#and then he takes it and climbs into my lap and starts mashing away | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

klausysworld · 9 months

Note

Hi love how are you :)) , I wanted to ask if you could make someone where reader and klaus Have a child , and she’s like 3 maybe ? Let’s make it so readers cook and mashed THE BEST PIE, so one day she makes a family dinner for the 3 of them, and her daughter/son slowly steal all of klaus’s food Untill her barely has anything left, and klaus hates all pouty and is genuinely upset, but can’t say anything because if he does then he’s sure you’ll blast him. So the kid is super cute and all, but makes faces to klaus when you aren’t looking 😭 that would be so cute. Later when you put your child to sleep, he read him story’s and give him lots of love, with cuddles. And again klaus gets really jealous, so when the child go’s to bed, klaus tells reader with a pout and puppy dog eyes on his face, how you love the child more then him. Which leads to some fluff and comforting. Sorry if it’s too much I totally understand if you can’t write this

Lots of love

Yours truly- Kirb :))

Loving both equally

I smiled as I watched Klaus and our son Henry sit at the table. I was just pulling the steak pie from the oven, plating it up with some mash a veg. Klaus had wanted roast potatoes but Henry was only three and preferred mash so Nik eventually caved when our son began to get upset.

Henry was a sensitive little boy and a little clingy but I found it sweet that he was such a mama’s boy. Recently he had been especially needy as the mention of starting school soon was brought up commonly. He would get upset and refuse to entertain the idea and instead wind up with a new toy and extra cuddle time.

“Momma I’m hungry” Henry’s small voice called from the table to which Klaus told him to be patient making me smile a little wider.

“It’s okay, it’s ready now” I told them while bringing both there plates over. I went back and got my own plate before sitting beside Henry and opposite Nik.

“Thank you sweetheart” Klaus lifted my hand and kissed the back of it making me smile wider.

A second later Henry was tugging my other and kissing the back of it as well making me laugh and Klaus to roll his eyes.

Henry eats his food quickly, sitting quietly at in his seat. Klaus and I kept up small conversation as we ate, I could hear Klaus fussing and glanced up from my plate to see Henry stealing a piece of the meat from his pie. Klaus frowned and was whispering to Henry and I sighed

“Nik just let him have a bit, if he’s still hungry then he needs to eat. I can give you some more later, there was some left over” I mumbled and he huffed

“He needs to learn to not steal-“

“It’s not really stealing” I muttered and he growled lowly, clearly getting more frustrated as Henry started scooping some of his mash onto his fork. I gave Klaus a look at the growl and his nostrils flared as he begrudgingly leaned back. “Klaus-“

“No. It’s fine.” He grumbled and I pressed my hand to my face.

“Henry baby, come here” I summoned and he quickly climbed down from his chair and came to mine. I pulled him up onto my lap and let him eat from my plate instead. Klaus’s jaw clenched but he didn’t say anything else as he kept eating his food. I stroked my fingers through our sons hair as he finished the food. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Klaus sticking his tongue out at Henry making me raise a brow. Eventually he looked back at me and his face dropped, he cleared his throat and stood up, grabbing all three empty plates.

“I’ll wash up” he mumbled and kissed my head making me grab his shirt and pull him down to kiss his lips before smiling and getting up, lifting Henry onto my hip.

“I’m gonna take him up and get him ready and then we can spend some time together okay?” I ran my hand down his arm and his expression brightened

“Alone?” He ginned and I hummed

“Alone.” I confirmed as I headed for the stairs. I could hear him chuckle as I got further away.

Henry laughed and squealed as I spun him round before dropping him onto his back on his bed. He smiled, and made grabby hands making me sit beside him and pull him back into my lap. His big blue eyes looked up at me and his bottom tuck out a little and he pouted.

“Is daddy mad at me?” He whispered and I shook my head.

“Of course not baby, daddy just gets stressed out sometimes because of…work…” I told him and he sniffled making his little nose twitch. I pet his curls softly “no sweetie, don’t be sad. Daddy doesn’t want you to be sad, we both love you so much” I told him and his lip wobbled

“Daddy doesn’t love me as much you do” he whispered and I frowned

“No no…” I muttered, my eyes widened “daddy loves you, he loved you more than anything in the world” I told him “when you were born he was so happy, he’s so proud of you” I smiled and kissed his head gently

“You promise?” He whispered and I nodded

“I promise you honey, both everyone in this family adores you. And you that when you go to school…everyone’s gonna love you too…” I mentioned and he pouted some more but reluctantly nodded. “Now…how about we read a story and go to sleep?” I offered and he smiled, rushing over to his book shelf that his uncle Elijah built for him.

He jumped up onto the bed and buried under the blankets making me chuckle and lay down beside him.

We read the book half an half, if read a page and then he would and any words he struggled with I would help explain. Henry was keen to learn which is why we thought he would be excited for school but he didn’t want to leave home and begged to be homeschooled but Klaus instantly disagreed and protested saying that he needed to socialise and make friends which I had to agree with because for once he wasn’t wrong.

I smiled as his words came out clear and relatively well pronounced before a knocking at the door sounded and Klaus stood in only his plaid pants, leaning against the door frame

“Almost asleep?” He asked and I glanced to the book

“Uh yeah..almost, I’ll be in soon” I told him and he cleared his throat with a nod before disappearing.

I didn’t mean to take so long after that but Henry ended up wanting another story and then he wouldn’t go to sleep unless I was holding him close and then I accidentally fell asleep as well. By the time I woke up it was late and all the lights were out, the covers were pulled up over both Henry and I which meant Klaus must’ve done so to keep us warm.

I quietly slipped out and went into our room. Klaus was lead on his side of the bed and facing the wall.

“Nik?” I whispered but he didn’t respond so I assumed he was asleep and so silently got changed into one of his shirts and carefully got in bed beside him. I made my way closer to the middle of the bed so I was closer to him and his body heat. I kissed the back of his shoulder and I heard him let out a breath. “You awake?” I whispered and he hummed. He rolled over to face me though he didn’t look very happy as his eyes found mine. “I’m sorry” I uttered, I wasn’t sure how to make him happier. I knew that I spent almost all of my time on Henry and it meant we didn’t have any time together.

“It’s fine” he mumbled and I frowned

“You know I love you” I murmured, kissing his cheek but he didn’t respond making me sigh “klaus…he’s a baby”

“He’s not a baby anymore” he grumbled “so stop babying him”

He shifted to sit up and I pushed myself up too.

“He’s a baby to me” I whispered and he groaned “seriously klaus-“

“Oh don’t do that” he huffed and I hit the back of my head against the headboard lightly out of frustration. “You spend every second with him and leave me with nothing. I have gone without you for three years because you love him more than you could ever love me” he ranted and my expression softened

“You think I love him more than I love you?” I questioned and he gave me a look

“I know so” he whispered and I shook my head

“Nik…no” I mumbled and he looked away to the wall. I shuffled over and lifted my hand to his cheek making him look back to me. “You know why love Henry so much?” I asked softly and he kept quiet

“I love him because he’s just like you. He’s everything I love about you. He loves to read and he likes to draw, he loves nature and my food just like you do.” I began while tracing small circles against his skin “he looks just like you, you know that?” I whispered and he tilted his head slightly. I nodded as I spoke quietly “big blue eyes, pretty curls on his head and those pink pouty lips” I teased and his tongue darted to wet his lips as his cheeks reddened. “He’s got the same curve at the end of the nose” I whispered while bringing my fingers to trace his features gently. “The only difference between the two of you is that he’s home 24/7. And when I miss you…I look for you in him.” I finished and he sniffed a little with a small nod before our lips pressed together gently a few times and our foreheads rest against one another’s.

“I miss you too when I’m not home…but I don’t have a little you to spend time with and then when I do get to see you, we’ll I don’t really get to be with you” he mumbled

“I know…I’m sorry…it’s only a couple months until Henry’s four and then he can get into school and I’ll be with you all day” I convinced and he sighed

“But as soon as he walks back in-“

“Then we can both be with him” I whispered “we’ll both give him hugs and kisses and he can come into your art room and we can read him stories together”

“He doesn’t want me, he just wants you” he frowned

“That’s just because he thinks you don’t love him” I accidentally told him and my eyes widened and is brows pulled together further.

“He what?” Klaus quickly shoved the covers off and started getting up

“Nik, Nik! told him you love him, he knows you love him!” I whisper yelled and he grabbed a shirt putting it on

“Im not having my son think that I don’t love him” he growled and I shook my head

“No no no…no he doesn’t, I promised him that you were just stressed with work and that you’re proud of him and that you love him very much. I shouldn’t have said that he doesn’t believe it, I’m sorry” I cupped his face gently and he breathed shallowly

“My son thinks I don’t…he thinks…” his eyes teared up and I swiped my thumbs under them to keep any tears away. Klaus was always had the fear of becoming anything like Mikael. From the second we found out we were having a boy, he was terrified and unfortunately it’s caused him to pull away which was exactly what he didn’t want to do but I didn’t want him to feel bad for it. He only meant good.

I wrapped my arms around him and felt his nose in my hair. “It’s okay” I whispered. He held onto my hand and pulled me to Henry’s room. I stood by the door as he let go of me and slipped his arms under our son, carrying him to our room and laying down with Henry in the middle. I got in opposite and smiled. Our fingers linked toward and he smiled softly, his nose a little pinker from sniffing back tears.

“I love you both” Klaus murmured, wrapping an arm round Henry.

“I love you too” I whispered “and Henry loves you so much” I told him and he nodded

“We’ll all go out tomorrow, buy some colouring pencils” he offered and I smiled. “Then maybe tomorrow we’ll put him to bed together, a little earlier and we can have some time?”

“Or we ask Rebekah to take care of him for an hour or so?” I suggested but his grin only widened

“I think I’ll need the whole night rather than just an hour” he chuckled and I rolled my eyes.

“Mmm why aren’t I surprised” I laughed and he lifted my hand to kiss the back of it.

“I love you” he uttered as his lashes fluttered and I smiled

“I love you too, goodnight Nik” I whispered

“Goodnight my loves”

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mmvalentine · 1 year

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Your Name Around my Neck | Jurdan

I UMMMMM found this somewhat bloody fic in my drafts holy shit i forgot that past me wrote this I am...in need of help anyway indulge with me in this madness if you like

We get in late tonight; the revel is still going but I’ve been on the throne three years now and I’m finally feeling like I can leave when I want to. After a lifetime of wearing through my shoes just to prove I can keep up with the fae, it is a pleasure to simply stand and sweep out of the room when I tire of the event. And of course Cardan trails after me more often than not, not because he’s tired too but because he hates everyone.

Our bedroom door snicks shut behind us and the music is immediately muffled. I start stripping off as I walk through the room, discarding shoes and gloves and jewellery before sitting down at my vanity to remove my make up. Cardan has not bothered. He’s slumped over the bed fully clothed as is toying with something he’s pulled from his pocket while I swipe at my face.

“Well I thought that went well,” Cardan comments.

We hosted the Court of Termites tonight, and got through almost four courses before Nicasia made a snide remark and Kaye threw a fistful of mashed potatoes in her face. It always amuses me that Kaye is perhaps my opposite- while I have honed my court sensibilities in efforts to make up for my being human, Kaye is fae girl who has all the thoughtlessness of a mortal. Perhaps I’m just jealous that I don’t have the luxury.

After the flung potatoes, the evening devolved quickly. Lord Roiben ushered a shouting, fist-shaking Kaye away but many of his court stayed on to drink and dance and smear food over each other, and I lost interest not long after that.

“I don’t know about ‘well’ but it was certainly entertaining,” I concede, and tilt my chin up at the mirror. “Fuck’s sake Cardan, have these been here all night?!”

I peer at my reflection, and staring back at me are four long bruises down the side of my neck. I turn my head and find the thumb mark on the other side.

My husband smirks from the bed.

“Ashamed of my handiwork, Jude?”

“They weren’t this bad when I got dressed I’m sure…”

“They usually take a few hours to settle in, I’ve noticed.”

I scowl. “You needn’t sound so pleased with yourself, you know.”

Cardan rolls his eyes. “What do you care, you liked getting choked while we’re-”

I throw a brush at his head before he can finish the sentence.

“Prick,” I say.

“Prude,” he returns.

But it’s not that I’m afraid of what people will think of my sex life. The fae are anything but shy when it comes to amorous oddities. No, it’s that I’m the Queen now and I can’t bear to have them think of me bested.

Held down and strangled. At the mercy of a another.

Submissive.

I shake my hair out and throw down the last of the pins before climbing into bed. There are some parts of myself that Cardan might know, but that I’m not willing to share with the court.

“If you’re that self-conscious, I have something that could cover the bruises,” Cardan says. And then lifts aloft the object in his fingers. I look and I am horrified.

“Is that a collar?!” I stutter.

Cardan turns it over in his hands and the little silver buckles tinkle like bells.

“It would hide your neck,” he replies, looking at the leather as he speaks.

“The problem isn’t my neck, the problem is the mad things I let you do to me,” I mutter. I think I’m blushing at just the idea of walking into a public space like wearing that thing.

Suddenly I’m yanked backwards. Cardan’s got his hand under my hair and when my head falls into his lap, he leans over me and stares hard like he’s studying the bruise patterns of his own fingers.

“I like the mad things you let me do to you,” he murmurs, and his voice has dropped to that place that loosens my grasp on how much I need to be in control. His cool fingers slide down the front of my nightshirt, as if to demonstrate his freedom to touch me. “I like people knowing you’re mine.”

Cardan’s thumb brushes over my nipple and it peaks readily for him. I close my eyes, and he squeezes my breast slowly in his hand. His other hand is still in my hair, and he makes a fist and uses it to tilt my head back.

“Still not wearing the collar,” I gasp. Cardan cocks his head, and flourishes my own knife between his fingers.

“I could carve my name into you instead,” he says, and I swear his canines get sharper in the candle light. The sweet, heavy feeling evaporates.

I twist fast, surprising him so he lets go of my hair, and pluck my knife out of his hand. I push him back by the chest so that it’s me straddling him now, and the anger feels fortifying.

“Are you not mine also, beloved?” I hiss. My dagger rests under his chin, and the metal glints down the length of it.

I hate my knives being stolen. I’ve cut off fingers for less, and so far Cardan is the only one who’s successfully lifted them off my person without my noticing. Worse still when I know his nails are sharp enough that he doesn’t need them. I haven’t told him how much it bothers me because I think that would just make him do it more often.

The King just blinks dreamily up at me.

“I wouldn’t mind,” he says, and bares his throat to me.

I slice the top two buttons off his shirt and pull the fabric back. The marble of his chest is so smooth, so unmarked, and suddenly I’m sorely tempted.

“Don’t tease a girl,” I tell him, and press the point of the knife just below his collar bone. Cardan only pulls his shirt further open for me, and how can I describe the rush of feeling I get when he pours himself at my feet like this?

Back and forth we go, me and Cardan. The Queen and the King. Power like a golden ball tossed between us, so fast it spins my head sometimes. It’s not so much who rules today but who rules in this hour? In this minute? In this moment?

I flick my knife and a second later, the letter J wells up scarlet at the base of my lover’s throat.

Cardan’s eyes gleam but he doesn’t make a sound. I am filled with a savage satisfaction, and when Cardan sits up to meet me I crush my mouth against his. The kiss is biting and harsh, and I slice my lower lip on his teeth but only press closer to him. When I finally pull back, we have blood smeared on our chins. I wipe my sleeve over Cardan’s mouth but he just leans forward and licks my chin roughly like a cat and I shiver. We walk either side of being human, him and I, and sometimes I look down at my feet and I can’t remember which side I’m on and it thrills me.

“Wear my collar Jude,” he says, and it’s a growl in his throat when he says it. He holds the leather between us and the J sends a single red drop down his chest.

I take the thing and buckle it around my neck while Cardan watches. It’s got a small silver ring in the front and in the curve of the ring is his name. His eyes glaze over as my hands come down, and his gaze has not left my neck.

“Now that’s a good girl,” he says, and then hooks two fingers into the ring on the collar and uses it to yank me back into him. I thud against his chest and he lifts my hips to settle me properly in his lap, while my hands flutter about his shoulders. I grit my teeth, misliking losing my balance, but as soon as I get settled Cardan rocks the hard length of himself into me and I'm off kitler again. His tail wraps tightly around the smallest part of my waist and steadies me.

Not to be outdone, I shove my hands into the black curls at the back of Cardan's head and grind down in his lap. The knife is still in my fist. Cardan gasps a little and his hips buck under me, responding automatically even as his eyes roll and his fingers twitch in the ring on my collar. I pull his hair harder, letting my nails dig into his scalp, and he uses the ring to tug my mouth back to his.

The kiss suprises me with its tenderness. It's a strange thing; I'm held in place and bound about the throat, yet he kisses me with sugar in his mouth. His hand curls around the front of the collar so that it tightens painfully at my neck, but his tongue is lush and lazy. And his hips roll under me like a current thirty fathoms deep.

Cardan's free hand slides between us, moving my skirts up so the fabric is not between us. I take my dagger and cut the cords of his breeches, and if the tip nicks the pale skin of his stomach it's only a sharp inhale through his nose that gives him away. Cardan shoves at the front of the trousers while I keep slashing the buttons of his ridiculous shirt. The ruffles fall open and it strikes me that my initial is so red against all that white. And then Cardan's pushing inside me.

We both still for a moment, while my body makes room for him. Our breathing is mismatched and our eyes flicker while we stare at each other. His eyes are more black than the night.

"Jude," he murmurs.

I glance down again, and the tip of my knife hits his skin. I make a tiny dash, and Cardan doesn't flinch. I do it again, and complete the letter 'D.' Cardan looks down slowly.

"What does it say?" he asks, unable to see so close to his chin.

"J. D.," I tell him. He looks up sharply.

"J. D. G.," he corrects me.

I don't know what appalls me more, that he's asking for this or that I want to do it. I oblige him, and carve one more letter in his flesh. Cardan shudders this time, and then sinks the rest of the way into me. I finally drop the dagger, and wrap my arms around his neck.

"My vicious love," he whispers, and moves in me so sweetly I can barely stand it.

I cling to him, bury my face in his neck and cross my ankles behind his back. Cardan keeps the skin at my shoulder between his teeth and moves my hips in slow circles, and the way he holds violence in one hand and honey in the other makes him feel all at once a mirror and a balm.

"Cardan," I breathe. I try to move faster on him but he's holding me too tightly. "Cardan I need..."

"What, little villain?"

"Harder," I whisper.

"What was that?"

"Harder," I say again, and I watch his pupils blow out as he hears me.

"You want it harder?" he echoes, and as I begin to nod he punches his hips up so fast it makes my teeth clack together. He grips my hips and slams into me, and it hurts in the best way possible.

"More?" he asks, and before I can reply he does it again. "Answer me, Jude." I try, but the breath keeps getting knocked from my lungs. "Use your words, my darling. Is this what you like, hm?"

"Yes," I manage. It's a moan, it comes out strangled. "Yes, just like... oh." Cardan grins with too many teeth and all of a sudden stops moving and falls back onto the sheets.

"Ride me then," he says.

The sudden movement has me falling forward and my palms hit his chest. He hold my hips down, pushes them forward and back and I don't need the encouragement. He's so deep inside me I can feel him in my stomach and I lean forward so that I'm getting friction on my clit while I fuck him. My fingers dig into his muscles and smear the crimson letters under the hollow of his throat. Cardan lifts to meet me and his nails scratch angry lines down my thighs. He groans long and low, and the sound of it is the most obscene delicacy I want to never stop swallowing.

"You're so good," he tells me. "Who the fuck taught you to be this good?"

"My previous lover," I answer, and receive a sharp slap across my hip for the daring. I slap him back, hitting him in his left pectoral and faster than blinking I am flipped onto my back while Cardan's still inside me.

"Liar," he says, and holds me down as he takes control. His hand is so big that his thumb touches one of my ear lobes and the tip of his index finger covers the other, while the rest of his fingers curl around my throat. The collar actually prevents me from being choked too hard, but his weight has me pinned so that I can barely move. He keeps fucking me, faster now that he's on top, and my hands slide up his arms. He grabs a hold of my wrists with his other hand and holds them down too, and all I can do is dig my knees into his ribcage as he shifts into a hungry frenzy that's making it hard to draw breath.

"Cardan..." I whimper. It's such a pathetic sound I almost hate that I sound like this in bed. But my husband thinks differently.

"Say it again," he says hoarsely. I shake my head, and press my lips together. Cardan lets go of my throat and pushes his thumb into my mouth and onto my tongue. Hooks it behind my bottom teeth and tugs my mouth open.

