#anyway GO TO SLEEP SPUD!! (i will) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chezzabellesworld · 1 month

Text

Almost famous

This is an interesting concept and it goes back to the beginning of time whenever there has been a rockstar there has been followers whenever there has been a group there has been groupies whenever there has been something that is big in the world from Nazi Germany to big group and supported whether it be good or bad as i’m showing you now that had massive supporters absolutely huge following but it wasn’t necessarily good and people know that it wasn’t good when it comes to music and rockstars and any kind of group not even like it doesn’t even have to be like Led Zeppelin when you think of this subject it could be Fleetwood Mac ,notoriously party animals also …. so what distinguishes these things and make them different? Nothing nothing distinguishes them it’s all about perception anyway and the thing that makes it I guess less controversial is there like oh they’re an artist they’re expressing that art. This goes for me in a massive way of how Marilyn Manson has got away almost with what he did to Rachel would especially if you wanna talk about the heart-shaped glasses video where he actually committed a sexual assault in the video, he was very telling who this man is and some of the interviews he gave at the time of the relationship.

Iggy Pop, Another big artist in the 60s and the 70s with the Stooges I think was part of the Sun strip the LA New York City life and London where they had groupies of course and groupies don’t come as women who sleep with the band they come with women who support the band who do their washing men their clothes who make their clothes who don’t get any credit for some other things that they do to help it all becomes from a group mentality, this is why I get angry and certain women are just called groupies especially in Nancy spud and yes she did hang around with groups and she did do certain things but she was extremely loyal to said they both are very young they weren’t even 22 by the time they died

I was making loads of mistakes at that age I had been in triangles I had cheated and just not just the ones I done things you would be ashamed of, but we are all young and that is the beauty that comes with you forgiveness as well looks fade and you see all the time on TikTok where beauty is the only currency that matters Which can give a very pessimistic outlook?

So why did this become such a massive thing? There were a groupies and they’re roughly around the same same age as the groups because a lot of these groups are very young you have to remember the Beatles started out when they were in their late early 20s same with the stones, but things were getting more debauchery you had Keith Moon blowing up toilets starting explosive drugs with plenty for drink was everywhere it wasn’t a bad thing back there necessarily and you weren’t didn’t exist. I’m afraid there were more prescription tablets available. This is an excuse but it’s part of the problem.

Also going back to Iggy Pop he wrote a song in 1996. It was released where he bragged about having sex with a 13-year-old sable star. He had her at 13. She got bored and ran away with a New York Doll something along those lyrics Saber walked away from the groupie life layer in life and became living in Nevada Las Vegas, I think she died of cancer but she was away from the life and never really interviews again,. Laurie Maddox doesn’t regret a thing. The thing is she can’t consent what she did because she was a minor and they were trafficking if they were moving these girls across state lines that is trafficking and they’re so many you could mention in this blog that I am doing, Tyler page Stephen Tyler, Jimmy Page, and Stephen Tyler practically brought the daughter Julia Holcombe of her mother. She was at a concert gig whatever when she was younger I do not know the age at the time but she was young so the mother which they call in America den mother I don’t know what that is but it sounds like a woman who takes young girls out if you wanna put it bluntly kind of like a Gislaine Maxwell. She had a relationship with Stephen and she ended up getting pregnant. He was really happy with her in the beginning and they were together. She was living with him and everything. I don’t know how long with this period of time was but he was away on tour things got worse. The family met her and I think she said the experience was bad, I guess then as well and to this day I suppose the family probably thought what is this intention with my son he’s famous and making a lot of money (I’m guessing). so he’s away on tour she’s pregnant. He hasn’t left a penny. She’s got no food in the house. She’s got one person I think or something of this sort bringing her bits of food and bits of money but you and far between now happens in the building and she has to learn how to roll into a fireplace to save old fireplaces to save her self or something in school, he didn’t want the pregnancy and I believe she had a abortion and she’s having the abortion or it’s just ended all that pain on the woman’s physical and emotional pain. Not to mention this man cares she said he didn’t care at all. He was there doing cocaine and then just offering her cocaine well she’s just lost something that she really wanted..

You can go to the hip-hop industry and we have a Corinne Steffens who released the whole book and many other books about the music industry and the predatory nature and the hip-hop industry is even more sexual and even more the butcher and the type of men and some of them are gay and closeted, like fingers up the booty and this is in the 90s or early to very early 2000s I think she said the experience of her being in the music industry was for 18 months but she ended up really bad on drugs and alcohol to the point where she ended up in the bathroom like comatose and nearly dying, it’s very dangerous out there especially young women entertainment industry what would we have? What would be entertained by? I do have respect for these people. I have respect for the ones who put in the effort and do what they give they give us this music which is a perfect gift this is why we have to separate the artist from actions but the same actions must be punished. All we need a whole massive system where this gets changed and a whole massive corporate thing would have to changed of the one percent in the world. I don’t know but I see it starting to happen with all these allegations from R. Kelly, Epstein to that list of Epstein flight logs to the start of it with Harvey Weinstein Bill Cosby Kevin Spacey, even the Johnny Depp and Amber trial where we see a window in today peoples lives and I saw something really interesting the other day which was fought from reading magazines back when I was a teenager in and up to my mid 20s until I realised there was a huge agenda as I was reading when I was reading if I read a story about 10% of it is going to be real and the rest of it is Fiction, the more I realise where is true it is blind items where you actually hear the whole truth of what this entertainment industry is really like so anyway me going off track as I usually do where I went to the point of titling this almost famous, these are the other percentage of people the ones who get given the bad name or the Scarlett letter, the ones who have their name dragged the mud, the ones who are drug addicts sluts, the l list goes on, to Britney Spears having a breakdown and being called fat when this woman had literally just lost the custody of her children been tarnished by her ex partner who was nothing before he met her and they expected this young girl who started out in the entertainment industry at 18 and he’s probably stunted at that age gave us her whole career her age she gave us all this. She gave us her while she was going probably through. Absolute hell I don’t even like to think about it

That the movement became a pariah against this going back to what I saying about magazines so they want that to be as sided media there’s always a side that always has to be a winner or a loser. That’s what keeps it going and that’s what keeps this battle continuing and it will never end there always has to be a winner and an underdog and a loser. With Israel or Palestine,.

As I stress the point of them calling these people who call out their industry and call out the bad and callout corporations companies people there are allowed to call these people mental crazy drug addicts has been but are they allowed to call them evil are they allowed to call them? Satanist? Are they allowed to call them? Jewish and I am going to say that because as soon as you call someone Jewish though your auntie Summit do you not think these people have been in this industry that long and who haven’t joined the 500 million club Know that there is good and bad. Why is it talked about so many times that if you go through certain or certain opportunities are open up for you because you were doing these things humiliation and rituals? No they just called you crazy but why is the story I ask you always always the same These people were almost famous they did so much and you can watch it in the film almost famous where these groupies get all these bad names and like sexual beings and nothing more than that with Nancy and I’ve read her mother‘s book she came from her good background I rich background Didn’t matter if she hadn’t she still wasn’t the person they were betraying her to be. She was mentally ill from the day she was born. I won’t being strangled by her and umbilical cord. Her mother said how much she struggled every day back in those days she would’ve been called schizophrenic but I believe she was autistic 100% I believe this?

Harder to be diagnosed with problems like that than it is men men are less likely to get diagnosed with things like borderline personality disorder and maybe any kind of mood disorder. Where is women are less likely to have anything that is cognitive I guess anyway I just thought I’d like to go onto my TikTok and you’ll see me talk about Desiree Washington Mike Tyson‘s rape victim. I may have done a story About him on here being similar chart to Wendy and Courtney but matters thank you. I am now going to do a podcast on mental health and mental health conditions and how they present?

#almost famous #groupies #groupiesarepeople #rockstarsarepervertedtoo #rape #sa #abuse #hollyweird #Hollywood is evil #fypage #karrine steffans #sable starr #lori maddox #bebe buell #pamela des barres #Julia holy comb

3 notes · View notes

lightthemaskedone · 1 year

Text

(5/19/23) I made some Mixanronpa doodles, cause what else do you do at 1 in the morning on a Friday night? Sleep? PFFF NAH

Anyway we have the guys since I wanted an excuse to draw Burgertron and (Redemption) Spud in the same picture :))

DimLit is absolutely terrified of Scratch and Scratch is just plainly confused

Melvin wants Clogstopper to shut up. He's so done with everyone's crap and Molly has been the only one who could actually NOT drive him insane.

Spud is regretting his life decisions. IM BETTING OF BURGERTRON AND ZULIUS MET THEY WOULD BE BESTIES. So I made that a reality in this fangan AU.

Ched is gay. Nothing else.

Okay fine I'll go to sleep now 🙄🙄

#fanganronpa #my fangan #danganronpa fangan #melvin sneedly #botbots #centaurworld #danganronpa #the ghost and molly mcgee #tgamm #alternate au #doodle #sleep is for the weak #late night doodles

17 notes · View notes

crinkled-emotions · 2 years

Note

Can I request prompt 2 for Roo please? 🤧🤒 (Haha that rhymes🤪)

Pfft, we love a rhyme here 😂

2. "I know you hate being sick, but you need to let me care for you"

I've been rewatching Criminal Minds and Outer Range lately and let me just say that Spencer Reid would literally combust if he saw that hole in the west paddock. Like. Poof. Hotch would be like "hm. That's a good hole."

Anyway. On to the fic!

The second Bradley got sick... he overcompensated. It's his thing, the moment he felt a tickle in his throat or an ache in his stomach he'd pretend everything was okay times fifty.

It actually drove everyone nuts. They could see that everything wasn’t great but he was way too determined (stubborn) to admit defeat to a little cold or stomach flu that took him out at the knees.

Which is why Phoenix created a system. Even when Hangman and Rooster stopped being thick as thieves, he was still in on it. The second Rooster showed any signs of being sick, Operation Fuck came into action.

When Maverick came back into Bradley's life, it all suddenly made a lot more sense. Jake, Javy and Natasha had exchanged glances across the room when Bradley had told everyone his relation to Maverick and all three had burst out laughing.

"I mean, it just makes so much more sense," Javy said, Jake nodding.

"We knew you had to get your stubbornness from someone but we had no idea it was Maverick!" He added.

"Also your inability to sit still for longer than thirty seconds," Natasha added. She and Jake high-fived across the aisle.

It was a few months after the Dagger mission that Rooster came down with a cold. He was fine for a couple of days, a sniffle here and there, a cough every so often, but he was still alert and he still had his razor-sharp focus in the air (he'd also come off his perch and no one was prepared for that). He also kept a packet of tissues in his pocket at all times so no one really thought he was that sick.

That was until he collapsed like a sack of spuds at the Hard Deck. It was out of nowhere, one minute he was standing and thanking Bob for passing his beer over, the next he was out cold. Maverick was there in seconds, Bob kneeling by him to support his neck.

"He didn't hit his head, I think he's just- woah. Wait, hold up."

Bob's brows furrowed and Maverick watched as he put a hand to Rooster's forehead.

"He's burning, Mav," he said. Maverick moved quickly, grabbing the water Jake passed over and dousing Rooster's t-shirt in it. Phoenix reached over, tugging on Jake's shirt.

"Operation Fuck," she said. His eyes narrowed.

"No shit. C'mon, let's go start the Bronco."

Maverick passed over Rooster's keys and the pair exited the building, leaving Maverick and Bob to try and figure out what was wrong.

"Think he just overheated?" Bob asked his Captain. Maverick nodded.

"He's only really had a mild sniffle the last couple days. Think it's a combination of heat and lack of sleep, knowing him."

"Mav..."

"Hey, kid, good of you to join us. How do you feel?"

"Like shit. Did I pass out?" Rooster groaned. He gently pushed Bob's hands away.

"M'okay, just... hot.”

“Yep, that would be correct,” Bob drawled. With his and Maverick’s help they got Rooster sitting up, Maverick checking for any cuts or bumps.

“Okay, Tash and Jake got the Bronco going, how about we get you home?”

“What? No, I’m good. I got hot, it happens.”

“You’re sick, Roo,” Javy said softly. Rooster fixed him with a hard glare.

“No, I got hot. It’s hot in here, it happens. No big deal.”

“Penny-”

“-go home, Bradley!” She called from nearby. Apparently she’d come over to check on her usuals.

“Fuck.”

Rooster scrubbed at his face, wincing as the exhaustion hit.

“I know you hate being sick, but you need to let us care for you,” Maverick said softly. Bradley’s shoulders slumped.

“I did it again, didn’t I?” He whispered. Maverick snorted, nodding.

“It’s okay kid, you’re just doing that self-preservation thing you don’t need to worry about when you’re with us. No one’s laughing, or going to be an asshole. We just want to make sure you’re okay. Does anything hurt?”

“I’m so tired.”

“Bronco’s good to go,” Phoenix said as she reappeared. With the help of Bob and Phoenix, Rooster got to his feet and Maverick guided him to the Bronco where Jake was waiting in the driver’s seat.

“Guess you got the back, Mav,” he said. Maverick rolled his eyes.

“Same old Bagman.”

#top gun: Maverick #top gun maverick #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw #Rooster #Callsign: Rooster #Pete Maverick Mitchell #Pete Mitchell #Maverick #Callsign: Maverick #sickfic #hurt/comfort

6 notes · View notes

we-are-all-of-legend-now · 2 years

Note

Jake and Rose have a sleepover

I think this is coherent 😅

Warnings: I am sleepy, written on my phone

What had once not been a very big deal at all had become a very big deal. Jake had a three way call on his cell phone going with Trixie and Spud as the three of them discussed what to wear and what to expect and what to bring.

"Spud, don't swear the bunny jammies," Trixie said with an exasperated sigh.

"I always wear the bunny jammies to sleepovers!" Spud protested. "They're so comfy! The best for sleeping."

"This isn't just any sleepover, man, it's ..." Jake trailed off. It was the first boy/girl sleepover that they'd been invited too since they and their classmates had any concept of what boy and girl meant. "It's different."

