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mandomaterial · 10 months

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Miguel when you get turned into a child

This popped into my head and i couldn’t resist writing it! || Masterlist

So first of all it was all an anomaly’s fault, some crazy scientist that shot you with some kind of ray and it turned you into a child almost instantly, the thing was that your memories also reverted to childhood. So there you were, Miguels cute ass girlfriend turned into an even cuter kid. At first Miguel was unsure how to act, but he decided to finish off his enemy and then come pick you up. So he just shot you a calming look saying, “Stay here okay? I’ll be right back.” And back he was. He picked you up and sat you on his hip, opening a portal with his other hand. It looked like you were a bit shy as a kid so he tried getting you to open up to him by asking easy questions. The first one being obvious “Hey,.. do you remember me?” You shook your little head and averted your eyes, a bit scared of what just happened. “Um okay, well then I’ll tell you,” he tried to describe your relationship as something other than romantic “I care for you very much and you like me a lot as well, I’ll take care of you until everything is back to normal, okay?” He knew that kids liked being involved in decisions so that’s just what he did, he asked your opinion and you nodded, feeling a little more confident and looking at him. “So what’s your favourite color?” Miguel asked a bunch of simple questions wich you answered with glee every time!

After explaining what happened to his team he proceeded to take you home, to his large penthouse, but not before stoping at a toy store, that you had seen on the way. So now he was standing next to your small form, looking at the different stuffed animals. Up until now, he had carried you up and down the isles, showing you everything that there was to see, he told you that you could pick one thing for being so brave today and he quickly found out that stuffier were your favourite. Miguel suddenly felt a tug on his pants, pulling his attention to you “I- i think I wan that oneee” you pointed up, your little tongue had a little trouble pronouncing some words and Miguel thought that he was gonna die from your cuteness, he smiled and picked you up again, lifting you to the top shelf “Wich one?” You leaned forward almost falling out of his arms, wrapping your little fingers around a brown bunny with a little bow round it’s neck. “Woah, there sweetie, don’t fall off okay?” You nodded softly hugging your bunny “m’kay”. He paid for the toy and sat you back in the car, making sure you buckle your seatbelt.

It was already pretty late so he wasn’t surprised when he found you dozing in the back seat cuddled up to your bunny. The two of you weren’t home yet, Miguel had to make another stop at a child’s clothing store for you. He carefully picked you up from the leather seat, sitting you in his right arm, leaning your head against his shoulder, making sure that you were still sleeping, your tiny snores tickling his ear. He went over to the preschool section and picked out anything that caught his eye, for all he didn’t know how long you were going to stay this size. Wich a bunch of colourful shirts and pants in his basket he walked over to the checkout. The woman there cooed at you “Aww isn’t she just a darling, tired out from a day of fun with dad huh?” Miguel just smiled, agreeing with her and paying for the clothes.

Now with nothing left to do he drove the two of you to his place, parked in the driveway, walked over to the elevator and rode it up to the top floor. You’re ere a comfortable weight in his arms, sleeping on his chest. He brought his hand up to your back and patted you a little, his large hand almost as wide as the small of your back, he cuddled you a bit and to be honest he did it more for himself than you, you were just too a adorable!

Once in his apartment he quickly laid you down on his large soft bed, giving you the softest pillow so that your neck wouldn’t hurt in the morning, he covered you with the blanket and watched you snuggle and nuzzle your rabbit. A little later, after finishing a bit more work he got ready for bed as well. He crashed into bed, rolling over onto his side, when he suddenly felt something small wiggle against his side, he looked down and saw you, fast asleep and comfortable against his warm muscle. Miguel laid one of his arms around your small body and cuddled closer, falling asleep with.

Early next morning he was awaken by something crawling over him and sitting on his chest, suddenly he was shaken away with tiny hands, that barely even moved him. Miguel sat up pulling you with him, “Good morning Cariño” he stroked his fingers through your messy hair carefully untangling it “are you hungry?” “Uh-Uh! Yeah! I wan bweakfast!” You yelled with your cute high pitch voice.

Miguel got up and out of bed, carrying you over to the kitchen, sitting you down on top of the island. He then turned around grabbed a couple fruits and started juggling them, giving you a little show. You on the other hand squealed and giggled in utter joy. Miguel carefully threw an apple at you, wich you caught with two little hands. After that little fun, he started cutting the fruit into little animals, the apple into bunnies, the orange into a snail and the pear into little butterflies. You soft hands clapped in amusement and your smile only grew as you squealed. He put the fruit on a plate and gave you a small cup of fruit yogurt as well. As you ate he started brushing your hair and once it was untangled he parted it in two and started braiding. In the end your hair was beautifully styled with little bows at the ends of your braids.

Miguel decided that he would take a day off work to spend it with you, how could he resist you after all? He took you to the park to play and feed ducks, when it was time for lunch he took out the lunchboxes from his car and sat at a park table with you, helping you cut into your fried chicken with rice, while you were eating he felt your small hand wrap around two of his fingers, showing him that you cared about him. This was still something you did when you were normal and now he’d seen first hand that its a childhood habit, wich just makes it even more adorable.

#miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel ohara x reader fluff #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #Miguel O’hara fluff #Miguel x child reader #Miguel O’hara x child reader #Miguel x cute reader #Miguel ohara fluff

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amjustagirl · 10 months

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when the sun meets the moon outtakes: in which Bokuto adopts a dog

pairing: bokuto koutaro x f! reader

genre: romance, family fluff

wc: 900

a/n: as the name suggests, an outtake from my fic when the sun meets the moon.

Bokuto Koutaro is a kind man with a good heart.

You grew up experiencing crudeness and petty meanness and you’ve grown jaded, expecting nothing more of people, but ever since Bokuto came into your life, he’s made you believe that there is kindness and goodness in the world, if only you stop to look. And so you fell in love with him, your sunshine boy with a heart of pure gold, got married after he proposed to you in front of thousands of volleyball fans, popped out three gorgeous sons.

“A wolfpack”, Kiyoomi names your little Kous, his lips tilting upwards when he’s called in as reinforcement by Hinata when Bokuto brings them into practice . You think the name quite fitting considering the way they boisterously roll around with their father and find themself in mischief in a myriad of ways, though you suspect Kiyoomi’s opinion of said wolfpack nosedives dramatically after his daughter is inducted as an honourary member with a ridiculous ritual involving a homemade obstacle course in his living room, aided and abetted by Koutarou himself.

In this instance, however, Sachiko is very much the instigator of mischief.

You should’ve noticed something was off when she yelled a panicked “bye auntie!” and bounced past you at breakneck speed to get out of your front door.

“Huh”, you say. “How strange.”

What’s even stranger is that none of your sons come out to greet you. Usually they’d be racing to see who reaches her first when she gets home from a long day of work, the winner celebrating by leaping into your arms (and oftentimes knocking you flat onto the floor). What’s a hundred million billion times stranger (Kousuke’s words, not hers, he’s started learning bigger numbers at school) is that Koutaro himself isn’t coming out to wrap you in his arms with a bear hug, peppering you with questions about your day.

“Kou?” you call. Usually that’s enough to get all four of them running, but not today.

You slip off your shoes. There’s a suspicious looking packet by the dining table that catches your eye. A happy looking dog in bright colours on the front of the packet is all you need to know.

Leaving on your socks to dampen your footsteps, you press your ear to your sons’ bedroom.

“Hide him in the wardrobe ‘til okaa-san sits down for dinner!”

“He’s not going to stay in the wardrobe for a whole hour?!”

“How d’you even know it’s a he? Sachiko said it might be a she!”

You throw open the door. Four faces turn to look at you, three a picture of practised innocence, your husband alone looking guilty.

“Is there something I should know about?” you ask.

“Nothing!” your sons shout in perfect synchrony. Bokuto stares at the floor. You can almost see his ears droop.

You take pity on him, striding over to throw open the wardrobe. A puppy with yellow fur and a stub for a tail stares woefully at you. You resist the urge to drop to your knees and squeal at its utter cuteness.

“And what do we have here?” you do your best at trying to sound stern.

Finally, your husband speaks up. “Babyyy”, he tries pleading, though he stops short as you raise an eyebrow. “The kids found this poor little thing in the drain and it looked so cold and hungry I said we should take it home and take care of it ‘til it’s okay.”

Your boys sense a moment of weakness.

“‘Kaa-sannn it was shivering” Kouji does his best attempt at pouting pitifully.

“And it was raining”, Kouichi reasons. “We couldn’t leave it there! It’d be sad!”

Kousuke, your youngest, rounds up the rear with his most devastating weapon, puppy dog eyes of his own. “Kaa-san pleaseeee can we keep it?”

“Fine”, you sigh, making a show of exasperation because your boys, if left unchecked, would bring every pitiful critter and being under your roof and you have no desire for your home to turn into a menagerie. “We’ll take it to the vet on the weekend, and discuss if we can keep it if it isn’t microchipped okay?”

Cheering, your boys run out of their bedroom to acquaint the puppy to its new home.

You turn your attention to Bokuto. “Kou”, you start to say, but he’s already hugging you close.

“Sorry”, he chuckles. “I know I should’ve talked to you first about it.”

You poke his chest. “Sometimes, I wonder how that big heart of yours fits into your chest.”

“I’m sorry -”

“Don’t be”, you smile. “That’s why I love you.”

He presses kisses into the crown of your head.

“That doesn’t mean you’re getting out of teaching the boys how to be responsible for our newest family member though.

“Oh no”, he groans.

Your smile widens into a mischievous grin. “Oh yes”, you say. “That includes walks and cleaning up after accidents and scheduling mealtimes and all of that. I suppose it’ll teach them how to be responsible at the very least.”

