

“Have fun.” She replied lazily.

She jogged toward Killian who was facing the ocean now and skipped up behind him. “Are you considering throwing yourself in because if you are, I actually do know how to swim, in case you need saving.”

He turned suddenly and his bright smile made her heart skip a beat.

“Swan, fancy meeting you here.”

“Did you go on an excursion today?”

“No, I hung out at one of the bars a little way down the beach.” He pointed behind him.

“Drinking alone?”

“Oh, no I went with a few friends.”

“I didn’t realize you came with people. Or did you meet them here?”

“My buddy…” He paused. “Um, my buddy and I came together.”

“Did you ditch him?” She asked looking around for his friend.

“He is entertaining a lass back at the bar, felt like a third wheel. Have you been on the beach all day?”

“My brother dragged us all sail boarding, so I’m gonna be really sore tomorrow considering all the times I fell into the water, but it was a really good day.”

He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling as the sun beat down on him. “That sounds like you had a lot of fun.”

“Do you maybe want to get a drink later tonight?” She blurted out, wondering where that blast of courage came from.

He looked at his feet and she panicked. “I uh, I think I need to tell you something first.”

“Oh?” Suddenly there was screaming behind her on the beach and she turned to see Ruby yelling and running toward a group of people. “Oh, shit, I gotta…” She turned and ran toward Ruby, looking down the beach to what was causing her so much stress. August was lying on the ground, holding his leg.

“Oh God what happened?”

“We were playing volleyball and the old man slipped, I think he twisted his ankle.” Will said in a slight panic.

“I’m ok guys.” August groaned, “I think I just sprained it.” He stood up and then stepped down, immediately falling back down to his knees.

“Ok Mate, you’re gonna need help back to the ship, you’ll need the medic to take a look at that ankle.”

She was shocked when Killian sprung into the middle of the group, helping August to his feet. “Should we all go?” Ruby asked August.

“No, you guys stay here, have fun. I’ll just go back and make sure everything is ok.” August waved them all off.

“I’ll go with him; the sun is starting to burn my skin.” Emma announced and Killian made eye contact with her, a smile forming on his lips.

Emma stood on the other side of August, wrapping her arm around him to help support his other side. “Come on dad, let’s get you to a doctor.”

“Very funny, Emma.” He chided her and Killian laughed.

“You sure you don’t mind going back to the ship?” She asked Killian.

“Absolutely, it’s important that all the passengers are taken care of.” Emma looked at him quizzically but continued walking toward the pier.

~*~

Killian knew he should have just told her he was the damn Captain when they first met. He tried to tell her at the beach and then her friend got hurt and as Captain it was important that he took the man back to the ship, his passengers health always came first over innocent flirting with one of the women on his ship.

Once they made it to the infirmary, he spotted Tink at the back of the bay. He waved her over and she jumped into action.

“Jones, have you started combing the ship for injured passengers now?”

He laughed nervously, avoiding eye contact with Emma. “I believe we have a twisted ankle.” He helped get the man up on the bed.

“Name?” Tink questioned as she pulled up her iPad to search the passenger list.

“August Booth.”

Killian backed up against the wall and watched as she examined his ankle. He observed Emma asking questions, checking to ensure that he was going to be ok and he slowly backed out of the room. He’d tell Emma later about being the Captain, right now she had more important things to tend to.

~*~

“So, it looks like it’s just sprained.” She ran her hand over his ankle again and Emma couldn’t help but notice the way August watched the nurse in awe.

“Well, does that mean I have to spend all my time down here in the infirmary now?” He joked innocently.

Tink laughed, “Well only if you want to.” She teased and Emma suddenly felt like she was invading a private moment.

That’s when Emma noticed that Killian was no longer in the room. “Oh, did you see where the guy who helped us went?”

Tink looked up and laughed. “Jones? Pretty sure he probably went back to the bridge.”

“The bridge? What bridge would that be?”

“Of the boat, did you hit your head or something. That’s where the Captain usually is when we are getting close to leaving port.”

“Captain?”

“You are talking about Captain Jones, right? The guy you came in with?” She pointed haphazardly toward the wall of photos behind her before turning back to August to wrap his ankle.

Emma walked up to the wall and immediately recognized the blue eyes in the largest photo in the center. Her heart was racing as she read the inscription under the portrait.

Captain Killian Jones

Holy Shit!