And Rose was going to be there. Jake couldn't afford any embarrassments even if that embarassment was his best friend.

"What are you wearing, Jakey?"

"Classic. White tee and jeans for the first bit and then red plaid PJ bottoms," Jake said looking at himself in the mirror and adjusting his hair. This was going to be good. He knew it.

Even though he was nervous about walking into Brad's sleepover extravaganza, he walked in with Trixie and Spud, holding his head high. Most of the grade had come, and it was a healthy mix of the popular kids and the nerds for once. Jake spotted Rose immediately, hanging out in the proclaimed "beauty bar corner", braiding Stacy's hair.

Jake's stomach did backflips when Rose looked back at him and grinned.

Jake tried to look casual and cool, even though he spent most of the time doing the rounds between the drinks table and the food table with Trixie and Spud. He tried to mingle to varying successes and he couldn't get near Rose who Brad kept near to him. Jake was on the verge of marching up and talking to her anyway when Brad walked into the middle of the party to shout.

"Any of you who feel brave enough, spin the bottle is happening downstairs. NOW!"

Jake saw Rose heading toward the stairs and he immediately seized Spud and Trixie, trying to figure out if there were any dragon powers that would help him get that bottle to land on Rose.

"If I end up kissing Spud, you're in trouble," Trixie said threateningly.

"Sit next to him," Jake advised. "Look, Trixie, Kyle Wilkins."

"Ooh!" Trixie squealed, just like Jake knew that she would.

Jake sat in the circle almost directly across from Rose. He'd never played spin the bottle before and he cast an eye around the circle. There were definitely fine looking ladies in there but he didn't want to kiss them in front of Rose, the same way he didn't want to see Rose kiss anyone else in front of him. The first couple of spins went just fine, even fantastic for Spud, who got a kiss from Stacey, but Jake felt cold all over when the bottle was in Rose's hands to spin. But there were too many people around for Jake to try to influence it so he just crossed his fingers and willed that bottle to land on him.

He felt dizzy when the bottle did land on him.

Jake met Rose in the middle of circle and Jake was nervous, not about kissing her, but doing it in front of everyone. But when Rose got close enough that he could smell her shampoo, Jake lost all reason and grabbed her and kissed her like they were alone. Rose threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in tight to her. Jake didn't even care when the wolf whistles and cries of "get a room!" flared up around them.

"Make sure your sleeping bag is next to mine tonight," Rose whispered in his ear.

"Oh, absolutely," Jake promised.

He was so on cloud nine that he didn't even notice that Spud had changed into his ducky jammies.

#brea answers things #thecaroliner #american dragon jake long #Jake long #adjl rose #rose adjl #adjl #jake/rose #trixie carter #arthur spudinski #kyle wilkins #stacey wintergrin #the last letter #my fanfiction #disney #writing

2 notes · View notes

donutwares · 7 months

Text

Kitchens and chopping up code...

We were at IKEA earlier today where the folks are trying to design a kitchen on a tight budget. Circa $3k was the price, minus appliances. We had chicken rice instead of Arab rice for lunch. Dad and I drank Americano and we had half-priced tiramisu cake. Signs of economic change are sweeping the mall, maybe also Malaysia at large. For better or for worse, we have to work hard anyway.

Brings me to my coding which is going very well. The insistent calls of mind-folk keep causing me to fall behind adding important features. The trouble with interface apps is the bloat they can sometimes acquire versus the poor implementation of key features. Tonight, I hammered out precisely how the keypad would work, how tapping errors are handled, what touch(es) trigger what entry. It's a unique keypad with only 26 keys in 4 rows of 6-7.

Finally cleaned Bean's nest area behind / beside my bed where she chose to sleep. She's been eating better lately as we did a spate of shopping so there is broccoli, spuds, yogurt, cucumber, cheese, assorted unsalted nuts, coconut, avocado, mango, watermelon etc.

Still hanging on to my $210 disposable. Haven't decided what to buy, if there will be more or less options in the near future. Maybe there is something I've missed...

#mental health #telepathy #ikea kitchen #javascript #apps #hamster #economy

0 notes

sherifftillman · 1 year

Text

15 questions, 15 people

Nickname: Ridge (say the sounds 'ruh' and 'juh' together real fast, it sounds like the word ridge. i only really like people calling me it if we're friends though), Spud (family nickname), [any R word] [any J word] (not a nickname since it's longer than my actual one, but people using this format to "full-name" me IS ALWAYS funny to me, it's my fave thing)

Height: 6ft

Last Thing I Googled: "free speech protects you from the government not the justin meme" lmaooo the person who needed to see that meme can't now, anyway. what a shame :)

Song Stuck In My Head: The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra bc it's on my Busy Streets and Busy Lives playlist and i was listening to that earlier

Number of Followers: 1.3k <3333

Amount of Sleep: I got about 6 hours last night after having been up for 32 hours straight lmao (: night shifts fuckin rule (:

Dream Job: genuinely not a clue lol. i used to want to be a journalist but as time goes on the idea of Being Perceived by anyone famous gets scarier and scarier lol. before that i wanted to be a train driver. who's to say what i want to be lmfao

Wearing: an Eddie Munson T-shirt, a pudsey bear jumper, a texas longhorns hoodie, sweatpants, fluffy socks with foxes on them and a hat (tell me it's cold in the uk during a cost of living crisis without telling me lol)

Movies That Summarize You (edit: it's supposed to be movies/books but i haven't read in SO LONG ;-;)

Scott Pilgrim vs the World, it's a good way to judge someone's character if they also say it based on why they like it

Airplane! is my go-to if i need a good laugh

Kingsman: The Golden Circle if i need a cry, i've seen it over 20 times and i'm still a wreck at merlin's last scene. also cowboy!pedro my beloved

Blues Brothers is my ultimate comfort movie, if i'm sick i'm watching it

Spree, i'm usually so bad at watching horror/gory stuff but there's just something about kurt kunkle. also the amount of times i've seen it and i still get that stomach drop feeling at the end with all the reddit posts

Favorite Song: if you ask spotify, one day by lovejoy. if you ask me, what the world needs from the ride the cyclone soundtrack

Favorite Instrument: guitar

Aesthetic: oh christ. somewhere between cottagecore and light academia? i like me some earth tones

Favorite Authors: like i said i haven't read books in forever and i shan't bother my fave authors on here by tagging them in a post where i drone on about myself lol

Random Fun Fact: i am fluent in english, welsh and german! i used to also be semi-decent at russian but i've been really slacking on that one

i don't think i know 15 people to tag lol, but if you see this then that totally counts <33

#about me #ridgespeak #tag game

0 notes

bbykeijis · 3 years

Note

omfg i love you and your writings. i’m so sorry but i’m going to start bothering you know. btw tysm for writing my previous asks. could i get class 1-a with a fem!british!black reader cs that’s honestly me, please? she’s got mean humour. swears a lot. bullies bakugou that he cries himself to sleep every day at 8pm. jaffa cakes and biscoff crunchy spread. is aizawa’s fav bc i say so. understands what aoyama says in french and laughs her ass off when he mocks people. new cook in the dorms. bye <3.

“KATSUKi’S A BELLEND” | blackbritish!reader

summary: when y/n, the new student from the uk, joins class 1a <3 (blackbritish!reader) (fem!reader)

author’s note: don’t even with the crunchy biscoff spread because that shit is SO GOOD??? i had so much fun writing this one,, so glad there’s black brit in my tumblr space bc we gotta stick together 💀

genre & warnings: comedy ! fluff ! monoma ! language !

the moment you walked through that door mina claimed you as her bestfriend as she mf should,, the class fell in love with your accent and at least one bitch had to pull the “it’s chewsday innit!” bullshit

it was monoma. kicked him in the balls. as you mf should.

aizawa is literally frightened impressed with the amount of curses that can come out of your mouth in one sentence

everyone is confused when you start using british slang. you called bakugou a ‘twat’ for calling jaffa cakes gross once. he’s never forgiven you since </3

he also dissed the texture of biscoff crunchy spread,,, you don’t wanna know what kinda war that started…

i can see sero, denki, mina, and jiro getting into grime & the mental image of them rapping along to stormzy makes me laugh my ass off

denki + dizzee rascal = gold

& watch denki try and pull up to class tryna spud up aizawa and calling him his ‘g’ because you dared him too. detention for the both of you ig

aoyoma slips some french into conversations with you to see if you’re worthy enough and when you reply back he literally celebrates. everyone’s like ??? and you tell them you took gcse french and they just nod…

they still confused but who cares? you & aoyama don’t, you can talk shit about them and never get caught 😌

“hey deku, don’t let that bellend get to you, yeah?” “lmaoooo bakugou is a what?”

the best thing about humbling katsuki is he can never understand half of what you’re bloody saying. bakugou doesn’t sleep early because he’s a good student. man is just overwhelmed and needs to cry his frustrations away 😭

yh anyways!

you make the class jerk chicken ONE TIME and suddenly you’re the new chef of the dorm room. you feed them well & it’s never any of that soggy fish & chips bullshit

nandos style dinner? DONE. jollof rice? DONE. shoto is sliding notes under your door asking for the recipe <33

bakugou’s bitter you’re a better cook than him but as soon as he bites into your food he’ll be begging for another plate smh

you show your love through insults & good food <3

“iida, you remind me of someone-” “nonono, don’t call me bo-” “boris johnson,,,, yeah <3”

if you expose the class to the sidemen get ready for them to fucking quote them everyday and for aizawa to HATE you

you make it up to him by introducing cbeebies to eri though :) balamory is her shit

overall you’re a star & ua is lucky to have someone as amazing as you 💀

© all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to me, bbykeijis. please refrain from copying, stealing, profiting off my works. i do not allow my works to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

#mha #bnha x black!reader #bnha x reader #mha x black reader #mha bakugou #mha scenarios #bnha imagines #class 1a #mha x reader #black british #mha imagines #bakusquad #dekusquad

147 notes · View notes

kaepop-trash · 3 years

Note

Going for one of those touchless car wash drive thrus and betting with johnny who can make the other cum faster 🙈

I’m hitting that area again where I hate everything I write. But my new year’s resolution was to not be stagnated by my need for perfection. So I am posting this. I hope you like it.

"Between this ice cream and my coffee," She snorted, the melting ice cream making her gurgle. "I'm going to be so jittery by the time we get home." She lifted her head to stop any ice cream from coming out of her mouth while she spoke.

Johnny laughed, resisting the urge to turn to look at her while he took a turn at an intersection. "Why did you get both?" He questioned. There was a pause, and the slowly moving traffic gave him the opportunity to turn to look at her. Ice cream on one corner of the mouth, she stared out of the windshield with deep contemplation.

"You know." She turned to look at Johnny, "I'm not so sure." She confessed.

Johnny bit back a smile.

"I just." She clicked her tongue, "The sign outside the ice cream store said labour weekend cherry, blueberry ice cream and you know how much I love cherries." Johnny gave her a nod that made her grin.

"But then you also got the piping hot coffee from the store beside it that is now getting cold." He looked towards the untouched cup that sat beside his half finished one in the cup holder.

She stared at the cup for a second, grinding her teeth. Then she shook her head, "It's fine." She reassured with an affirmative nod, taking a spoonful of her ice cream. "I can indulge in both." She mumbled with the spoon in her mouth. “If the coffee gets a little cold, it is what it is.” She shrugged.

Johnny gave her a soft chuckle, warmth spreading in his chest from the content smile on her face.

When they stopped at another light, a touch of cold against his lips made Johnny push back with a jerk. He turned to find her sticking her ice cream spoon close to his lips.

"Have some." She offered. She stuck the spoon closer, the cold ice cream rubbing off on his lip. She bit back a smile.

He parted his lips and licked the little bit off his lip before wrapping them around the spoon. When her exhale came out sharper than either of them anticipated, he turned to lock his eyes with her, smirking against the spoon. She dragged the spoon out, his bottom lip tugging against it.

"It's nice." Johnny mumbled. “I’ll just get the car washed and we’ll go home okay?” Johnny asked when he remembered the task he had set for today.

She turned back to her cup and hummed, the sound voicing her distraction clearly. Johnny grinned to himself.

"Another spoon?" She questioned and Johnny hummed, not looking away from the road.

"Last one though." He tilted his head towards her a little as she reached out with a spoonful of ice cream. "We have to go to that office barbecue tonight and I don't want to get too comfortable. Once this long weekend is over, it's back to the gym." He sighed, taking a bite of the ice cream and humming pleasantly.

She chuckled, "It's good right?" Johnny nodded, a grin forming on his lips. "Don't worry about exercising now.” She groaned, “I'm the only one who sees you naked anyway." She scoffed, "I hope." She added the jab.

Johnny grinned at the road, "There's also the physician who does my annual physical. Need to keep her impressed." He teased. They finally drove into the carwash after making their way through the holiday traffic.

"Why? Did your firm stop giving you healthcare?" She raised a brow.

Johnny laughed with raw delight, his eyes turning into upturned commas. "You know I always aim to please." He turned to her and winked.

She scoffed with disbelief, "Where was this attitude when Haechan stayed over a few weeks back and you literally wouldn't let him sleep." She clicked her tongue.

Johnny opened his mouth in shock, trying to hold back a smile. "You're the one who can't keep quiet!" He protested. “I pleased you just fine.” He reminded her, "The poor guy had to go live with Mark because of just how pleased you were. Something Mark wasn't happy about I assure you." He said the words like he was talking about the weather, with conversational ease.

She gasped loudly, "I am not loud! You knew exactly what you were doing, Johnny Suh.” Johnny laughed as if to confirm her accusations.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He shrugged, reaching for his cup.

“No?” She narrowed her eyes. “Am I not with a man who enjoys being a whore with the possibility of spectators?”

Johnny choked on his coffee, making her laugh. She also reached out to rub his back, with a wince and a mumbled apology when he kept coughing. He gave her a look that was somewhere between humour and defeat.