His mouth curls up in a matching grin. “I guess that also means Omi-omi’s got some responsibilities too since Sachiko-chan said she has a quarter-share in our pup!”

You expect another irate call from Sakusa Kiyoomi tomorrow. It’s okay, you’ll divert his calls to your irrepressible husband anyway.

#bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto koutaro x y/n #bokuto koutaro x you #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu romance

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skullaton · 11 months

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Chapter 8: Beautiful Dreamer

Wally Darling / GN Reader

Rating: M

Summary:

The city is full of people. Then why did it feel so lonely? Memories of clinking bottles and dazzling neon lights flickered through your mind. Misty, car filled streets with humans, but no humanity. A bridge and a phonebooth. And a sweet voice that wanted you to come home. You’ve wandered too far, and you don’t know how to get back. But don’t worry! You’ve made some friends from a colourful town that can help you!

TW: None! This chapter is pure fluff!

AO3 link: here Wally logo by Clown

The melodious birdsong could be heard humming outside of your window . You stretched your weary body, feeling the hug of a plush duvet wrapping your figure. You groaned, wishing that you could sleep for five more minutes.

But you knew you couldn’t be late for your opening shift!

You peeled your eyes open, flinching at the light that filtered through the tiny window of the spare room. The dull sparkle of fairy lights twinkled above your head, reminding you that you forgot to turn them off last night.

You sat up and stretched your back, a few juicy pops emanating from your spine. Another day in paradise, eh?

Your feet land on the plush throw rug as you go to your dresser. You pulled out a comfortable outfit that you wouldn’t mind working in.

You made your way through the closed store and up the stairs, hearing the gentle bustle of your dad, Howdy Pillar, waking up. You did your usual morning routine in the bathroom.

Teeth, shower, and then get dressed. You stared at yourself in the mirror extra long today. Something was off, but you couldn’t quite place it.

Your hand went up to straighten the rainbow antennas that were prevalent on your forehead. One was bent in a bizarre direction from the way you slept. Must have been knocked out really good!

You smoothed over your clothes, making sure to cup the sleeves of your shirt behind your elbow. You hated the sensation of fabric on your spines! You gingerly fingered the tiny bumps that poked out of your skin on your forearm, making sure that they were accessible.

When you adjusted the shirt on your back, you popped your translucent wings into the little slits sewn in your clothes.

You plodded down to the shoppe, taking extra care to tug on your apron. You’ve done this so much that it was almost a ritual.

You stood next to a towering, multi-limbed being behind the counter, watching him take a long sip out of his ‘Best Bug Dad’ mug.

“Mornin’, Dad.”

“Mornin’, Grasshopper. ‘Nother day, huh?”

You smiled up at him. Every time you saw him, a wave of appreciation floods you. Your heart is full of love for this caterpillar, and you don’t know how you can love him any more.

He found you on his doorstep when you were just a little nymph. You had run away from your abusive parents from deep in the woods, so he decided to adopt you.

It hasn’t always been sunshine and rainbows. Working can be tough, but he made it as accommodating as possible! He’s a wonderful businessman, and you hope to make him proud someday!

It’s a good thing Home is such a nice place to live. All the neighbours were sweet and inviting. There was even a guy that took your fancy! He was kind, smelled of apples, and an absolute darling!

“Buh, what a freeloader!” Howdy groaned at the paper. There was an article on the front highlighting Wally Darling’s art show. You were so proud of him at that moment! It must have been a big deal for an artist to showcase their art!

“C’mon, he worked hard for that!”

“He just sits and paints! What about us hardworkin’ folks, bustin’ our backs for the community?”

You gave the caterpillar a cat-like grin, “You’re just being hyper critical of him.”

He huffed proudly, “Am not!”

“Literally everyone in this town just sits around and lollygags.”

“Like who?”

“Barnaby.”

He waved a spare hand. “He’s different!”

You shook your head and chuckled. Howdy used to love Wally – thought he was a stand up guy! The absolute most of a man! That is, until he found out that you liked him. Then he criticised everything he did.

It was endearing. But also annoying.

You both went about the day, doing stock take and resupplying the shelves. Once midday ticked on, a familiar duo squeezed through the bodega’s doors.

The big fuzzy dog, Barnaby, gave the shopkeeper a toothy canine grin, “Wow, it’s a real bugdega in here, innit?”

Howdy guffawed at the joke, slapping his knee. “That never gets old!”

Barnaby looked smug.

But you were focused on someone else. Next to the lumbering dog was a man. A man with a prominent pompadour, fuzzy cardigan, and a dreamy smile. You could feel your tummy doing somersaults as you thought of the night you shared a kiss with him. The whole scene was bliss.

However, after the night of the sleepover, you both never addressed the elephant in the room. Were you dating? Just friends? It left an air of uncertainty whenever you spoke to him.

“H-hey, Wally,” Your voice shyly called to him.

He was his usual calm, collected self. But his tone matched yours with soft and sweet cadence. “Hey, neighbour.”

“H-how are you doing today?”

“The usual! Just stopped by to get some - as Barnaby would call it - grub. ”

You sighed and shook your head. Bloody Barnaby and his insect jokes! One of these days, you’re gonna tell him how it really bugs you!

… Ugh, you hated how influential he was!

Wally gave a lazy glance at his friend and the shopkeep, observing how they were knees deep in jokes and laughter. He leaned closer to you, voice low. “I have something to ask you. Do you have a minute?”

Butterflies fluttered around your core. You could feel a heat rise to your cheeks. You nodded, giving a cautious glance to your dad, making sure he was properly distracted.

You guided Wally a few aisles away, landing deep within the art section. You casually started fixing up a paintbrush display, “What did you need to talk about?”

He started thumbing the different brushes, rubbing so the bristles would flick against his fingers. “I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me?”

You stopped what you were doing. You swallowed thickly as you felt your heart hammer in your chest. A bit too eagerly, you responded. “Y-yes! I’d love to!”

The smile reached up to his eyes. “Wonderful. Can I pick you up after work?”

You didn’t even know what the date entailed. You just nodded as excitement bubbled in your chest.

Wally had picked up a brush, dusting the tip of your nose playfully. “I’ll see you then.”

Then he sauntered away, twirling the artist's tool casually in his hand. It wasn’t long before he was out of sight, joined with his friend at the front of the store.

You pumped your fist to the ceiling and released a silent scream. You couldn’t believe this! He really wanted to go on a date with you! That means the moment you shared at the sleepover was mutual!

Then a heaviness settled on your shoulders. Oh no.

You’d have to tell your dad.

“And how will you pay for that?” Howdy asked the shorter man, his fingers drumming against the counter impatiently. Another pair of arms crossed against his chest as he gave Wally a pointed look.

Wally hummed, looking over the tool. Finally, he spoke with certainty, “Did you know if you mix yellow and blue pigments, it’ll make green? Green can be quite the creative colour if used properly! But it is very difficult to work with.”

Everyone was staring at Wally in disbelief. He actually disclosed useful information for once! It wasn’t a half-baked joke or a nonchalant remark.

It makes sense, though. He was a professional painter, after all. He was probably being humble most of the time.

Howdy grumbled, punching the fact into the cash register, having it screech out a receipt. He mumbled something along the lines of ‘well, I guess that was good.’

You giggled at how stubborn he was being.

It wasn’t long before Barnaby and Wally, now holding two heaping hot dogs and a paintbrush, were walking out of the bodega. As Wally left, he held your gaze for a moment longer, before slipping out into the vibrant neighbourhood.

You released a dreamy sigh, which was immediately caught by the tall caterpillar.

“So, what did you guys talk about?”

You stiffened. “Oh, nothing. He needed a brush,” you fibbed.

“Uh-huh.”

A long moment drawn out between you two. You could hear his index finger tapping against his clothed forearm. You cautiously gave him a glance, noticing how he was waiting, staring. He looked so stern with his arms folded and his lips tucked into a thin line.

You caved, exhaling, “He asked me on a date.”

He huffed dramatically, throwing up another pair of arms. “I knew it! And he didn’t even ask for permission!”

You rolled your eyes at him as he continued to prattle about ‘what good neighbours should do’.

You were done with him making decisions for you.

You swivelled to face him, your voice raising, “He doesn’t need to ask for your permission, dad! I’m a grown adult! I can do whatever I want!”

Your tone caught him off guard. The look he gave you made your heart twist in little sad knots. It was so dejected that you almost wanted to apologise for raising your voice.

He sighed, kneeling down on a pair of legs. One hand was up, rubbing circles on his temple, while another pair was at your shoulders. “I’m sorry, grasshopper. I just…”

He was looking for words as he gripped you. He touched you like you were a fragile, defenceless creature, about to break. You leaned your cheek into the warmth of his hand, your fingers coiling around his clothed forearm. The fuzzy scruff of his fur tickled your nose.

Your tone was more gentle now, full of love and appreciation. “He’s not asking for my hand, dad. He just wants a date. When and if we become serious, you’ll have the final say, alright?”

He scooped you into a big caterpillar hug, the wind getting pushed out of you.

“I just worry, y’know? Remember the night you had the nightmare?” he rocked you back and forth, “I don’t want anything bad happening to you, little one. Ever since you landed at the bodega, I vowed to protect you.”

You loved the way Howdy hugged you. His arms wrapped around you like a boa constrictor, and the firm muscles barricaded you from the outside world. You were in an impenetrable cocoon – a safe haven that’s known as your dad. You melted into his fuzzy embrace, hugging him back.