"Say my name again."

He moves the thumb to my clit, and as soon as he touches me, the pleasure ratchets up unbearably.

But I am silent, and he shakes me by the neck so the buckle behind my collar rattles. My newly freed hands grip the headboard as he fucks me harder. His thumb keeps moving and I'm quickly losing control.

"Say my fucking name when you come."

"Cardan," I gasp. "Cardan, Cardan..."

"That's it honey," he croons. His pace is steady now and I'm so close. "Good girl. You can come now, little liar. Come with my name in your mouth."

And I break open, so obedient to the command of the King that perhaps I'd be embarrassed, if I hadn't decided that the King making me come this hard wasn't an act of service itself. As it is, my toes curl and my back arches and the bright heat of my climax sweeps through my fragile, mortal body. And Cardan has to wait for me to come first and that's delightful.

"Fuck Jude..." he moans.

And just as he begins to lose it I say, "Wait." For no other reason than my own amusement.

Cardan freezes, and then lets out a frustrated groan against my neck. I smile, count to five, and then relent.

"Okay, you can come."

Cardan growls and immediately resumes his mad rhythm, making me gasp at the blinding pace he sets. I'm oversensitised from having just come, and the second orgasm hits me moments before he's shuddering into me, snapping and snarling as I'm filled up.

I hold onto the lean muscle of his body and I can feel his racing pulse everywhere while he catches his breath. Fae heartbeats are quick and light, and it's like a hundred moths in the cavity of his chest.

When he rolls over, he pulls me with him, and I scrape my canines over his shoulder once he's collapsed onto his back. After a minute, his fingers come up and trace feathery patterns over my spine. He turns his head without opening his eyes, and presses his lips to my hair.

"Thank you, my sweet torment," he says.

"For what, husband?"

"For wearing my name around your neck."

I nuzzle into his side.

"I think I like it," I confess. The corner of his mouth curls, and he fingers the ring in my collar.

"I like it a lot," he tells me.

"And my name?" I ask him. "Do you like there on your chest?"

Cardan sighs.

"My dear nemesis," he says. "I've always had your name under my skin."

***

Oh shit it's been a hot minute, I posted this and then realised i forgot to do the master list tag list thing

JURDAN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreamss @feysand-loml @cityofbookishthings @story-scribbler @thebonecarverer @realbookloverproblemss @elessar-writings @euclavender

#tfota #jurdan #jurdan fic #judecardan

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joy-of-life88 · 1 year

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Lace & Leather [a Damian Priest story] 16 What are we?

Katja POV

With a large bag in my hand, I climbed the stairs and unlocked the door to my apartment. I had actually expected to find Damian in the living room, but to my surprise he wasn't there. And everything was very quiet. Not a sound was to be heard.

I went into the kitchen to quickly put away the groceries I had gotten for us. Then I went through the apartment in search of D. Since the apartment was not particularly large, it did not take long until I found what I was looking for. A big, wide smile spread across my face as I entered the nursery and saw Damian sitting in the rocking chair with Hazel in his arms. Both were fast asleep and didn't notice me at all.

Hazel had probably been hungry, even though it wasn't quite her time yet. Thankfully, Damian knew how to make a bottle for her. Even changing diapers was easier for him after a few days. Well, unless it is a stinky diaper, he preferred to leave that to me.

I pulled the phone out of my pocket to quickly take a few cute pictures of the two of them. It was so adorable how the two looked together. I only hoped that Damian's neck wouldn't hurt afterwards, as awkwardly as he sat there snoring softly.

For a few minutes I looked at my family. But then I decided to freshen up quickly before I started to make dinner. It wouldn't take long and Damian could take a nap with Hazel during that time.

After I had finished showering, I went into the kitchen and got out everything I needed for our meal. Still it was totally quiet in the apartment, so I decided to turn on music so that it played softly in the background while I started cooking.

I hummed softly to myself while I chopped the vegetables and made the mashed potatoes. When everything was ready, I put the steaks in the grill pan. That only took a few minutes as well. I took them out of the pan and let them rest for a bit while I headed to the nursery to check on my two sweethearts.

The picture that presented itself to me had not changed a bit and yet it was beautiful as it had been an hour ago. I went to them and carefully lifted Hazel out of Damian's arms to put her in her crib. Once again it looked like my little one was smiling. That was something that always filled me with happiness.

Then I went back to Damian and sat down gently in his lap. But he didn't seem to notice. I put my hand to his cheek and then gave him a kiss on the forehead. My thumb slowly stroked his cheekbone as he opened his eyes. His dark, warm eyes found mine.

"Hey... How was your nap? Dinner's ready!" I whispered.

"Already? How long have you been back?" he wanted to know in a hushed voice.

"About an hour," I replied softly.

Without saying a word, Damian got up and carried me in his arms out of our daughter's room, through the living room and into the kitchen. I couldn't help but giggle softly. D put me back on my feet and then hugged me tightly before giving me a little kiss.

"I could get used to this." I said softly as I put my hands on his neck.

"I already did." he replied with a happy smile.

"Let's eat and have a nice evening. I'm sad you won't be here tomorrow," I said.

"I know. But I'll be back with you as soon as I can." he promised as he held me by the hips.

"That's what I like to hear. And it's also what I wanted to talk to you about," I replied.

"About what exactly?" asked Damian.

"We can talk about it after dinner. After all, I can't let the big, strong wrestler starve," I said to change the subject, because it was already making me a little nervous.

I prepared two plates for us and then we sat down together at the small dining table in the kitchen and enjoyed our meal. Even though we talked casually while we ate and then did the dishes, I knew Damian was wondering what I wanted to talk to him about. And probably he also noticed my insecurity.

"Now... what did you want to talk about, Bluebell?" he asked encouragingly as he pulled me onto the couch with him and held my hand very tightly.

"It's just something I think about all the time. And I don't know... I don't know how to do this. But I just want to know... Damian... what are we?" I stammered with my gaze lowered as I felt my cheeks begin to burn.

"Oh now I know why you're so fidgety." he laughed as he lifted my chin with his index finger so I had to look at him.

"Well?" I asked.

"Well obviously we are family and always will be. But I don't think that's what you meant. You're my girl, Bluebell. You belong by my side. You and Hazelnut. And I don't give a fuck what other people might think of us. When I said I love you, I meant it. I love you and you're my girlfriend. I am the man at your side and if even one other man dares to come near you, I will crush him. For me it was clear from the beginning that we have more.

And now that I have you back in my life. And Hazel, our little princess too.... I'm not gonna let you run away from me again. I want you to trust me, Kat. We can talk about anything. And we have to. Because we are connected. Forever." he explained to me in a firm, serious voice.

"So... that means for little silly... you're my boyfriend?" I asked a little silly and with a fat grin.

"Yep." replied Damian simply.

"I love you too, boyfriend." I then said and leaned forward.

Damian didn't hesitate for a second and kissed me. Again, it didn't take long for the kiss to become more passionate. Our hands explored each other's bodies until eventually we were both gasping for breath.

"Do you... well... maybe you want to move this to the bedroom?" he asked a little hesitantly.

"I thought you'd never ask. But this time I'm prepared. We don't want a second little surprise, after all. I bought condoms at the store. But, um... um... please remember that... well... I had a baby and my body... may not be exactly like the one you remember," I suddenly replied insecurely.

"Bluebell, you are perfect. Just the way you are. You are more than just a body. The fact that you grew a baby in your body is a miracle and I'm going to show you exactly how amazing that is. You are you. Don't forget that." he murmured to me.

His voice was rough and his eyes burned like dark fire. They melted all the self-doubt in me. I put my arms around his neck as he slid his long arms under me to stand up with me in his arms. Again he carried me, but this time into the bedroom where he showed me indeed how much I meant to him.

#damian priest #wwe #Wattpad #My writing #lace & leather

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crayonwriting · 3 years

Text

The Miya House

(gif credits)

series masterlist

Katsumi rubbed at her eyes as she entered their bright living room. She pulled up her small trolley she left there last night and pushed it around. She was quiet as she took notice of the small houses in the corners of the room. They weren't there last night, she thought to herself. She noticed a man through one of the windows of the tiny houses. She cautiously approached one of them. Katsumi playfully knocked on it, shaking the small house slightly.

"Come in." The cameraman played along. Katsumi pulled up one of the covers. She smiled at the cameraman and climbed inside. She giggled into the huge camera lens, completely fascinated. She peeked through the window and waved at the other cameraman on the other side. This went on for a few minutes before a muffled crying was heard in one of the rooms. Katsumi immediately got out of the small house and responded to the baby's cry. She looked back at the uncle and told him that it was her brother. "It's Hiroku." "Where is he?" The cameraman asked. Katsumi pointed down their small hallway. She walked down to Hiroku's room.

In the middle of it, was an average-sized inflatable bed, big enough for little Hiroku to rolled around in his sleep. Once he saw his sister standing in the doorway, his crying ceased and he smiled. Katsumi cheered and climbed into Hiroku's bed and played with him. The small room erupted with giggles and laughs from the siblings. Feeling satisfied that her brother is happy and smiling, she rushed back to the living room to get her stuffed bunny, and ran back down the hallway at the end. She pushed open the big door and ran to the side of the big king-sized bed. "Papa, papa. Wake up!" She walked closer and tugged at her father's hand that was dangling over the edge of the bed. "Papa, please." She leaned down and kissed the back of his hands. Just like a fairytale, her kiss successfully roused her father awake. He groaned as he stretched his limbs. He smiled at the sight of his daughter, first thing in the morning. "Did ya sleep well, princess?" He asked her but she didn't respond. She latched at his hand and pulled with all her might. She wanted to show her papa to the people in the living room. "What's the hurry for, sweetheart? Are ya hungry?" His voice was still laced with sleep as he let himself get dragged by his daughter. ** "Hello! I am Katsumi and Hiroku's dad, and setter for the MSBY Black Jackals, Miya Atsumu." He flashed his infamous smile to the camera. ** Atsumu settled Hiroku in his high chair and grabbed a bottle for him to feed on. As Hiroku fed himself, he headed to the kitchen. "Wanna help papa, Katsumi-chan?" He called her over, grabbing two oranges from the kitchen island and a juicer. Katsumi cheered and stood on her step stool so that she could reach the top of the counter. Atsumu cut the oranges in half and handed them to her. "Here ya go. You just have to do this," he placed the cut orange onto the juicer and pressed down. Katsumi swatted his hands away, wanting to do it herself. She pressed down with all her might to get the juices out. Atsumu's heart soared at her daughter's dedication. He let her do her own thing as he started toasting some bread and cutting up some avocado and bell peppers. "Papa, 'm done!" Atsumu cheered her on. He showed her how to pour the squeezed out juice into the glass. "Good job! Can ya squeeze a few more?" Katsumi did just that. Atsumu owed it all to you for teaching Katsumi how to help out around the house. You did try to let her just be a kid and play around but it was Katsumi herself that really wanted to help, especially when you were in the kitchen. When Atsumu set the cut up vegetables on the counter, Katsumi's eyes perked up. "Papa! Can I give uncle a pepper?" She picked up two yellow bell peppers. Atsumu just nodded. Katsumi skittered out of the kitchen and went to the small house she played in earlier. "Please eat up, uncle." She handed him the pepper which he thanked her for. "My papa made that." She took a bite of the other piece she brought.

She turned to the other small house at the other side of the room and raised that bitten piece of pepper. "My papa made this. It's delicious." She smiled widely, proud. Just then, Atsumu came out from the kitchen, carrying Hiroku in his arms. He feigned shock when he saw his daughter's head poking into the camera man's house. "What are ya doing there, ya little brat?" Katsumi stiffled her laughs with her hands, running towards her father and latching unto one of his legs. He ruffled her hair and told her that it was time to serve breakfast to her mama. Katsumi's whole demeanor brightened even more, as she rushed back down the hallway to her parent's room. It was still dark in there but she can see your silhouette buried between the covers. "Mama, mama! Wake up!" She did her best to get herself on the bed, and when she did, she slapped her small hands on your butt to wake you up. Not long after, Atsumu came inside the room with Hiroku. "Hiroku is here!" He raised the baby and laid him on top of you. "Wake up your mama!" Hiroku flailed but settled himself when he was finally on your back. You groaned softly, rousing yourself to wake. You raised your hand up to signal that you were awake which earned a cheer from Katsumi. She scrambled out of the room to settle herself on the kitchen table, ready to show you the breakfast she helped make. You turned your face to the side and saw Hiroku's drooling face hanging from your back. Atsumu ruffled your hair and placed a lingering kiss on your temple. "Love 'ya, babe. Let's have breakfast." He placed another kiss on your head and went out the room. The silence that followed almost lulled you back to sleep if it wasn't for Hiroku. The infant squirmed and babbled at you to get up. When you didn't budge, he pulled at your hair harshly. That did the trick. "Okay, okay! I'm up!" **

"Uhm, hi." You nervously tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. While in the process, you covered your face briefly with your hand. You've been in the limelight for a few times---being Atsumu's girlfriend, now wife---but you still aren't used to being in front of the cameras. "Don't get shy on us, babe." He sat beside you with your daughter, Katsumi, on his lap. You had Hiroku in your arms who was babbling softly to himself. You gained your composure and faced the camera again. "Hello, my name is Miya Y/N." You glanced down at Hiroku and played with his chubby legs, squeezing them lightly to ease your anxiousness. "I am Katsumi and Hiroku's mom. Nice to meet you all." You gave a small bow. Atsumu looked ar you, proud. One of the staff asked your four-year-old daughter a question from behind the camera. "What is your name?" "Poopoo." This made everyone laugh and giggle. With the adult's reaction, it made Katsumi laugh loudly as she repeated the word. "I am so sorry for that." You apologized with an exasperated laugh. As she was giggling, Hiroku—who was on your lap—reached over to his sister and grabbed at her arms and hands. He almost toppled over but you held him tight and just leaned in a tad bit closer to Katsumi and Atsumu. Katsumi opened up her arms and hugged her brother, giving a soft kiss to his hair. She released him from her hold. All of a sudden, she wanted to get down from her father's lap. "Kastumi-chan, do you have to go now?" You thought that maybe she was telling you she needed to actually go to the toilet when she blurted out the word 'poopoo' on national television. She didn't answer you though. She was focused on the thought of getting down from her father's hold. She leaned forward but something was pulling on her hair. She did it once more and felt another sharp tug. "Wait, wait, wait! Yer hair got stuck, princess. Let me take it out." Atsumu's microphone, which was clipped on his shirt , was now entangled in Katsumi's hair. He held the small piece of plastic in between his fingers as he pulled out his daughter's hair gently. It was a struggle as Katsumi kept shaking her head left and right. She got down on Atsumu's lap and tried to go around. "Katsumi-chan! Hold on! It's still in yer hair!" Atsumu crouched down and followed her small figure to avoid pulling on her hair even more. He had managed to get it out just as Katsumi started circling around the two of you. You gave Atsumu an apologetic smile. ** You switched with Atsumu so now you were holding Katsumi in your lap while Hiroku was on Atsumu's, feeding on a bottle you had packed. Now with a more peaceful

atmosphere, the staff decided to ask Katsumi again. "What is your name?" She smiled and leaned back on your chest. "My name is Katsumi. Nice to meet you." She almost whispered the last part as she waved bashfully at the multiple cameras. "Alright, and what is your brother's name?" Katsumi just copied what the staff said which made you and Atsumu laugh. Hiroku flailed his arms around, seeing his family all laughing and smiling. "No, Katsumi. What's yer brother's name? Tell 'em it's Hiroku. Hi-ro-ku." Atsumu urged Kastumi but to no avail. Hearing his name come out of his father's lips, the young boy squealed in delight and threw the bottle he was suckling on to the floor. You and Atsumu both leaned down and to get it. Your head bumped against his and you both hissed in pain. So much for a calm interview. ** Entering the kitchen with Hiroku, Atsumu and Katsumi presented the simple breakfast they had prepared for you. It wasn't much,—just cut up vegetables and apples, toast, butter, jam and orange juice—as this was the extent of Atsumu's cooking skills. It wasn't as extravagant as Osamu's, but it's made with the same effort and love. When everyone is settled down, your family of four started eating the small yet hearty breakfast. Atsumu fed some mashed avocados to Hiroku. You helped Katsumi put some butter and jam on her own toast. "Katsumi-chan, can ya tell us who made breakfast today?" Atsumu's chest slightly puffed out. Katsumi took a bite of her food and proudly exclaimed that it was her who made breakfast. "Wow! That's so amazing Katsumi! Good job!" You leaned over and kissed her plush cheeks. She beamed at the praise and affection given to her, continuing to eat her breakfast with a smile on her face. Just as you were going to take a bite out of your avocado toast, you felt a soft tapping on your arm. Atsumu had an expectant look on his face as his eyes darted from your face to the toast in your hands. You raised an eyebrow at him. He pointed to your toast then to his open mouth. "What are you doing?" You asked. "Can I have a bite of yer toast?" You eyed him suspiciously before sliding the plate over. "Aww, can ya feed me Y/N? I kinda have my hands full." His arm was placed on the back of Hiroku's high chair and his other hand held a small baby spoon. "'Tsumu." You half-glared at him. You would've fed him instantly if it weren't for the multiple cameras scattered around your house. Your husband knew how you weren't used to being in front of the cameras and was probably doing this on purpose. Atsumu laughed and took a bite of the toast himself. "'Tsumu!" Both of you looked to Katsumi who was starting to giggle. "Atsumu!" "Yes, princess?" Atsumu raised an eyebrow. "Don't call me that. I'm yer dad. Ya should call me 'papa.'" But the little girl paid no attention to her father. She raised her arms up and shouted in delight, "Miya Atsumu!" The young setter just chuckled. "Papa! Say, 'papa!'" "Miya Atsumu." "Papa." "Miya Atsumu." "Papa!" "Miya Atsumu!" "Papa!" "Miya Atsumooooo!" She burst into a giggling fit which made the rest of you laugh along. ** "Oh, how I met Y/N?" Atsumu chuckled. He looked up at the studio ceiling as he recalled the memory. "Man, that's a good question. Well," he remembered it like it was just last week, "We had a game in France and there was a cafe by the stadium. My brother, Osamu, wanted to taste French breads or something and we happened to go that cafe. Y/N was also a customer on the day we went. Apparently, she and Osamu had already met on the flight to France! And were like, 'What are ya doing here?' It wasn't common to see another Japanese person fly to France on the same day, so they'd become friends." Atsumu crossed his arms against his chest. "And after meeting at the cafe, somehow, she and I became friends as well. We kept in touch. Met back home. Hung out. I thought she was falling for my brother when one day she asked me if I thought about her as more than a friend." Atsumu chuckeld, biting his bottom lip. "That made me

rethink everything and then...," he shook his head, smiling, "It just went perfect from there." He remembers when it was finally revealed to the public that alleged badboy Miya Atsumu of the MSBY Black Jackals is now taken. Sneaky paparazzi photos, various rumors, and an almost break up later, you married your best friend in a private ceremony with just the important people in your lives. "Many twists and turns later, we got Katsumi." He blushed a little. "And then last year, Hiroku was born." ** As Atsumu took Hiroku to the living rom to play, you carried Katsumi to the kitchen and sat her at the counter. "Okay Katsumi-chan, I have a special task for you today." She giggled in excitement as she put her full attention to you. You felt your back pocket and pulled put a silver coin. " I'm going to give you this," you waved the coin in front of her, "Much money if you help me clean the dishes." Katsumi nodded eagerly and clapped her hands. "I'll help you mama! Katsumi can do it!" Holding out her arms to you, you set her down on the floor and she immediately ran back to the dining table and picked up an empty plate. It was still heavy for her small stature but she walked slowly and carefully before handing it to you. "Thank you Katsumi! But let me carry the dishes to the sink, okay? I don't want you to get hurt." She nodded and stayed near the sink. She pulled out her step tool from the cabinet below it and set it up, waiting for you. The two of you got started with the task at hand, with you doing the washing and your daughter, the drying. She wiped at the plates and glasses carefully and set them to the side. There was only a few items so the both of you managed to finish right away. "I'm done, mama!" She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and can out to the living room. On one of the bookshelves there, she picked up a pink plastic piggy back and ran back to you. She lifted her piggy bank to you with an adorable smile. You thanked her for being such a good daughter for helping with breakfast and cleaning up after. Her eyes widened in amazement at the shiny coin. She inserted it in the slot of the piggy bank, letting out a laugh. "Yum, yum, yum!" She exclaimed, shaking the toy pig. ** You looked at Atsumu with a nervous smile. "Are you sure you can do it, 'Tsumu?" "Of course!" He puffed out his chest, proud. "I'm just... worried." "Are ya worried about me or the kids?" "The kids." You answered without missing a heartbeat. Atsumu feigned offense and just clicked his tongue at you, all with a big grin on his face. "It's just that, he's never been alone with both kids, And we all know how competitive this guy can get. He'll do anything to prove something." Atsumu's jaw slacked in shock, placing his hand on his chest for added dramatics. You rolled your eyes at him—with a smile, of course—and pushed his shoulder. He almost fell off the chair if not for him clasping your hands together. He sat himself upright and kissed the back of your hand, Keeping them intertwined until the end of the interview. ** "So, what are ya gonna do on yer break?" Atsumu asked as he waved a toy dinosaur in front of Hiroku who squealed in delight. You were sat on the carpeted floor as well and Katsumi was behind you on the sofa, playing with your hair. She had a hairbrush beside her along with several colored hairpins and clips. "I'll probably sleep for the first three days." You laughed. " And I'll work undercover as a cameraman. I feel like I need to follow you around. God knows what's gonna happen with you and the kids." "After all these years, I can't believe ya don't trust me with our children." Atsumu clicked his tongue and shook his head. You kicked him lightly in the shin. "You know that's not what I meant." You jutted your bottom lip in a pout. Your husband chuckled to himself before he grabbed your leg and kissed your ankle. ** "I always feel bad, y'know?" He scratched the back of his head. "Being a pro-volleyball player, I'm away for months from time to time. She practically raised