“Are you okay?” She tried to swallow her giggles unsuccessfully. “You know I’m right.” She added with a softer voice.

Johnny took a deep breath after his coughs subsided, letting out a short laugh. “You’re going to kill me, (Y/N).” He smiled, resting his head against his seat.

The car in front of theirs finally moved inside for its wash to begin.

“I can’t believe you called me a whore.” Johnny chuckled.

“I believe you’ve called me worse.” She reminded him.

Johnny shrugged, “That’s fair. And I guess I am your whore, so it’s not untrue.” He smirked.

She hummed, “Good boy.” The look he gave her made her curl her lips and her toes together.

She turned away from his sudden charged gaze, “This is going to take forever, Johnny. I want to go home and take a nap.” She whined.

“Your nap can wait.” He responded, his brows creasing when he realised something, “You woke up at noon, why do you want a nap?” He sat back in his seat and raised a brow at her.

“Do I?” She rubbed her cheeks against palm.

She shrugged, finally finishing her ice cream and reaching for her coffee. “Why not?” She made a face at the cup, the now room temperature coffee tasting borderline unpleasant. “Your office parties always go on too long and your boss always refuses to let you leave. I’m using this week to catch up on sleep so don’t question it.” She grumbled, a soft pout forming on her face. She stretched in her seat like the conversation reminded her that she was tired, yawning softly. The action illiciting affection in him.

Johnny gave her a tender stare, “We always leave any social gathering the moment your battery runs out.” He reminded her, reaching out to stroke her hair. “You even have a signal.” He smiled when she nuzzled into his touch.

Johnny hummed and nodded, “You tug on my sleeve and sit against me.” He laughed softly, remembering all the times it happened. “It’s very cute.”

She gave him a cheeky grin, “I am adorable, yes.”

Johnny laughed. When their car finally moved towards the wash she let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m hungry.” She mumbled, reaching up to tug at his fingers and play with them mindlessly as she turned to frown at the slowly proceeding queue.

“You’re a lot of things today, it seems.” Johnny pestered.

She turned to him with another pout, “Don’t sass me.” She scolded him with a finger pointed at his chest. She let go of his hand, making him pout this time from disappointment. She sat up in her seat with new-found energy, “You know that fish we had last month? With lemon preserve I think?” Johnny nodded, remembering the anniversary dinner well, every part of it. “I’m craving it so bad!” She whined again.

Johnny bit his lips as the spray of soap covered the car in spuds.

“I’ll make you a deal.” He whispered slowly, the low rumble of his voice making heat pool in her stomach— a conditioned response.

“What?” Her voice dropped in its volume too, turning to his indulgent smirk.

“Come here.” He spread his legs wider on the seat.

She groaned, the sound one of defeat. Sitting up, she gingerly moved across to do what he asked. “Whore.” She mumbled.

“Johnny.” She wanted her voice to sound like a warning, but the breathless hush that came out instead did everything but mediate the tension building in the car.

It was truly hard to resist him.

Johnny hummed, “The one who cums first buys lunch alright? If you win we can get the fish. If I win, I'm craving a good burger.” She nodded, eyes fluttering shut as he ran his fingers through his hair. “We have to be fast though, princess.” A soft laugh left him as she nodded dutifully, reaching out to undo his pants. “They might ban me from getting my car washed here if we get caught and the other place ruined the car’s paint the one time I went there.” Johnny’s head fell back when she grabbed his shaft, a groan dissolving the last of his words.

“Stop talking about your car.” She huffed, “I thought you were in a hurry.” She tilted his head back with her other hand in his hair, reaching down to kiss his jaw.

“Take off your shorts.” He tugged on the band with a finger.

She smiled against his neck, “This is a competition, baby.” She cooed. “What makes you think I’m going to make this easier for you? Work with what you have, Johnny.”

“Such a wretched girl,” Johnny huffed. “Fine.” Johnny groaned, dragging his finger to the buttons of her shorts and flicking it open, “I’m perfectly capable of doing this with a hand.” It was a challenge, his eyes oozed it as he kept them focused on her eyes and put two fingers into his mouth. He licked them with precision, the other on her back pulled her closer.

She bit down on her lip, clenching around nothing. “I would have done that for you.” She licked her lips. Johnny smiled, popping the fingers out of his mouth.

He was, without a shadow of a doubt, right about his single hand being very capable; but she wasn’t in the mood to lose. She gripped him tight and Johnny winced, bucking up from the seat. In retaliation, Johnny took the liberty of plunging two fingers deep inside her. Her legs twitched, a loud groan leaving her lips. She increased her pace immediately, the car filling with sounds that made her blush.

“Shit.” Johnny breathed out. “Look at how you’re clenching around me, (Y/N). Reminds me of the first time I fucked you with my fingers.” He hummed against her forehead. She mewled at the memory, clenching tighter around his fingers. “I was already whipped for you then.” He sighed when she rubbed circles on his tip.

“Fuck.” She breathed out, his words seemingly more effective than his masterful fingers. She did remember that time, almost too well. The memory of the humid car and the tropical heat making her hips buck. Johnny let out a victorious chuckle.

She bit down on his ear, making him twitch in her hand as she expected. “Come one, Johnny.” She urged with a delicate whisper, “Don’t hold back.” She winced when he curled his fingers inside her as punishment for her coaxing. She kept up her persistence anyway, “You’re the one who loves this don’t you? Knowing someone can catch us like this any moment.” She poked her tongue out, leaving a kitten lick on the shell of his ear. Johnny groaned in response, the sound vibrating in her chest and making her certain that she would either lose the bet or go insane trying to win.

“Yes.” Johnny confessed. She shivered at the ease he did it with.

“What is it about it?” She questioned. The car moved forward to get washed down— the last step of the process. The sudden jerk forward made her chest slam into his. His fingers pushed further in at the jerk, making her moan loudly.

She took a deep breath, “Do you want people to watch? Want them to see what you do to me?” She hummed, the words forced through her teeth.

Johnny put his head against the seat, a sigh leaving his lips. Moment’s later she felt his release coat her fingers, looking down with a victorious smile.

“If you cum now, I’ll let you fuck me tonight."

"Shit." Johnny groaned at her words.

"Surely make a party with finance people more fun, huh?” She giggled. She was pumping him so fast now that his own fingers faltered inside her, something she would have complained about if she wasn’t so focused on winning the bet this time.

“That was cheating.” He groaned, she looked back up at his devastatingly handsome face, laced in the aftermath of her work. He took shallow breaths, lips parted and one eye looking at her.

“That was negotiating.” She leaned forward to peck his lips, pulling back to take in the fucked out look on his face. He pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, a soft mewl leaving her lips from the sudden emptiness.

“You don’t deserve to cum for being conniving.” He was still panting, pulling her closer to kiss her. She whined against his lips at the punishment, smacking his chest when she pushed back. “We’re also out of time.” He whispered against her lips. On cue the loud buzz sounded, signalling the end of the wash.

“Fine.” She sighed, pulling off his body and sitting back on the passenger’s seat. She turned to look at him, making sure his eyes were on her, then she licked her fingers clean of his release with lazy precision.

“Fuck.” The word stuttered out of his lips as he tucked himself back into his jeans.

“I told you I was hungry.” She hummed against her fingers.

“You’re making it real tough to think about lunch when you do that.” He mumbled.

“Good.” She gave him an innocent smile, “Let’s go, we’re done.” She pointed at the now visible street at the end of the wash. “I earned that fish.”

Send me an ask about a character from one of my fics in a scenario and I'll write a drabble.

Character from: Unintended Consequences

#johnny smut #johnny scenarios #miscellaneous #unintended consequences #nct scenarios #nct johnny #nct smut #johnny au #nct au #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #nct imagines

238 notes · View notes

thelostmoongazer · 4 years

Photo

sooooo this is an au thats been in the works for a few weeks now! Ive been calling it the ForgetMeNot AU but @spudinacup has been calling them the Dust Bunnies and i just.... lets just say its an alternative name

to put this au in the briefest description, this is a direct spin-off of the GONE WRONG AU (thank you spud for enabling me) where a divergence in events leads to Steven's body getting cremated and his ashes being spread over the hill where Steven died/where the injector landed, for ceremonial purposes. This au also incorporates a theory/au that @faranae has that involves the injector originally being used to create new gems/spinels. With this in mind, cremation ashes are commonly used to create diamonds to put in jewelry as memorabilia. So, with those two concepts in mind... i’m sure you can see where im going with this

(This au is based entirely around the events that will happen in the GW AU, events that I am in no way privy to how they occur so i’m just here for the ride, folks)

READ UNDER THE CUT FOR MORE DETAILED CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS AND NOTES

•Cloud•

Pronouns: They/them (occasional he???)

Age: Last to emerge

Flaw: Twinning wisps (in layman’s terms, when too many outside elements interfere and stunt the growth of the diamond) (design more heavily based on this)

Symptoms: light projection is underdeveloped. Black misshapen “skin” is warped over crystalline “nursery clusters”. (I headcanon that in the early stages of gem growth, their entire form is nothing more than a small, light projection cluster of the gem their made of, but then this condenses into one spot, the gem, thus leaving behind the refined light projection and hardening the gem.) The underdeveloped skin is black/reddish because of the presence of other elements, receding it’s formation.

Personality: All three are curious about the world, sure, but only Cloud is as forward with their intrigue. They have the mentality of “This interests me, I am going to learn more.” Which often leads them to invading boundaries and personal bubbles. They are the most likely out of the three to ask questions and strike up conversation (that is, at least, when they learn English. Even though I can still see them trying to anyway even with broken English lol) making them very charismatic and friendly. This, in turn, makes Cloud act as the three’s door to learning more about this new world they’ve found themselves in.

Other Notes: - Representation of Pink Diamond. Poofy pants, Leotard over pants, Flats. Their Personality also reflects this, mimicking Pink Diamonds childlike curiosity and hunger for knowledge about life on earth. - Meant to mimic Steven’s friendly nature.

•Sky•

Pronouns: She/He/They

Age: second to emerge

Flaw: Clouding

Symptoms: Pigment discoloration around eyes paired with iris colomba (poor vision)

Personality: Sky is the grounding force of the group, they are the one to bring them back down to earth and be the calm when either of them go into their own heads too much. They are also fairly curious about the world but isn’t as direct about it, mostly preferring to observe from afar unless encouraged (or enabled) by the others (*coughcough* cloud *coughcough*) this isn’t to be confused with skittish, though. If sky were to be approached by someone unknown they wouldn’t run away, they’d most likely stay where they are and give you a funny look. Sky will often need encouragement, direct or indirect, from the other two to make their own willing decisions, and will often parrot cloud or slug. Sky will often act as their dictionary or mental catalogue. If one of them forgets the word to something it’s likely sky will be the one to remember it.

Other Notes: -Representation of Rose Quartz. Shawl layer in the shape of RQ’s dress, loose ringlets, bare feet. Their personality reflects Rose Quartz’s mature and nurturing energy with the deep love for all those they hold dear. - Meant to mimic Steven’s caring spirit -due to iris colomba, her vision is very poor. But a symptom of iris colomba is the presence of floater spots in ones vision which, in children, can lead to a more developed use for peripheral vision. This is the case for Sky.

•Slug•

Pronouns: He/They

Age: First to emerge

Flaw: Black Inclusions (bits of spinel?)

Symptoms: Black splotches all over body, mental conflict (short temper, mild co-dependency)

Personality: Being the first to emerge, Slug takes on the role of protector. This makes him very defensive and slightly possessive of the other sibling. He is the most antisocial of the group but can be easily swayed into any activity by the other two, especially when it comes to affection. He typically comes off as crass and rude to strangers (or anyone who isn’t sky or cloud), but if his trust is earned (with a lot of effort) he will show it rather than say it. Slug is the most visually observant and spatially aware out of the two and acts as their sharper set of eyes (this also going hand in hand with their role as protector).

Other Notes: - Representation of Steven. Jacket, (comparatively) shorter curly hair, sandals. His personality reflects Stevens protective nature (and temper) and desire to help. Wanting nothing more than to be useful to those he cares about most. - Meant to mimic Steven’s will to fight

•Overall Notes•

• These gems emerge about 3-4 or so months after the current events of GONE WRONG (THIS IS LIKELY TO CHANGE)

• Each gems deformities/premature emergence all make these gems extremely brittle compared to a normal perfect cut diamond (or even a regular gem for that matter)

• 3 gems instead of one was the fact that a pink diamond, in essence, is practically identical to a white diamond, as far as whats in it’s chemical compound to effect it’s color. With this in mind, its been explained before that White Diamond carries the essence of the entire spectrum. If this is true, then why wouldn’t a pink diamond if they’re practically identical? Therefore, the result of adding those residual properties of a pink diamond from within the ashes, would produce the “purest” forms of the spectrum. White, yellow, and blue. All of them tinted slightly with an ashy pinkish hue.

• Many things were factors in their premature growth, but a main factor is the amount of injector fluid that was provided in the growing process. When spinel first lands the injector, its very apparent that there is plenty of fluid injected into the hill right upon impact. But in this circumstance, after the current events in Gone Wrong, the injector goes idle (or is possibly removed and relocated by/to Little Homeworld but that is completely up in the air and reliant on future events in GW.) and what little fluid was left behind by the injector was what was used to grow the three gems

• Currently, their vocabulary is very limited. They will normally speak in 1-3 word sentences unless they are parroting. Although, given that they are technically elite gem, albeit deformed, they do have the programming for an advanced ease of grasp on language.

• Because of their human influence, they have taken on specific traits of Steven. Yes, different physical aspects (facial features, body type, clothing, etc.) but they also gained instincts from Steven. Not to be confused with memories, but rather impressions of specific muscle memory. Although they don’t need to, they will sometimes desire sleep or food, often unknowingly acting on human instincts. They will even find themselves drawn to specific things/places/people, finding them familiar or warming up to this thing/place/person with ease. (e.g. feeling familial attachment to Pink!Steven not long after first contact with him, with the exception of Slug (lol)) This can include, but is not limited to, other absent minded behaviors; such as, inflections in speech, subtle ticks (i.e. humming, tapping feet, idle movements), specific hand gestures, ect.