~*~

“Ok spill.” Emma turned to look at Ruby who was staring at her from across the room as they got ready for dinner.

“Spill what?”

“Who is he?”

“Who is who?” Emma turned back toward the mirror; confusion littered across her face.

“The hot drink of water you found on the beach; you know who I’m talking about.” Ruby glared at her with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“What, the guy who helped August? Good Samaritan, I guess.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

“Bullshit, I was watching you before all that happened, you went directly to him on the beach.”

“What, are you spying on me now?” She accused.

“Out with it.”

Emma sighed. “He’s just some guy I keep running into. That’s all.” Emma put on her shawl and headed to the door, effectively ending the conversation.

“Ok keep your secrets.” She said with her eyes narrowed, joining her in the hall as they headed to the dining hall.

Their dinner passed by quickly, the saying was true that time would fly when you were having fun, as Emma was starting to enjoy sitting down to eat with her friends every evening. Even the newcomers were starting to fit in with everyone. Will and Belle had warmed up to each other. They were sitting quietly at the end of the table, Will trying to demonstrate how to flip a bottle without dropping it. Belle would giggle and follow his every move and he would reward her with a new blush to his cheeks.

Her brother and Mary Margaret had become inseparable, however the small kiss he gave her after dinner was a new development. August left dinner early stating that he needed to head back to the infirmary for a checkup on his ankle, though Emma was sure the visit was more to do with the cute blonde nurse than his ankle.

After dinner, the remaining group decided to relocate to the piano bar on the deck above them for a night cap. The music was enjoyable, and the bar wasn’t crowed which allowed them to spread out into different areas of the room.

“I think he likes you.” Emma set her drink down and looked over at her brother who was sitting beside her.

“Who?” David looked toward the bar and she spotted Graham looking in her direction. “Oh, he’s nice. I guess.”

“You guess? Emma, he’s a really nice guy. Did you know he’s a Sheriff in the town that Mary Margaret and Belle are from?”

“Small world.” She said softly, taking a sip of her drink and peering around the bar.

“Waiting for something better?” He questioned.

“Why would I be waiting for anything? I already told all of you that I’m not interested in finding anything here.”

“Emma, it’s been 7 years since Neal ran off, don’t you think it’s time you stop punishing yourself and think about what might be out there for you and Henry?”

“Punishing myself?” Her annoyance was rising.

“That’s not what I meant. Not really, I mean, not exactly. I just feel like you punish yourself for Neal leaving. It wasn’t your fault. You deserve to be happy, sis.”

“I love you Dave, I do. And I’m really happy that you seem to have found something on this ship that you are interested in, but please, let me handle my own happiness.”

“Alright, I’ll back off.” He said with a grin.

He went back to his date and Ruby slid up beside her. “Is he trying to get you to sleep with Graham, because if he is, do you want company?”

“Ruby!” She exclaimed, “how much have you had to drink?”

“Enough that I would take him right there on the bar.”

“Dare.” Emma smirked at her, knowing that Ruby never backed down from a dare.

Ruby’s mouth went from wide open to a firm line of determination, getting up from her seat and sauntering over to the bar. Emma looked around at all her friends, each of them distracted with other people and she took the moment to sneak out without notice.

She found herself wandering the lido deck in the dark, her drink from the bar still in her hand as she sipped it through the straw with the tiny umbrella attached. She told herself she wasn’t looking for him but that didn’t stop the disappointment she felt when she didn’t find him either.

~*~

“Everything is under control, Captain. You don’t have to stay up here if you would like to rest.”

“Thank you, Smee. I guess I just wasn’t ready to head to my quarters.” He stared out at the deck of the ship below him, there was a small group of passengers wandering her planks. A wave of blonde hair caught his attention, her hips swaying back and forth in the night breeze. “On second thought, I think I’m going to retire for the evening.”

Perhaps now was as good a time as any to confess to her who he was. He bounded down the stairs and shoved open the doors to the Lido deck. He headed in the direction she was last seen, but the deck was empty. Disappointed, he realized she may have already gone back inside.

“Captain Jones.”

He spun around to see her standing against the wall of the ship. “Ah, I guess I’m busted.” He said with a sigh. “Let me guess, Lady Bell clued you in? I swear to you I was going to tell you on the beach today.” He said honestly. “But then…”

“Then August’s old man body turned to wood and he required medical assistance.” She joked.

“Yes, that. Forgive me for being less than honest?”

“Only if you tell me why you didn’t just tell me the first day.”