those two kids on her own, without my help. And it just sucks." He breathed in heavily and smiled softly at the interviewer. "I want her to have some time for herself. Let her relax, get a massage, and do the things she's never got to do before." ** You dried your face with a towel and handed it to Katsumi who mimicked your actions. You brushed your hair away from your eyes. Your daughter handed you a small, candy hair clip which you took gratefully. "Thank you, Katsumi-chan." You booped her nose. You put the clip on your hair, earning a satisfied giggle from her. Crouching down a little, you picked her up and exited the bathroom. You carried her with you to your shared bedroom and got your wallet and your phone. Going back to the living room, you set her down on the sofa as you got your luggage ready. "Got ev'rything ya need?" Atsumu approached you, placing his hands on your shoulders. "Yup." You smiled up at him, I'm all set." You picked up your bag and slung it on your back. You got your cap as well, which was on top of your suitcase and put it on. Atsumu helped you pushed your suitcase to the front door. You sat down by the genkan and put on your shoes. Nearby, a soft babbling was heard as Hiroku crawled over to where his parents were. Katsumi was following behind, fiddling with her fingers nervously. Sadness was evident on her face and it was obvious how much she was trying her best not to cry. "Say goodbye to mama." Atsumu knelt down and picked up his son, while ushering his daughter closer. You turned to Katsumi with your arms wide open, inviting her to a hug. Your little girl immediately closed the distance between you. She crashed into your body, wounding her small arms around your neck in a tight embrace. You hug her back with as much fervor. Nothing was said between you two. You kissed her check with a loud smack making her giggle at the ticklish feeling. "Aww, don't leave us out." Atsumu wrapped his vacant arm around his small family. He almost feels like crying. As if he sensed his father's distress, Hiroku started crying. Atsumu did his best to comfort him by bouncing him lightly in his arms and rubbing his back. "Do you want me to calm him down?" You were already brushing the soft tufts of hair on Hiroku's head. "If ya do, ya might not just leave anymore. Yer flight is in 2 hours." Atsumu kissed your forehead. "I got this." You smiled worriedly before breathing out a sigh. "Alright," you stood up, "I'm off. I'll call you later." You grabbed the handle of your luggage and just as you opened the door, Atsumu grabbed your shoulder. You raised an eyebrow at him. "Can I have a kiss?" He puckered his lips slightly. You scoffed at the gesture, shaking your head in disbelief. You muttered under your breath how silly he was being but pulled him towards you nonetheless. He shifted Hiroku to his other arm, placing his hand delicately at the back of your neck, he leaned down and kissed your lips. He hummed at the satisfaction of feeling your lips against his. You pulled away after a few seconds but Atsumu was quick to pull you back in. He pressed his lips harder against yours, slightly dipping you in the process. You lost a bit of balance and held onto his shoulder for support. By this time, Hiroku had stopped crying and was now trying to get yours and Atsumu's attention by tapping his hands on your cheeks. Atsumu finally pulled back, pecking your lips one last time before standing back up to his full height. "I love ya." He said with a dopey smile. Your face grew hot and you knew you were blushing but that's just how it always was with Atsumu—the giddy, highschool type of love. "I love you, 'Tsumu." You turned to Hiroku in his arms and rubbed his cheek with your finger. "I love you too, Hiroku." You looked down at your daughter who clung to Atsumu's leg. You crouched down and kissed her forehead. "And of course, I love this little girl right here!" Looking her in the eye, you whispered, "Look after your dad, okay? He's a little troublesome." Katsumi laughed and gave you a

thumbs up. You ruffled her hair. Standing back up, you looked at your family with all the love in the world. You fixed the strap of your bag and headed out the door.

—

A/N: This has been in my drafts for months. It's time to let it be known. I hope this was okay!

03.15.2021

#b writes #tros #haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #atsumu #atsumu imagine #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #miya atsumu imagine #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu x reader

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gotnofucks · 4 years

Text

Lovely Shade of Green

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Jealousy is a very good look on your boyfriend.

Words: 1.7k

Warning: Smut, oral sex, jealousy, slight daddy kink, slight dom bucky, language, 18+ Only

A/N: For @drabblewithfrannybarnes who wanted chubby!Bucky smut! Here you go darling, I hope you like it!

MASTERLIST

+++++

You were bleary eyed, head rising and falling slowly as it rested on the soft pooch of Bucky’s belly, a hand patting your head gently. You would have fallen asleep had the bottle not landed at you. Tony was snickering, shitfaced and you wondered again why you agreed to play today.

“Truth or dare Y/n?” He asked and you mumbled truth. “Do you and tin man take it up the ass raw or are you lubing it up?”

Bucky groaned, a hand coming up to shield his eyes. He was still not comfortable talking about your sex life in the open, and certainly not with Tony. You rolled your eyes, hand hugging Bucky closer as you scoffed.

“Changed my mind, gimme a dare.”

A little spark of doubt crept in you when Nat and Tony exchanged a look. The moment a smile blossomed on Nat’s lips you knew you were fucked.

“I dare you to sit between Thor’s legs until the game ends.”

In the time it took you to understand they actually meant it, Bucky had sat up straight and pulled you up under his arm. He growled with a hand holding you to him, jaw clenched tight.

“Shut your crap trap Stark, this is not a joke.” He warned and Tony, intoxicated beyond measure just waved his worry aside.

“I’m not asking her to ride his thigh terminator, just asking her to sit between his legs. You don’t mind do you, Thor?”

Thor who was just as drunk on his Asgardian mead as Tony, giggled and shook his head.

“Come here little Y/n, I’ve got lot of flesh to keep you warm.” He bent his knees to make space for you in them and you raised your eyebrows. Your gaze shifted to your boyfriend who was glaring at Thor and Tony while Nat looked expectantly at you.

“It’s only until the game ends, come on now. Few minutes at most.” Nat urged and you hesitatingly went over to Thor who gently plopped you between his thighs. His front was brushing your back and you bit your lip, looking at Bucky who was now scowling at the floor with fists clenched. The bottle was spinning again, and you pretended to be interested in the game, your sleep deprived brain still not sure what happened.

Maybe it was finally too much, maybe it was because Tony kept looking over at you and chuckling or maybe it was because Thor placed a warm hand on your shoulder that Bucky snapped. He stood up suddenly, took the spinning bottle in his hand and smashed it on the floor right beside Tony.

“This game is fucking over, and if you utter another word from that stupid pie-hole so will you.”

Saying this he marched over to you and roughly hauled you up by your arm, walking swiftly back to the hall and your room. Drunken murmurs and cheers could be heard behind you, most clearly Sam’s who said, “I’ll take my 20 bucks now Cap, told you it won’t take more than 10 mins.”

You tried to keep up with Bucky’s long stride as he angrily dragged you to your room and all but flung you inside. You were far more awake now as you gazed into Bucky’s narrowed blue eyes, his plump cheeks red with anger you felt a nervous heat between your legs. The door was shut and locked and Bucky turned on you.

“You have been a naughty girl, cuddlebear.” He said softly and you nodded dumbly.

“Buck, it was a game.” You said and he came closer, his hands wrapping around your waist and pushing you back towards the bed.

“You should have said no, you should have left.”

You trembled as your knees met the bed, sitting down and letting Bucky peel away your t-shirt. His frown deepened as he bunched the Captain America t-shirt you had stolen from the charity event last month.

“Look at that cuddlebear, not only do you dare to sit between another man’s legs like you’re his puppy, but also wear someone else’s mark. Do you think that was a nice thing to do?” His voice was hardened with lust and jealousy and you creamed yourself when he tore the fabric in his hands and threw it away.

“No, I am sorry.” You say and Bucky tutted, flicking your chin.

“Sorry what?”

“I am sorry Daddy” You corrected, and Bucky’s lips enveloped yours, rough and soft at the same time. Your hands clutched his side, nails digging into his soft love handles as he pushed you on the bed and climbed over you. You moaned in his mouth, shimming out of your pajamas when he pulled back to breath and started stripping himself.

“You know I don’t like it when you’re in some other man’s arms, right?” He asked and you nodded. You put your hands on his shoulders and pushed him down, straddling him.

“I’m sorry Daddy, let me show you I only love you.” You breathed and Bucky’s eyes rolled when you pinched his nipples. He nodded, and you bent over him, your mouth meeting his in a messy kiss. His metal hand was cold on your back and your groaned, sucking a spot on his neck that made him shiver. Tracing the jagged scars on his left shoulder with your fingers and mouth you ground your hips on the bulge between your legs, your wetness dripping down and over his balls.

“Cuddlebear, gimme more.” Bucky begged and you hummed, sliding down to bath his body. You kissed and suckled his flesh, giving special attention to his nipples before nuzzling the chubby flesh of his belly. You dipped the tip of your wet tongue in his belly button making his arch up and smiled. One of his hands fisted your hair and pulled you, the other grabbing his weeping cock and smacking you in the face with it.

“Take it in, now. Show me your love and loyalty.”

You took his thick cock in your mouth, the corners of your mouth aching as they stretched wide to fit his girth. Your hands stroked what your mouth couldn’t take, and you started bobbing your head, the bed rocking slightly as Bucky thrust softly in your mouth. As you hollowed your cheek and sucked, slowly pulling back to just graze your teeth and again going back down, your hand reached between your own legs to play with your swollen sex, your juiced coating your thighs.

Bucky’s moan spurned you on, your drool dripping over his pelvis and you moved fasted and deeper, taking him with a skill that made his thighs shudder. He was close and you could feel it, his hand in your hair tightening until almost painful and suddenly you were pulled off and rolled onto the bed and under him.

“Now cuddlebear, you are going to take me in your drenched pussy and take me hard and fast. You’re going to come around me, gush around the tool that makes you feel so so good and thank me for giving you my cum. Get it?”

You nodded, drunk on lust as your Bucky’s hand reached your wet folds and played with your entrance, rubbing the walls to loosen you. Even after months of being together, you needed to be prepared to take him in, his cock thicker and meatier than any you had had before. You felt him align himself and grabbed his face in your hands, pulling him into a deep kiss just as he pushed inside you.

Moaning into his mouth as the mix of pain and pleasure, you held him to yourself, mashing your breast to his chest. His hips snapped against yours, thrusts deep and hard as his piercing eyes kept yours prisoner.

“Who do you belong to cuddlebear?” He asked, head dipping for a moment to nip at your nipple that made your clamp on him harder.

“You daddy, only you.”

“Who do you love?” The bed was banging against the wall, the sound of his balls hitting your ass echoing in the room. Only the sheer power of his hypnotic gaze kept you grounded to reality, made you aware of nothing but him.

“I love only you daddy.” You whined, voice broken as he gave you two powerful, punishing thrusts.

“Will you ever sit on another man’s lap?”

“No daddy!” You shouted and his mouth came down on yours, hips a blur as they powered into you. You cried out, heels digging into his back and his sweaty front pressed flush to yours. Salty sweat trickled down from his hair and fell in your eyes, mixing with your tears as you babbled incoherently at the abject pleasure that sent lightning bolts shooting down your spine and right to your clit.

You spasmed around him, your warmth clutching around him in a glove of velvet heat as his voice whispered his love in your ear. He twitched inside, the warmth of him filling you until some escaped and squelched along with your own release, a breathy “Thank you daddy” leaving your mouth.

He was laying on you, his weight crushing you to the mattress and you let him be, wrapping yourself around him. Warm lips met your jaw and cheeks, continuing to press against your nose and forehead until finally, almost chastely pecking yours.

“Did I hurt you my love?” He asked softly, eyes tender and concerned. You smiled at him, the strongest and kindest man you knew.

“You can never hurt me Buck, never. I love you.”

He rolled over to the side, taking you with him and tucking you to his side. You threw a leg over his thick thighs, tracing the numerous stretch marks and battle scars that littered his body.

“I’m sorry about tonight, I didn’t mean to get angry.” He said and you giggled, booping his nose with your index finger.

“Buck, I love it when you get jealous and angry. It’s flattering, and I kinda adore it when you go caveman.” You admitted and he laughed, hugging you closer.

“Good, because I don’t like sharing. You’re my cuddlebear and I plan on keeping you.”

You peeked up at him, twirling a strand of his hair and tugging gently.

“Forever?”

His eyes, your safe place and heaven looked at you in warmth and full of promise.

“Forever.”

+++++

Tags:

@what-is-your-wish @shooting-star-love @littlegasps @sebastiansthot @its-izzys @sweeterthanthis @muralskins @stanmysoul @scentedsongrebel

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #chubby!bucky x reader #chubby!bucky

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

innocence - 28

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: angst

A/N: its angst season again!!

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky looked around like a crazed maniac, looking for anyone, just anyone who could be responsible for the letter he was holding in his hands. His blood seemed to freeze in his veins just like they used to when they held him hostage in the Russian base. Those words were tattooed in his retina, as it dawned on him he had once again to keep her safe. His ears started ringing like they always did when they used to trigger him, the ring itself replacing any other environment sound, becoming so loud it fully overcame over his senses, rendering him particularly useless. Not that he was of use lately.

- Bucky? - Y/N’s sister, Claire, called out to him. Almost mechanically, he stuffed the letter in his back pocket. - Are you okay? You look a bit shocked. Any naughty Christmas post cards?

- Just a bit ... cold.

- Yeah, Y/N said you were not very comfortable with it. Sorry about that, I was just trying to keep you away from Aunt Petunia. She’s too much.

- Thanks, Claire. Hm ... do you have any landline? I need to make a call to the US and my plan is running out.

- Yeah, no worries. There’s one in the hall by Y/N’s bedroom. - she gave him a warm smile which was reminiscent of Y/N yet did little to nothing to calm him down. He handed her the rest of the mail before climbing up the stairs to the same hall which had doors on each side. Yet, despite it looking like a maze all he cared about was that small telephone on the table.

Her picked the phone, leaning it against his ear as the rolled the dial to Steve’s number, the letter firmly mashed in his fist as he wanted nothing more than to burn it in the big fire place but he couldn’t. All he could think of was whoever had broken into Y/N’s flat back had followed them to London and once again he had been incapable of protecting her. He had let whoever was sending her those nasty messages, get to her in one of her most safe places. The other line rang like the passage of long times, until he heard the voice which had become synonymous with freedom and America together.

- Steve Rogers.

- Steve, they did it it again. - he snapped before he could even tell who it was on the phone. Yet, if his oldest friend couldn’t figure out his voice after so many years then maybe he needed new friends.

- Buck?

- Someone left a letter on her mail box calling her a whore again. You and Natasha were on it trying to figure out who did it in New York. - he continued on like an out of control mess.

- Buck, calm down. Was the handwriting similar? Maybe it’s a prank.

- There’s no handwriting just magazine cut outs and it’s not a prank.

Y/N stepped out of the car, walking over to the luggage holder to help her father take the shopping bags out while her mother walked up to the door to unlock it before they could climb up the stairs. Her father opened the truck of the small red car which they had had since she was a baby. She still remembered her father picking her up from ballet practice, the red colour bright through the cloudy skies. It always felt so safe to enter through those doors, almost if there was no harm whenever she was inside the old metal vehicle. Things were so simple back then and evil was so hardly defined and bordered away from her. She had had a good childhood, good parents, good family so why was she so scared whenever she was in New York? Why was she so intrinsically insecure and meek?

- So, beanie, you and James. Does he treat you well? - he asked as he handed her some bags and christmas boxes.

- He’s just perfect, dad.

- Then what is it?

- What do you mean? - she looked over her shoulder.

- Well, you’re my daughter, you’ve been my daughter for over 5 years now and I like to think I know you better than you think. What’s wrong, Y/N?

- I’m just homesick, dad. - she faked a smile, pushing her hat further down her head, trying to fiddle with something else. - New York is different from here and well, stardom is different from here. It has nothing to do with Bucky.

- He makes you happy?

- He does.

- Then I’m happy for you, beanie. - her father kissed the top of her head, carrying half the shopping bags and gifts onto the home while Y/N stood back looking at the neighbourhood she’d grown up in. It wasn’t perfect, no place in the world is perfect but it had a much more emotional connection to her than her place in SoHo. Of course, maybe it was just her own rose coloured glasses of being away from such a structured, planned 3 year ahead career.

She smiled softly at the houses in exposed brick shades and the coloured blue and red doors with big gold number. Rows and rows of houses which seemed never ending when she was younger yet now seemed so quickly fading from view. Nothing is everlasting and she remembered so well thinking everything was but maybe it was for the best. Good things end to give way to better ones and bad things end become they no longer suit you.

Y/N looked over her shoulder one last time before entering the house. She put the bags near the other ones neatly stacked by the staircase before pulling her coat and jacket off. The house was always filled with noise, it was never quiet. Always abundant with laughter or discussions about the silly topics. This time, they were discussing some weird plot on the television. However, Bucky was nowhere to be seen.

- Did you not invite Bucky? - she crossed her arms, giving her siblings the dirtiest look she could muster. - Guys, I asked you to include him.

- We did but your boyfriend has been on an international call for the last hour. It’s gonna add up. - Colin retorted.

- I’m gonna go check on him. - she reminded herself to tell Colin off for that backhanded comment but she was much more preoccupied with Bucky. Sure, he did enjoy his loneliness but Y/N didn’t want him to feel alienated. She did not want him to feel lonely or like a stranger in her home. Climbing up the stairwell, she noticed him at the end of the hall, old telephone she used to toy around with when she was a kid pretending to call her family yet, unlike her past childhood self, Bucky had the phone firmly pressed against his ears, lips tight, one hand holding himself against the table.

She noticed his indisposition, his muscles so tight she wondered how come he hadn’t had a cramp and like any empath she approached him with her characteristic sunny attitude, wrapping her arms around his waist, putting herself on her tip toes to kiss him. Bucky, however, moved his head to the side, mumbling something over on the phone in Russian, switching languages as if he did not want her to hear his conversation. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, her overthinking nature picking at her brain as she leaned her head against his shoulder. Bucky turned around slightly to kiss her on top of her head like one does to a child or a friend.

- I’m on a call now, princess. - he held her arm up to wrap it from his waist.

- Okay. I’ll just go ... go have a shower.

She delayed her exit, almost waiting for him to kiss her like he always did whenever she left. However, Bucky quickly returned to his call, in Russian, and she got the message loud and clear. She tried not to think much about it, after all Bucky was still related to the Avengers and despite being his girlfriend, she was not expect to be into that sort of information. She tried to convince herself of that fact as she stepped onto the cold porcelain of her shower floor. The water fell from her head onto her shoulder as she scrubbed the dirt off her body, constantly telling her inner anxiety, Bucky was merely busy. If she were busy she wouldn’t have liked her partner being clingy. He was busy.

She turned off the shower, wrapping herself in the fluffy bathrobe she probably had had since she was 18, hair still damp as she slide her feet into fluffy slippers and walked into her bedroom. Bucky was sat in her bed, laptop on his lap as he typed the keyboard so harshly one would think he’d break the keys. She smiled to herself as she took the side near him, head laying on top his cozy black jumper, probably dampening the fabric but Bucky didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he didn’t even seen to mind her presence, merely ignoring it. She looked up at him, moving to kiss his jaw with an innocence type of request which was anything but innocent.