You don’t quite remember the nightmare all too much. It was a fuzzy mess. But you did know it scared Howdy to bits. You mumbled into his apron, “I’ll be fine, dad. I’ll come straight back after the date.”

He pulled away just enough to press a big smooch against your forehead. You groaned as you rubbed away the saliva. “Daaad!”

“You grew up so fast.”

“I’ve been an adult for a while now, y’know.”

He landed another wet smooch. “So fast!”

You released a series of ‘yuck!’s as you scrambled to get away from him.

Once he finally let you go, you both giggled away the worries. Family quarrels happen. You’re just glad that it was healthy.

You both went back to work, catering to each passing customer. As the day ticked on by, you anxiously watched the clock. Nerves tickled at your gut as it got closer to closing time.

Howdy begrudgingly noticed. He practically ordered you to go get ready for the date an hour before he closed up shoppe.

You skittered off before he could change his mind.

As you burrowed through your drawers of clothes, you flipped between several different outfits. Was it going to be formal? Casual? Physical? Ugh! You had no idea what to go with!

You decided on the most comfortable, fashion forward one. You still wanted to look good, but practical!

When you ducked back into the shop to show Howdy, he practically dropped his broom in disbelief. The way his smile lit up, his eyes glistening with prideful tears, it made you feel all warm and tingly. He reached down to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You look marvellous, grasshopper.”

You beamed up at his acceptance.

The jingle of the front door disrupted the perfect family moment. You both gazed at the intruder, only to see the one and only Wally Darling.

His hair was in that immaculate updo and his clothes were in pristine order. This time, he didn’t wear his usual deep blue cardigan. Instead, it was a rainbow patterned knitted sleeveless vest. The sleeves of his white undershirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his felt yellow forearms.

He looked perfect. Divine, even.

But you’d probably always think that, no matter the situation.

Howdy’s soft exterior hardened immediately. One set of arms went to cross against his broad chest, while the others propped on his hips. He glared down at the little man.

“So,” his tone threatening, “what do you plan on doing?”

“A date, sir,” Wally responded flatly, that impish smile broad on his face.

He clicked his tongue. “Obviously! What are you planning on doing on the date ?”

Wally tilted his head and hummed. He was definitely tossed between answering sarcastically or honestly.

He went with the safe route. “A picnic.”

“And you plan on taking them back here after?”

Wally placed a hand on the flat of his chest. “I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else.”

The caterpillar exhaled out of his nose. He glanced back at you, giving the most uncertain of looks.

You took this opportunity to spring up with your grasshopper legs, making a cartoonish boing noise as you planted a kiss against Howdy’s cheek. Upon landing back down, you skipped off to Wally, hooking your arm with his, “I’ll see you later, dad!”

Howdy watched you and Wally saunter carelessly out the doors of his bodega. He ran a hand over the kiss mark on his cheek. Shaking his head, he went back to sweeping the store, “They grow up so fast…”

Wally guided you to the crest of the hill, just outside of his Home. A picnic blanket was meticulously laid out with a few candle lit lanterns holding the edges. There was a spread of different kinds of pastries – all of which were your favourite.

Dusk was settling over the scene, an orange tangerine mixing with the purple of the night. It casted an etherealness on the picnic that you couldn’t describe. It makes your heart fill to the brim with happiness.

Wally had helped you down, settling on one end of the blanket. From behind his back, he pulled out two glasses and a dark bottle. Inside sloshed a violet liquid. As he uncorked and poured the drink, you got a familiar feeling tugging at your stomach.

For some reason, it made you nervous.

He offered you the drink, clinking the glass with his, stating a casual, “Cheers.”

Then he watched expectantly.

You swirled the drink in your hand warily. You don’t even know why you’re being so cautious.

You finally caved, “Cheers.” With that, you looked away, gambling a quick taste.

It was tart. It was…

Oh, it was just grape juice.

Why did you assume it would be anything other?

You internally mused at your silly emotion. You glanced back at Wally, seeing half of his drink gone.

He must really like it!

“This is really beautiful, Wally,” you found your words after a moment.

He leaned back a bit, his smile softening. “I got some help. I wanted to show how much you mean to me.”

You bit your lower lip to hide that growing smile.

“I didn’t realise how much you liked me.”

“Silly, silly.” He had scooted closer to your side. You could feel the fuzzy felt of his face pressed against your cheek. You practically melted from the touch. The hotness of his breath was against your ear. “You have no idea.”

You two chatted throughout the evening, all while you snacked on the pastries. The sun had nestled deep into the horizon, the silver shine of the stars now coming out to play. You both had laid down, watching the faraway glimmer of constellations all while your fingers entwined. You rubbed your thumb against his soft knuckles, lavishing in the heat.

Somewhere along the line, you both decided to do twenty questions.

“How did you get into painting?”

“I ‘unno, just felt right.”

“That’s a lame answer.”

He gave his usual monotone laugh. “Ha ha. What can I say? Colours are pretty.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes.

“Your turn.”

He hummed thoughtfully. He turned his head so that he could watch you.

“Do you have any siblings?”

You blinked. That seems like a basic question, but you don’t know why it made you feel uncertain. Your eyes locked on his. “Nope!”

You swear you could see a flash of sadness pass through his features. Maybe you were seeing things.

“How about you?”

“Nah. Could you imagine two of me?” he shook his head, “Quite confusing, indeed.”

“I think I’d have a hard time choosing which Wally to like!”

He briefly looked shocked. That is, until you place a quick peck against his cheek. “Kidding!”

His face was turning a bright red. You caught him off guard!

“You know, you deserve punishment for that,” he stated matter of factly, his smirk inching into mischief.

“Yeah?” You mimicked his smile. “And what are you gonna do?”

You didn’t expect the guy to have so much speed. His hands were on you in seconds flat, fingers tickling your most delicate spots. You squealed in bouts of laughter, flailing to get him off. But he was dexterous! He guessed your every move, and prepared even more tickles!

You had to think fast in the Tickle War! Your hand jabbed up to his underarm, tickling in retaliation!

Wally gasped in surprise, jerking off of you as he erupted in his own set of giggles.

You both tumbled around in the grass until you were both gasping for air. He laid on his side, and you took the opportunity to snuggle up close, eyes never breaking contact. You were too afraid to look away, in case this moment would vanish into the night air.

He placed a gentle kiss against your forehead, exhaling a barely audible ‘mwuah.’

He was so goofy. Your insides were going into mush just being around him.

“This was fun,” he mumbled into your skin.

“Yeah,” You sighed dreamily into his sweater vest.

“Would you like to go on a date again?”

You pulled away, your smile encompassing your face. “I’d love that!”

You couldn’t help yourself but pepper quick little kisses against his cheeks. He chuckled at the attention.

“Is this what Barnaby meant by ‘going steady?’”

You stopped momentarily, nuzzling your nose into the soft fabric of his cheek. “Are you asking me to … be in a relationship?”

“Would you like that?”

This time, your lips found his. He reciprocated, humming contently at the texture. When you pulled away, you answered with the most certainty you’ve ever felt in your life. “I’d love to date you, Wally Darling.”

You wish you could take a picture of his expression. His eyes were half-lidded, filled with the most love you’ve ever seen. “Then you’re mine, my Darling.”

You placed another firm kiss against him, embracing him so tight that you could pop his stuffing. Your tummy was filled with butterflies, and a heat warmed your face.

You have a feeling you’re going to love being his Darling.

Wally had dropped you off at Howdy’s Place, making sure that the caterpillar was satiated.

He wouldn't be, however, considering how many lipstick marks were covering Wally’s felt face.

But Wally didn’t care. He sort of enjoyed watching Howdy get all ruffled. It was different from his usual character.

You certainly were changing people. It was a good change of pace from the usual lifeless void.

After so many years, there was finally life.

But there still needed to be more work done. More souls to be drawn in, more energy to feed Home.

But this was a good start.

He made his way to the sentient house, ducking into the crimson door. Almost immediately, Home rapped a few panels of wood.

It was excited!

How was the date?

Wally tugged his ascot off before neatly folding it and placing it on a side table.

“I think it went well!”

It looked very nice .

The man sunk into his usual rainbow striped chair, hands folding over his stomach. “Julie gave the suggestion. Poppy helped bake the sweets.”

Such nice friends! Home knocked a bit too happily, it made the walls sway.

Wally gave a low laugh at the house’s excitement.

Home settled a bit. The next taps were slow, almost somber sounding. Keeping them awake is tiring, Wally.

His smile went tense. He reached a hand to touch the wallpaper. “I know, sweet Home. Soon we’ll have more friends!”

Yay! The house’s walls clamoured, the panelling clicking together in excitement. The website is working!

He chuckled dryly. “I barely even know what an ‘inner net’ is, but I’m glad I was able to reach some people on the Outside.”

It’s ‘internet’, Wally.

“Same thing.”

They let a quietness lull over them. Wally picked at the fuzzy bits off his finger tips. It took him a while to formulate the question he had bubbling in him.

“Did they have to forget about their sister?”

The house creaked sadly.

Sorry. I thought it would be easier for them.

Wally sighed, sinking deeper into his loveseat. “You’re probably right.”

She has a good soul.

The man peeked up at the wallpaper’s eyes. “Do you feel her?”

The eyes stared back, crinkling in happiness. She’s very sweet. She dreams of high school and crushes, and making awful food for her sibling.

Wally chuckled at the thought. “What a beautiful dreamer.”

#wally darling #wally darling x you #wally darling / reader #wally darling / you #welcome home #welcome home fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #fluff #i forgot to post this onto tumblr hahah oops #howdy's your dad #you're adopted wowow #writing

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comfy-whumpee · 1 year

Text

Birdhouse: Roman’s Rescue

CN: BBU setting. Other pieces in this arc: Mistake, The Forum, Everyone and Tyler.