#SU AU Gone Wrong #SU AU GW #ForgetMeNot AU #FMN AU #su #steven universe #steven universe au #moon ocs #Cloud #Sky #Slug #moon art #digital #ref sheet #this is the most thought ive put into an au in a while.... and the last time i did that it turned into soi LOL #a taaaad nervous to post this ngl heeeeeheheh;;

3K notes · View notes

chilling-seavey · 3 years

Text

Seasons Change (d.s.) - SEVEN

↳ A/N Sorry it's been so long since I updated this omg. I've had a few other projects on the go as well as school things and internship things but hopefully I should get back into this routine again! Anyway, here's seven!

↳ Summary: Everyone knows everything about everyone in this small rural town in east Connecticut and the handsome single father who owns the farm down the main street seems to always be the talk of the town. Balancing the care of his acreage, raising his school-age son, and coaching the local boys’ hockey team keeps Daniel busy; but his mind never strays far from the expansive and vibrant flower gardens planted outside his farmhouse.

↳ Word Count: 2621

↳ Warnings: This story touches on topics such as loss of loved ones and grief. Nothing too detailed but read at your own discretion x

Lennox turned eight on April 22nd. Marigold loved that her son was born on Earth Day since she had always been so connected with nature. He was her own little blossoming flower from the moment he was first laid in her arms. Marigold also took birthdays very seriously and after she passed, Daniel tried his very best to keep Lennox’s birthday celebrations as consistent as possible. It started even the night before when the little boy would be eating his bedtime snack and instead of a bedtime story book, he would be told the story of the day he was born. Daniel tried his best to remember all of the details with his son tucked up under his arm but honestly that long night full of excited nerves eight years earlier was a bit of a blur.

But Lennox listened contently, cuddled up against his father’s side, and tried to imagine it all himself. Daniel always made a point to mention how brave and strong and peaceful Marigold was through the whole process and Lennox beamed with pride at the thought of his darling mother being so excited to meet him.

Daniel tucked his son into bed that night with an extra hug and an extra kiss and wished him sweet dreams. It was hard to believe it had been eight entire years since Marigold came walking casually into the barn where he had been working with her hospital bag over her shoulder and said far to casually, “Ready to go? I’m in labour.” Daniel almost laughed at the memory now as he sat alone in bed that night and reminisced. The best gift Marigold ever gave him was their son. He only wished they had the opportunity and the privilege to have more together.

When Daniel went into Lennox’s room at precisely 6:30am the next morning, he lingered in the doorway a moment. There was nothing more warming than watching your child sleep so peacefully and often in the busyness that morning brought, he didn’t often take a second to truly be grateful for his blessing. Daniel knew better than anyone that time wasn’t often on your side and he basked in the present as much as he could.

After a few moments, when their schedule started to press that it was time to get on with their morning routines, Daniel pulled open the curtains to brighten the room and greeted his son with a smile as he blinked his eyes open.

“Good morning, birthday boy.” Daniel sang quietly.

Lennox grinned up at him and stretched his arms over his head with a yawn. Sidney jumped up onto his bed again and helped himself to a few licks to the boy’s cheek.

“Sleep well?” Daniel asked as he scooped up the dog.

“Yeah.” Lennox sighed, rolling over onto his side and tucked his hands under his head.

Daniel pet his hand through his hair and down his back in loving rubs before the boy started fading back to sleep again. Daniel nudged him awake, “Come on. Go collect the eggs so I can make you some birthday pancakes.”

Lennox smiled sleepily, “Dad, I wanna stay home with you today.”

“I wish, Spud. But you gotta go to school.” Daniel said as he headed around to the closet and pulled out Lennox’s favourite outfit with the hand that wasn’t holding the squirming pup. “Then when you get home we can celebrate properly.”

With the eggs collected and brought inside and Lennox washed up for the day, Daniel finished making the homemade pancakes and brought over the stack to the table with a little candle stuck on top. He sang a quiet happy birthday rendition on his own, bringing a beaming smile to his son’s face, and set the plate in front of him. The birthday boy blew out the single candle with a giggle and reached across the table for the maple syrup.

The boys ate together quietly, munching fruit and pancakes and sipping fresh milk, and soon it was time for school. Daniel held on a little longer when they shared their goodbye hug at the bus stop but Lennox didn’t mind. Daniel watched the bus leave and then hurried back up the driveway for his busy day ahead – he had given Blythe the day off. He had to finish a few things around the farm before driving farther into town for a few last minute birthday preparations.

“Morning, Daniel!” Corbyn greeted from behind the counter in the general store.

“Good morning.” Daniel answered gently as he approached.

“I have your order here. I think they sent out a few too many balloons.” Corbyn called over his shoulder as he stepped into the back of house to bring out the items.

“You can never have too many balloons.” Daniel said, admiring the few helium balloons in various shades of blue that Corbyn brought around from the back. The largest one in the center was in the shape of an ‘8’ and the smaller ones around it were in accenting colours and tied down to a weight with silver ribbon. “These look great.” Daniel complimented as he admired them. “Thank you.”

“Just doing my job.” Corbyn set a large plastic bag on the counter between them. “Plus you’d know I’d do anything for the little man.”

Daniel cracked a small smile as he peeked in the bag to count the packages of streamers and 8-themed plates and napkins inside, “I know.”

“What did you get him?” Corbyn asked as he rung up the order.

“It’s a surprise. Are you coming to the party tonight?” Daniel took out his wallet and slid a few bills across the counter.

“At the restaurant?”

“Yeah. After practice…I scheduled it early so we’ll be done around 6 or so.”

“Sure. I’d love to come. As long as I get cake.”

“Jack and his wife got the cake covered.” Daniel assured him as he took his receipt.

Corbyn tisked kindly, “Don’t know how you do it.”

Daniel only smiled politely back as he gathered his purchases, “Me neither.”

Lincoln’s only restaurant was across the street and Daniel headed right over with the balloons and decorations. The Herron’s owned the place and even though there was always a bit of tension between them and the Seavey’s, they kept things professional when it came to their restaurant.

Katie Herron greeted Daniel with a giddy squeal when he stepped inside and she rushed over to pull him into a hug, “Oh gosh, so good to see you!”

“You knew I was coming.” Daniel reminded her politely as she pulled back from him and let her hands linger on his biceps that were more than apparent under his white tank top.

“I know. And Zach and I are always so pleased that you still come here to celebrate Lennox’s birthday.” Katie smiled, squeezing his arms gently.

Daniel chuckled nervously and slunk past her, “Yes, you guys are very gracious for allowing us to come every year.”

“Of course. Isn’t that right, dear?” Katie directed to her husband behind the bar as he was wiping down a few glasses and setting up for opening later. Zach eyed Daniel for a moment but they shared forced polite smiles and he nodded. Daniel missed when Marigold would handle all this nonsense but he would keep pushing through so long as Lennox expected it.

When the decorations were given to the restaurant for after hockey and everything was planned out with Jack and their delivery of the cake later, Daniel headed back home to wrap the present, oversee a few of the finances for the farm, and then get ready for the evening celebrations and hockey practice. 3:00 snuck up on him sooner than he thought and soon Lennox was barreling inside the front door.

“Daddy! I’m home!” he shouted at the top of his lungs as he slammed the door behind him.

“Up here, Spud!” Daniel called back from his room.

Lennox took the stairs two at a time and rushed into the master bedroom with Sidney at his heels. He was breathless and grinning – mostly because he did a perimeter search when he got home to thankfully find no random women weeding the garden – and rushed right up to Daniel to throw his arms around him.

“How was school?” Daniel chuckled, leaning down to kiss his son’s head as he hugged him back.

“Great!” Lennox smiled, climbing up onto the bed as Daniel finished buckling up his belt over his light blue jeans. “My class sang me happy birthday and I got to sit in the rocking chair during reading time because it was my birthday.”

“Wow. That’s great.” Daniel said as he picked up his blue button-up from where he had draped it over the end of the bed beside the sleeping cat. He pulled it on over his white tank top and left it open.

“What are we doing tonight?” Lennox asked eagerly.

“Well, I was thinking we would go out to eat and then have hockey a little early and then eat some cake at the restaurant with the team after. Sound good?” Daniel made sure his collar was sitting right in the mirror over the dresser.

“Yeah!” Lennox cheered and jumped off the bed to run to his own room to put his school things away.

When he was freshened up a little and the dog and cat were fed downstairs and the hockey bags were put in the bed of the truck along size a nice sized gift donned with a bow, it was time to leave. Daniel had prepared everything for the celebrations to be after hockey so it was just them and their usual table when they arrived at the restaurant.

Lennox could choose whatever he wanted to eat since it was his birthday – Marigold had always tried to lean him towards healthier stuff the rest of the year, although since her passing Daniel was having trouble keeping up that rule – and he ordered a pizza to share between them. Pepperoni. Extra cheese. And a large Coca Cola.

When quarter to five came around and dinner was finished, Daniel paid the bill and they headed across the street to the community center. As the other boys arrived, they all wished Lennox happy birthday loudly and were hyped up for practice although were a bit distracted by the concept of cake waiting for them afterwards to really do much work. Daniel gave them a pass though. It was his boy’s birthday after all.

He wrapped up practice a few minutes early and locked up as the boys got back into their street clothes. Lennox waited in the locker room while Daniel showered off the sweat from practice and then they headed across the street back to the restaurant together, exchanging their hockey bags for the large, wrapped present from the truck on the way. Lennox powered ahead, helping himself to the glass pained wooden door to the local restaurant and pushed himself inside with Daniel right behind him.

As promised, the restaurant had been decorated during practice with the streamers and balloons that Daniel ordered and the huge grin on his son’s face made it so worth it. The boys’ hockey team and their parents as well as Daniel’s few friends from town were around the large table set up in the centre of the space and welcomed him with ‘surprise’ and ‘happy birthday’. Lennox just beamed up at his father and then rushed over to his spot at the head of the table.

Daniel set the gift on the nearby table where a few smaller presents were stacked and then returned to his son’s side. He pushed back his frazzled brown hair from his face, “Surprised?”

“Yeah!” Lennox smiled, eyeing the large ‘8’ balloon nearby, “It’s so cool!”

He tugged at Daniel’s blue button up to get him to lean down and he hugged him quickly in thanks before turning his attention back to his friends. Daniel didn’t mind – having an eight-year-old now meant his friends were going to be growing in importance – but he was just glad Lennox was starting to open up again after losing Marigold.

Daniel, as host of the party, took initiative to greet the guests although his eye was caught by Blythe standing with Jonah and Jocelyn nearby. He headed over to greet them casually, thank them for coming, the usual niceties that Marigold always knew how to do so easily.

“Quite the party.” Blythe complimented.

“Thanks.” Daniel chuckled softly, “It’s the eight years of practice.”

Lennox, who had been in the middle of a who-can-flick-the-crumpled-up-napkin-the-farthest contest with his friends, suddenly eyed the young woman across the room whom he didn’t give permission to be invited to his party. He would have gone over if it wasn’t for Jack who stepped up to interrupt whatever they were talking about. With an annoyed sigh, Lennox turned back to his friends.

Daniel gave Jack the go-ahead to light the candles and then he found his place back at the head of the table beside his son. Everyone sang happy birthday and applauded as the nice sized vanilla cake was brought out and set on the table in front of the birthday boy. He sat up straighter to get a good look at the white icing topped in shaky blue printing, ‘Happy 8th Birthday Lennox!’, and Daniel set his hand on the back of his chair. Everyone was staring at him with eager smiles.

“Make a wish.” Daniel whispered to his son.

Lennox pondered that for a moment, wondering what to wish for in a world full of possibilities. His last birthday wish was ‘I wish Mommy could come back’ but now he was a whole eight-years-old and he knew that wasn’t possible so he had to think of a new one. He looked at his excited friends. He looked up to his father standing at his right with his usual faint smile. He looked down the table to Blythe who was standing there with a glass of root beer and a polite smile right at him. Their eyes met for a moment but Lennox looked back to his cake quickly, shut his eyes, and spoke aloud,

“I wish for it to just be me and Daddy forever.”

He blew out the candle and the party guests applauded for cake and Daniel caressed his hand over the back of his son’s head with a flat expression, trying to hide the uncertainty in his face. He shyly glanced down the table. Blythe was staring at the floor.

Daniel didn’t think much of her outside of being their gardener but Lennox’s obvious hostility towards her just trying to do her job made his statement just a little more awkward. His heart was racing and he wasn’t quite sure why. Lennox only smiled proudly and watched as Daniel was passed the serving knife, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his single tattoo on display as he started to serve the cake piece by piece.

Lennox carefully traced over the black ink etched into his father’s skin and eyed the gold wedding band still wrapped around his ring finger. With a sweet smile that mirrored his late mother, Lennox looked up at his father and reminded him quietly, “Don’t forget to save a piece for Mommy.”

Daniel passed the plate he was holding down the row of children before dipping down to kiss his son’s head, “I would never.”

On the way home that evening, after the celebration, Daniel and Lennox took an extra stop so the birthday boy could leave a slice of cake and a weighted balloon at his mother’s grave.

Seasons Change Taglist: @stuffofseaveyy @randomlimelightxxx @jonahlovescoffee @hiya-its-amber @hopinglimelight @onlyangelavery @sbrewer21 @bessonsbxtch @viamiasoncrack @the-girl-who-cried-wolf @bessonbae @21burritoseavey

Please click the link in my bio to be added to the taglist!

#🌼#daniel seavey #why dont we #corbyn besson #jack avery #jonah marais #zach herron #why dont we fanfic #daniel seavey fanfic

41 notes · View notes

thetomorrowshow · 3 years

Text

i will make the sky collapse

Next - Read on AO3!