- Buck. - she said in a sing song type of voice, almost like a mermaid calling out for a sailor. - Why don’t we finish what we started in the airplane?

- Not today, princess. - he kissed the top of her head once again. - I’m not in the mood for it.

- Oh ... hum ... okay. - she almost retracted back into her shell at those words. Had she done something this morning? Something to upset him? Maybe he didn’t enjoy her leaving him alone with her family. - Do you wanna go out for dinner?

- I don’t think it’s wise, princess. They might ... pap us or someth’ng.

Did he not want to be papped with her? Maybe he was still upset over the pap photos she had willingly given away. She didn’t know and she didn’t want to know. Instead, she decided to turn around in the bed, still naked under her bathroom and stare at the wall until she felt sleep weigh on her eyelids. Bucky, on the other side, had his wild eyes glued to the screen, watching the security tape of her apartment over and over again. It had been cut, he knew it had from the time changing sharply, however, he couldn’t see anything which would be of any aid. All he knew was that not only had he failed his job as an Avenger, he failed his job as her bodyguard and failed to protect her like any boyfriend would do. Would it be in a club he could’ve just punched the daylights out of whoever dared to call her that but right now he couldn’t. He didn’t know how to make it stop.

Bucky closed the laptop, putting it on the floor as he looked through his mind about who could want to hurt her, who cold do anything to want her to suffer. He could no figure it out and all he wanted was to figure it out. He leaned against the bars of her bedpost, looking over to his side to see her sleeping on her side, hand under her face and hair drying in front of his face. He carefully pushed the hair away from her face, tucking her into her large duvet before kissing her cheekbone. He couldn’t bring it upon himself to say anything, to tell her the letter came in. Bucky still remembered how she had reacted last time and he did not want it to happen again, he did not want her to feel unsafe in her own home. Instead, he let himself fast asleep next to her.

The morning woke Y/N up, the strange brightness of a sunny winter day hurting her eyes. She groaned, raising her torso from the bed, eyes blurry as she opened them. Rubbing the sleep off her eyes she extended her arm to notice Bucky’s spot was empty. She furrowed her brows, jumping off bed and walking outside and down the stairs onto the living room where most of her siblings and their partners were.

- Wow, Y/N. Clothes under the bathrobe, much? - Eloise teased.

- Where’s Bucky? - she ignored her sister.

- He went out. - Claire added, handing her a cup of tea. - Said he had to grab some stuff.

- Oh ... okay. He didn’t say anything.

- He probably didn’t want to wake you up. - Claire patted her shoulder, kind smile on her lips.

- Or maybe he’s cheating on you. - Colin added, only to be slapped over the head by Eloise. - Hey, what was that for? I was joking.

- He’s not cheating on you. - Claire reassured her. - Colin is just being an ass.

- What? I was joking!

- Not with Y/N, you idiot. - Eloise muttered under her breathe. - Maybe you should go put your clothes on, Y/N. Bucky is probably just Christmas gift shopping.

- Or maybe he got lost? He is like 200 years old. Did you give him a pager? He might be lost in Piccadilly Circus or maybe he can’t get out the underground.

- Fuck off, Colin. - Y/N snapped at him before returning up to her bedroom.

He knew her brother was just trying to get under her skin. Bucky was not cheating on her, when did he even have time to find someone in London to cheat her with? Maybe he had some contacts in London from when he used to come to missions with the Avengers. Maybe he had someone in London for him. No. No, Bucky did not. Bucky wouldn’t cheat on her, Bucky liked her but he was acting out of style to him. She sat on her bed, hand in the middle of her legs as she tried to stop herself from overthinking things that were absolutely ridiculous. Since she was no good at doing such thing, she called the only person who normally could push her back to reality.

- Chuck? I have a problem.

- Jesus, Y/N. Have you forgotten time zones? - Chuck groaned on the other side of the line. - You better be dying.

- Bucky is acting weird.

- Bucky always acts weird. What’s your point?

- I don’t know, Chuck. It feels weird. I even tried ... initiating IT and he said no. Do you think he’s not attracted to me anymore? He didn’t even want to kiss me

- Maybe he was not in the mood, Y/N. Also, why are you so freaked out about saying sex? Are you sexually repressed? Did you try to initiate some kinky sex with Bucky and maybe his old man penis wasn’t okay with it?

- Can we not discuss my boyfriend’s penis, please?

- What? He’s old, maybe it hasn’t been getting up. Did you ask him? Maybe he forgot to pack Viagra and he’s ashamed.

- Chuck. It is not that.

- I don’t know, Y/N. Maybe spice it up. Dress up like Princess Leia in Empire Strikes Back. Every man is into it.

- Bucky hasn’t seen Star Wars.

- I don’t know what was sexually appealing in the 40s, Y/N. Don’t you have that lingerie set they made you wear for Rocky Horror? Use that. Maybe he really just wasn’t in the mood.

- Okay ... yeah. Uhm, maybe it will work.

- Great. Now, I need to sleep because it is too late and there’s a girl in my bed and I don’t want her to think I have you on the side.

- Oh, is she a nice girl?

- Y/N ever since you lost your virginity you get very boring when you don’t get a dick appointment. Go on and do it with Bucky and we’ll talk later.

- Okay, thank you.

- Bye, bye.

Y/N stared at herself in the mirror. She never really saw herself a sexual being or a sexual girl at all. After all, she was the one who got told by three guys at her university freshers party she had the sexual charisma of a toaster. Now the metaphor did not make any sense but all she knew was that it probably did not make any sense. It wasn’t that she wasn’t comfortable with her own sexuality, she just didn’t think about it outside of work. Maybe Bucky was used to girls who put a bit more effort and wasn’t very attracted to her very old bathrobe and her Marks and Spencers cotton underwear. She shrugged it off, opening her wardrobe to skim through some of the costumes she had worn until she found the white lacy set. It was better than her regular cotton underwear. She put her robe back on looking at herself in the mirror as she gave herself a pep talk. He’s not cheating on her. She knows he would never do that.

She sat down in her bed, going over some scripts sent over by the agency until midday when Bucky came into the bedroom, on the phone with someone else, still speaking Russian. She waited for him to finish his call before she walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

- Sorry for not telling you, Y/N. I had to make some calls with the team.

- It’s okay. - she smiled at him. - I was just thinking maybe ... maybe we could have some us time. My parents went to do the groceries and my siblings won’t bother us, besides I have something I want to show you.

- Sorry, not in the mood. I need to call Steve. - he took his jacket off, putting it on the edge of her bed. - It’s urgent, princess.

- Oh, okay.

- Can I use the landline? Pretty sure I still haven’t figured out how to make international calls.

- Yeah. - he kissed the top of her head once more.

She sat on her bed defeated. Her mind going through everything she could’ve possibly done wrong the morning she left with her parents. Maybe he really wasn’t in the mood, however he did seem pretty eager that morning. She sighed. Damned Colin and his stupid backside comment. She sighed, rolling in her bed, the movement making his jacket fall to the ground. Great Y/N, now you’re wrinkling his clothes. She got up from her bed to grab the jacket for a letter to fall on the ground. She looked to the side, leaning down to pick the letter only to drop it once she saw the writing. You cannot hide, whore. She grabbed it from the ground before storming out to the hall, pulling the cable out the wall, effectively stopping Bucky’s call.

- When were you gonna tell me?

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127 notes · View notes

intergalacticwanderer · 3 years

Text

(Part one, part two. This fic is pretty much a mash up of this post about tiefling virtue names and this post about Molly’s tattoos, because apparently I couldn’t stop thinking about it even after making them. Some small references are made to the prior fics but all that’s really needed is that Kingsley recently got all of Molly’s memories and is dealing with that.)

The weather and the seas that day were remarkably calm - not that good for sailing, but good for tasks that required steadier footing or hands. And if the doldrums did stay longer than was welcome, Fjord and Jester both had some tricks to get them out of it, so, nothing to really worry about. There were plenty of things he could do on a day like today.

In that moment he was in Jester’s cabin, sitting on a cushion beside her bed, while she sat on the bed above him and carded her fingers through his hair.

“So what do you want to do this time? Something fancy? Ohh, maybe adventurous? Beau’s here, maybe we could try shaving it!”

Kingsley chuckled, relaxing back into the touch as she gathered up the hair. “Just the usual trim for now. We’ll see about the rest once that's done.”

“Hmm, if you say so,” Jester said, bringing out her small pair of shears and starting on the bottom of the hair while her tail idly brushed against his own. “I do think you’d look really cool with shaved sides though.”

He gave a little hum, letting his tail wrap around hers. “Probably. But trim first.”

“Okaaaaay,” Jester said, mock exasperated, but he could hear the smile in her voice. Soon enough she settled into her rhythm, pulling up individual sections of hair and the quiet snip of the shears the only sound for a moment.

The first time Jester had trimmed his hair had been, while not a disaster, not the best either. At the time however he’d been too aggravated by his long hair to really care, and soon enough it’d become a regular thing, Jester improving with the additional practice. In the grand scheme of things a haircut might not be a huge deal, but at the same time? That first haircut in Nicodranas had been one of the first times he’d really been able to really take control of his own appearance, feel comfortable in how he looked, and he was forever grateful to Jester for helping him continue that. Plus, it was a great way for them to have some time to gossip. Speaking of which...

“So I heard something from Beau the other day.”

“Ohhh? What kind of thing?” He felt her lean forward a little, tail coming free from his to swing back and forth.

“Well, one thing, she told me to ask about a story, but I'm not doing that part yet.”

“Aww! Why not?”

“Cause I don't want to get accidentally stabbed if I laugh at the wrong time.” As if to emphasize his point he felt the shears trimming some hair closer to his ear. “Besides, I can ask about it afterwards, something to look forward to.”

“But you could still do nowww,” Jester said, and even without seeing her face he could hear her pouting.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” he said dramatically and he was rewarded with a giggle.

“Okay, fine. What’s the other part?”

“She was talking about members of the Nein having different names, besides me?” He stretched out his arms in front of him and bowed his back a little before relaxing again, making sure not to move his head while he did it. “I know about Nott and Veth, and there were those sketchy assassin wizard people calling Caleb Bren when all that went down, but she also mentioned you? Said I should ask you about it.” He did his best to seem blasé but his tail betrayed him, curling and thrashing along the floor. He reached over and stilled it with his hand, hoping she hadn’t noticed.

“Oh!” Her voice was surprised, and the shears stopped for a moment. “Did she. Um. Say what it was?”

Kingsley almost shook his head but stopped himself in time. “Nah. Probably figured it wasn’t her place to share, and I’d agree. Won’t say I’m not curious but up to you.”

Understatement. Painful understatement. But he wasn’t going to force it either, no matter how much he wanted to know. It was less about the name itself and more just... the confirmation that she’d had a different name at some point. Something that could maybe help him feel a little less alone with the tangled mess of two names bouncing around in his head these past couple days.

The sound of the shears started back up again. “... Genevieve. But my name is Jester.”

“Never said it wasn’t dear,” Kingsley said, feeling himself relax. “What made you want to change it?”

There was another pause, longer than he expected. “... do you not know about virtue names? Wait, what am I saying?” He felt Jester shift on the bed and a few moments later she was climbing down onto the floor and sitting in front him, hands settling into her lap. “I forget sometimes that you don’t know about certain tiefling stuff.”

Kingsley blinked a few times at the sudden change in set up. “And?”

“So I guess it’s my job to teach you!”

“Am I still getting the rest of my haircut?” He held up a lock of untrimmed hair.

She swatted his arm. “Yes! But this is important enough that I want to talk to you about it face to face.”

Jester shifted to make herself comfortable then clapped her hands together in front of her. “So! What I know about this I learned from my mama, so I don't know everything but what I do know is preeetty cool. The easy version is that virtue names are naming yourself what you want to be!”

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

That earned him another swat on the arm. “There’s more to it than that, silly! Or...” She paused, then shrugged. “Actually, that is pretty much it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not important.”

“See, a virtue name isn’t just what you want to be, it’s thinking about who you are. What you want to strive for, what’s important to you, who you are as a person.” Jester placed a hand on her chest. “For me, Jester was something I thought sounded cool, and I liked that they made other people laugh. And, okay, maybe those reasons are a little simple, but it’s still me, and because it’s me it’s important.”

Kingsley thought over what she’d said. “I... take it Marion isn’t a virtue name?”

Jester shook her head. “Nope, my mama liked the name she had. But she still told me I could choose whatever name I wanted, you know? Even if she didn’t change it herself she wanted me to have that choice. And I did, and I’m happy being Jester.”

“Anyway, that’s tiefling virtue names!” She straightened, about to stand back up when she stopped, something seeming to occur to her. “Wait.” And then Jester pointed at him, face brightening. “Kingsley’s kind of like a virtue name!”

His current confused mess about names did a weird flip in his stomach. “Uh-?”

“You mentioned feeling kingly, and you even have your goal of maybe becoming the Plank King someday! That's so cool!” Jester grinned at him, hands clasped together, but a few moments later her smile fell away. “... Kingsley?”

Even with being addressed directly Kingsley glanced behind him (which, of course, was just the bed), wondering what suddenly had her looking so worried. Was something on his face?

“I’m fine,” he said, maybe a little too quickly. It was when he looked to the side that he caught the culprit - his godsdamned tail again. His hand snapped out, stilling it, but he knew that this time she'd definitely seen it. His heart hammered in his chest.

“Kingsley.” Her voice had softened. “What’s wrong?”

For a split second he considered lying, but the thought died quickly. Jester had already caught him, and... yeah, he didn't like lying to her. Not about important stuff at least. He took a deep breath and exhaled.

“I... I think the name talk might be wigging me out a little.” And he’d even been the one to bring it up in the first place.

“Do you want to talk about something else?”

Kingsley shook his head. “Nah, it’s just- Beau told me about the others changing their names, probably to try and make me feel better?” He ran a hand through his partially trimmed hair, while the thumb on his other hand worried at his nails. “And it helped but right now all I can think about is how I'm different. Caleb was a random alias that stuck, Veth was stuck in a different body, and you-” He gestured at her- “got a chance to really think about what you wanted. And all of you were still, well- you.”

Kingsley let out a sigh, hands dropping into his lap. “It’s... dumb but, I almost feel weirdly guilty about my name right now? I like it but I picked it when I didn’t remember and-”

“Kingsley no.” She reached forward and grabbed his hand with both of hers. “Don't ever feel guilty about that, okay?”

Kingsley jumped a little, surprised at her intensity. “I- okay?”

“You said you like your name, right?” Jester squeezed his hand.

A small pause. “Yes?”

“And you still believe in the reasons you picked your name?”

“...yyyes?”

“Then it's your name.” She held his gaze. “You can add to it if you want, but please don’t feel like you have to change it.” Her face softened again and she gave a small smile. “You’re allowed to like your name and who you are. That’s okay.” She patted the back of back of his hand. “And... maybe you can just think of it as your actual virtue name? If you want to. I was allowed to make that choice, and so can you. And you could totally just have two names if you wanted. It's up to you.”

It took several long moments for him just to process. “...Huh.” Thinking about the name Kingsley. Keeping it, but maybe now as a virtue name, a deliberate choice, showing who and what he wanted to be. Knowing he could still keep the other name too if he wanted. “Huh.” He nodded to himself. “Actually... yeah. I like that. I like that a lot. Thank you Jester.”

Jester finally grinned again, giving one more squeeze to his hand and a small nod in return. “Happy to help.”

She clambered back up to her spot on the bed, brushing his hair back to where it’d been before she’d climbed down. “Anything you want to talk about next?”

“I think I’d like to just relax for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds good to me!” Jester said.

Things settled into a comfortable sort of quiet, Jester humming a small tune and sounds of the ocean filtering in from the outside. That was one experience he'd never gotten to have before, at least, and it'd helped to serve as a good touchstone these past couple days. An easy dividing line for before and after. But in that moment, with the quiet intent work, someone else changing something on his body on his behalf, a new memory ran through his mind - or rather, new to him.

Sitting backwards on a chair, shirt off and resting his arms on the chair back, hair somehow even shorter than it was now. People talking around him, friendly, asking what he wanted and what he had in mind, before a prickling burning pain started on his right shoulder. The pain continuing down his arm, but there was a satisfaction to it, knowing that this scar, this tattoo was his own mark. Laying claim to a body that was unfamiliar and foreign, blotting out an eye that wouldn't stop staring and wouldn't go away.

That pain was distant now, separated not only by time but death and revival as well, but Kingsley still found himself looking down at the snake tattoo wrapping around his arm, the scales bordered and adorned by numerous scars. He hadn't paid much attention to it when he'd first woken up (outside of wondering about questionable decisions) or even really in the immediate time afterwards. Now it was almost like double vision looking at it - a tangible reminder of someone screaming to the world that he was alive, he was here, he existed.

He gave a quiet snort. A reminder of life, but it'd still stuck around when he was very much not alive and buried in the ground. Then again...

A few tufts of hair dropped onto his shoulder and Jester brushed them off for him, continuing to hum as she worked. Sure, he'd been dead and in the ground, but he wasn't anymore. And even when he hadn't remembered different things, the tattoos had still been there. Proof that Molly had existed.

Kingsley held up his right hand in front of him towards the light shining through the open door, examining the blank spot in the snake’s head, before flipping to his palm and looking at the blank spot there as well. He hadn't ever been bothered by those before - in fact, the sight had been a relief. But right now, those voids on his hand, scattered around other various body parts and tattoos... it was making him itch. It wasn’t complete.

“Hey Jester?” He continued to hold his hand in front of him, tail tapping on the floor.

“Hmmm?”

“You still practicing tattoos?”

Jester gave a little gasp. “Oh my gosh YES! I can-”

“Hair!” Kingsley yelled when he felt her start to move off the bed again. “Hair first!”

“Ack, okay, just-” There was a small scramble as she readjusted course, but soon enough she was back in place, Kingsley mercifully un-stabbed by flailing shears. “But you have to tell me what you’re thinking about!”

He laughed. “Okay, okay.”

His tail continued to tap on the floor as he thought, his left hand coming up to his chin. “So, we were just talking about names, right? And how Kingsley can be my virtue name, but I can still keep the other if I want?”

“Yeah?” Jester hadn't started cutting his hair again yet, too caught up in what he was saying.

He held his right hand up into her view, poking at the blank spot on its back. “I want to see if I can do something like that with these? If that makes sense? It sounded better in my head.”

A pause.

“... okay, I’m really sorry, I know you said hair first but I have to come back down there for this,” Jester said and she slid off the bed to plop down next to him, sketchbook somehow already in her hand. “Cause that idea is amazing and we gotta talk about it.”

Kingsley gave the most over the top sigh he could. “I guess I’m going to have half cut hair forever.”

“I know, I’m sorry, but I don’t want you to forget what you’re thinking about!”

He bumped his shoulder into hers, grinning. “Nah, I getcha. Just know it’ll be even longer until I ask about that story,” he said, winking.

This time, he was actually able to see Jester pouting at that.

“Fiiiine. Now tell me about the tattoos!!”

“Alright, alright, I'm getting there,” he said with another laugh, shifting his position to where it was more comfortable to talk.

“Okay, so, I know part of the reason these tattoos are here was to hide the red eyes.” He held up his right hand and wiggled his fingers. “It's great that they're gone but I kinda want to give them just one more f-you by filling them in with my own thing, make it look like it was supposed to be like that all along.”

“Oooo, I like it,” Jester said, starting to sketch out a replica of the snake on his hand and the associated blank spot. “Do you know what you want in there instead?”

“Hmm. Not really? The idea just popped into my head, so-” He gave a shrug. “We know there's nine of them at least.”

“Neeeeein!” Jester’s response was almost entirely out of habit, but a moment later her eyes widened, Kingsley broke out into a grin, and the two of the pointed at each other at the same time.

“Mighty Nein!” It was together but not at all in unison and the two of them dissolved into muffled laughter.

“That sounded terrible! I love it!”

“I knooow!” Jester said and she broke into further giggles. “But that could be it! Something with the Mighty Nein!”

“Picture this,” Kingsley said, gesturing dramatically with his palms facing down. “Instead of the eyes of nine we have... the eyes of NEEEIN!”

“YES!” Jester pumped her arms into the air. “It could even be in everyone’s eye colors! And little hidden designs inside if we want to get fancy!”

“Oh we always want to get fancy,” Kingsley said, showing off a fanged grin. “That settles it! Operation replace eyes of nine with the Mighty Nein is a go!”

“Awesome!!” Jester whipped her sketchbook up in front of her, poised to start drawing. “Let’s start with your Mighty Nein eye!”

Kingsley lifted his hand, ready to throw out ideas - and hesitated.