“That’s fair. My friend Robin pretty much convinced me to take this job, I was less than thrilled about the theme of this cruise, and well, I was just happy to talk to someone else who seemed to be forced to be here as well.”

She shook her head in understanding. “So, you’re really the Captain huh?” She walked closer to him, her fingers trailing the sleeve of his shirt as she traced the stripes on his arm.

“Aye.”

“I should have known when you rattled off all those facts about the ship. No one else would have paid that much attention.”

“Actually, you all should pay attention to that information.” His tone serious.

“Yes, Captain.” She smirked with a mock salute and he swallowed hard.

“I won’t put up with any sass on my watch.” He teased as they fell into step walking along the deck.

“So, how’d you become a Captain?”

“My brother convinced me to join the Navy when we were just lads, the sea became my mistress as soon as I met her. I was captivated by her tempestuous nature. On the surface she could be rough and demanding, but beneath the surface she’s calm and inviting.”

“So your brother is a Captain too?”

“He was, yes.” He paused, leaning on the rail for support. “He not with us anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“He was the best Captain to ever sail the seas. He’s out there somewhere.” He pointed to the horizon. “He’s a better man than I’ll ever be.”

“Well considering you are the Captain of the ship I currently find myself on, I hope you’re the best Captain we can ask for.”

“I wouldn’t even have had the chance to Captain such a vessel if not for my brother.” He looked over at her unsure of why he was suddenly freely sharing information he would rarely share with another.

“Did he teach you?”

“He taught me everything I know. How to be a good Captain, a good sailor, and a good man.”

“When did he pass?”

“Two years ago. We were at sea, on a mission, there was a fire, I was in the engine room when it exploded. We were taking on water and I needed to seal off the leak. I sent everyone out, I expected it to be the last good deed I ever did. But he found me, dragged me out of the pits of that ship and got me on the rescue boat.”

“Wow.” Emma was staring at him in a shocked silence.

“He went back in for the rest of his crew.”

“Because you don’t leave a man behind.” She said seemingly with a sudden understanding of their earlier conversation.

“Aye.” He nodded but didn’t continue.

“That must have been really tough.”

“One of the worst nights of my life.”

“Looks like you made the most of it though. Look at you now.” She smiled softly.

“Perhaps.”

“Wow, you’re worse than me with the martyr stuff.” She laughed and he wanted to crawl into the void where her laughter filled the air and stay there forever. “I think you should try being a little easier on yourself and trust me, coming from me, that says a lot.”

“I’ll take that under consideration.” He smiled and she glanced around.

“I should get back before my friends send out a search party.”

“We can’t have that on my ship.” He smirked.

“I’ll see you around, Captain.” She said as she walked back toward the door, turning back to offer him a shy smile before she disappeared into the belly of his ship.

Perhaps this cruise wasn’t the worst idea Robin ever had after all.

#TLC #The Love Cruise #stacy's fics #killian jones #emma swan #emma x killian #captain swan #captain swan au #captain swan fics #captain swan modern au

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caxsthetic · 4 years ago

Text

Nice Serve • Haikyuu x Reader • Series

Chapter 1 — Something that you wanted to have was a great bond between teammates, that someday would grow to be one big family.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *. NICE SERVE MASTERLIST .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Moving to a new school in the middle of the ongoing terms was weird. That was what you thought before you decided to walk away from your old school. A sound of volleyball spiked could be heard when you were near the gymnasium.

Before you opened the door, you made a silent wish that everything would turn out alright. The second you walked inside, luck decided to test you—a ball bounced hard to your direction. Something that somehow seems so familiar,

Wham!

You let out a sigh after you stopped the ball with your right hand. It was silence for a second before storms of questions and worried glance threw toward you. But one of the voice immediately perked your attention,

"BOKE! HINATA, BOKE!"

There in the background, your ex-teammates—that now you could be called as your new teammates—ran to catch someone with orange hair colour. It was such a pitiful sight actually, to see such a giant towering over him.

"Everyone give her some space!" Ukai Keishin, the coach, shouted to your direction so the boys would stop bombarding you with questions. You gave them a low bow and a smile, making some of them blushed.

You walked to stand beside Ukai and Kiyoko, the chief manager from the boy's volleyball team. The tablet in your hand clenched tightly to your left side while you fixed your posture and showed your professional profile.