@neuro-whump, @rosesareviolentlyread, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @whumpsday, @firewheeesky, @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

There were four trainees on delivery today. Their chaperone, Handler Novak, was in the front with the driver, and the four pets sat in their individual padded seats, strapped into place for the journey. They’d started the trip with six, but the first two had been dropped off already at a big brownstone building.

They had been Help At Work Domestics, silent but excited to go out and pioneer a new flagship product for the company. 993948 was feeling the same way. There was a lot riding on their ability to be exceptional. He had worked so hard during training that he had almost never been in trouble. He could type faster than anyone else, he could memorise information quickly and perfectly, and he knew a dozen different filing and organisational strategies. He could suit anyone. He could adapt to anything. Any office he was placed in, he could excel.

The prospect was a small technology company, he knew that already. He didn’t know much about what that would be like, but the nice thing about offices was that they had similar needs. That was what they had been taught, anyway.

The bus pulled up. Handler Novak got out, and pulled open the sliding side door. It made almost no sound, sleek and silver in the weak sunlight.

Handler checked the clipboard, reached in, and popped Roman’s straps. Roman got up, twisting his hands together nervously, fingers tugging at the cuffs of his white button-down shirt to make sure they were perfect. He had to be perfect. Help At Home products were always perfect.

The building was tall. That was the first thing he noticed as he stepped out, Handler Novak placing a hand on the small of his back to walk him in. It must have been at least ten floors. No, twenty. He couldn’t tell and it was too fast for him to count. He walked through some glass doors into a reception.

The hand on his back lifted away, prompting him to stop and fold his hands behind him. Handler stepped up to the desk.

“Good morning, sir! How can I help?”

Handler Novak put on his polite, warm voice. The kind he used when talking to people, not pets. “Hi, good morning to you too. I’ve got a delivery for Charlie Mason.”

The receptionist smiled. She didn’t look at Roman, but he smiled back anyway. He might be working with her. “They’re expecting you. Head into the elevator on the left. Eighth floor.”

“Thank you, miss.”

993948 was walked to the elevator. It was walled with mirrors, and he met his own eyes as the tiny room carried them upward on its back.

He was pale, the same kind of sallow tint as everyone had in training. On him, even with the soft light of the cushy elevator, it made him look paper-white, and his hair was barely any better. The only solid point of colour was his one brown eye; the blue one seemed washed out too.

“First impression, pet,” the Handler said softly as the elevator slid to a smooth stop. A pleasant chime announced the opening of the doors. 993948 straightened sharply, inhaling slightly and squaring his shoulders.

The doors glided open to show a plain corridor. The Handler murmured, “Huh.”

Hand on his back, 993948 walked down the plastic flooring, looking around. The pale, sea-green walls were marked here and there by doors, an eventually Handler Novak found the right one. “Here we go.”

He stepped into a small lobby with a sofa and water cooler, and almost immediately, someone approached. He was tall, with a bright shirt and busy beard, and he smiled like 993948 was an old friend. “Good morning, folks.”

“Morning,” Handler greeted him cheerily, offering a hand to shake. “I’ve got your brand new Domestic-colon-Office pet here ready to start. Can I get Charlie Mason’s signature before I head off?”

“That’s me,” said a deeper voice, and 993948 looked over to see a broad man with slicked-back hair, with a serious set to his features even as he smiled too. “Good to meet you. I can take the paperwork off your hands.”

“Of course.” Handler Novak passed over a manila folder, and set the rest of his black tote down at 993948’s feet. “Here are his starting supplies. You can order replacements for him at any time, and we offer free delivery on any add-on or accessory. As long as he has access to food and a bathroom, he’ll be able to take care of all his needs, and will otherwise be ready to work. Eager to, in fact.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Mr Mason said, signing a piece of paper before handing it back. “There you go. Signed, sealed and delivered.”

“Thank you, sir. Give me a call if you have any trouble at all getting him settled today. Your purchase might be complete, but that doesn’t mean you’re on your own. You can speak to one of us for advice at any time, and any problems, we’ll be there.”

“Alright, thank you. Have a good day.”

“You too.” Handler didn’t look at 993948 before leaving him behind. The beating pulse that echoed through the pet’s skin seemed to go unnoticed.

Looking around him, he noticed more people than just the two who had greeted them. There was a slimmer man at a desk, scratching his five o’clock shadow as he worked with one hand. At the back of the room was a hulking man bent over his desk in total silence, a mug steaming at his elbow. He could even hear someone moving around in a kitchen, which he guessed was just next to the reception.

“Right, have you got a name?”

Mr Mason had asked a question. “Yes, sir. 993948 is my unique identifier code.”

Mr Mason’s eye squinted sceptically. “That’s not a name. We’ll think of something. Come through and meet the others.”

A lanky, fit-looking man came through from the kitchen doorway and stopped short at the sight of him. “Oh, hey. Just like in the picture.”

“This is Tyler,” Mr Mason said by way of explanation. Tyler smiled ambiguously, his eyes running all the way down to Roman’s toes and back again. “He’s our sales and marketing guy. And this is Dillon,” to the bearded man, “he’s customer service and PR. Over there’s Phil, tech lead.” Phil waved. “And at the back is Joel, CFO and ops.”

Joel didn’t turn, but his voice snapped out, “He can call me Mr Harden, thanks. I’m not his friend.”

Mr Mason smiled, somewhat apologetically. “You can call the rest of us by our first names. We’re a small start-up outfit, we’re not fussy about that stuff. Nobody wants to be bogged down in formality when we’re trying to do something bold and new.”

“Hell yeah, Charlie,” Tyler agreed, lightly punching his arm. “He didn’t mention it, but he’s the CEO and product lead. If the lights are on here, Charlie’s working.”

993948 smiled. He liked this. He liked it a lot. Mr Harden was right that they weren’t his friends, but he could be theirs. He would support them and their dream with whatever they needed. Mr Charlie spoke calmly, but there was conviction in his words.

He knew about all stages of a company’s lifetime, and the start-up phase was the most volatile. Only a quarter of start-ups went on to succeed. He would be part of turning this one into a success. It was so exciting.

“Thank you,” he said, not just for the introductions, but for even being here. “What can I do?”

“Oh, you poor thing.”

Roman had been in the cupboard. It was where he was meant to be. He always went into the store cupboard when the cleaner was here, and she never opened it, and she probably knew about him because she’d have seen his cushion and blanket on the reception sofa, but they never, ever met.

This wasn’t the usual cleaner. She was young, with big black eyes in a brown face, her hair tied up tight in a ponytail, her maroon apron crisp and new. She had opened the cupboard. She hadn’t known about him. Now her brows were drawn in sympathy, and her voice was gentle and warm.

“Oh, look at you. I’m so sorry, I must’ve startled you. Please don’t hide in there, come out, stretch your legs. What’s your name?”

She had barely been here ten minutes. She didn’t have gloves on and she wasn’t carrying anything with her. Why had she opened the cupboard? Did she think there were supplies in here?

He introduced himself, since she had asked. “I’m Roman, 993948, Help at Home Office Domestic.”

“Hi, Roman,” she said, as if she hadn’t heard the second or third parts. She had a sweet, melodic accent that he’d never heard before. “I’m Anaiah. It’s nice to meetcha. Don’t hide in there on my account, you’re not the first I’ve met.” She stepped back, and he obediently stepped out, back into the office.

She didn’t smell like cleaning materials either. Something was wrong.

“Did they mean to leave you behind? Can I take you to someone?”

He blinked at her. “This is where I belong. I’m an Office Domestic, produced by Help at Home for all business and—”

“Lemme stop you there, Roman,” she interrupted with a little smile. “It’s nearin’ dusk and you’re on your own in here during the holiday. Can I take you someplace nicer? Maybe you have someone you’d wanna see, who’d take care of you?”

His stomach flipped. Tyler had been off sick for the last week before closure. It had been lonely, and it was been worse every day since Mr Charlie had cancelled the plan to take him home for Christmas. No holiday in the warm kitchen, cooking and cleaning and being good company. Not for Roman.

You don't need a holiday, Mr Charlie had told him. That's your whole point.

But now he had a chance. “Tyler,” he said, unable to help himself. “Tyler Schatz. He’s my friend. Can you take me to him?”

Anaiah smiled like he told her exactly what she wanted to hear. “Yeah, I can. C’mon. Let’s go see Tyler.”

Relief swept over him, but was followed immediately by a surge of panic. She wasn’t supposed to agree. He wasn’t supposed to leave. Help at Home pets are happy. Help at Home pets are content.

“Who are you?” he asked, stepping backwards. Was she dangerous? He had never met a dangerous person. They had always kept him sheltered here, safe from people who would hurt him. Mr Dillon said there were always people who would hurt someone weaker than them. Roman was defenceless.

Even as he thought it, he remembered his hand, pockmarked with wounds from the stapler. Some had torn on the way out and left tiny scars. Mr Charlie was stressed, more stressed than ever.

That was what he said, anyway. But sometimes, Roman thought it was something else. Something to do with Tyler staying late last week, and then not coming back the next Monday morning.

“Like I said, I’m Anaiah,” the imposter said, and her tone was still mild, but her words were impatient. “I’m the cleaner while your usual is away for the holiday.”

He shouldn’t ask the question he needed. His chest felt painfully tight. “How did you know where to find me?”

Her smile stayed plastered on. “I was looking for your vacuum cleaner.”

“You’re meant to use the one in the maintenance cupboard.”