“... actually, the red might make things a little weird.”

Jester winced. “Ooooh, right. Maybe not.”

“But!” Kingsley said, perking up, “Yasha has two eye colors. So it’d still work either way. I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah!” Jester nodded, some of her enthusiasm returning. “And we can totally figure out some other stuff for now.” She wrote down a few notes in her sketchbook. “Do you know where you’d want people? Like, matching with tattoos, who’s near each other, that sort of thing?”

“I think I’ve got a couple in mind?” He tapped the back of his neck, where he knew the gap in the all seeing eye tattoo was. “Beau’s can go here. Can’t let her get the last word, after all,” he said, grinning, but there was something vulnerable to it.

The first time he had made the connection between Beau’s tattoo and the one on the back of his own neck his feelings had been... mixed. Weirdly flattered, but also feeling like a bit of a cheat, like he was taking credit for something he didn’t deserve. Now, though, he knew that there was no obligation to it. While they’d had their hiccups the Mighty Nein weren’t going to sacrifice him on the pyre of memory, and they loved him for who he was.

Him adding to the tattoo, wrapping it back around to being a tribute to Beau, assigning his own meaning away from hiding the somnovem? Kingsley rubbed the back of his neck, smile now softer. It would be his. Still building off of who he’d been before, that was still part of him, but now it could be his.

“That’s the only one I know for sure, right now. But I’ll keep thinking on the rest.”

Another nod. “Okay! Do you want to get the tattoos as you think of them? Or all at once? And do you want to tell anyone else about it before you do it?”

“All at once, works better to make sure they fit. Plus I don’t want to get accused of playing favorites,” he said with another grin. “As for the other... hmm. Input is nice, but I do like surprising people. I’d say that’s another think about it.”

“Got it!” Jester said, and he saw her starting to sketch the all seeing eye tattoo beside the snake head. “This is going to be amazing.”

“Of course it will, you’re involved.”

Jester ducked down behind the sketchbook a little but she was smiling as well. “If you say sooo.”

“I do. And Jester?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” He didn’t specify for what this time, but he figured it’d get through. There was still a lot he needed to figure out but now at least he had some new touchstones, the promise of even more in the future, and good company right in that moment. It was more than enough for him to be thankful for.

It did, however, seem like it was going to be awhile until he finished that haircut. But in the mean time...

“... okay, I’m too curious, Beau said I had to ask you about really early Xhorhas disguises?” Kingsley said and he saw Jester's face absolutely light up.

A few minutes later, over in his own cabin, Fjord swore and almost dropped something on his foot at Kingsley’s sudden loud cackling, and he just sighed and shook his head.

(Part Four)

#Critical Role #cr spoilers #Jester Lavorre #Kingsley Tealeaf #Mollymauk Tealeaf #Mollymauk #disaster tieflings #Critical Role fanfiction #my writing

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topsytervy · 3 years

Text

Wisdom Teeth ~ JJ Maybank

Blurb: JJ takes care of you after you get your wisdom teeth out. Not gonna lie, this post is kind of a mess

Word Count: 1,890

Warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, small mention of alcohol/drinking, I think that’s it.

I’m just going to say that this is based off of my wisdom teeth experience. I didn’t get gassed or put under, my moms friend suggested me holding alcohol in my mouth cause she did that when she got hers out and it worked for her (it worked for me enough to let me sleep like the dead, and my mom kept laughing at me.

I aged JJ and the reader to 19 cause why not.

I also lowkey started thinking of JJ taking care of his kids after their wisdom teeth get pulled and thats shows in the ending.

anyway, small shoutout to @taylathornton who got me thinking about this after she said something about JJ or Rafe taking care of the reader when they get their wisdom teeth out.

~~~~

You walked out into the waiting room, gauze on either side of your mouth, your boyfriend standing by the counter as someone gave him the same rundown they gave you post-extraction.

JJ smiled as he saw you, not that you could see with the mask over the bottom half of his face, and pulled you into his side.

"Just remember that if you still feel pain while taking the prescription he gave you today, call back and he'll prescribe you something stronger." the lady said.

You nodded as you shoved the sheet filled with the instructions, prescriptions, and the extra gauze they gave you into JJ's hands. JJ said a quick thank you to the lady and then directed you to the door, every penny being covered by your insurance.

Thank God.

"How do you feel, princess?" He asked, intertwining your fingers together.

"You didn't tell me the extraction was such a violent process." You told him.

Well, attempted to tell him but the gauze in your mouth wasn't helping. The mask definitely added to muffling your voice.

JJ chuckled. "What?" He asked, unlocking the truck.

"You didn't tell me the extraction was such a violent process." You said slower, louder, and slightly more enunciated.

JJ helped you into the truck. "Didn't want to scare you, Y/N/N."

"I can do it myself. I wasn’t gassed or anything. Just numbed." You swatted his hand away as he went to buckle you in.

He held up his hands. "Alright. I'm sorry."

"Besides the lady said that I was surprisingly calm during the process." You informed him as you took off your mask.

"That's good." He closed the door and walked over to the driver’s side, climbing in as he also took off his mask. "Since you were so good during the process, how about you remind me in a week to take you to Dairy Queen and we'll get you some ice cream." He suggested, leaning over the center console and brushing some hair out of your face.

"Can I get chicken tenders too?" You asked, looking at your blonde boyfriend with the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

JJ let out a laugh as he started the truck and began to pull out of the parking lot. "Yeah. You can get chicken tenders too, princess."

You smiled, reaching into your mouth to readjust the blood-soaked gauze only to have JJ swat your hand away. "Don't."

"But I feel like I’m swallowing the gauze every time I go to swallow my saliva." You whined.

JJ sighed. "That’s because the roof of your mouth is swollen so it makes it difficult to swallow the saliva. Just leave the gauze where it is."

You shot JJ a look before bringing your hand to your mouth again. JJ reached over and grabbed your wrist his eyes never leaving the road.

"Y/N." He warned.

"JJ." You imitated.

"I said don't touch it."

You took your wrist away from him and crossed your arms, looking out the window.

"Keep that up and you won’t get dairy queen next week. I'll get myself dairy queen and you can keep eating soup and mashed potatoes."

"You're so mean to me sometimes, J." You whispered.

"Only cause I love you and care about you, baby." He smiled, his hand going to your thigh and giving it a light squeeze.

You uncrossed your arms and took his hand in yours. "You're so sweet."

JJ shook his head. "Flip-floppy today, huh. 3 seconds ago I was mean and now I'm sweet."

You shrugged. "You're a flip-floppy guy. You threw me off the dock once when it was chilly outside and then gave me clothes to change into not even three minutes later."

"That's called being a gentleman." He smirked.

"No. It's called being an asshole with a heart."

JJ snorted as he pulled into the pharmacy parking lot, pulling into a parking space before throwing the truck in park and grabbed his wallet along with your prescriptions.

"Stay here. I’ll be back." He kissed your temple before putting his mask back on, adjusting it so it was over his nose.

You shot him a thumbs-up as you pulled out your phone, taking the time to reply to Kie and Sarah who wanted to check in on you. They both offered to come over and take care of you but you told them you were fine cause you had JJ with you.

Kie immediately replied with a 'that's why we're offering.'

You let out a small giggle before sending them an 'I'm sure JJ can handle it' before locking your phone and pulling down the sun visor to look in the mirror.

You opened your mouth and made a face as you looked at the inside of your mouth and saw the dried blood on your lips.

JJ opened the door and slid back into the driver’s seat, placing the bag with the two pill bottles in your lap. "You know, technically you’re supposed to keep pressure on the gauze for an hour so it clot and shit."

"You didn't tell me the inside of my mouth looks like it’s having its own little period. I smiled at you with my mouth looking like I took a baseball or something to the teeth." You scolded.

"Princess, and I mean this with all the love in my heart, you look like a hockey player who took a puck to the teeth." JJ laughed as he put the car in drive and made his way to the grocery store.

"JJ," you whined, not finding his comparison cute in the slightest.

"What? It's more accurate than the baseball comparison you said."

"Stop laughing at me, J. It's not funny."

"I'm sorry. You're just so whiney right now and it's adorable to me. Makes me want to bundle you up and hold you in my arms and protect you from all the evil in the world." JJ glanced at you. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked out the window. “Y/N, don’t be like this now.”

“You’re being mean to me.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are. I’m over here bleeding, preparing for the numbness to wear off and the pain to set in and you’re laughing at me.”

JJ grabbed your hand and pressed it to his lips. “I’m sorry, baby. Can you accept me buying you soup as my way of asking for your forgiveness?”

He stopped at a stop sign and looked over at you, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

You sighed. "I suppose."

He grinned as he squeezed your hand lightly. “See, you can’t stay mad at me forever, Y/N/N.”

You rolled your eyes before leaning your head against the headrest. “It’s because I need you to take care of me while I’m healing.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. As much as I love Kie and Sarah, I don’t think their cuddles can compare to yours.”

JJ nodded. “Fair enough. That’s all you need me for? Cuddles?”

You shrugged. “We’ll see.”

****

Within two hours, you were tearing up as the numbness wore off, the pain coming in at full force. You laid on the couch in the living room of the apartment you and JJ shared, a blanket thrown over your body.

JJ walked over with a glass of water and the pills you were prescribed. “Alright, here’s your amoxicillin, and here’s your ibuprofen.” He handed you the pills as you sat up.

You popped the two pills into your mouth, taking the glass of water from your boyfriend’s hand before taking a sip and swallowing the pills. JJ took the glass from you and set it on the end table as you sniffed.

“You know what might help?” JJ asked, walking over to one of the cabinets and opening it.

“What?”

“I know you’re not a big drinker, Y/N, but I remember Mr. Heyward telling me when I got my wisdom teeth out that, if you take vodka, whiskey, tequila, whatever, and kind of hold it in your mouth, tilting your head left and right, it’ll help with the pain. It almost renumbs it and because it’s alcohol, it also helps fight infections.” JJ explained, grabbing the bottle of vodka he had stashed away.

He grabbed a shot glass and filled it up before bringing it over to you.

“JJ, baby, I don’t think I should be having alcohol after taking a 600 mg ibuprofen and a 500 mg amoxicillin. Besides, I’m pretty sure that’s what the amoxicillin is for anyway.”

JJ sighed. “I know, princess, but I’m trying to help you out here. It hurts me to see you hurting.”

“And just two hours ago you were saying it was cute when I’m all whiney.” You joked.

“You are cute when you’re whiney and not in pain. Now you’re just in pain and I don’t like it.”

You looked at JJ with a frown. “How about we just cuddle for the rest of the day? Maybe take a nap because I’m all tuckered out.”

JJ smiled lightly, downing the shot of vodka before heading over to you and picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as your arms snaked around his neck, him holding you up by your thighs. He carried you into your bedroom, taking one of his hands and pulling back the blankets before gently setting you down and tucking you in.

He climbed in on his side, gently pulling you into his side, putting a pillow on top of his upper arm so you weren’t resting on his arm, knowing that it wouldn’t help the pain at all.

“Comfortable, princess?” He asked.

You hummed in response, your arm draping across his stomach.

He kissed the top of your head, brushing your hair away from your face.

“I’m sorry in advance if I drool on you. I’m even more sorry if it’s bloody drool.” You muttered.

“It’s alright. You can drool on me whenever you want, bloody or not.”

You smiled. “And Kie and Sarah were worried about you taking care of me.”

JJ scoffed. “I always take care of you so Kie and Sarah can shove a sock in it.”

You giggled. “It’s okay, baby. I defended you and your ability to take care of me.”

“I would hope so. After all, I’m buying you Dairy Queen next week. I don’t buy Dairy Queen for anybody, you know.”

“I know.” You sighed.

It was quiet for a few minutes and you were almost asleep before JJ spoke again.

“You gotta eat your soup and mashed potatoes though or else you don’t get chicken tenders next week.”

You let out a laugh. “Oh my god, JJ. You sound like my dad when I had to go get shots.”

“That just means I’m prepared for when we have kids. The whole bribery part of parenting, in the bag.” JJ stated with a nod.

You nodded. “Alright, baby. I can’t wait to tell our kids how you knew you were ready to be a father because you told me a week after my wisdom teeth were removed, you were going to buy me chicken tenders and ice cream.”

JJ smiled. “And I can’t wait to be saying the same thing to them when they get their wisdom teeth out.”

~~~~~~

#jj outer banks #jj maybank #jj obx

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lonelyreputation · 4 years

Text

Trick or Treat (Dad!Shawn) MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🔮

A/N: Happy Halloween! Thought it would be nice be have a little festive fic to celebrate 🎃👻🦇🌖🧟‍♂️

Summary: It’s the first time you and Shawn take your son trick-or-treating 🧛🏻‍♂️🕸👨🏼‍🚒

Warnings: None!

WC: 2.4K // Fluff

It was the first time your kid was really old enough to understand the concept of Halloween. After his preschool teacher held a Halloween party for the class where they all dressed up, traded candy, and played musical chairs to the Monster Mash…Your son became a Halloween enthusiast.

Your son, Aiden, bugged you and Shawn to go Trick-or-Treating––but Daddy! Charlie’s going!––He threw a tantrum in his carseat when Shawn picked him up from school. And when they got home, after a tiny time out, Shawn and your son talked about Trick-or-Treating.

It wasn’t that Shawn didn’t want to take his son out…It was more that he enjoyed a night in with his family more. So far, every Halloween was spent sitting in the driveway, with a fire pit, with his little family as kids from the neighborhood came up for candy. He also liked when Aiden would sit on his lap and cuddle in close to him as they felt the warmth of the fire.

And Shawn knew that when his kid started Trick-or-Treating, it would speed up the process of him growing up even more.

But once everything was settled to go Trick-or-Treating, then came the dilemma of both of you wanting to go with your son since it would be his first time. Your parents were out of town, and it was Shawn’s parents anniversary, so you couldn’t ask them.

So, it only left Aaliyah.

You knew she probably had better plans than to sit at her brother’s house and give out candy, but she was your last hope. Shawn begged and pleaded with his younger sister to give out candy, bribing her with whatever she wanted. And while it took a lot of convincing on Shawn’s end, Aaliyah just wanted to see her brother grovel.

Even though they were both not teenagers anymore, they still acted like it.

You were buttoning up Aiden’s yellow fireman jacket when you heard your husband whine from the doorway.

“Where’s your costume?”

Still buttoning his little jacket, you looked up to see Shawn in his costume. You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. Standing with a pout in the doorway, Shawn was dressed in black pants, a white dress shirt under a black vest, a black cape––with a red underside––tied around his neck, as he gelled back his hair.

Shawn took out his fake fangs, “I thought we were both dressing up?”

You rolled your eyes at your husband, patting your sons shoulders when you were done buttoning up his shirt, placing the red firefighter hat on him, “I’m going as an exhausted mother to a three-year-old.”

Shawn slumped his shoulders, “You are an exhausted mother to a three-year-old,” he sighed, “That’s not a costume.”

You raised both of your eyebrows at him and Shawn held his hands up in defense of his smart talk.

“Mommy,” Aiden tugged on your sweatshirt, “What is ex-asted?”

You glared at Shawn again before kneeling down to be face-face-with your son, “It means that I love you very much.”

Aiden’s eyes lit up and you melted at his smile, “So you always love me?”

You nodded your head and kissed his cheek before standing up, “I’ll always always love you.”

When you looked to your side, you saw Shawn with a soft smile on his face, with adoration written all over his eyes as he stared at his little family. You could tell he was lost in his thoughts, but then Aiden spoke up, bringing him back into the moment.

“Is Daddy ex-asted?”

Shawn’s smile dropped and you let out a loud laugh. You smirked at Shawn, who now glared at you, before looking down at your son who had his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, “He’s always exhausted.”

And like before, your son’s eyes lit up and he clapped his hands together, thinking that it meant that his dad would always love him, “I’m ex-asted too!”

Both you and Shawn let out a laugh at your son’s misunderstanding of the word. And while you both did your best to educate your kid when he asked what something meant…He was only three, and his reactions were too cute to let him know what the actual word meant.

“Are you really not dressing up?” Shawn asked with a hint of sadness in his tone.

You looked over at him and saw that he really wanted you to dress up. The eyes you fell in love with were wide and pleading with you to uphold your end of the promise. And with a reluctant sigh, you nodded your head, and Shawn’s eyes lit up.

You walked past him and quickly pecked his lips, with your son yelling out a loud––yuck!––as you smiled, “Give me a minute.”

Shawn proudly smiled as you walked out of your son’s room and into your own. Inside your closet, you thought about what last minute costume you could put together. Your eyes landed on balck leggings, and a very simple idea popped into your head.

Changing out of your jeans to black leggings, you also swapped the sweatshirt of Shawn’s you were wearing for a long-sleeved black t-shirt and threw on a black sweatshirt on top. Once you slipped on a pair of black sneakers, you walked into your bathroom to draw a black circle on your nose, with whiskers on your cheek.

Satisfied with your lazily put together costume, you walked out of your room and down the stairs, where you saw Shawn explaining the rules of the night to your son.

“You always hold either Mommy or Daddy’s hand,” Shawn said as Aiden nodded, “Always say please and thank you after you get candy from a house,” Aiden nodded his head, “And you don’t run off.” Aiden nodded his head again.

Once Shawn was done explaining the rules of the night, he turned around and stopped when he saw your costume. He blinked a few times, “That’s your costume?”

“Mommy, you’re a kitty!” Aiden giggled as he climbed down from the barstool and raced over to hug your legs.

You playfully glared up at Shawn before you bent down to give your son a real hug. He wrapped his tiny arms around your neck––so tight––that you had to pull away after a few seconds of not being able to breathe.

You smiled down at Aiden who looked about ready to burst. So you grabbed the plastic pumpkin off the counter and handed it to your son, “Ready for Trick-or-Treating?”

Aiden shouted a very loud, “yes!” As he took the pumpkin from your grasp and ran toward the front door.

“Aiden, what were the rules?!” Shawn raised his voice just a little, not out of anger, but so that his son could hear him from the other room.

You and Shawn walked to the foyer, where AIden had his hand on the door knob, and he looked up at his dad with wide eyes, “Sorry, Daddy.” And he reached out to hold Shawn’s hand.

Shawn smiled down at his son and happily took his hand, “It’s no problem, we just don’t want you getting hurt.”

And with that, you opened the door and felt the soft breeze of the Canadian air hit your face. The wind picked up some of the fallen leaves and they crunched under your feet when you walked outside to shut the door behind your family.

When you looked down, you saw the jack-o-lanterns you carved with Shawn, your son was only interested in digging out the slimy pumpkin seeds. And when you picked your head up, you noticed that some families had already gotten a head start on Halloween. The sun was still up, slowly setting behind the trees, and it was the time where all the younger kids went out with their parents before bedtime.

You walked out to the driveway where Aaliyah was sitting on a chair from the patio Shawn brought out front for her to sit on. Kids were just leaving from getting candy from your house when she turned her head to see you all coming out.

“Oh my God,” her mouth dropped as she looked between the three of you, “Aiden your costume is so cool!”

Aiden smiled, showing all his teeth, “Thanks LiLi,” you could see Aaliyah melt at the nickname your son gave her when he was younger because he couldn’t properly say Aaliyah.

“I need a picture,” she whipped out her phone, “Mom will absolutely cry at this.”

Shawn rolled his eyes, “Is that really a good idea?” But as he said it, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close to his side. And he brought Aiden around in front of you both, still holding his hand.

“On three say Trick or Treat!” Aaliyah happily said as Aiden eagerly nodded his head, “One, two, three––”

“Trick-or-Treat!” All three of you said, with Aiden’s voice drowning out yours and Shawn’s voice, as everyone smiled.

Aaliyah smiled down at her phone saying she would send it to both of you. Thanking her was cut off short when you saw Shawn get dragged up the driveway by your son.

“Let’s go!” Aiden laughed as he tried his hardest to run, while still holding onto Shawn’s hand.

You saw Aaliyah pull out her phone again and snap another picture.

Following your excited son up the driveway, you walked the short way to your neighbors house. Aiden excitedly knocked on the door and rang the doorbell. When the family next door opened the door Aiden brightly smiled and shouted, “Trick or Treat!”

Your neighbor gushed at his costume and even complimented Shawn’s costume, who proudly smiled because you knew he put a lot of effort into making your son's first Halloween memorable.

Once you left your neighbors house, Aiden excitedly looked up at Shawn and shook his bucket, “Candy!”

Shawn let out an over dramatic gasp, “Already so much!” You let out a soft laugh because there were only three mini pieces of candy.

Aiden proudly smiled and continued to drag Shawn along to the next house. When he got candy from there, he looked up at Shawn again, and showed him the inside of his bucket.