A/N: Hi, and welcome to my first ever fic for the Newsies fandom! This fic focuses on Crutchie’s time in the Refuge and will be six chapters long. Eac chapter will be cross-posted on my AO3. Content warnings will be posted at the beginning of each chapter, but this whole fic will be full of violence and angst.

CW: blood, intense scenes of violence, non-descriptive (but for sure uncomfortable) references to past deaths of children, a rat is eaten

There were only two boys who were by the entrance when they hauled in the new kid. Bart and Twig, eleven and thirteen respectively, were meant to be scrubbing the floor in the hall at that time, on punishment and missing whatever scraps had been scrounged up and thrown to the other kids.

News traveled uncommonly slow in the Refuge, but it was barely an hour before everyone knew. It was even less when Harley heard of it. By that time, there were already rumors spreading--some said the newcomer was barely three feet tall and no more than a sack of bones, others claimed they’d seen him walk in at a proud six feet and show himself to Snyder’s office. One thing that everyone could agree on, though, was that the kid was a newsie. Harley was sure that this kid was just like any other poor nobody who got thrown in here, but he’d have to wait until after his orientation was properly over to assess the boy.

The Refuge needed leadership, and that job had been Harley’s since Spud was freed a month before. Without a kid to keep them in line and hand out hope, the boys turned on each other, snarling and biting like they were no better than Snyder himself. The first month they hadn’t had any fight-related deaths was under Spud’s rule, and the kids were generally happier for it. With someone in charge, they had a person who would listen, a person they could blame, a person who would stop them from killing each other. Right now, that was Harley.

The kids got something else out of it too--ranks. It was amazing how much someone’s morale could be lifted just by telling them they were the treasurer, or the secretary, or the first mate. Every boy in the Refuge had a position, and each one played at pretend business like their lives depended on it--which they did. It was nice to have them cooperative, instead of nasty like they’d been before.

Working together was better than working for oneself, but it had made it harder in some ways. Just last week, they’d lost six-year-old Mark to pneumonia. If Mark hadn’t been assistant to the war general, nobody would have cared or noticed. Now they cared too much, held a service in the middle of the night with a nicked candle, and averted their eyes from his bunk that was too big to be empty at a time when they were already squished three to a bed.

Now, though, whispers were traveling through the hundred-some kids that were scrubbing at the endless grime around the building. “Newsie,” Harley heard, and “Jack Kelly.” That one came filled with wonder, excitement even. Jack Kelly was the only one of them to get out and come back with help. Jack Kelly was the kindest guy anyone had ever known. What did he get out of stealing clothes and food, then risking his own skin just to bring it to them? Nothing, but he did it anyway. And he was from before the camaraderie of hierarchy, so he really didn’t have any reason.

It was possible that the new kid knew him, but Harley wasn’t about to be caught pinning all his hope on some random boy. It wasn’t like Jack Kelly was going to break everyone out of the Refuge for one kid.

Most everyone was outside today, digging endlessly with calloused hands as the sun beat down on them. There was no purpose to the holes, other than graves. Mostly they just dug them up and then filled them back in, though it had been only last month when a guard had pushed in Justin and made them fill it up over him. Justin had been sick, though. He was going to die anyhow.

Harley tried to wipe over his eyes, only succeeding in mixing more dirt with his sweat. He hated the hours spent with the splintering shovels--they all did--but it was better than the chemical water used to clean inside. He’d had to give up a couple of meals to save Stink, who had been forced to swallow a mouthful of it by a guard.

Speaking of guards, one left the building, quite literally dragging the new kid behind him. Harley made a pretense of shoving his dirt into a neater pile, watching carefully. The boy was average-sized, maybe blonde, face too covered in blood to really tell anything else. Harley felt a slight sense of relief. A broken nose was a rite of passage here that most got from Snyder or a guard, but some (like Harley himself) had dodged it only to wake up his first night to a circle of preteens ready to sock him.

There was no real way of discerning that this kid was a newsie, other than the fact that his clothes looked a bit nicer than most of those here. Still, that didn’t mean anything. Without a newsboy cap, Harley wondered where the rumor had come from.

The guard dropped him by the two spare shovels and growled something at him, likely a command to get to work. Some of the other boys had stopped to look around at him, so Harley made a show of dropping into his hole and digging vigorously.

After an hour or so, he risked a couple of glances around. Three guards were watching them lazily, occasionally smacking a boy for working too slow. The new kid was far too slow, though, and as a result, was targeted by the guards. Harley looked away when he heard a stifled cry from his dig spot, not too far from his own. There was nothing he could do to help right now.

Eventually, though, the new boy had been beat to the ground and wasn’t getting up. Most everyone had paused in their work, glancing at him, then away, then back as two of the three thugs kicked at the boy. Dry, rasping breaths came from him, and once again, Harley turned away, back to his own backbreaking work. He’d learn soon enough that he couldn’t stay down.

But he didn’t, and less than ten minutes later, Harley was watching again. He saw as a guard stomped on the kid’s leg, earning a muffled whine, and wondered--oh. There was something wrong with his leg, he realized, as he saw how twisted the foot was. He couldn’t stand, no matter how badly the guards threatened him.

And now that Harley had noticed, he could understand the words the boy was choking out.

“My crutch, please,” he whimpered. “I ain’t gonna be able ta work without it, please, I can work, I just needs my crutch. . . .”

“Jump,” one of the guards taunted. “Jump, and we’ll let ya have it!”

The kid struggled to get up, wiping at the tears that were making the dried blood on his face run again. He couldn’t even stand, though, let alone jump. The guards kept kicking him back down, pushing him into the shallow dent he’d managed to dig so far, mocking him with the same words. It turned into a threat--”Jump, you’ll jump if ya know what’s good for you!”--then to a compromise--”Just one little jump, and we’s leavin’ you alone for the rest o’ the day.”--to a dream--”Jump, crip, and we’ll let ya go tonight!”

But the boy couldn’t jump. He couldn’t stand. Harley watched, sick, as the boy’s eyes slid closed and his grimace hardened as the guards kept whaling on him. Then he turned away again. He couldn’t worry about some new boy with no name. He had to keep his clan strong.

Eventually, the thugs got bored of beating up a kid who wasn’t responding. One of them wandered inside, the other two left to taunt Billy, and Harley let himself steal one last look at the motionless pile of rags. As he watched, the kid’s eyes flashed open and met his. Slowly, one eyelid flickered down in an unbelievable wink, accompanied by a strained grin.

That was a newsie, for sure. The rest of the kids on the street had learned to never smile years ago. Harley looked away for the last time and got back to his work. He couldn’t waste time if he didn’t want the same fate.

The guards hated this kid, dragged him to the cellar instead of to the bunks for the half loaf of bread that had to be divided up between them all. One less mouth to feed, he rationalized. They didn’t have enough to feed themselves, let alone to spare for a new boy.

Stink managed to catch a rat, crushed with the heel of his thin shoes, and was attempting to roast it over a candle when the boy got thrown into the room. All the boys went silent at a hand from Harley, then watched the new kid as he lay, breathing heavily. Eventually, his head raised, looking around the room with watery eyes.

“What’s a guy gotta do ta get a welcome ‘round here?” he rasped. No one answered. A few of the younger ones looked to Harley, including Red, who had arrived just two days prior. After a moment, Harley nodded at Twig. Twig motioned for some other boys, all members of the welcoming committee. They were proud of their jobs, and would treat him well. They wouldn’t do anything to help him proper, but they would get him a bunk and a sip of water, and what more could a man ask for?

They boy’s name was Crutchie, they found out when Twig announced it, and he was indeed a newsie, as well as crippled. He did know Jack Kelly, and said something about a newsboy strike. He said that Snyder had taken his crutch after beating him with it, and now he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to get around at all.

The welcoming committee carried him to a bunk, which, from the gravelly protests, was apparently not much appreciated. The boys all returned to their own business, which was mostly whispering among each other or trying to get a bit of the dirt off before sleeping. Harley watched the new kid, now sitting on Mark’s old bunk, from across the stuffy room, before stepping around the huddled masses to get to him.

“Name’s Harley,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand before seeing how swollen Crutchie’s fingers were. Probably stomped on; he withdrew quickly.

“Crutchie,” the kid said with another painful smile. “You was lookin’ at me outside, huh? My face that good?”

His face was terrible, to be perfectly honest. Caked in blood and dirt, Harley could just barely see the purpling lumps on his forehead and the shallow gash along his cheek.

“Nah, I’m in charge ‘round here,” Harley answered seriously. “I’s got the job of checkin’ out the new meat.”

Crutchie frowned. “Jack says there ain’t a ‘in charge’, just kids.”

“Jack Kelly?”

Crutchie nodded, and Harley chewed on that piece of information for a moment. This kid clearly knew the guy well enough that they had spoken before. Maybe he would be worth something. He wondered how much Kelly would be willing to trade for one of his own.

“Yeah, well, things is changed since Jack Kelly was here last,” Harley answered, then left for his own bunk. He’d always wondered if he was meant to say more than that, but Spud hadn’t exactly left him with a book of instructions.

He had no place for a cripple in his ranks, but he couldn’t exclude anyone or else the guys would start doing the same to each other. Spud had always said that for unity, everyone had to feel important. He’d have to think on it.

“Stink! Gimme some o’ that,” he whispered across the room. Stink sighed and tore off a pinch of the greasy, undercooked rat and dropped it into Harley’s waiting hand. The others were clamoring for some too, but not the new kid. No, Crutchie was still laid up in the bunk, gingerly checking over himself and tearing off bits of his own shirt to wrap some of his worst wounds. There was a scarily deep cut across his ribs, surrounded with swollen bruises that were barely visible in the candlelight. Harley winced. That was ugly, especially for a kid’s first day.

Something sank in his stomach, and Harley knew. That kid wasn’t going to make it out of here. He’d be lucky to survive the week. Sure, he must’ve been a survivor to make it as a newsie, but this wasn’t the streets. This was the Refuge, and that kid was just another fly caught in the Spider’s web, about to be devoured.

20 notes · View notes

redpandaramblings · 3 years

Text

A Taste so Tempting- Yandere Fatgum x Reader

🔞DEAD DOVE; DO NOT EAT🔞

Content Warnings- Dark Fic, Cannibalism, Forced Cannibalism, Yandere themes, Mutilation, Body Horror, Amputation, Medical horror, Mind Break, Not SFW, Dub Con/ Non Con

18+ MINORS DNI

This was written for the Spud Corner collab, Blood. So sorry it's extremely extremely late. It's a little sick, a little twisted, but it this kind of thing is your cup of tea, hope you enjoy.

You knew he was there. It was easy to tell as the sounds of slurping and chewing filtered into your ears. You shuddered, biting your lip to keep from whimpering at the noise of him licking and sucking grease from his thick, meaty fingers. You hadn’t paid much attention to noises like that until a few months ago when a man you had thought was a hero had kidnapped you and brought you to this remote cottage. Now you dreaded them, feeling nausea and anxiety with every crunch and every smack of the towering man's lips.

“I know you’re awake, Poppet.” Taishiro rumbled from his seat close to you. “You’ve been asleep for so long, you naughty thing.”

You blinked slowly awake, knowing he’d anger if you tried to feign sleep. Your head felt like it was full of wool. What had you been doing before? You couldn’t quite remember. You turned your head to face your captor.

The wide smile that greeted you was unsettling. How had you ever found comfort in that wide display of gleaming teeth? A mammoth hand reached out and stroked your cheek, leaving uncomfortable greasy trails in its wake. “There’s my pretty girl. I love seeing your eyes on me.”

He reached out of your view, grabbing something and then bringing it to your lips. You opened your mouth dutifully, letting the chunk of meat be placed inside. You knew the danger in refusing.

“How long was I asleep?” You mumbled as you chewed.

The food was good, like it always was. Perfectly cooked, richly seasoned. You couldn’t place exactly what the flavor was at the moment. You couldn’t bring yourself to care much, usually. You wished you could say it tasted like ash, but it never did. You could never accuse Fatgum of not knowing how to create delicious food.

“Been a couple days.” He hummed, pressing another piece to your lips. “You gave me a bit of a scare, Dumpling. But everything is going to be alright from now on.”

You nodded as you opened your mouth again, letting him feed you. You closed your eyes as you tried to sort through your confused thoughts. A couple of days? Had you been sick? No… You didn't think so, anyway. Could have been an accident? But you were barely allowed anything that wasn’t absolutely safe. Something must have happened. He only kept you asleep like that as punishment. What was the last thing you remembered?

Oh.

Of course.

You had tried to escape.

You swallowed quickly, and choked on your food. You tried to gasp for air, coughing. Fatgum sat you up and began thumping you on the back until your coughing subsided. When the coughing stopped, he laid you back down with a concerned look.

“Hey, now, you need to be careful, Sugarpop! Chew carefully. Can’t have you hurting yourself. And shouldn’t waste such precious food, either. It’s really special today, after all.”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered.

He was in a good mood. That was strange. Usually after you misbehaved, the large man would growl and rage. You’d be locked in the cold, damp cellar to think about what you had done; until you got so desperate that you begged him to let you out. He loved it when you begged, after all. So why was he in such a good mood? You had done the worst thing you could have done. You had run. You had tried to leave him.

So why was he happy?

Why was he smiling down at you?

What had happened those days you had been asleep?

You looked at your captor, trying to assess. He popped a piece of meat into his mouth, moaning obscenely in enjoyment as he began to chew. There was an easy way to find out what was going on. Risky, but certainly would be the clearest answer. After all, despite all his sins, Taishiro had never lied to you. Taking a deep breath, you murmured quietly. “Tai?”

He perked up immediately, grinning brightly. He loved when you called him Tai, loved anything that made it seem like you two were domestic. “Yes, Sweetpea?”

“I… I was a bad girl. Why aren’t you angry with me?”

His gaze was soft as he cupped your cheek with a large, greasy hand.