“That’s my mistake, then.”

She was lying. Why would she lie? Was she dangerous? Was he in danger? He shouldn’t argue with her in that case, but then she would take him away. He didn’t have any way to stop her. He probably didn’t even have the courage to fight. The mere thought of defending himself like that chilled hm to the bone until his body felt unusable.

Was she really a cleaner? How else would she have gotten in? And the usual cleaner hasn’t come. So she is one… But she hasn’t done any cleaning. She doesn’t even seem worried about leaving her job before even starting, just to help a stranger. To help a pet.

Trust crooks only to rip you off, Mr Charlie would say.

“Hey, now,” Anaiah said, raising her hands. “Breathe, okay? I’m not taking you anywhere you don’t want to go. How about this? I’ll do my cleaning. I’ll get things nice here. You think on whether you’re ready to go.”

She smiled. The smile seemed real. But then, how would he know?

He sat back down in his cupboard and closed the door. After a minute, he heard the sound of her pulling in a cleaning cart.

In the relative privacy of the cupboard, wedged between their marketing banner and a stack of printer paper, he pulled his knees to his chest and tried to think.

She shouldn’t have known where he was, and she shouldn’t have known he had someone, and she shouldn’t have agreed to take him because that meant she was either lying or she knew more than she was letting on.

She knew he was there.

That wasn’t really special. Maybe the old cleaner had told her. Maybe she had been by during the day, when he was working. Maybe she’d heard, because of how many visitors and customers he had served drinks to. Did people talk about that kind of thing? Maybe because he was a new designation.

But she had offered to take him away.

So she had heard about him, and then decided she would rescue him. But that didn’t explain her being here as a cleaner. If she really was, surely she wouldn’t risk her job for him? She had seemed impatient during the conversation, like she wanted it done. She wasn’t really meant to be here, was she?

She had come specifically for him.

That meant… What did that mean?

Tyler had sent her.

Tyler had sent her to rescue him.

Tyler, his only friend. Who had talked to him and listened. Who had smiled and hugged him and stared in horror at the injuries he’d been given. Who had told him it was wrong and too much, and wanted to protect him.

Tyler of the bunny outfit and the drunk kisses and the temper he tried so hard to hold back but didn’t always succeed.

He opened the door. Anaiah was mopping the kitchen floor when he went to find her. She looked over at him, but didn’t ask. Just waited.

“I don’t want to go to Tyler,” he told her. His voice was weak. He didn’t sound sure; he wasn’t sure. “I want to go somewhere – different. Is that okay?”

This time, there was no impatience. “Of course. Pick up anything you want to take with you, and I’ll finish up, and see if I can find your papers. Then we’ll hit the road. Okay?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Okay.”

Looking around, the empty desks and chairs felt suddenly mournful. In the electric light, a wall of white against the blackness of the windows, everything seemed to have no shadow. Joel’s desk with his wife’s photo. Charlie’s locked office door. Dillon’s big black headphones hanging on their stand. Phil’s football poster. Tyler’s coffee mug, that he hadn’t picked up and removed in the vain hope it would be wanted tomorrow.

When Roman tucked himself into Anaiah’s cleaning cart and left his home through the mirrorless, juddering service elevator, he left behind a spotless office, his blanket and pillow neatly folded on the reception sofa, and on Charlie’s desk, a broken stapler left among a scattering of silver staples.

#whump #bbu #my fic #emotional whump #the birdhouse #roman #charlie #tyler #joel #rescue #escape #dehumanisation

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saintlike78 · 3 years

Note

Poly marauders where like the reader smacks one of their asses why they are leaving the dorm to go somewhere & they’re all surprised and IDK maybe they punish her? Err you decide the rest xx

Before breakfast [Poly Marauders]

A/N: This is kinda a crack fic, but also not really, it was just a funny concept

Pairings: Poly! Marauders x Fem! reader

Words: 875

Warnings: Slightly NSFW! 16+, spanking, illusions to a d/s dynamic, fluff, no proper aftercare, polyamorous relationship. As always lmk if I missed anything.

-----

You weren’t really thinking, all you saw was Remus Lupin’s ass walking towards the door of the dorm. Your hand drew back and you landed a harsh smack right on the cheek, immediately trying to scurry past him.

Silence filled the room, the quiet conversation ceasing and a shocked look crawled onto their faces; the quiet was interrupted by your giggle, your body almost out of the open door.

You thought it was all just good fun, your mind was quickly changed when a hand yanked your body back turning you as you collided with the firm chest of Remus.

You looked up at his face and his expression had changed from surprised to questioning, his eyebrow raised as he looked down upon you.

“You think you’re allowed to do that? Huh, bunny?” He questioned, his grip tightening around you, using his free hand he grasped your chin to keep your gaze on his scarred face.

“Guessing by your reaction… no,” your eyes moved between the three of them, James and Sirius standing on either side of Remus, their faces strained as they tried to keep in their laughs.

“That’s right, that’s something reserved for us to do, not you, little girl,” Remus took a few steps backwards with you in his grasp, until the back of his legs hit the edge of James’ bed.

You couldn’t decide whether to laugh or try to make a run for it, the moment rather funny in retrospect, but the consequences of your actions were slowly sneaking up on you.

Remus sat on the bed, gripping you and manhandling you across his lap, the consequence very clear as it finally washed over you and made its presence known.

James and Sirius stood by the door, backs against the wall as they watched, with amused grins, the events unfolding before them. They waited patiently for the Lycanthrope to be done with your punishment so that you could get breakfast; you laid across his lap and thought over your actions, this was the earliest you had ever been punished - punishment before breakfast had to be a new record, you would have laughed if you hadn’t found yourself in this special kind of predicament.

You let out a sigh, preparing yourself as Remus lifted your skirt, the skirt you had put on not even thirty minutes ago. The smooth skin and curve of your ass displayed to him, his hand caressing the skin softly.

“You’re gonna count for me,” Remus informed to which you nodded, but your head turned back to look at him, confusion written on your soft features.

“To how many? You didn’t give me a number, Remmy.”

Your eyes sparkled as you looked back at the beautiful boy whose lap you were perched over, his own eyes softening as he looked at your face - he almost wanted to forget about the punishment, but he shook his head and pinched your bottom lightly.

“Until I say we’re done,” Remus gave no warning as he drew his hand back and landed a firm smack on your bare skin, the impact causing your body to jolt and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip as you tried to keep your noises from spilling.

“One,” your fingers wrapped themselves in the tussled sheets of James’ unmade and messy bed.

Another smack followed, then another - your skin turned brighter and more irritated as the red colour bled onto it. By the sixth spank the noises toppled out of you, the pain no longer mild enough to try to toughen through. A single tear leaked out of your eye, the spanks continuing along with your struggling counting.

“Fifteen,” you whimpered out, your body falling slack against Remus’ lap, which is when he decided that you’d had enough.

“Okay, bunny, we’re done,” he said as he lifted you to straddle his lap, a relieved sigh leaving your lips. He brushed some of the loose hair from your face, wiping the tears from your face; his eyes were soft, you couldn’t resist the way he looked at you, your body falling forward to connect your lips with his.

Remus gripped your waist, keeping you close to him as you floated in a dreamland.

“Hello! We’re gonna miss breakfast,” Sirius snapped his fingers and tapped his foot impatiently, making yourself and Remus pull apart.

You slowly got off of his lap, wincing slightly as your skirt fell back in place on your behind. You had no idea how you would make it through the day, the mere thought of sitting making you cringe.

“Come here, darling,” James stretched his hand for you to take, which you did with no hesitation, making your way to breakfast.

Sirius and Remus walked close behind you, Remus’ face was pulled up in a smirk as he no doubt had the same thought as you about your sitting problem.

Suddenly a sharp stinging sensation landed across your bum and a much too pleased Sirius came to walk beside you.

“Ow! Siri! That was mean,” you pouted as he smirked at you, falling in step with you and James.

Sirius leaned down, his breath fanning your ear as you walked, “if you’re nice, I’ll let you sit on my lap today.”

Tags: @justadreamyhufflepuff, @teenwolfbitches28, @emma67, @trouble-in-space, @sciapod, @kermiemoon, @autumnandwinteraesthetics, @roonilwazlibswhore, @White_castles, @lexi_shoto, @sprucewoodlover, @blackandlupinsslut, @emmaev, @cedricisnotdead, @Sirius-sugarmomma, @i-love-scott-mccall, @pretty-pop-princess-hs, @pottahishotasf, @mjoubertt-1, @m2lily, @biles-bilinski-24, @methblinds, @lunaiswifey, @maraudersbijj, @samaraaaaa, @ildm4ev, @bellatrixscurls, @sabrinathesimp, @princess-jules47, @chanellewts,

#poly marauders x reader #poly marauders #poly marauders smut #marauders x reader #marauders fluff #marauders era #marauders smut #marauders fanfiction #marauders #marauders x y/n #the marauders #james potter #james potter fluff #sirius black fluff #sirius black #remus lupin #remus lupin fluff

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tinyyoungblood · 3 years

Note

okay amazing here goes...so SOUR has been on repeat and your one-shot based on the album was super cute and just EVERYTHING 🥺 but also i was listening to 'traitor' the other day and the first line goes "brown guilty eyes and little white lies" and i just. the entire song puts me in the feels over a boyfriend i never had but anyway i was thinking what if...angst with peter parker!! maybe he's been more distant lately and lying about where he's been at nights or something? i'm not sure the world is your oyster!! thank you in advance💘 hehe

strangers with memories | peter parker

pairing: peter parker x reader

warnings: pure angst

a/n: “the world is your oyster” lol you’re so sweet <3 we don’t claim the peter parker in this fic because he knows better than this. enjoy x

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was nights like these that made you feel like everything was exactly how it was supposed to be. The window was opened, leaving outside noise from the street to breeze in and blend in with the lo-fi beats playing quietly from Peter’s laptop.