As the three of you were walking to your your third house of the night, Aiden started singing, “Trick or Treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat––”

“Aiden!” You chastised your son who sang the opening to a crude Halloween jingle.

He looked up at you with wide eyes, quickly apologizing before placing the blame on your husband, “Daddy was singing it!”

You glared at Shawn who just shrugged his shoulders as the three of you walked down another drive way, “Old habits die hard.”

That continued on for nearly another hour and a half. Aiden would ring the doorbell, or walk up to a family sitting in their driveway, and excitedly shout Trick or Treat.

It was getting later, the sky turning a light shade of purple mixed with some dark blue swirls. And you could tell by how your son no longer dragged Shawn’s hand to another house that he was worn out. Aiden was leaning against Shawn and you saw his eyes droop down.

“Is it bedtime?” You briefly looked up at Shawn, who stopped walking. He nodded his head at you, before looking back down at Aiden.

Aiden shook his head against Shawn’s leg, “More candy.”

You let out a laugh and took his plastic pumpkin from him, “It looks like you have a lot of candy already.”

Aiden shook his head again, voice sounding groggy, “More.”

“I’m sure LiLi saved some candy for you,” Shawn said as he placed both hands under Aiden’s armpits and lifted him up. Immediately, Aiden wrapped his arms and legs around Shawn’s waist, and rested his head on his shoulder.

You took off his plastic red firefighter hat, so it wouldn’t fall off, and Aiden snuggled his head further into Shawn’s neck. You smiled at the sight and looked up to see Shawn already smiling at you.

“Well,” you said as you continued to walk around your neighborhood, “Looks like he’s already asleep.”

Shawn nodded, holding in a laugh, since he didn’t want to wake up his son, “First Halloween in the books.”

“Pretty soon he’ll be in high school asking to go to a party instead of Trick-or-Treating with his parents.” You let out a laugh because it was the general way Halloween went when you grew up. But when you looked to your side, Shawn was not laughing.

“He won’t be going to any parties,” Shawn grumbled, “He’ll be giving out candy with me.”

You rolled your eyes and walked closer to him, taking Shawn’s free hand in yours, “That’s a long way off, he’s only three.”

“I want him to stay this age forever,” Shawn whispered as you turned onto your street.

You squeezed his hand, “So do I.”

The walk back to your house was done in silence, as the both of you appreciated the night you had with your son. Aaliyah was still outside when you returned and she smiled as she saw her nephew fast asleep on her brother’s shoulder.

“Mom called me up crying after I sent her the picture,” Aaliyah laughed.

Shawn rolled his eyes and sat down in the extra chair he made sure to bring out before they left. He knew it would be an early night, and part of why Halloween was his favorite holiday was that he was able to sit by the fire with his son.

Aaliyah stood up, draping the blanket she was curled up in, over Shawn so Aiden wouldn’t be cold.

You moved the other empty chair right up to Shawn and ran your fingers up and down Aiden’s back. He squirmed a bit and you saw him pick his head up from Shawn’s shoulder, “Daddy?”

“Shh,” Shawn hushed him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, “You can go back to sleep.”

Aiden sniffled a bit, curling his hand in a fist and rubbing his left eye, as he turned to face Aaliyah, “LiLi, do you have candy for me?”

All three of you laughed and Aaliyah nodded your head, “I’ve got loads of candy for you,” she then leaned in, keeping her voice low, even though she knew both of you could hear, “But don’t tell your parents.”

Aiden nodded before placing his head back onto Shawn’s shoulder. It wasn’t until Shawn felt his son’s even breathing that he knew he was asleep. And even though Shawn didn’t want his son to grow up anymore than you did, he couldn’t wait to take his son Trick-or-Treating next year.

Taglist: @adelaidestreets, @alilovesshawn, @alina--jpeg, @fallinallincurls, @lights-on-mendes, @mendesficsxbombay, @particularnarry, @shawnmendez, @shawnsreputation, @turtoix, @vinylmendes, @5-seconds-of-mendes, @pupsandducks @musicalkeys, @madatmendes @im-salt-but-not-salty @sunkisseddreamer, @crossedties @fortheloveoftheaussies, @illuminatepotter , @par_r, @perfectlywrongsm @lovelysunset1

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come-on-shitty-boys · 4 years

Text

//ready player two. kozume kenma//

Request: Gamer bf Kenma where gamer gf is struggling to defeat a final boss and Kenma pulls her in his laps and helps her defeat it

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.1K

Notes: i simply had to do this one bc your bitch just ordered Risk of Rain 2 and i’m S O E X C I T E D gamer bf kenma pls come help me beat mithrix ;-;

Your eyes had been trained on the screen for what felt like hours, knees pulled to your chest and your fingers moved expertly over the controls, headphones pulled down over your ears so the sounds of you ruthlessly murdering monsters wouldn’t bother him while he tried to complete his school work. But, the sun of the afternoon that had once flooded his room with natural light, had now faded into inky blackness, the only light came from his desk lamp and the flashes of color from the television stream. He had heard your curses and grumbles of frustration slowly increase as the time ticked by and the death counter slowly climbed.

He could hear the clicking of the buttons furiously beneath your fingers as you moved your avatar through the level once more, shooting down any bad guys that came in your path, collecting loot and xp to give you a greater advantage over the final boss. But, it still wasn’t enough. Because after about fifteen minutes, he heard the clicking stop and you leaned backwards, a heavy groan that mixed frustration and anguish left your lips as you laid back on his floor, letting the controller fall to the floor. You weren’t even sure how long you had been sitting there, long enough for your backside to begin to ache and long enough for Kenma to finally shut the cover of his math book as he circled the answer to the final problem.

Your boyfriend slowly turned around his chair to take a good look at your defeated form, the game over screen staring almost painfully in your face and by your blank expression as you stared up at the ceiling, he could guess that this was not the first one that you had experienced. “This game sucks,” you grumble.

“Is that why you've been playing for the past four hours?” he teased, moving to lay on his bed so that he could look at your face.

“I don’t want to talk about it. . .”

Kenma gave you a smile, something that became less and less rare during your time with him. You, by no means, were bringing him out of his shell or making him any less of an introvert, but even he couldn’t deny the wave of comfort that washed over him anytime you were around. You could hold his hand and all of his worries would instantly melt away, focusing on the feeling of your skin against his. Kenma had never been one for physical touch, but there was just something about holding your back square to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you both hold onto your respective controllers, tapping away at buttons, that made him like the idea of contact just a little more. Blankets and sweaters were great, but you were an addiction that he never wanted to quit. It never failed that he felt like a whole new person whenever he was with you, something that maybe only Kuroo had made him feel before. But, he found that he enjoyed being able to let smiles spread across his lips and that he wanted his stomach to hurt from laughing as you both breathlessly wheezed on his bedroom floor. But, he also found that he liked the way your lips melded so perfectly with his, your hands gripping his arms as if he would disappear into nothingness if you let go. He liked how nicely your head fit into the crook of his neck whenever you curled into him for a nap, your soft snores becoming his favorite background noise.

You released a heavy sigh as you sat back up, taking the controller back between your hands for another go at the level that had taken you down so many times. “Tenth times the charm, right?”

Kenma simply hummed, taking a spot next to you on the floor, leaning forward to grab the second controller from the shelf. “I’ll take the player two spot.” He leans back so he’s nestled against his bed, one hand reaching out towards your waist, his silent signal for you to move closer. Without any further prompting, you took your seat in his lap, his arms instinctively wrapping around you to hold his controller while his chin settled on your shoulder to be able to view the screen.

You lean against his chest, feeling the rise and fall with each breath he takes. His forearms are rested against your thighs, tracing small shapes into the skin with his fingers while he waits for you to press start. But, as soon as the game begins, he’s zeroed in, thumbs rapidly pushing the different buttons to maneuver his avatar through the stage, killing enemies that would have resulted in another loss for you, muttering quiet tips on how to better use your attacks depending on the enemy type, which items were worth your time and which you should just leave behind.

“There we go, angel,” he says as the stage ends and you’re both taken to the lair of the final boss. “You got this. I’m right behind you to help you out, okay?” He tilts his head up to place a soft kiss to your cheek. Whenever the two of you sat like this, he was always really glad that you could never see just how red his cheeks turned whenever he would press his lips to your skin.

You just nodded, pressing the button that would take your avatars into the resting place of the boss. The cutscene played before your eyes and, almost immediately, the two of you were locked in a ferocious battle, mashing buttons to evade and attack, heal and defend, trying your very best to finally make it out alive. The heightened intensity of the music drew you both in, keeping your eyes fixated on the screen as if you were both physically engaged in the fight.

It was only when the sound of the boss’ defeat sang through your ears and the tune switched to something a little more cheery as the credits rolled across the screen did you turn in your boyfriend’s lap, throwing your arms around his neck in glee. “We did it! Kenma, we did it!”

“We? You carried that boss fight.” While his words might’ve had their typical monotonous demeanor, there was no hiding the soft smile on his lips as he looked up at you, eyes shining brightly with your accomplishment.

“Thanks for being my player two, Kenma.”

{Taglist: @moncymonce @nicka-nell @celosiiaa @lovinnoya @kuronekomama }

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failedintsave · 3 years

Text

I tried the MTL pairing generator for rarepair month...aaaand it told me to stay in my lane lol. And then it told me to write some Rachel/Roy Cornickleson which I just don't think I'm ready to take on 🙃 So here's some Skwistok set just before Doomstar that I've been fiddling with.

(gets just a little nsfw near the beginning)

Stages

Everyone handles grief differently.

Skwisgaar groaned as muscular arms pushed him against the wall, the reinforced metal door to his room on the submarine banging shut as they cleared the threshold. Hands tangled in his hair, holding him in place while lips and tongue and teeth worked over his neck. He clung desperately to the body pressed against him, fingers twisting in blue cotton material and yanking it upward. The mouth latched onto his throat pulled away as the t-shirt was hauled over his head and Toki's fevered eyes found his before rushing forward again, mashing their lips together with sloppy abandon. He gripped Skwisgaar by the belt, half dragging him as they stumbled their way to his bunk and collapsed. Breathing came in gasps and sighs as Toki's weight pinned him down into the mattress, the pressure both exhilarating and mollifying, an anchor to hold onto as the life he'd known for so many years turned upside down and twisted away in the wind.

He'd never given much energy to grief. Life was just a punctuated string of losses in the long run. Loss of innocence, loss of trust, loss of opportunities. It was all meaningless, really. In his experience, something new always came along to fill the space so why dwell on mourning what you couldn't have back?

Boots thumped to the floor, kicked off in haste. His shirt was peeled away before sturdy hands lifted his hips to free him of his jeans, calloused fingertips gliding back up his thighs and making him shiver. Toki climbed up to kiss him again, hungrily, as if trying to swallow him whole, their teeth knocking against each other. Skwisgaar ran his hands over every inch of skin he could reach, the hard lines of Toki's shoulders, the raised ridges of overlapping scars on his back, hip bones where they ground down against his own. Heat pooled low in his belly like magma aching to erupt. He wanted this, needed this right now, more than he'd ever needed anything in his life. How long had they danced around this, stealing moments and blaming it later on booze or post-show adrenaline, walking right up to the line and peeking over before backing away again? In the name of preserving band dynamics? A lot of good that had done, they'd still ended up where they are now, Dethklok tipping over the precipice into self-destruction.

Another loss to add to the list.

Toki pulled back, glacier blue eyes raking over Skwisgaar's features with manic light, chestnut locks of hair falling in disarray to frame his face. Skwisgaar reached up and tucked a strand behind his ear and Toki's expression shifted, the wild yearning softened into something gentler, less wolfish. He sat up to kneel between Skwisgaar's legs, hand skimming from his collar bone to his navel and leaving a trail of fire, over the inside of his thigh and dipping beneath, pausing until Skwisgaar breathed his assent, whispered his name.

Fingers tested gingerly, gradually increasing in depth and pressure before he gripped him by the waist and hauled him onto his lap. Skwisgaar canted his hips, lip catching between his teeth at the feel of Toki against him, his pulse hammering in his ears. His head angled back into the pillows and a wordless moan escaped his throat when Toki eased forward, back arching as lightning raced up his spine. Skwisgaar's fingers knotted in the bed sheets as Toki released a shuddering breath over him, rocking into him slowly, building rhythm into a steady push and pull.

Loss of professional boundaries. Definitely not something to be mourned.

The devastating sensation of fullness where they joined drove all coherent thought from Skwisgaar's mind and his eyes rolled back under closed lids, panting nonsense and expletives, begging for release. His toes curled as Toki matched stokes with his hand to the tempo of his thrusts, coaxing him through his climax until tipping over the edge after him with a whining sigh. Call and response, Skwisgaar thought dazedly as his superheated skeleton melted into jelly. When he could open his eyes again, his gaze landed on Toki's face above him, watching him with an openly heartsick expression.

"I… hads to do dat… at least once before dis ams all over." The broken whisper settled over him like a burial shroud.

Skwisgaar shook his head, holding out his arms. "Come heres."

Swallowing thickly, Toki obeyed, winding his arms under Skwisgaar's shoulders and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Skwisgaar shifted to find a comfortable position, their sweat-slick chests sliding against each other as he angled slightly onto one side, hand cradling Toki's skull to keep him near.

"Seem pretties stupids we aments been doing dat dis whole time, honestlies."

Loss of time.

Toki held him tightly and Skwisgaar felt the tremor in his grip. He rubbed his cheek against the crown of the other man's head, humming tunelessly as he waited for him to speak, knowing already the fears plaguing his mind. He'd faced them often enough in his younger days, even if the scenario now was more complicated. It was hard to compare wondering where your next gig, your next meal ticket, might come from to wondering where to go after you'd already stood at the top.

Sniffling preceded the feeling of wetness against his shoulder, Toki mumbling against his skin. "What happens now? Ams we all just gonna says 'fucks you, see ya laters' now dat de band ams done? Even now dat dey tells us we gots to plays music to saves de world?"

Skwisgaar fiddled with a strand of brown hair for a moment before answering. "Well, I don'ts know abouts all dis saves-de-woirld business. But whats I do know ams band break ups. And, euughh, ja dat ams a pretty standords opseratings procedures."

"But does it has to be likes dat? We coulds all stays pals, right?"

"Dat ams...compslickateds." He dropped the lock and let his hand fall to Toki's shoulders. "Somet'ing like dis...people tends to ezpecks yous to euughh, picks sides. It ams messy. And it never warks out, t'ings always comes apart in de end."

Loss of the longest working relationships he'd had in his life.

Toki said nothing, so Skwisgaar continued if only to fill the silence. "But it coulds be worse, you knows? We gots more moneys den god, what's so bad what cants be fixed wif dat?" The statement produced a cold feeling trickling down behind his ribs, like swallowing a heaping spoonful of snow. "Nones of it acktualies matters. Just goes on to da next t'ings."

"I just... don'ts know what to does if dere aments a Dethklok."

"Whatevors you wants! You coulds buy de whole stores of airplane models, or you coulds builds you own splasharoonies water parks. Hell you coulds probablies starts a new bands wif dose guys from dat T'underhorse group."

"No," Toki murmured, face still compressed against Skwisgaar's neck. "I don't wants a new band. Dis was da one."

The possessive satisfaction he felt at those words tied his stomach in guilty knots.

"Ja it ams was a pretty good gigs…"

Toki shifted, laying his head on the pillow next to Skwisgaar's, his forlorn gaze searching his face for answers. Skwisgaar rolled so they were laying face to face, legs still twisted under the sheets.

Not everything was tied up in the feud that caused the band to split. What if it didn't have to be a total loss? Surely there were parts here that could be salvaged.

"Okej...so who says we haves to do anyt'ings at all?"

Toki's brows cinched. "What you means?"

Maybe, just this one thing, he could keep.

Skwisgaar's lips curved with the ghost of a smile. "I's already mades it to de top, ams de fastest guitarist alives...coulds be I shoulds just quits while I gots de title, ja? Retires, takes my ball and goes home wif it."

Toki snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Builds mineself a giant house up in de mountains or somet'ing. Or travels and just fucks off on de resgiduals forever, not worries about a deadlines or demos ever again. Plays guitar just for funs."

He saw his grin mirrored on Toki's face as the other man nodded dreamily.

"Maybe you...comes wif me?" Fluttery nerves tickled behind his sternum. "If you wants to."

Toki's eyes widened. "Wait. Whats?"

Just this. He could be happy with this.

"Y-you means it? You aments just messings with Toki?"

He shook his head. "How long dids we waste before nows? For not'ing. I'm sick ofs waitings. Let's just goes."

A heartbeat passed, and then Toki's mouth was on his again. Less frantic this time, hopeful rather than desperate. He cradled Toki's jaw, taking his time as he returned his affections, deepening the kiss and tracing languid strokes over his neck, his shoulders, his chest. Their limbs wound together in a twisted bramble, bodies drawing tightly together, fitting like puzzle pieces.

A repetitive, discordant riff sounded from the pile of clothes abandoned on the floor and Toki's head jerked away. Flashing an apologetic grin, he rolled away to fish his phone from his pocket, sliding his pants up loosely around his hips.

"Sorries, be rights back!" He whispered, pressing the screen to answer. "Oh hei, Rockso!*

"Hows do you even has signals down here?" Skwisgaar called after him as he stepped into the hall, then flopped back onto the pillows to stare at the ceiling, counting the shiny rivets in the metal plating.

This was doable. Tomorrow they would bury more than just a mentor, they would lay to rest their careers as the biggest metal band in existence. The world at large would mourn their passing, but Skwisgaar wouldn't dwell on what's done and over. Not if he had new prospects to look forward to. Something always came along, and he never looked back.

"I tolds Magnus dat I woulds sit wif hims tomorrow." He heard Toki's muffled voice through the crack he'd left in the door.

A shadow passed over his thoughts at the name, like someone walking across his grave. It was uncomfortable to say the least, to have their former guitarist back in the fringes of their lives. Toki had a habit of finding friendship in questionable places, but where the clown was mostly an annoyance and sometimes a financial drain, his relationship with Magnus left Skwisgaar apprehensive. It didn't ease his mind when Toki insisted the older musician was different now. How could he know? He hadn't lived with the man, hadn't walked on eggshells during every rehearsal or songwriting session, hadn't watched as he plunged a knife into a bandmate.

But Magnus had also saved Toki with his insulin. He'd been there for Toki as a shoulder to lean on when the band had started to fall apart, too preoccupied with their own issues to spare a minute for their youngest member.

So maybe Toki was right. Things change; he'd never expected that a wedge could be driven between Nathan and Pickles far enough to end their friendship in such a catastrophic way, but here they were. And if Magnus still harbored any resentment for the band, their breakup was probably a balm to the old wound of rejection. What else could he wish on them? He was probably loving this.

The door scraped shut and Toki slipped back into the blankets gingerly, as if expecting Skwisgaar to be asleep. When he saw that he was still awake, Toki leaned in with a grin.

"Sorries...now, where was we…?" He murmured, capturing Skwisgaar's lips tenderly. "Oh ja, you was tellings me how we's gonna runs away togedders into de sunsets."

"Pfff. Dat am hardlies what I saids."

More kisses peppered his cheek and jaw. "Dats what I heards."

"Well I always knew yous was tone deafs, I didn'ts realize you ams just all de way hards of hearingks." His arm encircled Toki's back as the brunette nestled in again.

"Tells to me about wheres we gonna goes. Tells me about our house on tops of de mountains."

Skwisgaar snorted. Of the two of them, his was not the more vivid and fanciful imagination. But staring up at the blank canvas that the brushed metal panels of ceiling created, he envisioned a future for them to share. They squabbled playfully over locations and home design styles. They named off outlandish things they would fill their home with, like an even bigger ruby metronome or a trampoline room or an indoor pool shaped like a guitar and filled with champagne. They listed places they'd toured that they wanted to visit again, and locations they hadn't been yet but had always hoped to see.

"Can we gets a cat?" Toki asked suddenly, making Skwisgaar laugh airily.

"If we haves to?" He laughed again as Toki nodded against him. "But I'm not cleaningks up after it, dat ams all you, pal."

"Okei." Toki sighed deeply, settling in more comfortably. "Okei. I feels a lots less scareds now about all dis."

His hand glided up from where it had been resting at Skwisgaar's hip to lay warm over his heartbeat.

"I'll miss Dethklok. A whole lots. But now I t'inks I ams acktualies looking forwards to what comes next."

Still staring at the steel plates above, Skwisgaar grinned at the pictures they'd painted in his mind.

"Ja, me toos."