“I was at first. But then I realized. I finally understood why you fought and tried to run. You didn’t trust me to take care of you, that I’d keep you safe. Now yeah, that made me upset, but then I figured it out. I realized how to prove I’d always take care of you, to show how good we can be together. And well…” He giggled, high pitch and off putting. “You certainly can’t run away anymore.”

Chills ran down your spine and bile tickled your throat. A chilling realization was coming to you. You slowly tried to sit up more to look down at yourself.

“Tai?” You whispered, praying to whatever gods who were listening that you might be wrong. “Tai, why can’t I feel my legs? What happened while I was asleep?”

“Well, sweetness. Hard to feel what isn’t there anymore.”

Numbly, you tugged off the blankets covering you. Your legs were gone. Mostly gone, your mind supplied morbidly. You still had cloth wrapped stumps that seem to have been cut off above the knee. You could barely process it. It felt like they belonged to someone else, like this couldn’t possibly be you. This couldn’t be your body. But the stumps wiggled when you tried to move them. Fatgum’s hand engulfing your thigh stilled your movements.

“Isn’t it perfect, Dumpling? I have a friend who was able to help me and get you fixed up right away. Now there’s no more temptation to run. No more worrying about being bad. You don’t have to worry about being a bad girl for me, because you won’t be able to get into trouble this way. I’ll be here as much as I can to help you. Sure, I’ll have to carry ya around a little more, but that was no trouble before, and you’re even lighter now. Besides. Doing this came with a few perks. I got to experience your sweetness in a whole new way!”

You could barely keep up with what he was saying. His voice seemed muffled and far away, as if you were hearing him from underwater. You kept trying to wiggle your toes. Like, maybe if you could just wiggle your toes, they’d appear again. You could almost feel them. If you closed your eyes, it was like nothing was wrong. Nothing was wrong. Nothing except the hand on your thigh and the voice of your ear murmuring to you about how sweet you taste. What?

“I taste sweet?” You asked, managing to keep the hysteria out of your voice.

Fatgum moaned lewdly, giving your thigh a squeeze. “Darling, you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Juicy, tender, so incredibly succulent. It was all I could do to pace myself. I needed it to last. Don’t plan on ever getting any more, since you’re going to be a good girl now, aren’t you? But it’s so good to taste you like this, experience you like this.”

He reached down to the plate he had been feeding you from, popped a piece of meat in his mouth, and moaned again,his hips bucking inadvertently. He continued in a rough, breathy voice.

“You nourishing me like you? God, Sugar, it’s so amazing. You’ll be a part of me forever. We’re part of each other now. Oh, y/n, don’t you think you taste so good?”

He grabbed a piece of your flesh from the plate, warm, fresh, smelling wonderful and shoved it into your mouth. You chewed out of habit. The flavor was as good as it had been the first time you had tasted it. You tried not to think about what it was you were eating. Who it was you were eating. You managed to swallow. Your stomach roiled. You couldn’t vomit. He’d kill you if you did. You’d put your head between your knees but… You begin to giggle hysterically. You have no knees. Your laughter starts soft but quickly raises in pitch and volume. No knees!

Taishiro kissed the top of your head, nuzzling you.

“See?” He rumbled and stroked your hair. “There’s my happy girl. You’re so good in every way.”

He tilted your chin up and smothered your laughter by covering your mouth with his. He picked you up, placing you in his lap, even as his meaty tongue forced his way past your lips. He tasted like you. You tasted like you. You whimpered into his mouth, overwhelmed. Encouraged, he placed his hands on your waist. It was easier than ever before for him to manhandle you, moving you so that your panty covered fold rubbed over the obnoxiously large bulge in his pants. You didn’t fight it. What could you do, press your stubby thighs together? As if that would work. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling away from his kiss so that you could bury your face in his neck. If your eyes were closed, you could pretend this wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. This sick fuck wasn’t rutting against you. It didn’t feel good. You didn’t enjoy him treating you like you were his greatest desire.

Fatgum reached down again grabbing another chunk of warm, tasty meat. He popped it in his mouth, chewing a few times. He gripped your hair, pulling your head back just enough for him to slam his lips against yours, forcing his tongue and the warm, chewed, succulent piece of your own flesh into your mouth. Startled, near panicked, you tried to use your own tongue to push the meat back. All you did however was encourage the large man. Though it had never been your intention, soon the kiss intensified as the two of you passed the meat back and forth. The world narrowed. There was only you, and him, the movement, the taste. The fucking taste. Why did it taste good? Feel good? Why the fuck was it good?

Fatgum pulled away, leaving the piece of you in your mouth, and you swallowed unthinking. Dazed, you looked up at him, eyes half lidded. Your hips continued to rock against each other. His eyes were tender, but hungry as he smiled down at you. His thumb whipped over your lips, and you opened your mouth obediently. His grin grew. “Good girl” he murmured as he placed another piece of meat in your mouth. You moaned softly. You hated him. You hated what he had done, what he was doing. You hated his fucking smile, this fucking taste, the way your cunt was getting soaked from the steady grinding against his stupid huge cock. You hated how amazing it felt. With a groan, you leaned up, pressing your lips to his. He held you close with one arm, using his other hand to shove your panties off. They fell to the floor and you were pressed against him again. You tried to rut against him but it was hard to gain traction. Your stumps wiggled in frustration as you tried to gain more friction. Tai chuckled softly, reaching down. His greasy fingers found your clit with expert precision and your whole body jolted. He nipped at your bottom lip, teasing you. After months of being able to have you in his arms, he knew how to play your body like a fiddle. He teased you, gently rubbing the sensitive area around the clit before flicking it directly. The calluses on his fingertips added the perfect friction. He rapidly brought you close to the edge before slowly bringing you down again. You focused on the feeling. Whining, desperate. You didn’t want to think. Couldn’t think. You only could concentrate on the feel, the taste, the need between your legs. You trembled, wet and whimpering. This could continue for hours. But today… Today you needed the comfort of his cock rubbing your insides. The rumbling praise of being his good girl.

“Tai,” you panted. “Tai please, Darling.”

No name got him riled up more. It was easy enough for Taishiro to lift you up enough to unzip his pants and tug them and his boxers down. His cock sprang free. Long, and so terribly, wonderfully, deliciously thick. He didn’t bother to prep your sopping cunt before he started to push in.

Pain. Sharp, focused, burning pain where you were being forced open. This was what you wanted. No other thoughts could exist in this moment. Only this pleasure and pain and dred and acceptance. This was your life now. What else was out there for you? It was best to give in. Just give in. You rocked your hips, taking him in deeper, hissing at the burning stretch. His hands stilled you, petting your back and forcing you to slow down.

“There, now, don’t hurt yourself, Gumdrop. Let me take care of you. Be my good girl.”

You nodded, though you still lightly rocked your hips. Yes. Maybe… Maybe you should. Give in. He’d take care of you. Tai could be gentle. Could feel good. Did feel so good. You moaned when he bottomed out. It felt like he was deeper than ever before and you clung to him for comfort. Your grip tightened as he began to thrust. This could be so good sometimes. And… you liked when he called you good girl. And his. And you were his. You shuddered, arousal spiking at the thought. You were his in a way no one else had ever been, would never be. Tai groaned, picking up the pace when you tighten around him. “Like that, don’t you, good girl?” he panted. “Like when I fill you up, like when I call you my good girl. Gonna be my good girl from now on, won’t you? Only mine.”

You nodded as you were bounced on his cock. Every time he called you by that name, your pussy tightened and squeezed around him. He knew exactly how much he was affecting you. And you were so tired of fighting him. You wondered why you ever had.

“How about you cum for me, Dumpling? Come for me like a good girl, and I’ll fill you right up.”

You moaned and whimpered, beyond words and you fruitlessly tried to rut your hips. You were so close! Fatgum understood, kissing your neck as his fingers once again found your clit. A few firm strokes was all it took before your orgasm hit you. You clung to Tai, half sobbing as you came. It only took him a few more thrusts to follow you, keening and biting your neck hand enough to bruise as he came, pumping his large, thick load into your waiting womb. You both held each other, panting and quiet in the aftermath.

This is where you usually would fight. You’d scream and yell, hitting and kicking to let out your rage. But this time, the rage didn’t come. You were so tired of fighting. Fighting had gotten you nothing. You collapsed forwards, snuggling into Taishiro’s ample chest. He just wanted to take care of you, after all. Everything he’d done was for your relationship. He just wanted to take care of you. You should just give in.

Yes, you thought as he held you close, and lazily began to feed you once again.

Just give in.

#fatgum x y/n #fatgum x reader #taishiro smut #Taishiro x reader #Dark fatgum #Yandere fatgum #Dark Fic #Cannibalism #Forced Cannibalism #Yandere themes #Mutilation #Body Horror #Amputation #Medical horror #Mind Break #Not SFW #Dub Con/ Non Con #collab piece #Spud Corner

51 notes · View notes

daydream-believin · 4 years

Text

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (campfire songspell)

Summary: (part 1) Reader has joined Douxie on the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he? - (part 3) camping and fun fun crush anxiety (part 4)

Warnings: swearing, whole fish-eating, mention of blood, i’ve stopped proofreading shit

Word Count: 3678

a/n: don’t worry there’s no more haunted stuff after this. or missouri. Y/n doesn’t smoke she just feels the need to have a way to set fire to things on her person at all times. a pyromaniac, if you will. also they have been roommates this entire time i just forgot to mention it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Archie was not happy. He couldn’t believe that Douxie would just ditch him like this. It wasn’t like him. Watch the boat, Archie. We’ll be right back, Archie. That was seven hours ago. A rainstorm had come and gone even. He thought for sure that at least Y/n or Nari would have reminded the other two about his situation. But, no, here he was, soaked to the bone and still alone. In Missouri. In misery. As mad as he was though, he was equal parts worried. It wasn’t like Douxie to just forget about him. Something was wrong.

When he finally caught sight of the rest of the party returning to the ship, Arch breathed a sigh of relief. And then got ready to breath fire. Which he quickly put out, after seeing the looks on the kids’ faces once they got close enough. So something was wrong. They looked as if they’d seen a ghost.

“Are you three alright? What happened?”

“Nothing we didn’t survive. Look, we got the tent.” Douxie held up the box to show Archie. He just flicked his tail in response. “It’s already dark, so we’ll tell you all about it while we set up camp. Alright, Arch?”

Archie rolled his eyes. He still thought this camping thing Douxie was pushing was an awful idea. But he’d let his wizard familiar make his own mistakes. He’d been doing a lot of that lately, or, well, more like nine centuries. Tough love. Young wizards cannot learn until they blow up potions in their faces. And this was going to be one of those times. He’d give it till sunrise. Midnight, even. He’d make a bet with himself, if they give up before sunrise, he’d treat himself to some fresh salmon. If they stubbornly don’t give up until after, a can of tuna.

After taking the boat a way into the wooded area they were hiding in, and answering all Archie’s questions, they picked a good place to settle for the night. Or at least Nari did. Douxie and Y/n were still iffy about it. it wasn’t exactly camping spot nirvana, but Nari really took a liking to the spot and its aura or whatever. Eh, she just kind of sniffed the air and told Douxie to stop. She liked the abundance of plant life here. Lots of roots sticking up from the ground, and little berry bushes. Which was going to make for bad ground to bed down on. But that’s alright, they’ll just cushion it with extra blankets. Extra blankets that they did not have. Or even regular blankets. They had no blankets. Fuzzbuckets.

It was going to be ten degrees out later tonight. Well, Douxie guessed they’d have to go back to that ‘huddle together like penguins’ plan. Which wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, now that he’s thinking about it. Cuddling’s pretty nice. A flush spread across Douxie’s freckles. He’d get to embrace Y/n. Pretend like he couldn’t feel how soft her skin was. Pretend like he totally didn’t want to be holding her, but it was essential to their survival so he had to. Archie and Nari would be there too, snuggling with them, so he could pass it off as platonic. But would he want that. Wouldn’t it just hurt when they let go in the morning. After holding onto her for dear life all night, to just get up and act like nothing happened the next day. Would he recover from that? His blush deepened in color. No, they’ll just have to go make another trip to the store. A different store. Hopefully one that’s free of spirits this time.

But he didn’t need to spend time thinking about cuddling his crush. No, he had to set up camp. Y/n was already building the fire. She was half-way through, by the looks of it, and he was just standing here, staring into the tent instructions, blushing away and not comprehending a thing he had read. In fact, he couldn’t seem to read them now that he was focusing. Oh, look at that, they’ve been in Russian this entire time. His blush turned into an embarrassed one. Not only had he been staring off into space, he had been staring into something he couldn’t even pretend like he was reading. Lovely. He hoped no one noticed. Y/n had. Although, she had just assumed he could in fact read the Russian text and didn’t question it. Perks of being a mysterious immortal being. After barely skimming the instructions he could actually understand, Doux took the tent out of the box, to at least make it seem like he had definitely been reading this whole time and he did have the slightest idea of what he was doing.

Douxie checked back to the instructions, careful to make it look like he was just checking back over it, and not reading it for the first time. He added a head nod to make it convincing. Okay, so he needed to spread out the tent. He got down on his knees and rolled out the large bag of nylon in front of him. It took him a minute to get it to where there weren’t any folds and the shape looked right. As right as a saggy boneless tent could look. Alright, now for the poles. Douxie looked around him and found no poles. Where were the poles? Bleeding balroths, did he buy a tent without poles? Oh, no, it appears they were just still in the box. Ain’t that just the way.

Douxie got to work connecting the tent poles. Thankfully, they were connected by some sort of elastic and he didn’t have to figure out which went with which. He found the eyelets they were supposed to go in on the corners and slipped them in. it was a bit tricky, but he managed. He was glad to be able to have something to do with his hands to get his mind off Y/n. The universe did not let him avoid his thoughts for long, however, since now it was time to raise this bloody tent, which required two people, and Archie and Nari were nowhere to be seen. Of course. Y/n was glad to help him raise the tent. She was glad to hold it while he staked it to the ground. She was glad to do anything with Doux. He just felt guilty for asking.