Your legs were tangled under a soft blanket as Peter showed you outfit pictures from his Pinterest board, asking for your opinion. It simply made sense. The world felt at peace.

“No, I don’t think you understand. Orange and teal look really good together, see.” Peter turned his phone around to show you his screen. You squinted at the brightness, but once your eyes adjusted, you burst out laughing.

“Sure, if you want look like Perry the Platypus. Get that away from me.” You shoved his hand away and Peter grinned. He swiped to another picture with the same colours combination, and you shrieked. “Not the brown beanie! Dr. Doofenshmirtz would have a field day with this.”

Peter chuckled. He rose to his feet and tossed his phone next to you on the mattress. “I’m going to the bathroom”, he declared with an air of casualness that made you crack a smile. He was halfway through the doorway when he popped his head back in and asked, “You want anything?”

“From the bathroom?” You looked up from your phone.

Peter shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Uh-huh.”

You suppressed your smile. “I’m good, thanks.” He gave you another shrug and left the bathroom, whistling a tune you didn’t know.

Not a second later, Peter’s phone gave off a subtle ping. It wasn’t your intention to look, but reflexes made you glance at it from the corner of your eyes. You regretted it instantly. Your shoulders tensed. It was just a text message—nothing scandalous, but the contact name made your stomach drop.

MJ.

Her name popped up on Peter’s phone screen more often than not. You really didn’t want to be bothered. You knew they were only friends, but you could already see the broad smile edging his face as he read the message. You hated where your thoughts had taken you.

Peter trusted you and you wanted to trust him as well, desperately. You demanded yourself to take the high ground. It still felt stupid and your chest caved in just at the thought of Peter grinning at his phone. He barely even answered your texts anymore.

You could already hear the white lies he was going to feed you. But you felt yourself wanting to keep the white lies. At least, that meant getting to keep Peter. All you could do was swallow the lump in your throat and take a deep breath. The world still blurred around you.

“May asked if you’re in the mood for Thai food.” Your gaze shot to Peter’s. He was leaning against the door frame, arms folded over his chest with the same calm expression as before. Don’t ruin this. Keep the peace.

You forced a smile. “Thanks, but I don’t like Thai food.”

Peter frowned at that. “Since when? You’ve always liked it.” He appeared almost affronted before realisation crossed his face. “Oh wait, my bad, MJ liked it. We actually just had Thai food together the other night with Ned.” A private smile curled around his lips at the memory.

“Sounds nice,” you replied weakly. It was all you could say.

Peter didn’t seem to mind. He pushed himself off and strolled over, picking up his phone to see the texts he had just received. He chuckled softly at whatever he had been sent and punched in a reply.

You simply sat there, fiddling with the blanket that suddenly felt too hot. Say something, the voice inside your head demanded. Be exciting. Don’t make him lose interest. Your hands curled into a fist. You felt ridiculous.

“So about Friday night,” you began awkwardly, feeling suddenly very out of place although there was nobody else in the room. Peter’s eyes were bright with delight as he typed away on his phone.

“Hm?” He said, and you had a feeling it wasn’t because he wanted to you to go on. He just wasn’t sure if you had spoken at all.

Your cheeks hurt from forcing a smile. “Are you going to pick me up or should we just meet there?”

Peter’s eyebrows creased. “Meet you where?”

“At the movies,” you said curtly. “We wanted to watch that movie, remember? It was your idea.” The bite in your tone finally made Peter look up. It was like watching a slow car crash.

“Was it?” Peter mused, and you nodded stiffly.

“Oh.”

From somewhere on the street, you heard people arguing. Their sharp voices cut into the room and drilled themselves into your chest. Don’t let this be us. That isn’t us. We’re better than that. You fixed your eyes on the curve of Peter’s neck, concentrating on his breathing to feel like he wasn’t drifting away. In reality, you knew that the ship was already leaving the harbour and there was nothing you could do.

“Sorry,” Peter finally said, lips pursed. “I kind of already made plans with MJ. Her uncle has this cool train collection that she wanted to show me. She told me about it at lunch today and I’m really excited. It’s pretty awesome.”

Your face dropped and he had the good sense to add, “But we can always catch the movie on Monday night if you want.”

“Why not on the weekend?” A part of you dreaded to hear the answer.

Peter didn’t hesitate as he waved you off. “Ned and I wanted to get started on that new Lego set I told you about.” You had no recollection of that. Peter’s eyes flickered to you before another text message came in, demanding his full attention. The sound made you feel nauseous. The ship was a dot now, fading into the horizon while you were still stranded.

“You can join us if you want,” Peter offered with eyes glued to his phone. “MJ is going to bring Thai food, I think.”

You didn’t bother to reply. You felt claustrophobic. Pushing yourself off his bed, you headed for the window. It was already opened by a crack, but you needed fresh air. It was almost overwhelming when you stepped over the window sill and let yourself out onto the fire escape. The stairs screeched but you didn’t care for the noise. What you needed was proof that there was more out there.

The railing was cold as you wrapped your hands around them. Each window across the street was alit in numerous colours. Silhouettes moved in those colours—people with their own lives and sorrows. The world continued to live.

You settled on one of the stairs and stared up at the night sky. No stars, nothing. You were really stuck at the harbour. Peter’s room was glowing in purple thanks to the LED strips you had set up together a few weeks ago. He had bought old vinyl records and you spent the entire night rating them until sunlight pooled in through the curtains. It all felt like a pipe dream now.

You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting outside by yourself. All you knew were the colour blocks of windows, shifting in and out of blurriness. You had been too busy watching the ship sail away that you only now realised how much you had starved yourself. One good night wasn’t going to change that. Your mind was just really good at leaving out the bad parts.

“Here you are.” Peter’s voice caught you off guard. You turned away, wiping your tearstained cheeks hastily as he watched you with knitted brows. “I just came to tell you that I invited Ned and MJ over. I hope that’s fine.”

When you didn’t reply, Peter stepped out and sat on the window sill. “You okay?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Do I look okay to you?”

“Well,” he said, “You’ve been acting weird all week, so…I’m not sure”

“I have been acting weird?” You echoed.

Peter hesitated but lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “Yeah, but you’re always smiling, so I just assume you’re all right.”

“You can’t be serious,” you said bitterly, tucking your hands under your thighs to stop them from shaking. “Just look what we’ve become. You can’t even tell anymore if I’m putting on a fake smile.”

“What are you talking about?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Oh, you know.” You waved your hand at nothing. “Air pollution, climate change, everything and nothing these days. But you wouldn’t know, would you.”

“Y/N,” Peter said with an edge to his voice. “Are you going to tell me what this is really about?”

You hadn’t realised that you had started pacing until his question made you halt and whip around. There was acid in your tone as you snapped, “Don’t you miss me at all?”

“What?” Peter looked stumped. “We see each other every day at school. You’re literally standing in front of me right now.”

You scoffed and sat back down on the stairs. “Love really does make people blind,” you murmured and stared at the sky. Maybe it was going to rain.

Peter exhaled sharply and knelt before you, lowering your chin to look you in the eye. He thought he could find an answer in them, but you knew that if he’d been blind to it all this time, he wasn’t going to see it now. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted, and your chest ached.

You wrapped your arms around yourself. “I want you. That’s all I wanted.”

“Wanted? You have me.” Peter pressed his lips together. “You have me right now, Y/N.”

“I don’t.” You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “MJ has you. She’s had you for a while now, and I’m just here watching you both from afar.”

Peter opened his mouth, most likely wanting to deny it, but no sounds came out. He simply stared and stared and stared. Your heart was racing. There was no way back, so you went on, “I don’t care if you’re just friends. I really don’t care, because it hurts just as much knowing that I still let you treat me like that. I miss you and you’re sitting right in front of me. And you know what the worst part is?”

Memories flooded your mind, bricking you like thorns. You devoured them, hungrily, because you were used to living on crumbs. Peter holding you in his arms. Peter looking tenderly after your wounds and kissing your tears. Peter turning sorrow into bliss until you were drunk on laughter and the sky was dusted in stars.

A sad smile hung to your lips. “I still think the world of you. All those nights when I had prayed for someone like you. Someone who could be my safe person and I could be theirs—I thought I had that with you.”

“You do,” Peter hissed, and at once you wondered where he found the strength to believe his own lies. He sighed. “I promise you, you did. It’s just…” Your throat went dry as he bit his tongue. “It’s not something you can control, okay? Maybe you’re just not my only safe person anymore. It’s…it’s not a big deal.” Peter’s gaze dropped as your breath caught.

You were glad you were sitting. There was no doubt that your knees would’ve given out otherwise. His confession felt like a punch to the gut. That small, pathetic voice inside your head screamed and trashed, denying everything he’d just said. A part of you was always so hopeful—Peter used to love that about you.

Remember, it tried to reason, he promised he would never hurt you. Remember how it felt to have his arms around you. It couldn’t have been a lie. None of it could’ve been a lie. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“You’re not actually sorry,” you heard yourself say. “You’re just saying that to feel good about yourself. If you were sorry, you would’ve never made all those promises—” You didn’t have it in yourself to continue. No words would’ve done you justice anyway. “If you’re just going to keep hurting me, then leave me alone.”