"Gather around for a minute! I want to introduce someone!" A tall guy with blonde hair stood right in front of you. What you noticed from him was how he tried to intimidate the hell out of you. Knowing that, you gave him a dead stare.

Don't mess around with me, you lamppost. It was like your eyes could emit the unspoken words as he darted your eyes to the wall all of a sudden—you smiled. At least your gaze still worked.

"Oi! Kageyama, Hinata! Stop running around and make a line here!" Watching him brought you to some nostalgic feelings. He punched Hinata's arm until they stood on the line. His dark blue eyes widened a little when he spotted you.

"Alright, should I introduce you or will you introduce yourself?" Ukai turned to look at you, and you stepped one foot ahead. The coach understood your intention. Before you speak, you set out to take a look at the member one by one.

"My name is (L/n) (F/n) I am going to be Shimizu Kiyoko's partner from now on." You bowed to all of them, "I hope we could get along." You straightened your pose and smiled at them.

"OF COURSE WE CAN GET A-" "Another goddess!!!" "S-sorry they are kinda-"

You blinked, didn't know what you should do now after the encounter. The coach told them to introduce themselves, and you actually had written down their names and position. But knowing they saw you as a member warmed your heart.

The third years introduced themselves shyly while the second year seems to be enthusiastic when they tell you their names. You could only chuckle at their antics. Now, your eyes darted to the first year.

You smiled differently when Kageyama introduced himself in front of you. After that, Ukai told them to be back to their practice. Everyone came back to the court except your middle school friend.

He walked towards you and just stood there, leaving one man's gap between the two of you. At this point, you tried hard to keep your professional composure.

But hell, you couldn't resist the urge to do it.

"TOBIO-CHAAANNN!!!" You squealed and jumped to his figure. Both of your hands were hooked to his neck, and he didn't expect you to do it in mere seconds after he walked up to you.

Careful so the tablet in your left hand wouldn't get intact, both of you fell to the ground since he didn't prepare for your outburst. Some things weren't changed even after months of never seeing each other.

"(Y/n), not cool." He said it with a stern look, but he put his hand on your waist nevertheless.

"E-eh?! Does Kageyama acquainted with the new goddess?!" Nishinoya shouted, and you immediately stood up, followed by Kageyama.

"Well, I went to the same middle school as him, so..."

"WHAT?!" "Whoa, Kitagawa Daiichi, huh?" "So you must know the Grand King too?"

You could feel Kageyama twitch his eyes flickered his gaze towards you, trying to see your reaction. Your hands immediately patted his back, didn't care for the sweat that covered his clothes.

"Of course, I know Tooru." You smiled mysteriously at the memories that lingered on your mind for a second, "I've become their manager for three years after all."

"Wait—" Sugawara, the setter of Karasuno Volleyball Club walked up to you, "Then, you are the famous Goddess of Support, right?" You blushed at the nickname and nodded.

"So that's why you seem familiar." The captain turned to look at his grey-haired friend, "Sugawara is a fan of yours."

"R-really?"

"Daichi you couldn't just say it out of the blue like that!"

"Please go back to the practice everyone!" You bowed and set back to your professional profile, "I need to take a closer look for your everyday habits since I wanted to know what's best for all of you."

"Yoshhh!"

You walked around and asked them one by one about what they eat every day and what time they usually felt tired. Kageyama stats were mostly the same. His addiction for milk was still uncanny.

After you collected the data from everyone, Shimizu asked you what you were going to do with all of the answers from the players.

"Oh, I need to know what food could boost their stamina since it was different for everyone." You closed your tablet and turned your head to look at the court.

Each of the players had their own personalities and uniqueness. The passion in their eyes burns every time they serve, spike, block, and everything related to their game.

You smiled at this since it will be a long journey ahead. Moving to Karasuno was the best choice you could ever make. They completed each other and worked not just as a team, but also a family.

»»————-　♔　————-««

It was late right now, and everyone practised hard after losing from Aoba Johsai in the Inter High tournament. You were happy to know that the third years will participate in the next Spring Tournament.

You grabbed your backpack after you cleaned up the gymnasium with Shimizu. The first day of becoming Karasuno manager went smoothly. Not even once they asked what were you doing moving to a new school in the middle of terms, and you were glad for that—you were not ready to tell them.

Bzzt! Bzzt!

Your phone that you kept in your pocket vibrates, you decided to peek into it for a second. Only to see your old teammates messaged you, and he was one of the people you couldn't bear the most to say goodbye to.