Finally, their new home was up. For the night anyway. Curious, Y/n opened up the zipper door of the tent. It was small, but cozy nonetheless. She poked her head in to get a better look. Doux followed suit. She turned to him, to make some comment about it, but he didn’t hear a word she said. He was too focused on how her face was incredibly close to his face. Her lips, although in the middle of saying something to him, were right next to his. Could she notice he had been looking at her lips? He prayed she couldn’t notice him looking at her lips. She had. Y/n tilted her head in a gesture. She was asking him a question. Quick, response.

“HAAHAHha yes,,” Douxie panicked.

“Oh, ah, okay.” Y/n ducked back out of the tent. Oh Merlin, what did he just say to her.

***

Y/n spent a significant amount of time trying to light the fire, first with her shitty gas station cigarette lighter, then with some spark spells, when Archie came back and lit it with no problem. Damn dragons, always, breathing fire? He wasn’t around while she was struggling either so he couldn’t have helped her sooner. She was sure she had something to be irritated at him about though. He gets to sleep all day and he doesn’t have to pay bills or wear pants. Yeah, there it was. The smell of woodsmoke filled the air. It was fantastic. Y/n took a deep breath. The fire she had built wasn’t exactly a neat log cabin like she had been taught in girl scouts, but it’d work well enough to cook their dinner and keep them warm. Dinner, what were they even eating? Apparently, the answer to that question was trout that Arch caught in the river and some sort of root that Nari dug up. The roots were a bit strange, but Nari had insisted that they were delicious when roasted. Guess it was time to trust the veggie-lady and pray to the stars that they wouldn’t be spending this night poisoned.

The trout was great, although, whole. Y/n wasn’t sure how she felt about how it was looking at her while she ate it. Yeesh Archie, remove the heads? Don’t cats like to decapitate things? But it was a really good trout. Nice smoky flavor from the fire, seasoned with herbs that Nari picked. Douxie liked it, not seeming to mind the still intact head as much. He ate two. Y/n had no idea how he could fit two whole trout in his stomach but he did just that and ate some of Nari’s roasted tubers too. Speaking of which, they actually weren’t that bad. In fact, Y/n found herself eating quite a lot more of them than she expected. A quick google search revealed that they were something called a fairy spud. Y/n made a mental note to go look for some when she got home. If she got home. Maybe home would be different by the time they were safe from the Order. Maybe they’d make a new home. Of course, they’d have to since Douxie fucking burned down the apartment they shared along with their place of business. Her roommate could be a real dummy sometimes, but that was okay, it was entertaining. And cute. His recklessness was very cute. She’d even call it endearing.

The fire cracked loudly, scaring Y/n out of her revelry. Douxie had also jumped beside her. It was a very loud crack indeed. Archie looked smug. Y/n wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was pride for the trout that he had caught himself. Y/n wasn’t about to pretend to know what went on in an ancient cat-dragon’s head. And she had been taught not to meddle in the affairs of dragons, for she would be quite tasty baked into a blood pie.

She wasn’t sure what was hotter, the fire or her face. Y/n supposed that she was lucky for that fire, to blame on for her flushed cheeks. Douxie was not only sitting beside her, but right beside her. They were just sitting on the still-damp ground, there was plenty of space. He had said something about the smoke being too annoying over on the other side, but that didn’t mean he had to sit so close to her. Not that she didn’t want to be sitting right next to him. She’d focus on the fire, she loved fire. Just focus on the flickers and the popping and the smell. And she couldn’t stop thinking about him next to her. It was just, a little much right now. Too romantic. It was like Douxie and the fucking universe were conspiring to take her out. In both senses of the word. Stars, they were practically all alone out here, sitting by the fire, rubbing shoulders, and oh look at that, he’s got a guitar now.

Douxie had gotten a bit bored just staring into the fire, and desperately needed to distract himself from the fact that he just sat so close to Y/n. Why the hell would he do that. She had noticed, he just knew she had noticed. Time to salvage his pride. What better way to fix all those problems than with some good ol’ fashioned campfire songs? Luckily, he always had a great instrument with him now. Transfiguring his staff, he started to play. He’d stay away from the rock and roll for now since it was literally ten o’clock at night and they didn’t need any park rangers showing up. At first, he just played some classics with the volume turned down, then just practiced some riffs for a while, but once he noticed both Y/n and Nari get noticeably sleepy, he switched to a softer, sweeter melody. His fingers expertly plucked at the guitar strings, and also Y/n’s heartstrings in the process. It was such a beautiful lullaby he was playing. She wished she could hear him play it every night.

Nari was the first to head into the tent for the night. She curled up in one of the corners. Y/n would follow her, but Doux was still playing that lullaby, and she didn’t want to miss a note. It was like it was putting, well, a spell on her. She had a really hard time keeping her eyes open despite her will to keep listening to him, but Douxie picked up on it, stopping to her dismay.

“Come on, Love,” He scooped her up as if she were a child, “Let’s get you to bed,”

He carried her to the tent, but stopped dead in his tracks at the entrance. Fuzzbuckets, he forgot about the no-blanket problem. Archie was going to stay awake and keep the fire going through the night, so the cold was no longer a problem, but the ground was going to be hard and lumpy. Their backs were going to be incredibly sore in the morning. Great. He’d let Y/n use his chest as a pillow. No hidden motives here, it was just chivalry. Once they settled into a comfortable and totally not weird position, they began to enjoy a peaceful night sleep to the sounds of nature. Which lasted half an hour before the tent decided that was enough.

It kept shaking, as if someone or something was assaulting it. But whenever one of them got out to fend off the attacker, no one or thing was out there. And Archie was out there, watching it, and he reported nothing unusual. So, maybe the tent they bought from a haunted store was haunted. Who could have predicted that. Oh well, it’s not like it was that endangering, just annoying. They tried their best to ignore it.

But haunted tent did not like being ignored. That lovely woodsmoke smell shifted into, something strange, like, diet blood? The sickly smell of blood but lighter, gentler, and faint. As if the tent wanted to scare them but wasn’t really into it today. Again, not really that endangering as it was annoying so they elected to ignore that also. Nari didn’t seem to be on board with that decision however, and left to go lay by the fire with Archie. Douxie was acutely aware of the head resting on his chest. He was trying his best to control his heart rate and was failing. There was no way Y/n couldn’t feel it. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this. Lady Fortune smiled upon Doux. The tent abruptly collapsed in on them.

***

So plan B was to find an inn for the night. After making sure the fire was out, they headed off into town on foot. It was eerily empty, nothing but the occasional car passing through town, but they were in middle-of-nowhere Missouri. The lack of nightlife at could be excused. It was two in the morning; most townies weren’t out partying. The traffic lights reflected off the pavement. It was odd seeing the lights run with nothing there at the intersection, like they were directing invisible traffic. As if there were ghost cars. Maybe they should just get out of this town actually. And they would have, if they weren’t so exhausted that they felt like zombies. Absolutely knackered.

There were exactly three inns in this dinky little town. One that was very fancy, in which they couldn’t even afford to stay in a broom closet at, one that was run-down and cheap, but full, and the last one, their only available option, which was somehow even more run-down and sketchy than the other. Just looking at the outside of it, it was pretty obviously haunted. Or it could be that the people who worked there were really committed to Halloween decoration and got an early start this year. Yeah. The man at the front desk wasn’t exactly a friendly character either. All in all a bit dodgy. Y/n was getting quite antsy, and not only from the creepy vibe. This was the last-resort inn, and with the other one full, there was a good chance that this one might not have the most ideal rooms available. And she had read enough cheesy fanfiction in her life to know exactly where this was headed.

Sure enough, the gentlemen at the front desk informed them that the only room they had left was in fact that famous room with only one bed. She’d snort if this wasn’t killing her inside. She quickly put up a poker face. Douxie balked at the information, but they were desperate, so he quietly accepted his fate and took the room key. Lady Fortune could be kind of a bitch actually. The journey down the hall was awkward as hell. Nari wasn’t sure what was going on, but she didn’t like the atmosphere. She looked up at Y/n and took her hand. Y/n smiled down at the forest child. Nari didn’t return the smile.

They entered the room and took it all in. The first noticeable thing was the smell. Not blood this time thankfully, but stale dust and mothballs. They could work with mothballs. Nari wasn’t visibly repulsed by mothballs. The carpet was sticky. It’d be best not to think about why. There was that cursed full size bed. The only bed left and it’s not even a queen. Douxie and Y/n weren’t even going to be able to have any distance between them. Douxie took a deep breath. There was a shabby little dresser with a tv from the 70’s perched upon it. You know the ones with the rounded screens, big dials, and bunny ear antennas? Y/n wasn’t even going to try turning that on. She got the feeling whatever was on the local channels was not something she’d want to see. She’d not even check the news station for the weather report. Whatever stories were newsworthy in this town was not something she wished to know about either. There was a small armchair in the corner. The floral fabric was torn, revealing that it had been reupholstered recently. Nari took a liking to it and curled up for the night. Archie joined her and got comfortable. Doux cursed under his breath. He had been counting on Archie staying in the bed with them, to make it less awkward.

Y/n was sitting on the edge of the left side of the bed, dragging her fingers through her hair. Douxie put some protective wards around the door. He’d ward up the windows too, but there weren’t any. It added to the suffocating feeling in his chest. Y/n added some purification spells to keep out any less-physical surprise guests. Walking over to the chair, Doux took off his jacket and laid it over Nari and Arch. They looked cozy. He was glad someone would get a good rest out of this. He was sure Y/n would too. It was just him with this bloody problem. He’s the fool who caught feelings here. He must surely be mad. She finished combing out her hair and snuggled under the covers. Guess it’s time for him to get in too now. In the bed. Next to her. All domestic and such.

It only took but a few seconds before Y/n was out like a light. All that sleepiness and such. Despite being the sleep deprived one here, he was wide awake unlike her. The moment the receptionist had told him there was only one bed left, it was like he took a double shot of espresso. Nervous energy, straight into his veins. He normally wouldn’t sleep like this, stiff as a board on his back, but he wouldn’t dare move. They were so close. She still smelled like the fireside, a welcome change from the staleness of the air, yet still a reminder of just her close she was. It was so quiet in the room, all Douxie could hear was the faint blowing of the vent and the pounding of the drum in his own chest. And her breathing, Merlin, he could hear her breathing. It was so soft. He unconsciously synchronized his own breath to it. He wondered how she looked right now, all cozy and asleep. Surely, she looked adorable. Maybe her hair was in her face. Perhaps she was even drooling. He dared not look over to see.

Lady Fortune cackled. Y/n turned over in her sleep, and latched onto Douxie. Oh fuzzbuckets, bleeding balroths, by Merlin, Mordrax’s miracles, fuck. She wrapped her arms right around his chest and nuzzled into it. His face was fire engine red. Whatever chill left in the air was now gone. Her soft hair was tickling his face. She was obviously still asleep right now, and thought that she was cuddling a pillow, or stuffed animal, or, or whatever she cuddled. What was he supposed to do about this? What the hell was he supposed to do. Did he cuddle back? He wanted to cuddle back. He couldn’t cuddle back. He took a deep, calming breath. He should just try to get her off. After, several attempts however, he realized that wasn’t going to happen without waking her up. And he did not want to wake her. He accepted his fate once again tonight. He could feel both his willpower and consciousness fading. Might as well enjoy these last few moments while they lasted, too. It could quite possibly be the only time he’d ever get to fall asleep next to her. In her tender arms. Getting to not just listen to but also feel her breathe. Truly a bittersweet thing.

***

a/n 2: ha! here you go, not one but two glorious there’s only one bed moments. my rite of passage as a fanfic writer. stay tuned next time for oh my god they were roommates

#douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux casperan x reader #hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan imagine #douxie casperan x reader #douxie casperan imagine #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #douxie casperan #my writing #the never ending roadtrip

86 notes · View notes

flowers-creativity · 3 years

Text

Fic: The One Bed Job

Fandom: Leverage

Characters: Eliot Spencer, Parker, Alec Hardison

Warnings: None

Summary: A rainstorm forces Eliot, Parker and Hardison to take shelter in a cabin in the woods. There is only one problem ...

Notes: Written for Spud (@callipygianspud) for the @leverage-secret-santa-exchange with the prompts “Parker/Hardison/Eliot, oh no one bed?!?!, slice of life bickering”.

There are a lot of firsts in this story for me, most notably that it's my first Leverage fic ever! It was a lot of fun working on it - thanks to the mods of the Leverage Secret Santa Exchange for organising this 😊.

I’m late in posting it because I missed that the authors had been revealed but finally, here it is on my blog, too.

AO3 link

Eliot threw the truck into park and stared out the windshield at the desolate view: a cabin in the middle of the woods, looking small and forlorn in the wind that had been picking up speed over the last hour. Rain was driving diagonally across the picture, and he didn't want to make any bets on how long it would be until it was going fully horizontal. “Damn it, Hardison, that's the best you can do?”

“Hey man, you wanna try finding a place to stay in the middle of nowhere during a rainstorm, with no advance warning?” Hardison twisted in his seat and stabbed a finger at him. “I'm not freaking clairvoyant, couldn't have known it woulda hit so hard!”

“Yeah, well, always actin' like you are,” Eliot growled as he unbuckled his seat belt. There was no use arguing, they were out of other options. Not that it would stop him from doing it anyway. “C'mon, let's look at that rat's nest you found for us.”

“No appreciation, man,” Hardison mumbled. He took off his seat belt, then twisted around and nudged the lump that was Parker on the backbench, just a shock of blonde hair peeking out from under the blanket she'd wrapped herself in. “Hey mama, we're here. Time to wake up!”

The lump protested sleepily but finally uncurled to reveal the thief who stretched and yawned mightily. “Where's here?” she asked.