Something dark flared in his brown eyes. “Leave you alone?” asked Peter incredulously. “This is stupid and you know it. All of this, just because I’m friends with MJ. Don’t you think it’s a little ridiculous? We’re just friends. There’s no reason for you to get paranoid.”

“I’m being paranoid now?” Your eyes narrowed.

“That’s what I would call it, yes.”

“Then tell me this.” You jumped to your feet. “Last week, when Mr. Harrison took points off my assignment because I supposedly handed it in too late, why didn’t you speak up for me? You were there, you knew I handed it in time. All I needed was for you to tell him the truth, but you didn’t say a damn thing. Now I’m failing that class, and you know why this is the first time you’re hearing about this?”

Peter remained silent, but his eyes flickered, and the crease between his brows was evidence enough.

“Because you were too distracted giggling with MJ in the back. You didn’t even notice when I stormed out of that room, so don’t lie to yourself, Peter. You haven’t been by my side in a while now.”

You shook your head when Peter averted his gaze. Of course, he had nothing to say. Both of you knew it wasn’t just about that class. It was about the missed calls, the empty words, and all the times he had stood you up and let you down. At least he respected you enough to not deny it. No more white lies.

“See, this is the thing,” you began, swinging your leg over the window sill to step inside the room. You faced Peter and waited until his gaze drifted to yours. “You gave me your word and I was stupid enough to believe you. I trusted you. It was supposed to be you and me against the world, but you sat back and watched it beat me down because you were too busy falling in love with somebody else.”

Peter’s expression shifted and you turned your back to him. Seeing his frustration replaced by realisation was something you knew you couldn’t stomach.

So you made to leave. It was only when you were halfway through the room that you recognised the feeling simmering in your gut as something a bit different than resentment. You looked back over your shoulder, eyebrows lowered, and struggled to find your voice.

“Peter?”

It was barely a whisper, but you knew he heard you. He tore his gaze from the floor and looked at you. Wild storms were trapped in his eyes, an ocean rising. It was devasting to look at.

But it was then that you realised, that although Peter had never cheated on you, his brown guilty eyes still made him a traitor. You took a deep breath.

“Just don’t treat her how you treated me,” was all you said. And with that, you were gone.

* * *

i’d really appreciate if you left some feedback since i barely ever write angst and want to know what you think:) stay hydrated guys

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker one shot #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker angst #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x yn #peter parker imagines #spiderman imagine #spiderman one shot #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #peter parker fandom

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honeybunnybeez · 3 years

Note

If you want to you could write some C! Dream being soft around reader?

Secluded Cabin's and Gentle Touches

♡Pairing: Dream x GN!Reader (with hints of platonic!GN!reader x Tommy and Tubbo)

♡Genre: Fluff

♡Format: Fanfiction

♡Summary: It's not uncommon for Tommy and Tubbo to bring people over to your place so you can help calm them down after a prank, but today they seemed to drag by a familiar face that you have yet to properly spend time with. Lucky for you, he seems to be longing to talk to you as well.

♡Au Setting: Au where the war never happens but tensions are still high.

"Get back here!"

Despite the voice ordering them to stop, Tommy and Tubbo continued to run like their lives depended on it, and to be fair, it kinda did in this situation. Wet hands stained in different coloured dyes served as proof of their crimes and a green hooded man wearing an awfully smudged looking mask makes it clear who their latest prank victim was.

"What were we fucking thinking!?" but a laugh at the end of his yelling as he dodges Dream's outstretched hand makes it clear that Tommy doesn't regret his life choices at all.

"I don't know!" Tubbo on the otherhand, was starting to regret his involvement in the prank. His legs were starting to ache and his chest began to burn as he slowly became exhausted. A wild chase like this isn't exactly new to them but Dream's persistence really makes it hard for a person to catch a breather between runs. "Tommy, where are we even going!?"

Tommy opened his mouth to respond but a trail of scattered lanterns and torches answers Tubbo's question for him. Tubbo lets out a knowing, "ooooh!" And uses whatever remaining energy he can to keep up with Tommy, knowing exactly what his friend had in mind.

In the distance, they can see you sitting on your porch, playing with a parrot you had managed to tame while out searching for cocoa beans. Relief washes over them when you lock eyes with them and start jogging over with your bird in tow, a worried expression evident on your face.

They're quick to hide behind you when they get close enough, clutching the back of your shirt while trying to catch their breaths to answer your questions as to who they were running from this time and why.

"Dream-" is all Tommy can manage to wheeze out before he's coughing up a lung and swearing again.

"Ah," honestly, after knowing the pair for a good few years now, just mentioning a name gives you a pretty good idea of the type of prank they pulled and the danger they could be in. Thankfully, Dream wasn't a major threat, to you at least.

"Alright, alright, go hide in the house quickly and don't come out until I tell you guys to. If I die, make sure to take care of the farm animals and bees for me."

"Bless you, (y/n)."

"Your sacrifices won't be in vain, we promise!"

You give them a joking salute and urge them to go inside quickly, informing them that you can hear Dream approaching closer. Once the boys were safely inside, you tried your best to look as natural as possible with the limited time you had to adjust yourself. When Dream arrives, you can see that he's just as tired as the boys are thanks to the chase, though his stance continues to be tense as he frantically looks around for them, fists clenched tight until his knuckles turned ghost white.

"Fuck, where did they run off to?"

"Not gonna give a stranger a kind hello after walking onto their lawn with murderous intent?" You and Dream weren't really strangers per say, you had to meet up with him when you moved into the server after all, but due to conflicting schedules and how often Tommy and Tubbo dragged you away whenever he tried to make conversation, you two didn't know each other all that well. That doesn't mean that you didn't want to try though.

When Dream realizes where he was and who he was talking, he's quick to adjust his mask and hoodie to make himself look somewhat... presentable, as presentable as he can look with sweat marks and a messed up mask at least.

'Why did those two have to run up to your house out of all places,' Dream mentally whines to himself, clearing his throat and giving you a single awkward wave as he walks up to you.

"Hey, (y/n). I didn't know you lived in this part of the server," that was a lie. Dream did know where you live, he knew where everyone did but it would be a little creepy to just put that information out there, wouldn't it?

"It'd be a little weird if I just started screaming out my address to random people on the streets, wouldn't it?" You try to joke, earning a little laugh from Dream.

"Okay, yeah, you got me there."

You pat an empty spot beside you on your porch step, inviting Dream over for a bit of rest and he accepts your offer gratefully, practically slumping beside you as he suddenly feels just how tired he is.

"Love the new look you gave your mask by the way," Dream groans at your teasing and pulls at his hoodie strings, hoping to cover his whole mask with his hood. He's glad you can't see his face right now because he can feel his cheeks practically burning at the fact that when he finally gets a chance to talk and get close to you it's when he's a sweating tired mess who looks like a wreck at best.

"I'm going to kill those two when I find them," he mumbles under his breath.

The slam that follows within your home could not have been more terribly timed.

"What was that?"

"Must be my wolves," you lied through your teeth, knowing damn well that your actual wolves were sleeping in your bedroom, "they learned how to open doors recently, I think they're messing around at the moment."

While he's distracted, staring at your window to check what's going on inside of your home, you're quick to read through your most recent private messages on your communicator.

Tommy: HE'S HERE!

Tommy: (Y/N), WHY AREN'T YOU TELLING HIM TO FUCK OFF!?

Tommy: Fuck this, we're hiding in the kitchen.

Tubbo: We're making a run for it through the back.

Tommy: We'll hide in your barn like runaway children.

Tubbo: Isn't that what we technically are right now?

Tommy: (y/n), we're making a fucking run for it if you don't answer us in 3 seconds.

Tommy: 3!

Tommy: 2!

Tubbo: We'RE OUT! I REPEAT, WE'RE OUT!

"Yup," you pop your P a little at the end, annoyed yet amused at the string of frantic messages still continuing to pop up on your communicator as they make their escape, "definitely my wolves causing all of that chaos."

Dream knows that you're lying from the way you read through your messages but he doesn't say a word about it, choosing instead to take this golden opportunity to get closer to you without worrying about anyone getting in the way.

"Not really how you thought the day would go, huh?"

You can't help but laugh and shake your head, "Not at all, I thought it was just going to be another boring day with my bird, but hey, I'm glad you showed up to make it a little more special."

"Really?" Dream hates how happy he sounds to hear you say that, but he'll beat himself up over it another time.

"It's not everyday you see Mr. WasTaken himself visiting your humble home, now is it?" Oh, or maybe he won't.

"I guess not, that really should change, shouldn't it?" You can hear the little grin in his voice as he realizes the game your playing.

"It really should, but a quick heads up would be good, unless you'd like to deal with said 'wolves' I mentioned earlier."

He chuckles and shakes his head, mentioning how he's more than aware that those two 'wolves' of yours would probably rip him apart if he ever visited you unannounced.

It isn't long before you invite Dream inside, offering to help clean his mask as an apology on the boys's behalf. He claims that he doesn't mind but he would rather not take his mask off in front of you when he hasn't gotten to know you all that well.

"You don't have to remove it if you feel uncomfortable, I'll just wipe away whatever I can with a cloth, but if you're still hesitant, I'd understand."

He takes a moment to consider your offer, trying to see if you have any other ulterior motives. It's not that he doesn't want to trust you, he does, but sometimes you just have to be a little extra cautious even with people you like. Sensing no ill intent on your part though, he relaxes himself once more and accepts your help, letting his hood finally loosen and fall back to ease your process.

Your actions are incredibly comforting to Dream who can't help himself from leaning into your touches every once in a while. He watches you with his fullest attention as you wipe away the mess on his mask with a damp cloth. He loves how focused you look while doing so, taking in every little quirk you may have while you concentrate. His little crush on you that he's harboured ever since he saw you running around the server can't help but grow every second you give him your attention.