Are you happy there? It was from him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ༶• ┈┈ ⛧ ┈ ♛ ♛ ┈ ⛧ ┈┈ •༶ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tagged Fanfiction:

@muffins-puffins @nanashinanashi @vlovers-world @kashika @blacckdiamondposts @muffngw @baby-boy-taichi @for-ests @giyuwu-san @mochi-poof @miyatsunami @iwaixiumi @hihiq @the-fandom-ness @quirksandbreaths @rintarhoe @verbluehte @simp4tsukkii @ladyalicevii @evermorehaikyuu @clowninfortodoroki @koutaroulovebot @daiseukis @fitriiaw @mistypoison @aquariarose @gyubit17 @aristatrois @akaritheyeetus @akaaaashit @pocket-puddingg

#kageyama tobio imagine #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru imagine #oikawa tooru #kuroo tetsurou imagine #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu

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liyuesbian · 3 years ago

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AAAA kokomi quest time :>

same here I thought it was a pretty solid quest overall!! agree that the first half was kinda eh because she just felt too Nice about everything, a little too willing to help people instead of saying "i have some stuff to prepare and am not available rn" (when the Watatsumi citizens were crowding around Traveler and her, I had flashbacks to Barbara's hangout event rip). but the second half got better thankfully. I think even though there's no morally gray kokomi, they still gave her character some flair that's different from before? like you said, the thing where she's forced by heritage to be the divine priestess but doesn't actually want to; i quite liked that, since although she's emotionally drained from her job, she's not like Jean or other characters that sacrifice themselves because they truly like their job and want to help people in that way. kokomi helps people out of obligation and would much rather be doing military strategizing and i love that for her. I want her to be a bit more selfish too, even if it's not in a villainous kind of way; perhaps a scenario where she pulls a xingqiu and just becomes a military strategist/general instead of the job she inherited (actually her and xq would be really interesting together, even if xingqiu doesn't reveal that he's the legend of sword author lol). somehow she gives me only child vibes hahsdjfs

agree!! when she said "it would be so nice if all my work could do itself" I Felt that :') her moments of childishness are very endearing 😌

YEAH the war was finally addressed in some capacity and the Not All Is Well mood, especially the mixed opinions in Watatsumi among both civilians and the soldiers. also agree that the npc opinions were very good and it's nice that some of them are dissatisfied for different reasons, like that old woman you mentioned talking about Watatsumi's god vs the soldier's grievances against the Tenryou Commission! It's not just quietly resolved and that's way better than how the ei quest went hsdfjs. I also loved kokomi's and sara's scene hsdjfsd I was surprised but thankful they actually showed them negotiating the treaty terms instead of just doing a cutscene and illustrating that kokomi (and sara) are good diplomats and know their stuff. they need to put their brains on display more. the quest is also warming me up to kokosara lol

it's fine villain kokomi lives on in our hearts (or in aus lmao)

also expand on kokomi and hu tao? o-o they sound interesting

-mystic

OH YEAH i forgot about barbara's hangout event !

mhm my thoughts exactly. omg i never thought about that.. her and xingqiu would make such great friends! the indirect interaction through his book ties everything together well too :O i'm thinking the whole author-book lover dynamic ajiodfsfiadjn kokomi gushing over her favourite author, [xingqiu's pseudonym]. OR maybe a modern au where kkm is xq's editor?! OR her as a super fan and beta reader?! honestly, kkm and xq are one of my favourite characters so far and it'd rly make me happy to see them interacting 😭 OH did u happen to see this fanart of the hydro gang in a book club? (while i was trying to find the link to the post, i also found this gem! AHHH they're both so cute!)

they rly are!

yep yep haha O I FORGOT 2 TALK ABT THAT KOKOSARA MOMENT !!! i agree, that scene showed us all that kkm is very much capable in doing her job despite it not being her first choice in career.

yes (!!! hmm this is giving me ideas for kokosara angst hc.. after the negotiations are over and peace has somewhat returned between both sides, kkm stabs them in the back, sara hurt by the betrayal and kkm seemingly cold-hearted and stern-faced, unaffected by the situation saying it was all necessary as the divine priestess, the current heiress of sanganomiya, to carry out the will of her ancestors and to sustain the protection of her people in watatsumi but deep down she knows she doesn't want to do this (the same canon wanting to stray away from her lineage). either way, it is too late now. the destruction of the shogun's govt and her vision of eternity was always meant to happen in due time.)