He covered Toki's hand with his own. However much they stood to lose after tomorrow, his heart felt lighter at what they were about to gain together. There was no reason to dwell on what was gone.

Everyone handles grief differently.

Laying on his bunk, Skwisgaar's eyes roamed the scuffed plate ceiling overhead, lingering on rusted rivets and water stains. The imperfections seemed to move and writhe like crawling insects under the influence of whatever handful of pills Pickles had given him. A half-drained bottle of vodka lay cradled against his chest, the mouth stoppered by his thumb. Fire burned in his belly from the alcohol, but cold fury pulsing through his veins tempered it.

He'd been prepared for Dethklok to end, had even accepted the idea that his career as a guitarist was over, diminished to a hobby. Playing guitar was his lifeblood, his purpose, and he'd been about to let that go. What had he been thinking? How had he gotten so wrapped up in fantasy that throwing away his entire self had seemed like a plausible course of action.

Loss of objectivity. Fortunately it seemed to be temporary.

He took a long pull from the bottle, dribbling a little and not bothering to wipe it away. Stupid Toki, needing to be comforted like a child with make-believe bedtime stories. He couldn't just man up and move on like everyone else, like Skwisgaar had been doing since he was a teen, finding his next audition, his next couch to crash on, his next temporary alliance with subpar musicians to make ends meet. It couldn't have been an easier landing for him either, no concerns about hunger or homelessness or deportation hanging over his head. He was set up for success and still couldn't handle it.

Fucking idiot needed so much attention, so much coddling, he'd even run straight into harm's way to try and make a friend. Of all people, he'd had to choose Magnus, that vindictive bastard. Of course he'd still been carrying a grudge, when had he ever let anything go in the past? And they'd known it.

A pair of divots on the ceiling stared back at him, one dark, one catching the light. Glaring back at him mockingly, winking at his impotent rage.

They'd known. They'd known, they knew, they knew.

Skwisgaar knew. And he'd said nothing.

Then he'd watched again, frozen, as Magnus drove a knife into someone close to him.

Skwisgaar thrashed upright, a strangled roar bursting from his lungs as he flung the bottle at the wall. He kicked at the bedside table bolted to the wall, denting it from below, then spun around to tear the sheets from his bunk and hurl them across the room. This wasn't the trade he'd prepared for, this wasn't the deal he'd made with himself.

His eyes fell on his Explorer propped in the corner. He reached for it, wrapping both hands around the ebony fretboard, holding it like an axe and swinging it against the wall. He bashed it into the floor, the dresser, screaming until his throat was raw and the guitar was cracked into useless chunks of wood and fiberglass connected by twisted strings. He dropped the pieces in a heap, sinking to the ground to lean against the side of his bed, his shoulders heaving with labored panting.

The door of his room scraped open, and in his periphery he saw a figure standing, backlit by the dim red glow in the corridor. Broad-shouldered, straight hair dangling about their head. His heart seized for a moment before the figure spoke, shattering his hallucination.

"What are you doing in here?" Nathan's gravelly voice was cautious.

Skwisgaar didn't turn, eyes still focused on the debris ahead of him. The stainless steel guitar strings seemed to wriggle like worms in grave soil, consuming the corpse of his instrument. He waited until he caught his breath before trying to respond.

"What does it looks like I'm doingks?"

Nathan shifted in the doorway. "Losing your mind."

He chuckled mirthlessly.

Loss of sanity? Maybe.

"You've been locked up in there a while. Maybe you should, you know. Come out here. With the rest of the band."

"Fucks off."

Nathan didn't move. Skwisgaar felt the urge to rage at the other man rise in him, to shout in his face, demand to know why it had taken him so long to patch things over with Pickles, why he let it go so far that he'd upset all of their lives so horrifically. But the feeling passed, his body drained from his previous outburst and from trying to filter a pharmacy's worth of substances through his liver.

"We're gonna find him, you know. Charles has people everywhere looking already."

One shoulder rose and fell in a halfhearted shrug. "Whatevers. Who cares."

They could have been a four-piece. If he really wanted to rage at someone it would be his past self. How different would things be right now if he'd never given that gutter rat a chance after missing his audition time? How much of what they achieved would they have really missed out on? How many rerecording sessions and stupid arguments and publicized blow outs could have been avoided? What would they really have been missing?

He certainly wouldn't mourn the loss of a constant source of annoyance. Of an immature tag-along with a hair trigger temper. Of a loud and boisterous whirlwind of silliness and color and sincerity.

Loss of his shadow. Loss of his muse. Loss of his best friend. Loss of his future. Loss of…

Loss of…

He couldn't breathe.

"Just leaves me alone. Please." He gritted out, proud of the steadiness of his voice as his stomach began to roil and his eyes prickled with tears.

Nathan hesitated. "Should I...close this?"

Skwisgaar nodded and after another moment the steel frame clanged shut. His vision blurred as tears welled and spilled over, his breath returning in short gasping puffs which rolled over into sobs that rattled his frame.

They'd had one day. Not even a day. An evening. Hours.

He wept until he was sick, vomiting clear liquor and not much else onto the floor next to the remnants of his guitar. He wept until his tears were spent and his head throbbed in tandem with his heart, even though he didn't understand how the muscle still carried a beat when the rhythm had been taken away.

Eventually he had nothing left. His face felt swollen, his eyes were gritty. Skwisgaar rolled to his hands and knees, avoiding the puddle of sick as he rocked up onto wobbly legs. He looked at the door, wondering if the others were still awake. If they were sitting in the lounge, drowning their sorrows. He felt like he wore a lead weight around his neck, bowing under the pull of it. It might be better just to sleep.

He turned to the naked mattress, but a scrap of blue on the floor near the foot of the bed caught his attention. A faded cotton t-shirt lay where it had been discarded. Skwisgaar stared at it for several long moments. He stepped closer to the bed, to the shirt.

And kicked it underneath the frame and out of sight before turning for the door.

He'd never given much energy to grief. Life was just a punctuated string of losses in the long run. Loss of purpose. Loss of self. Loss of connection. Loss of…

It was all meaningless, really. So why dwell on mourning what you couldn't have back?

#skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #skwistok #dethklok #metalocalypse

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fnf-brain-rot · 3 years

Text

[Whitty x Boyfriend]

Chapter 5 - Let's just chill!

Boyfriend awoke with a bit of an issue in the.. south region..

He groaned, putting a hand on his head before sitting up. It hurt too. He was about to handle it when he felt a presence to the side of him.

Whitty was just standing there..

Staring..

The blue haired male screamed and threw himself off the other side of the bed, which only made Whitty blink and lean over to look. "Sorry I startled you." He called to him. Boyfriend could only see the swirls in his vision. He eventually got up, pulling himself back onto his bed, also bringing his comforter back up as well. "Whitty, how long have you been standing there?"

"Mmh... Most of the night."

"Wh-MOST-"

Boyfriend threw his hands up in exasperation. "Did you SLEEP??" In response to his question, Whitty shook his head. "I told you I don't really need to." Boyfriend grimaced in his direction, making a small sound of discomfort to himself, then sighed heavily. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I thought you were having a nightmare." Whitty admitted softly. Boyfriend's cheeks began to heat up as he spoke. "It sounded like you were calling my name.. Was I.. doing something bad to you?" Whitty seemed hesitant to ask, gently pulling on the large shirt he was given.

"No no no! You didn't do anything bad! I uh.. It was uh.." Boyfriend bit his knuckle. Well he certainly couldn't say what was actually happening, but he was such a bad liar. "It was a recap of our day out.. yesterday!" He blurted out. Whitty blinked. He did something bad yesterday. Bee says it wasn't directed towards him, but he was still weary of him thinking about it. "How about you go wait in the living room? I'll make us some breakfast, yeah?" Boyfriend offered, and Whitty nodded, turning around to leave the room, of course, obliviously leaving the door open. Boyfriend let out a gentle sigh and got up to close it, then deal with his issue. Shouldn't take too long..

___________________________________________

Whitty sat down on the couch, nervously fiddling with his fingers as he stared at the blank tv. He couldn't have left a bad impression right? Of course not, if he didn't like him, he certainly wouldn't invite him over, and cuddle with him. Cuddling.. was nice. It would be nice to do that right now. He decided to figure out the tv, picking up the remote and mashing a random button. He pressed damn there every button on the device before actually getting to the power button, and he couldn't help but jump when he heard the tv turn on.

He wasn't sure if he was ready to meet Dearest's daughter today. At least it was only her, and from what he knew, she knew nothing about him other than when they first met. Does she even know she's meeting the same guy? She looked pretty scared of him. Whitty squirmed in discomfort at the thought. What if she knew about him and her dad? What if she didn't like him? What if she rats him out? His head swirled with worst case scenarios, and he couldn't help but stress about it. Boyfriend exited his room about five minutes later. Whitty could hear the bare feet slap against the wooden hallway floor. "Whitty? Whitty, what's wrong?" The blue haired male rushed to the couch. Whitty hadn't realized he had started crying, clutching his head in his hands like he felt a pain too great to bare.

Boyfriend hopped onto the furniture beside him, gently hugging his head against his chest. "I'm sorry, did I upset you? I promise you didn't do anything bad." He mumbled softly. Whitty shook his head. "I'm just.. nervous." Boyfriend parted a bit, looking down at the bomb with a slightly confused expression. "Nervous? About what?"

"Meeting her."

Boyfriend understood. She did talk about how scary and dangerous he seemed. He didn't exactly specify that it was Whitty he was talking to. There is a chance she could freak out when she sees him. Maybe Boyfriend hadn't thought this all the way through..

"How about we eat breakfast? It's hard to think on an empty stomach." He hugged onto Whitty again, gently rubbing his back. Whitty quickly began to relax. No one had ever done this with him before, and it was really affective. He really liked it. "Can we do that thing first? The cuddle?" Whitty asked softly, and Boyfriend grinned. "Of course we can, Whits." He got down, then climbed into Whitty's lap, but he faced him this time, wiping away his tears, just like he did under the tree. Whitty couldn't help but smile a little, wrapping his arms around Boyfriend in a slightly tighter squeeze than the first time. He felt warm..

___________________________________________

Boyfriend had decided to make waffles, oatmeal, grits, scrambled eggs, fried eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, anything he could honestly find in his kitchen to make a big enough meal for someone who eats so much so fast. He himself was contempt with eating two waffles and some eggs, while Whitty, of course, ate everything else. "Dude, where does it all go?" Bee then asked, receiving a simple "hm?" from Whitty across from him. "Like.. You eat so much, but it's like it literally melts right off of you." Whitty shrugged. "It kinda does.. I digest food faster than normal humans." He explained softly. He picked up his dirty dishes and put them in the sink, with instruction, and did the same with Boyfriend's dishware. "Aww you don't have to clean up after us every time." Boyfriend laughed, sitting up and stretching before standing out of his seat. "I like to. I like to think it shows.. my appreciation for you feeding me." Whitty responded in a soft tone. Of course he didn't really know how to DO dishes, just put them in the sink. Boyfriend would deal with that pile later.

"Come on, let's get ready to go. I have a whole day planned for us." Boyfriend bounced on his toes before rushing back to his room to change. Whitty sighed softly. He didn't know how to use the dryer..

Boyfriend was quick to throw on his usual baggy jeans, white shirt, and his cap. He could barely contain his excitement, he was running back and forth in the hall, of course grabbing his mic and pocketing it for good measure. Whitty had crouched down in front of the dryer, staring intensely at it. "My clothes are trapped." He whined softly. Boyfriend came out from behind him, and couldn't help but laugh. "This is the handle to pull it open." He pulled it, and Whitty let out a sound of relief. His clothes were free!!

___________________________________________

"I'm gonna miss this carpet."

"We're gonna come back dummy."

Whitty blinked. He hadn't thought of returning to his house, he thought he was only letting him stay one night..

Boyfriend was sneaky in managing to get him to stay. He secretly applauded himself. He then smiled up at Whitty, gently grabbing his hand. "Let's get going!"

He decided to take Whitty to all his favorite spots. There was a burger joint he and Pico occasionally hung out at, and Whitty was totally down to eat again, so they went.

"Yeah, all the good stuff happens at night, so that's when we go see Gigi." Boyfriend explained with his mouth full, and Whitty nodded to show he was listening. "Oh crap, I forgot! I'm battling her mom tonight! I don't really know where though, they were gonna come pick me up." Boyfriend put a hand on his head and threw it back in distress. "Does this mean I won't meet.. Gigi?" Whitty questioned him. Boyfriend shook his head. "I guess we'll just have to wait until after. Her mom is sneaky as hell, who knows where she is at any time." He shuddered. That lady genuinely scares him.

Next up was the mall.

Whitty was hesitant to go into such a crowded area, but Boyfriend led him through the door in the back way. There were way less people coming through there, so he wouldn't have to worry about being spotted. As they entered, though, Whitty got this weird feeling.. Like they were being watched. He looked around the clothing section they were in. It was quiet back there too, save for the gentle music playing from the speakers in the ceiling. "Ooh! We should shop clothes for you!" Boyfriend then suggested. "But.. I won't be able to carry them with me everywhere.." Whitty objected, holding his hands up nervously. "You won't carry them everywhere. They'll be at my place." Boyfriend pointed his thumb at his own chest proudly.

He really did trick him into moving in, didn't he?

"The only money I get is from the collabs I've been doing so far, so until I get rich and famous, you can get one more outfit and a pair of shoes." Whitty hummed uncomfortably. Now he was taking more money from him, great. "Hey, I'm offering. Now go pick out what you like." Boyfriend smacked Whitty's leg at the knee cap gently, and Whitty quickly held it, puffing his cheeks. "Fineeee, I'll go pick out something.." He huffed reluctantly, but proceeded to look at some shirts and pants and such.

___________________________________________

The two walked out of the mall with one bag, and Boyfriend was holding a box, which had his new shoes in it. "Thanks.. for getting me new clothes. I'm sorry to spend your money." Whitty mumbled shamefully, and Boyfriend huffed at him. "I told you, I don't mind. I want you to be comfortable since it's obvious you've never relaxed a day in your life." Bee grunted in response, nudging his leg as they walked. Whitty laughed nervously, looking behind them. He swore up and down he felt like someone was following them..

"Where to next?" Boyfriend thought out loud, mostly to himself. It was already one in the afternoon, they only had about three hours left until they were coming to pick him up. They decided to go back to the house. Whitty felt uncomfortable being out in the open for so long. "You're sure you didn't tell anyone you were talking to me?" The bomb asked, taking his shoes off inside the house. "Yes, Whitty. I haven't mentioned your name to anyone. If anything I addressed you as 'the guy I battled last week' to Pico. Why?" Whitty shook his head, stepping onto the carpet, then relaxing all over again. It was just so soft-

"Whitty?" Boyfriend turned to look at him. Whitty sighed under his breath, then sat up. "I.. felt like someone was following us. All day. It just feels ironic that I'm supposedly meeting someone-a friend of yours-today." He muttered. Boyfriend stared at him for a moment. "You don't think.. You're not thinking I set you up, are you?" He asked hesitantly, putting a hand to his own chest. Whitty didn't answer right away. He curled up into a ball in his spot, the possibilities beginning to race through his mind all over again. Suddenly he didn't feel as safe as he wanted to. Suddenly he couldn't trust Boyfriend as much as he wanted to. Bee could see him breaking down into an anxious wreck, staring intently at one spot on the floor.

He was a little hurt, yes, but this guy had so many people out for him, it wasn't even funny. He couldn't be mad at him for being cautious. That's why he's still alive today. "Whitty.." Boyfriend approached him, and his heart broke when he saw how Whitty coiled away a bit. He didn't stop though. He crouched down, putting a hand on his head. Whitty slowly looked up at him, his black, inky tears trailing down his cheeks once again today. "When I told you I would be there for you, I meant it." He told him. "I wouldn't throw you in the gutter. Remember that? I would never set up my friend. If you don't feel safe going outside, you can stay in here, okay?" Boyfriend gently leaned forward, placing a kiss on his forehead.

Whitty had no idea what that was, but he liked how it felt. It was like his worries melted away with the feeling. Like he was.. safe. He took a breath, then nodded at Boyfriend's words. "Wait.. do that again?" Whitty's eyes held a less somber expression, and he gently held onto Boyfriend's head. This caused him to blush heavily. Whitty could feel his face heating in his hands. "W-What? A-A kiss?" Boyfriend was a little surprised as Whitty nodded. He tried to calm his heart beat. He could feel it beating out of his chest, so hard he would have thought he was having a heart attack. He leaned down and gave Whitty another peck on the forehead, and the taller couldn't help but close his eyes at the warmth it gave him.

"Thank you, BB." Whitty responded softly, letting his face go, then standing back up. "Y-Y-Yeah! N-No p-problem!" Boyfriend's hands were shaking, and he was laughing awkwardly. His face was so red, and Whitty remembered what that meant. He smiled, then picked Boyfriend up, a high pitched "beep!" coming from him. "Whitty!!" He exclaimed nervously, hiding his face in his hands. Whitty tilted his head. That must be an even more positive reaction! He sat down on the couch, still holding Bee in his arms. He was determined they would cuddle until Girlfriend came to get him.

___________________________________________

Boyfriend jolted awake to Whitty staring down at him. Again. He yelped out, but quickly exhaled, putting a hand on his own chest. "You don't wanna be late for your battle." Whitty noted softly. He was still holding Boyfriend. No wonder he fell asleep so fast. He sat up, and Whitty allowed him to, setting him on the floor in front of the couch. Boyfriend stretched his arms up, groaning at the good stretch. "Thanks Whits.." He mumbled softly, his face quickly beginning to redden again just by looking at him. "I'll protect the house while you're gone, don't worry." Whitty told him, and Bee laughed. "I'm sure you will." He made his way over to the door, slipping his shoes back on. "You sure you'll be okay?" He turned around, and watched as Whitty curled up on the couch. He nodded in response, turning the tv on. Bee smiled, then made his way out.

Whitty really wanted to see Boyfriend's little rap battle, to of course be emotional support, but he couldn't be seen. It sucked. He felt lonely all over again, sitting in the living room, sitting on a small couch in front of a tv playing something he wasn't interested in, and he had no knowledge of how to change the channel. He hugged his knees to his chest, puffing one of his cheeks in thought. Boyfriend seemed to genuinely care for him. He.. really did care for him.. Hopefully his friends are similar to that. Even if they weren't, Boyfriend was enough for him. He was all he needed..

___________________________________________

Whitty looked away from the cats on the screen about an hour later to the sound of the front door opening. His insides fluttered, like.. weirdly. He put a hand on his chest as the door opened, and Boyfriend walked in, talking to someone and laughing. He turned to look at Whitty, then winked. "Gigi, here's the guy I wanted you to meet!" Girlfriend walked past him, and looked directly into Whitty's eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, and Whitty began to sweat nervously. "H.. Hi-"

"I'm very sorry!"

Whitty's eyes widened, and his cheeks began to glow orange. "I also participated in pushing you to that point, and I wanted to apologise for doing that." She took her shoes off, making her way into the living room. Whitty and Boyfriend let out a breath of relief, the latter quickly following after her. "I-It's okay.. really.. it happens.." Whitty stammered awkwardly, shrinking against the couch as she smiled up at him.

"I'm Girlfriend, but just call me Gigi. I hope we can get to know each other better. And don't worry, I'll keep you a secret from my parents." Whitty's eyes brightened as she spoke those words. She seemed kind already. "See!! I told you it would go well!" Boyfriend hugged Girlfriend from behind, making her giggle. "Yeah.." Whitty mumbled to himself.

Maybe it won't be that bad making friends..

#fnfboyfriend #whitty #friday night funkin #fnf whitty #fnfwhitmore #whitty x bf #bf x whitty

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tails89 · 3 years

Text

Fandom: Teen Wolf Word count: 1289 Read on AO3

“You will not believe what just happened to me,” Stiles whines, bursting in through the front door and dropping down onto the couch beside Derek. Kicking off his shoes, he throws his feet up to hang over the armrest and slumps backwards into the cushions.

Derek doesn’t move—just glances around the pages of his book muttering under his breath, “Hey Derek. Nice to see you Derek. Can I come in? Sure Stiles, make yourself at home.”

“Pfft, this isn’t about you,” Stiles grins, flapping his hand at Derek. “Actually-” he sits up suddenly, pulling in his legs to cross them underneath himself. “It is. Do you know what Mrs Davidson said to me today?”

“Let me guess.” Derek throws one arm across the back of the couch. “She said, ‘here comes trouble’?”

“Uh, no.” Stiles rolls his eyes. “She asked me-” He lets his voice go high and reedy in a poor imitation of his elderly neighbour. “’What’s a nice boy like Derek Hale is doing with a boy like you?’ Which, first of all—rude! Second of all, me corrupt you?”