“Cabin in the woods,” Hardison said. “Storm's getting pretty bad, so Eliot wanted to stop driving. Never mind that we're in a Faraday cage,” he added, raising his voice so the hitter just about to close the driver's side door could hear him, “but apparently the only thing frightening big bad Spencer is some lightning. Can't hit that, eh?”

“Hardison,” Eliot said grumpily, pulling the door open again, “you wanna wrap the car around a tree 'cause you can't see with the rain comin' down so hard, be my guest.”

Parker snorted and leaned forward to give Hardison a quick peck on the nose. “He's got a point there,” she pointed out.

Eliot flashed her a quick look of thanks, fighting down the incongruous urge to have a corner of his mouth tick up. It wasn't a smile; it wasn't. And it wasn't a problem that his face constantly wanted to do that around those two lately. He finally slammed the door shut and switched on the heavy-duty flashlight he kept in the truck's cabin at all times. He more sensed than heard the passenger side's door opening and the other two hustling after him as he made his way towards the cabin, the rain soaking him down to the skin within moments.

The door was locked; he contemplated it for a moment, then stepped aside. “Parker, do your thing,” he commanded, directing the beam of light onto the lock. She gave a quick sound of delight and dove forwards with her lock picks appearing in her hands like magic. That lock wouldn't take her more than five seconds, he knew, but even that was probably a treat for her after an exhausting job that had her do most of the grifting. No matter how much she had grown and learned since they had become a team, coming into her own in both the grifter and the mastermind role, she would never love it as much as she did the jobs where she could be what she really was, a cat burglar and safecracker.

It was maybe eight seconds until the lock clicked and Parker stood back up. She frowned a bit at the door as she pocketed her lock picks. “Sorry, I'm off my game,” she said.

Hardison huffed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Don't be ridiculous, babe, you're fine. A bit tired, that's all.”

Eliot nodded and gave her a quick pat on the back before he pushed open the door and went ahead into the cabin. “Stay here,” he told them as he swept the flashlight's beam through the room.

Hardison rolled his eyes so hard Eliot could hear it even though he had his back turned. “No need to unpack the guard dog routine, El,” he said, and another flashlight beam joined his. “It's a cabin in the middle of the woods. If there's anything dangerous, it'll be a bunch of spiders or a raccoon at best. C'mon, I wanna get inside and get dry.”

Eliot flashed him a nasty grin over his shoulder. “You're the geek, tell me how many horror movies there are that look just like this,” he said. “And how the black guy usually does in them.”

“Damn, man, don't you use pop culture against me, that's just wrong,” Hardison complained.

Parker snorted a laugh, still leaning against Hardison's side. “We'll protect you, Eliot and I,” she told him earnestly, then slipped from his arm and had his flashlight in her hand a blink of an eye later. “I'll help him make the security sweep, and you find out if there's electricity.”

Hardison sighed in defeat and waved them off, shaking his head. “Then go do what you gotta do.”

“Nice to know we have your approval,” Eliot said with a smile that was all teeth and very little warmth (no matter that he wanted to put a lot more into it). Nevertheless, he didn't further protest Parker's joining him and sent her off to check one of the two doors leading from the main room while he finished sweeping its meager contents – a small table with two rickety chairs, a wood stove and an old cupboard that held a little bit of crockery, a battered pot and a few cans of soup. He left Hardison to poke around near the stove, mumbling to himself about barbaric conditions and using his phone as a flashlight, and headed for the second door.

It didn't take much time to determine that this was the bathroom, such as it was, and little more to check the shabby toilet and sink – they worked, which was probably the best they could hope for. When he emerged back into the main room, he found that Parker had just done so, too, and was now perched on the table. For once he could not fault her for her propensity never to sit on a chair like a normal person; the table looked like a much safer bet.

“That's the bedroom,” she reported immediately once she caught sight of him coming back, pointing at the room she had checked. “Nothing there but a lot of dust and spiderwebs.” She grinned brightly. “Only one bed, though. We'll have to snuggle close, it's not very big.”

“Wa---” Eliot was vaguely aware that he was standing there gaping like a moron but his mind was stuck on Parker talking about snuggling in one bed.

“Huh, what was that, Eliot?” Hardison had abandoned whatever he had been doing with the stove – couldn't have been lighting a fire, he severely doubted Hardison could do that – and came over, leaning against the wall next to the table with Parker on it, both of them weirdly illuminated by the display light of Hardison's phone.

Eliot finally marshaled his thoughts enough to grind out: “I'm sure you'll be fine for one night. I'll take the floor.” Parker must have been talking about herself and Hardison anyway, no reason to assume that she wanted to snuggle with him – even if his traitorous heart had done just that.

Parker frowned. “What? No, you won't,” she said with a shake of her head. “Not when there's a bed and no reason for you to be on watch. We'll fit in there the three of us.”

“Wha-- Dammit, Parker, you can't just get into bed with any man!” Eliot protested.

“Fine, then Hardison and you can take the floor.” She folded her arms over her chest and stared at him, the challenge more conveyed by her tone than by her expression he couldn't see too clearly in the gray light on her face. Next to her, Hardison made an outraged sound, just as Eliot sputtered:

“What? No, why should Hardison sleep on the floor?”

“Well, if I can't get in bed with any man, then I can't get in bed with you two, since you're both men,” she said with a shrug, in that tone that clearly said that she thought she was being perfectly reasonable.

“But he's not any man,” Eliot pointed out, “he's your boyfriend.”

“Okay,” she said, cocking her head to the side in one of those moves that made her look sort of like a bird, “but you're not any man, too. You're Eliot. My--” she broke off, gave a short sideways glance to Hardison and then continued: “Our-- You're Eliot. So you can come, too.”

Eliot sputtered again, and how did she always manage to have that effect on him? He was Eliot goddamn Spencer, he was always in control, but she stole it from him as easily as pick-pocketing a watch was for her, with nothing more than a few words and looks. He desperately looked to Hardison. “Back me up here, c'mon, man!”

Hardison, the son of a bitch, just shrugged, his teeth white in the dim light as he grinned. “You heard the lady,” he said, “you're not any man, so you can get in bed with her, I mean, with us, any time.”

“I-- But--!” Eliot raked his left hand through his hair, casting around for the right thing to say, to make sense of these words in a way that didn't make warmth spread through his chest and … somewhere else that had made a very specific sense of it and was sitting up and taking notice. In the back of his mind, another part was busy pointing out that in a way, any man was probably better to have in your bed than Eliot Spencer. It was surprisingly easy to disregard this voice, though, just as Parker and Hardison disregarded his words whenever he pointed it out to them. He had told them so a hundred, a thousand times, even had shown them glimpses of it a few times – the swimming pool, probably even the warehouse, despite Nate's promise not to tell anyone – and they had always sailed past it without the slightest worry despite what he had been, what he still was. And he knew it was true: whatever danger he presented, it never was a danger connected to his past. Only to a present that he held sacred in his heart like a talisman, like he had held preciously little since he had lost faith in God and the American flag and whatever else he had believed in once upon a time.

“Helloo-ho!” Hardison suddenly loomed up in front of him, his face just inches away from him. “Earth to Eliot!”

Eliot honest to God flinched and took a step back. “Dammit, Hardison!”

The hacker raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “You back with us, man?” He looked him over seriously. “Honestly, I'm starting to think you're getting sick. You're usually more with it than that.”

Eliot took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face. “I'm fine,” he gritted out. He let his shoulders slump down. Sleeping in one bed it was. “You had any luck with that stove?” he asked Hardison in a bid of hopefully redirecting the conversation.

Hardison shrugged. “Not really, there's some old ashes and half-burnt wood in it but I don't have a lighter. I'm sure you can get it going, right? Don't tell me you haven't been a Boy Scout, too.”

“Nope.” Eliot hoped the relief and eagerness with which he fell into their banter was not too obvious. “Army boot camp's better than that, anyway. Plus, y’know, spending lots of time in the actual wilderness, not some parent's backyard.” He dug into one of his pockets for a lighter and wandered over to the stove, angling the flashlight beam into the open compartment.

Parker had her chin in her hands as she watched him with her usual Parker intensity. “Backyards sound boring,” she agreed. “But you should take us camping some time! We can throw Hardison off a cliff instead of a building!”

This time it was Hardison who was sputtering, and Eliot couldn't resist, he laughed, a bark that reverberated deep in his chest. “That's a great idea, darlin',” he drawled, grinning at the hacker.

“Now that's just unfair! Two against one! And no one's throwing Hardison off any cliffs, are we clear? Are we clear?”

Parker pouted at him. “Aww. You went on that fishing trip with Eliot, didn't you? I want to do something like that with you, too, with both of you.”

Eliot scowled at the reminder of how their fishing trip hadn't happened after that stand-off with a white supremacist militia. “Not exactly like that, preferably,” he growled under his breath. Louder, he said, “I think Hardison had a problem with the cliff thing, not with going on a trip with you, Parker. We can keep that in mind, okay? For now, just let's get through the night.”

In the meantime, he had kept working on the stove, pushing the old ashes to the side and rearranging the partly burnt wood into a neat pile. He looked around for some old paper to start the fire, then reconsidered. The small fire would be pretty useless to heat or light the room.

“Any of you hungry? There's some soup in cans.”

Hardison and Parker exchanged a look, then shook their heads.

Eliot sighed and stood up, brushing off the knees of his jeans. “Then we don't need to bother with the fire. We'd need some candles or a torch for some real light. Don't think it would produce much heat to get the room warm, either.”

Parker shrugged. “I don't have any candles.”

Hardison grinned. “I guess if we're cold, we just need to snuggle close in our bed,” he said, and Eliot's belly did another backflip at the thought of the three of them in one bed together.

Parker laughed and dropped down from her perch on the table, grabbed Hardison's hand, then lunged and did the same with Eliot's. “Come on, I'll show you,” she said brightly and pulled them over to the door she'd discovered the bedroom behind earlier.

“Parker, that's --- Parker, I can walk on my own,” Eliot protested but it was halfhearted at best. He turned towards Hardison but found little sympathy there.

“Just go with the flow,” the hacker told him. “Relax.”

Eliot bit back a retort and instead just took a deep breath, his feet automatically following where Parker led. Relax. As if that was a thing he could do when he was about to get into the same bed as his two best friends. As the two people he-- He-- His thoughts kept stalling but he knew the word that should go there.

In the small bedroom, Parker let go of his hand, and he took in the room and the furniture occupying it, which was just one more of those rickety chairs, with Parker's flashlight on it casting a beam through the shadows, and the bed itself. It was small indeed, and short enough that Eliot guessed Hardison's feet would hang over the edge. Parker and he should be fine – for a certain measure of fine when he was intruding where he didn't belong. Never mind that they seemingly didn't see anything wrong with it, even though they were the couple…

Meanwhile, Parker had taken possession of the bed, pulling back the covers. She looked back at the two men contemplatively, then shrugged and quickly pulled off her shirt, sending it flying toward the chair. At Eliot's spluttered “Parker!”, she shot him an annoyed glare. “What? It's wet,” she explained as she unzipped her pants and shimmied out of them, then threw them after the shirt. Eliot averted his eyes and prayed for strength.

When he looked back, she had slipped under the covers, and Hardison was sitting at the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes and socks, his phone on the quilt next to him. Hardison looked up at him, and his dark eyes were soft in the beam of Eliot's flashlight. “Eliot, man,” he started, then stopped, then started again. “Look, man, you don't have to if you don't really feel comfortab-- Ouch, Parker!” The thief had straightened up and slugged him in the back of the shoulder. “C'mon, he should only do it if he really wants to!”

“But he does!” she hissed at him, then turned towards Eliot. “You want to, right? You want to be with us. Like, here with us.” She gestured between the two of them and then the bed as a whole, and Eliot's heart constricted in his chest. Yes, God, how he wanted to.

“Because we want you, too.” She looked at him hopefully, not bothered in the least that the blankets were pooling in her lap and she was only wearing a simple black sports bra in the cabin's cool air. He tried to look away but couldn't, not when her eyes were holding him captive like that. They wanted him? Just for snuggling in a small, unheated cabin in the middle of nowhere? Or… for something more?

Eliot pushed that thought way back in his mind. He needed to stay in the here and now. And maybe, just maybe, he could just be selfish tonight and take what they were offering. If that was all it was, he would deal with it. Would it be better or worse than never having had any of it? He didn't know.

Hardison was looking at him steadily. “Your decision, El,” he told him, “but we're here. Whenever you're ready, we'll be there.”

And that—that did actually sound like this was more than just a night of snuggling close for warmth. Eliot took a deep breath, closed his eyes and released it. When he opened them again, he nodded. “Yeah,” he said roughly. “Yeah, I'm--” He stopped and decided to give up trying.

Instead, he put his flashlight on the chair next to Parker's, then bent down to untie his boots and quickly stripped off his jeans and his soggy outer layers, leaving him in a mostly dry T-shirt and boxers. A few more steps brought him to the bed where Hardison had joined Parker under the covers, his torso bare. Both of them were looking at him with so much hope that it was the easiest thing in the world to lift the edge of the covers and slip in after them. He smiled at them and said softly, “Hey.”

“Hey you,” Hardison said and as if it was nothing, he put his arm around Eliot's shoulders and pulled him close. From his other side, Parker put her arm across Hardison's body until her small, strong hand rested on Eliot's chest. “I'm glad you're here,” she told him. Then she gave him a short whack. “So now, snuggling and sleep,” she ordered. “The rest can wait until tomorrow.”

Eliot felt his smile grow into a grin and turned it into the crook of Hardison's neck. “Yes, ma'am,” he replied seriously.

And as he crowded closer to Hardison and reached for Parker with an arm across the other man's stomach, Eliot did as any good soldier would do and followed the order given by his leader. It was probably his favorite order of all time.

#flower writes #fanfic #leverage #secret santa exchange #eliot spencer #parker #alec hardison #there's only one bed #OT3 #hardison/parker/eliot

35 notes · View notes