as for kokotao, i think what initially attracted me to their ship is similar to what first drew me to kokosara...

right off the bat, their clashing visuals/aesthetics HAHAHA

hu tao would totally be down to read kkm books as she falls asleep, kkm would do the same too! (if she can get ht to sleep that is lol)

their clashing personalities and way of thinking, ht's chaotic mindset and kkm's well-planned and tactician-like abilities... even their food preferences differ too! (god, reading their voice lines for kkm's least/ht's fave food srsly makes me think they were made for each other)

i think in a modern au (and in genshin too i guess), they'd be great "business" partners. as in, they kind of make up for what the other lacks (in both a domestic and working way) - kkm's strategic skills could be used to bring more customers in for hu tao and hu tao would be able to deal with the social side of kkm's job (just thinking about it makes me swoon, they'd be so in love)

let's be real here, i think kkm would be p easy to tease and ht would have tons of fun pranking her and telling her jokes etc.

in a gameplay perspective, ht loses hp and kkm is a healer !! (aww only true gfs fight alongside each other)

in the same way hydro puts out pyro, kkm can reign ht in when it get's a little too much (but not in a way where she's stopping ht from being who she is if ygm) and vice versa for ht being able to "give" kkm a bit of her own energy

I THINK THEY'D MAKE A FORMIDABLE DUO WHEN PLAYING FPS GAMES (AND LASER TAG/PAINTBALL TOO)

there's probably a lot more but those are my reasons for now haha

#oh no this was kinda long...#AIUSASAJSC why does it #look like i RAMBLED about kokotao :OOO #anyways.........#phi rambles #answered

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kyndaris · 4 years ago

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Braving Tried and True JRPG Tropes

When Bravely Default II was released, one of the first reviews I stumbled upon spoke about the person’s disappointment. Some of it came down to personal taste: the art style. Others were a bit more valid: the weak narrative and carbon copies of protagonists from other games. While the fan in me wanted to contest many of their claims, the more I played of the latest Japanese role-playing game (JRPG) from Square-Enix, I could not deny that there was a lot of tropes being used to prop up the strong gameplay loop and to give players the chance to try out the different jobs on offer. Still, many of these grips failed to deter me too much from my playing of the game. After sinking a hefty amount of time into it, I was able to push my way through the multiple endings and give Seth, Gloria, Elvis and Adelle the happy ending that they deserved.

As the faithful readers of my blog, you should know that I bought Bravely Default II while on a road trip with family. Though I should have been luxuriating in the February sun, I was much too engrossed in my Nintendo Switch to pay much mind to my surroundings. And even if Zac Efron or Chris Hemsworth had walked past, I’d probably barely bat an eyelid.

The first few hours of Bravely Default II had me busy reengaging with the mechanics that I knew from the first two games on the Nintendo DS and Octopath Traveler. Considering my familiarity with old-school JRPGs, it came as no surprise that I quickly managed to level up Freelancer as I cut a swathe through the grass surrounding the starting city of Halyconia. In fact, I realised quite quickly that the best way to get good items without paying a cent for them was to play the game like Link, eager to find rupees in the bushes. By the time I fought Dag and Selene and Horten, they went down like flies even though I hadn’t even bothered to change from my default jobs.

Truth be told, when I read about the difficulties many people supposedly had with these earlier battles, I was scratching my head. Perhaps it was simply the method I play the games - grinding out each job to my satisfaction that had simplified what should have been difficult. On a side note, I thought that the job levelling was much better balanced than Yakuza: Like a Dragon and an infinitely more fun experience because of it. It allowed me to experiment with my team and find the best balance for taking on the various mobs in a given area.

The only time I actually prepared properly for a fight was when I took down Adam and the last few bosses. But even they were a considerable breeze when one had access to so many abilities. Paralysing everyone that stood in my way, inflicting poison and contagion, then having a maxed out Freelancer with Thief skills using Godspeed Strike? Child’s play.

Now, onto the weaker elements of Bravely Default II. The various plot-holes and unexplored characterisation of the heroes and villains. While Elvis and Lonsdale stood out to me, many of the others could have been interchanged with someone else and I would have barely been able to tell the difference were it not for their individual Asterisk attire.