“Yeah, where on earth would she get that idea?” Derek asks, finally giving up on his book and slipping an old receipt into the pages to mark his spot.

“Hey, I am an upstanding young citizen,” Stiles argues, flopping back, his head pillowed against Derek’s thigh. “I am a pillar of this community. I mould the young minds of Beacon Hills.”

Derek barks out a laugh. “Who thought that was a good idea?”

Rolling over onto his stomach, Stiles steadies himself on one elbow and uses the other hand to poke Derek in the leg. “You sir, have everyone one tricked into thinking you’re Mr Deputy Goody-two-shoes, but I know the real you.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, and I know who of the two of us dug up Mrs Davidson’s daffodils, and it wasn’t me.”

“That was an accident and you promised not to bring that up again.”

“Well I’m a lying liar who lies.”

With a quick shove, Derek sends Stiles tumbling onto the floor and stands, moving for the kitchen. “And that’s why your neighbour thinks you’re corrupting me. You staying for dinner?”

“Yup, you making spaghetti?” Stiles asks, following Derek into the kitchen and hopping up onto the counter to watch him start pulling things from the fridge. He swings his legs, knocking his heels against the cabinet doors. “I distinctly remember you promising to make your Dad’s famous spaghetti if I made it through parent-teacher week without murdering anyone.”

“What does she even mean by that, anyway?” Stiles asks around a mouthful of pasta, his next forkful hovering halfway to his mouth.

Derek waits, tearing off another slice of garlic bread, for Stiles to explain his logic jump.

“Who?” He prompts, when the explanation never comes.

“Mrs Davidson,” Stiles tells him, like it was an obvious connection to make. “Why does she think we’re together?”

Shrugging, Derek uses his garlic bread to mop up the last of the bolognaise sauce. “We hang out a lot,” he says. “You’re either over here or I’m over at your place. It’s not an unreasonable assumption to make.” He pops the bread into his mouth and reaches for Stiles’ now empty bowl.

“I got it.” Stiles waves him off. “You cooked; I can clean up.” He stands, stacking the empty bowls on top of each other. “I’ll get the icecream if you queue up the next episode of Narcos.”

“I’ll be right back,” Stiles says suddenly. “Don’t let the next episode start.”

He disappears from the living room and Derek takes the opportunity to stretch out on the couch. It’s getting late, but the last episode had ended on a cliffhanger so there’s no way they can leave it there.

Reaching for the remote, Derek checks how many episodes are left—three. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so Stiles is off and Derek’s on a late shift so they can probably finish the season before calling it a night.

“You’re in my spot,” Stiles says, shuffling back into the room.

“It’s my couch,” Derek says, making a show of getting comfortable. “I think you’ll find it’s all my spot.”

Stiles slaps jokingly at his legs until Derek lifts them, dropping them down into Stiles’ lap once the human is sitting again.

“You’re such a couch hog,” Stiles complains, but he doesn’t push Derek’s sock-clad feet away. Instead, he stretches out with his own legs up on the coffee table. “You know, I only come over here when Dad’s on the late shift.”

Derek’s finger hovers over the button on the remote but he doesn’t press play. “I know.” And it’s true, because when the Sheriff is home, Derek’s usually over at the Stilinski house with them.

“I just- do other people think we’re dating?” Stiles asks. “Like is this a widespread thing or is it just my neighbour? Do you think my dad thinks we’re dating?”

“I think you’re overthinking this,” Derek says, nudging Stiles’ leg with his foot. “Can I hit play now?” He doesn’t wait for Stiles to respond and the title card of the next episode flashes up on the TV.

“Hey, what time is it?” Stiles mumbles, rubbing his fists into his eyes.

Onscreen, Netflix is playing a trailer for another show, but Derek hits the power button on the remote to shut the TV off. Picking up his cellphone, the bright light almost blinds them both as Derek checks the time.

“Late.”

“Ugh.” Stiles mashes his face into the space between the back of the couch and Derek’s leg. “I’m getting too old for this,” he complains. “I’m feel like an old man— gotta be in bed by nine or face the consequences.”

“And all at the ripe old age of twenty-five,” Derek jokes, shifting to give Stiles more room to faceplant into the cushions.

“You don’t understand.” Stiles looks up. “You and your youthful werewolf body will never know my pain. My knees creak now Der, they creak.” He buries his face again, and Derek only just catches his mumbled. “They tell me when it’s gonna rain.”

“It’s a useful skill,” Derek tells him, laughing when Stiles flips him off. “Come on, it’s late. You can crash here.” He lets Stiles use the bathroom first, stacking their icecream bowls into the dishwasher while Stiles brushes his teeth.

“Did I leave any clothes here last time?” Stiles asks, sticking his head out of the bedroom door. Jeans don’t make for particularly comfortable pyjamas and it’s too cold to sleep in his boxers.

“Bottom drawer,” Derek calls back over his shoulder.

“Found them.”

Turning off the kitchen light, Derek heads to his bedroom. He’d spent the afternoon lounging around in his sweats so after brushing his teeth he goes straight to bed, climbing into the sheets and rolling over onto his side.

He’s comfortable and warm, drifting right on the precipice of sleep.

“Oh my god!” Stiles lurches upright on the bed, almost elbowing Derek in the gut with his flailing. “We are totally dating.” Even in the dark Derek can see his dumbfounded expression. “How could you not tell me we were dating?”

“Knew you’d figure it out eventually,” Derek mumbles, tangling his fingers in Stiles’ and pulling him back down.

Stiles goes willingly, shifting back so that he’s pressed against Derek’s chest.

“It’s just— all this time we could have been doing… I dunno, boyfriend stuff.”

“We were.”

“Other boyfriend stuff.” Stiles rolls in Derek’s arms so that he’s facing the werewolf. “Like, kissing boyfriend stuff.”

Derek’s laugh is a warm puff that ruffles Stiles’ hair. “We have so much time for ‘boyfriend stuff’” He presses his lips against Stiles’ temple. “In the morning.”

#sterek #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #eternal sterek #teenwolffanfic

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freebooter4ever · 3 years

Text

A fic inspired by @kanhatomame 's Lovely Drawing of Eugene dreaming about Snafu ^_^ Set in Mobile after the war, Eugene deals with pining and memories, and that wordless connection to another person that never really leaves you. (angst ish with happy ending)

__________

There are so many ghosts in Eugene's head it's quite crowded there. But the only one he clings to is Snafu's. Naturally, this also means it's the one that feels most nebulous and impossible to chase down. Sometimes, when Eugene sees other couples together, touching each other, looking at each other, the connections to his own vivid memories feel stronger.

But he and Snafu were never a couple, should never have been a couple. Their few kisses were stolen behind doors and in the shadows. They could never have danced hand in hand like the boys and girls are doing now at the OMM ball.

Eugene stares at the dancers, himself half hidden behind a potted plant. A silly form of camouflage, and one that wouldn't even work if someone looked his way. It certainly fails to hide him from his brother. He can see Edward eyeing him disapprovingly from across the room. Edward's arm is wrapped lovingly around his wife's waist. She leans into his shoulder slightly - Martha is small and petite and fits perfectly.

Eugene takes a deep breath and refocuses his eyes to the center of the dance floor. He slowly allows himself to relax, concentrating on one memory of a touch. Snafu was never one to lovingly cradle Eugene, but whenever they would sit down around camp - at the slop shoot, or the movies, or when naked on the beach after a swim - Snafu would sling his arm behind Gene's back and angle his whole body in Gene's direction. He kept it casual, usually joking and laughing as if using humor to distract the rest of the guys from this habit of his. Except there were always times when Snaf would make a particularly ridiculous wisecrack and Eugene would feel compelled to turn his neck to roll his eyes at Snafu, and the minute his eyes would meet Snafu's, the other guy's face would be glowing with joy. Joy reserved only for one person - Eugene.

There's a specific shine in Snafu's eyes that he saves solely for Gene. And those delicate bits of eye contact were more intimate than all the loving touches in the world. And often they preceded Snafu pulling Eugene into some dark hideaway, and pressing his full body up against Gene, still teasing him, tempting him with no kisses, no gentle lover's touch until Eugene finally got fed up and molded their mouths together.

Eugene will never forget the shape of Snafu's hands.

"Eugene? Baby brother?" Edward is snapping his fingers in front of Eugene's face.

Eugene blinks rapidly, comes back to himself, completely loses the relaxation in his body, and glares at Edward.

"Thought you were in a trance or something," Edward grins lopsided.

"I was thinking," Eugene sighs.

"No duh," Edward says, "You do too much of that, little brother."

"What else is there to do?" Eugene sighs continuously. He shouldn't have opened his mouth because the next thing he knows Edward tells him 'don't move' and disappears further into the house to find some poor victim to foist awkwardly on Gene.

It's been like this all evening. Eugene's talked to more girls in the past hour than he ever has in his life. All of them brought to him by Edward, eagerly introducing the girls to his younger, naive brother.

This latest one is named Victoria, and she's got long curly brown hair that looks soft to touch, and a porcelain face like a doll.

"She's very pretty," Eugene says truthfully when Edward corners him and demands to know what he thought after Victoria is called away by friends.

"Gene, I don't understand you," Edward shakes his head, "You're the son of the city's best doctor, you've got all your limbs intact, you're a war hero… why I'll bet you're the most eligible bachelor here. If you just learn to play it up a little bit…"

"I'm going outside to smoke," Eugene interrupts flatly, "Come get me when it's time to leave."

His voice brooks no argument, and he promptly ducks out of the house with only one direction in mind. He fills his pipe, lights it, and slowly lets the smoke start to relax him again. His lips suck on the wood between them, and the ghost of Snafu seeps in with the nicotine. The memory of the first time when Eugene sucked Snafu's finger clean (of mashed potatoes) - after Snafu tried (and failed) to start a food fight. It pairs well with the memory of sucking off other parts of Snafu too… certain parts he doesn't have a clear picture of in his mind. He sort of blurred the image as it happened, out of embarrassment or sheer awkwardness. If he ever got the chance to do it again, he'd memorize every square inch.

"Eugene, your brother asked me to come find you," his mother breaks his reverie, "Your father is having the car brought around."

Eugene nods, his shame from his thoughts bright red on his face, but luckily hidden in the dark. He follows his mother to the driveway and wordlessly climbs into the backseat. Martha and Edward are taking their own car. So Eugene has plenty of room to forego seatbelts and lie down across the back. His head is swimming a little bit, from that punch he kept drinking. He couldn't taste it, but he suspects it was spiked.

The car starts up, and starts rumbling, shaking his entire body. The seat is warm - the heat from the engine flows through the entire undercarriage. Eugene closes his eyes. He listens to the sound of the road under the wheels, a smooth wash like constantly crashing waves.

Waves lapping at the toes of his feet, and bathing half of Snafu's entire leg in water up to his knees. Snafu lying naked on his back in the sand, with Eugene straddled on top of him bouncing vigorously. All Eugene remembers is the intensity, the sounds, and the feeling. Half weird gritty discomfort, half absolute pleasure.

The car turns and rolls Eugene against the back of the car. He turns his face to the smooth leather, seeking that pressure of something - anything - against his skin.

Eugene recognizes when they reach their house's street because he can feel the jittering rumble as the car crosses the wooden bridge. The jitter shakes him to his bones, and he shivers although the night is hot and sticky. He closes his eyes and counts the streetlights behind his eyelids until they reach the driveway.

Had Eugene been paying attention at all, looking out the window of the car instead of losing himself to ghosts, he might have noticed the beat-up rusted brown truck parked just outside his family's gate at the end of Georgia House's long private drive. Though truthfully, even if Eugene had been looking he might not have seen it. The cloud cover darkens the sky until the only light source is the single lamp marking the start of the Sledge's driveway. And the truck is parked under a tree, throwing even more shadow over it. The only hint that someone is there is the soft glow of a cigarette luminating a haunted face and skinny legs dangling over the truck bed where he sits.

Snafu arrived in town hours ago - just in time to watch Eugene leave. He's been sitting on top his parked truck ever since. Judging from their fancy clothes, Snafu knew they'd likely return that night from an outing and sure enough. Here they are. He wedges the cigarette tighter in his mouth and jumps down from the truck bed.

Eugene's window is on the first floor, so it shouldn't be hard to reach except for the damn kudzu covering a mass of bushes and thorny plants underneath. Snafu suspects they might have been roses at one point. They're dead now. There's live ones elsewhere in the garden, but the ones under Eugene's window are long gone.

Fucking symbolic maybe.

Snafu shoves the window open unceremoniously and throws his leg in. He sits on the sil and stares down at Gene in the bed. Eugene didn't bother to change, he's still in that same expensive looking suit, his tie askew and his shoes kicked off with one sock missing. Snafu settles himself comfortably against the window frame, puffs on his cigarette, and watches Eugene sleep.

He doesn't get to watch for long - Eugene sleeps fitfully, just as Snafu remembers, and ends up kicking and thrashing in his bed. Snafu watches him with intense regret. When Eugene fell asleep peacefully on the train, for the first time since that initial week on Pavuvu, Snafu thought maybe civilization had kicked Eugene's nightmares. That maybe Eugene was gonna be able to go back to 'normal'. Clearly Snafu was wrong.

He waits a few more seconds, till Eugene's fit is at its peak, and whispers sharply, "Sledgehammer."

Gene sits bolt upright immediately and silently. He stares blankly for a split second, till his eyes snap to Snafu's. Then he stares silently at Snafu.

Snafu takes his half finished cigarette and grinds it into the wood of Eugene's window. It leaves a mark. Eugene watches this without expression.

"You're real," Eugene whispers.

Snafu shrugs.

"I mean you're not a dream… for once," Eugene says.

"You've been dreaming about me?" Snafu grins.

Eugene lunges forward, grabs Snafu's forearms and drags him onto the bed. Snafu falls awkwardly on top of Eugene, but it's easy to shift their positions and overpower Eugene to pin him to the bed. "I really hope those nightmares of yours wasn't you dreaming of me, cause if they were we might have to figure out a way to give you better ones."

"My dreams of you only come during the day," Eugene says, much more serious in tone than Snafu.

"Good ones?"

Eugene nods.

"It isn't enough… is it?" Snafu asks. He already knows the correct answer. That's why he's here.

In response Eugene pulls him down into a kiss.

#Sledgefu #Bad germs

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ri-ahhh · 3 years

Text

rockin’ around

because my family isn’t doing anything Christmas until the 26th and I have nothing else to do

home for the holidays doesn’t always mean you have to return somewhere.

just a big pile of dumb, ridiculous fluff. happy Christmas Eve🎅🎄⛄️

***

“I can’t go home for Christmas.”

Grayson looks up from his phone as you mope into the living room, tossing your purse and keys on the couch cushion beside him before climbing onto his lap. He pouts and wraps you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your temple as you cling to him and nuzzle your nose into his warm neck.

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry,” he murmurs. You sigh when he swipes a palm across your forehead to smooth back your hair. “What happened?”

“My dad just found out he might have gotten exposed at work.” You take a deep breath, holding back tears that would do no one any good. He’s in the exact same boat as you — minus the potential risk of his parent having the virus — but it still wouldn’t be fair to him if you sat here and cried about it. “I just really was hoping I’d get to see family, at least for the holidays.”

Grayson hums a little and brushes his lips against your forehead once again; he understands all too well the struggle of beinf an out-of-state transplant in these times. “Well, lucky for us, we’ve got our own little family in this house, right? It’s not the same, of course, but it’s more than a lot of people have.”

He’s right. You mumble some semblance of agreement and squeeze him tight. You’re still upset, but the familiar smell of his cologne and the feel of being close to him is already assuaging some of your anxiety and sadness.

He hugs you back, and you can hear the reassuring smile in his voice when he speaks again. “We’ll have a party on Christmas Eve. I’ll have Adele order all the shit today; we’re gonna this the best, most festive Christmas we can, babe. I’ll make sure of it.”

Christmas Eve arrives before you know it. If 2020 has taught you anything, it’s that time is the most fickle and outrageous concept of them all; you feel like it was yesterday that you hung up the phone with your mom after finding out you’d have to cancel your flight home, when it’s really been just over a week.

You’re returning back from your apartment with a carful of presents and the other half of your closet to hang up in Grayson’s, to find an excess of Christmas decor has exploded in the twins’ house. Kristina stands precariously on a stool while she hangs a garland across the back doors, Ethan standing protectively behind her with hands held at the ready to catch her rather than simply helping her pin the other end of it to the wall. You giggle and shake your head, making your way to the den to dump some of the presents under the tree. Mando and Adele are stringing multicolored lights all across the room, which is sure to set the vibe right when the Christmas movie night starts later.

Your favorite sight by far, though, is the one you see upon entering the kitchen once your car is completely unloaded. Grayson, in a Santa hat, scooping out thumbprint cookies onto a baking sheet, singing along adorably off-key to the Kacey Musgraves rendition of ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ that’s playing through all of the nearby alexas.

“You’re so cute,” you grin, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek before reaching down sneakily and pinching his ass.

Grayson curses with a little yelp, but chuckles with you as he ducks down for a proper welcome-home kiss.

“Gotta make Santa his cookies,” he says, grinning against your lips, then puckers them a couple more times before pulling away. He sets the bowl down and starts mashing imprints into the dough.

You reach up and squeeze the pompom on the end of his hat and quirk a suggestive brow at him. “You look like a Santa to me. And I might have a special cookie for you later tonight.”

Grayson’s own arched brows shoot up until they’re hidden beneath that sexy swoop of dark hair you love so much. He pushes too hard on one of the dough balls, squishing it much too flat, but he doesn’t even notice. “Yeah?”

You nod and pick up the jelly jar from where it sits on the counter next to a batch of already baked and cooled cookies. “Yep.” You lick and suck the remnants of the sticky sweet from the spoon that rests in the jar, eyeing him up and down. “I may have even bought special packaging for it, too.”

You smile widely at his annoyed laugh, watching him shake his head and get back to work to distract himself from the mental image of the early Christmas present he’s sure to receive tonight.

Ethan and Kristina are still hanging more garland and bunting all around the house, and you take pity on your friend when you hear her bickering quietly with her boyfriend about him refusing to do anything but be her spotter.

“I’m, like, a meter off the ground, E. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m American; a meter sounds like a lot. And you’ve almost fallen like five times.”

“Only because you’re distracting me and not actually helping!”

You laugh and haul a barstool to where the end of the ‘merry Christmas’ bunting needs to go, shooing Ethan off to help Mando and Adele. What would Christmas be without some healthy fighting from the resident mom and dad?

Decorations get finalized, cooking and baking are completed, and everyone gathers in the living room for some fun Christmas-themed games you and Adele had found on Pinterest. Ryan even makes it over, having made the decision himself to stay in LA as well. Adele passes around more Santa hats and obnoxious necklaces made of big, lit-up Christmas lights to accompany everyone’s ugly sweaters and cozy pajama pants. It’s truly something out of a Hallmark movie, and though you still miss your family across the country, you marvel at the one you’ve built right here — just like Grayson said.

Much later on (technically Christmas Day at this point), after cycling through The Grinch, Home Alone, and Love Actually, Ethan and Kristina head to bed. Mando’s new apartment is close enough that he goes home, taking Ryan with him, and Adele crashes in the guest room. It leaves you and Grayson some alone time to cuddle up together in a bundle of blankets beneath the tree, sharing soft giggles and sweet kisses.

Grayson’s smile is infectious as he nuzzles a dimple in your cheek brought out by your own giddiness — you practically feel the energy of a child in the early morning hours of Christmas, waiting on presents to appear magically beneath the tree.

“Do you think Santa will still come if I fuck you under this tree?” he whispers, kissing your ear softly and making you shudder. The chasteness compared to the dirty nature of his words gets you even more riled up. “In the hat, and that necklace, and whatever special wrapping you mentioned earlier?”

You hum and run your hands up and down his broad back, letting him trail hot kisses now down the column of your neck, sighing happily. “I don’t know. I think rockin’ around the Christmas tree in that way might get us put on the naughty list last moment.”

“More like rompin’ around the Christmas tree, am I right babe?”

You laugh out loud, squirming beneath him when he slips his hands beneath your sweater and tickles your ribs gently. You reach up and adjust his skewed Santa hat. “Please shut up, Mr. Claus. Now, I might already be wearing that wrapping, if you’re ready to eat your cookie.”

#this was gonna be smut but im not in the mood tbh lol #hope this bit of useless fluff made you smile #ngl i made myself a lil jealous w it #dolan twins #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #blurb #g blurb #e blurb

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