Let’s start with Seth, shall we? Our main protagonist despite the ensemble set-up could have been ripped from any Japanese role-playing game. The ones he reminded me strongly of were Tidus and Vaan. Tidus, because he was a fish-out-of-water that had fallen in love with the woman that would have to sacrifice her life to bring peace back to the world. Vaan due to the fact that he never truly stood out and was simply part of the story just because of Wind Crystal shenanigans. Later on, he was made a bit more special due to his status as someone that had come from the Outer Seas.

In a way, it was a clever voice direction for Seth to be the only character with an American accent. This helped paint the fact that he was different from the others. Still, it would have been much better if we could have seen what his life had been like prior to the events that brought him to waking up on a beach in Halyconia. And while there are scenes in several sidequests that explore a little of Seth’s backstory, there’s little to sink one’s teeth into.

Gloria, on the other hand, is very much a stereotypical princess of a mystical kingdom. Though the voice actress is very good at expressing the pain she has gone through as one of the sole survivors of Musa’s destruction, I feel like it would have connected better with players to have seen the invasion and perhaps played a small part in controlling her escape. Though these things are just little nitpicks, it adds to the characters and allows people to emotionally invest in the happenings of the world.

That, in and of itself, is probably Bravely Default II’s key problem. The fact that it tells rather than shows.

Elvis, of course, is the star of the show. His quirky traits, affable nature make him a clear favourite and much more human than his other counterparts. The narrative around Wiswald was also great example of fleshing out his past and the people he knows. It is much more personal, pulling on our heartstrings to learn about the death of a young child, and thus carries more weight than the water shortage in Savalon or the fairy hunting in Rimedhal, which was clearly meant to mirror witch trials.

While Folie, the main antagonist behind the happenings in Wiswald, could have been better written and with a more tangible tie to the people of Wiswald, the fact that she manipulated Roddy, Lily and poor Galahad with visions of the dead Mona meant that a bit of pathos was achieved when she was finally brought down.

Adelle, a little cliche, was still an intriguing character that rounded out the team (I still can’t place her accent). The reveal that she was actually a fairy was a delight. It was also nice that her goals also aligned with the main narrative of stopping the Night’s Nexus, instead of being as superfluous as Elvis trying to solve the riddle of a book he had in his possession or Seth just tagging along for the ride.

As for the foes that we faced? Most of them seemed like excuses to dress up how players obtained their Asterisks. Many of them seemed like caricatures. And honestly, Martha’s excuse to fight the Heroes of Light was abysmal. But, of course, the developers needed a way for players to experience what it might be like fighting a foe that had the Dragoon Asterisk before they could use it for their own.

I will admit, the story just felt like a vehicle to pick up each Asterisk along the way. Oft times, I had to wonder why so many of these people felt compelled to stand in the way of the Heroes of Light. And while it would have been much better to have a more personal reason for why we fought these enemies besides the fact that ‘Oh, they have an Asterisk and something, something Crystal!’ I still managed to push my way through.

Still, the fact that Dag and Selene managed to snag more character development in the sidequests was great. Gladys’s attempt at atonement and her brother’s grief was also good ways to delve into topics that might have been a little too dark for a title that had such gorgeous backdrops and adorable character models.

Now, to the meat of the matter. The plot holes and the things that were never truly explained. Edna’s descent into madness though Adelle often insisted her sister had always loved humans. How and where Lady Emma found the book that actually contained the memories of the Night’s Nexus? Where does Seth actually come from? How did he die? Why was he chosen by the Wind Crystal? Why was Adam so invested in trying to conquer the world? Did he experience something bad in his past that informed his current need to stop war by starting it? Where did Folie come from? Who is she and why did she feel the need to torment the people of Wiswald for her art?

So many mysteries. So little explanation.

Overall, Bravely Default II has quite a few flaws and missteps. Yet, despite that, it’s a sum greater than its parts. The narrative might not have been captivating, but it managed to keep pulling me through until I saw the true ending. Anticlimactic as the final boss battle might have been, I still felt a certain satisfaction in seeing Gloria tackle Seth to the ground. And honestly, who doesn’t want to Godspeed Strike their way to victory?

P.S. I will say that after witnessing Adelle save Martha, I had hoped for a blossoming romance, but the dialogue between her and Elvis during the second bad ending got to me. It may not be my one true pairing, but Elvis x Adelle was an arrow to my heart. My only question is: how old is Adelle? She looks like a child and yet, because she’s a fairy, she could be like a century older. Maybe better not to think too hard, eh? After all, why sweat the details?

#bravely default II #video games

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