There's a certain draw to you that Dream can't fight off no matter how hard he tries, you just manage to hold a certain power over him and that was evident by the fact that he completely lost interest in continuing his hunt for Tommy and Tubbo even after finding out that they were still most likely on your property. Dream was a persistent man, he was never one to simply drop something with no proper reason at all. There was just this appeal to you that he couldn't describe and he was desperate to find out what it was about you that made him act differently than he normally would.

"Okay then, that's the last of it," he has to stop himself from letting out a whine when you pull your hands away from his mask, he wants to say something to try to get you to continue on longer but decides against it, not wanting to seem desperate. His eyes don't leave you even after you pull away, watching you rinse off the dirty cloth before throwing it into what seemed to be a bin filled with laundry. When you return to sit by his side, he can't help but swallow a bit of his pride to rest his head on your shoulder. It's a big risk to take, but at least he has an excuse for his actions if he ever needs it.

"Tired, Dream?"

"Mhmm," he feels himself melt when you let your fingers run through his slightly sweat damp hair, clearly unphased by the state of it much, to his joy.

"You wanna rest here for a while? I'm sure you could get a good nap in before leaving."

"That depends, can I still use you as my pillow?"

"Not like I have anything else to do for the rest of the day, knock yourself out."

"Then if you'll excuse me," his head is quick to leave your shoulder to instead rest in your lap and the blissful sigh he lets out escapes his lips before he can even stop himself. You just feel so comfortable to him. "I'm gonna drift off, wake me up in an hour or so, will you?"

You let out a hum in response and it isn't long before you start to see Dream's body go slack, his breathing now steady and deep as he slowly falls asleep. It's quite endearing seeing Dream act so affectionately towards you, something you certainly didn't expect from a guy who carries himself with a subtle wave of authority, but you definitely weren't complaining as you continued to play with his hair once again.

Dream would never tell a single soul about it, but this was quiet possible the best sleep he's gotten in years, if he even tried to sleep at all to begin with. The thought to just slow down and relax is never really on his mind, his head always spinning with things he has to do. However, with you, he's glad to know that he can look to you for comfort from now on, something he now realizes is rather hard to find on the server. It pains him to know that he'll have to leave in just a few moments but for now, he'll take what he can get from you and maybe, if you let him, he'll be sure to return your sweet gestures tenfold one day.

A/N: Hello, everyone! I am so sorry for being absent recently, I know the writer's block excuse can only go so far but- yeah ^^' I'm so sorry again for everything and I'm sorry if this isn't what you were hoping for anon! Thank you so much for the rquest and feel free to request it again if you want me to remake this to hopefully suit what you wanted. Anyways, I hope you all have a good day and thank you so much for reading!

(Requests are open and anon is on!)

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagine #dream x reader

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greenygreenland · 3 years

Text

Date: Jean Havoc x Reader (w/ Big Brother Roy Mustang)

REQUESTED

-PRETEND ROY IS YOUNGER FOR THE SAKE OF THIS ONE-SHOT (say, like 20-ish) -sorry this took so long. I had an internship and it got a little crazy

-idc about the timeline because this is a one-shot and i’m not gonna use my big brain lmaooo

Summary: Overprotective Roy? Yes. You’re dating Jean Havoc and your bro watches your first date from the shadows.

Nervous. That was the first emotion you felt when you stepped out of the front door. Today was a big day, maybe more so than you’d like to believe. The sun shimmered overhead, where the sparse clouds drifted lazily across the sky. “Bye, Roy,” you called. “I’ll be back around sixteen o’clock.”

Roy was your elder brother by four years. If a guard dog had a human personification, it would definitely be him. For all your life, he wrote himself off as the responsible sibling. He acted like his grades were better than yours, like he was the one to take out the trash, or finish all the dishes before cockroaches decided to make home in them.

Anyone would have thought that to be true. After all, Roy was young and rose up the military ranks at an alarming rate. But you knew better, along with his close colleagues. Roy was stupid, overprotective, and impulsive. He would do anything that interested him, and if it didn’t, he’d pay no mind to it.

You prayed your brother would pay no mind today.

The front door slammed open with a creak. “Where do you think you’re going?” Roy inquired. He squinted at you as if you were about to do something stupid. “And what are you wearing? I hope you have shorts under that.” You rolled your eyes and adjusted the purse slung over your shoulder.

This sun dress was a gift from Jean for your (age) birthday. The skirt flowed in the passing breezes like a flower, illuminating all the vibrant colours under the rays of sun. It was a beautiful dress. If Roy thought otherwise, you’d make him understand. “It’s called a dress, doofus.” you sarcastically replied. “Not like you’d know when you only see Riza in the Command Centre. Poor you. Haven’t gotten the chance to see her in a skirt, huh?”

Roy averted his gaze to the sky with a haughty huff. “What are you talking about? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Heat rose up his cheeks. “If you’re implying I harbour romantic feelings for my First Lieutenant, then you’re--”

“A hundred percent correct.” you stated with a smug smirk. “I’ll be back around sixteen o’clock. Don’t burn down the house.” If Roy accidently did, you wouldn’t be surprised. He was the Flame Alchemist, and above all, your stupid big brother.

“Where are you going (Y/n)?” Roy called. You flung your hair over your shoulder with a bright smile that could have blinded even the sun. “A date, of course.” Okay, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to rub salt in a wound. What Roy didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. But then you saw look on his face. Nevermind, it was totally worth it to rub in his face: jaw agape, eyes as wide as saucers, and shoulders hunched down.

Ah, it was good to be you.

The city bustled with life. With the sun shining, and the beauty of living in your palms, you trotted down the street. There was nothing that could ruin your date.

"Jean!" Your tone was light as a laugh escaped your lips. "It feels like I haven't seen you in a while."

Cherry red dusted his cheeks. He stuffed the unlit cigarette into his pocket and offered you a hand. In his other, he placed a single (f/c) flower between your hairclips. "I saw you yesterday," he said with a bashful smile. "What do you mean it's been a while?" You bumped shoulders playfully and intertwined your fingers together. "Hyperbole, Jean."

"Well, it's one hyperbole too many." He remarked with a grin. "Do you want to have sandwiches today or a hot meal?" You shrugged, leaning against his shoulder. It was comfortable to have him hold you like this as you made your way down the street. He always had this secure way of linking your arms with his.

Off to the side, Roy couldn't say the same. It wasn’t like he planned on following you. Curiosity just swept him out of the house. And besides, what you didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt, right? Right.

Roy wished Jean didn’t hold you like you were some stuffed animal. For all he knew, Jean was just playing you. It wouldn't be the first when he had over fifteen other girls in the past four months. If Jean broke your heart, he'd be sure to fry the man up to a crisp. "Damn him," Roy grumbled. He pulled down his fedora and adjusted the glasses over his nose. "What makes him think he can touch (Y/n) like that?"

You suddenly laughed loudly at some joke. “Stop!” you cried, playfully smacking his arm. “That’s the worst one I’ve heard all week!”

Roy slinked out of the shadows with a low huff. He shouldn't have worn such a thick jacket. It had to be over twenty something degrees today. But that was no matter because you were being whisked away to the park--by Jean! Roy hurried down the street. Since when did you get lunch? And what was Jean going to do to you?

"The park's a good place." you noted. “Let’s go there.” The bag from Sally's Sandwiches hung from Jean's arm. It swung back and forth as he happily pranced along the street with you hand in hand. "Good thing I remembered to bring a blanket this time. We can sit under that tree."

Oh, what was Jean going to do to you? Roy couldn't stand the thought of you walking with him like that. There had to be an ulterior motive to this 'date'. Maybe Jean wanted to leech off you for money, or maybe he would try seducing you in the park? Roy shook his head. No, no.

Jean wasn't a bad guy. Maybe Roy was thinking too far ahead. But what if he wasn’t? What if Jean pulled some sneaky plan?

You crossed the street just as a car wildly swerved. Its tires screeched against the road like nails on a chalkboard, grinding against stone until it came your way. Roy frantically popped out of his hiding space. "What kind of idiot would--"

Suddenly, you slammed a hand into the ground. The stone transmuted, blocking the car from any unnecessary collisions. It smacked straight into the wall, smoke and steam rising from its engine. "(Y/n)!" cried Jean. "Are you okay?" He frantically placed a hand on either of your shoulders and looked you up and down. A smile rose to your lips. "I'm fine. Not even a scratch."

A sigh escaped Jean's lips. "That's good. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt." You placed a gentle hand to his cheek and pecked it (Roy wanted to gag). "I'm an Alchemist. It'd be a shame if I went down by a car."

"Don't joke about that," Jean chastised. He hooked his arm with yours again and led you away from the screeching onlookers and police. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Roy blinked. Did he hear Jean right? 'I don't know what I'd do if I lost you'? What was that supposed to mean? “Look at them, being all lovey-dovey...” Roy continued after the couple. They passed through a field of forest green grass, where flowers bloomed in straight, uniform lines all around. It was a beautiful spot to have a picnic.

You swung your arm, hand in hand with Jean. The sun kissed your heads from the Heaven’s, illuminating a bright happiness Roy couldn’t look away from. Urgh. He wanted to kick something, or better yet, set a tree on fire. How could you two look so perfect? You were only (age) and that was far too young to be dating.

Besides, you had a career in the military. If your little ‘relationship’ was sealed with a ring, you’d be separated. “Did they even think that through?” Roy grumbled to himself. He gritted his teeth together and ducked behind a bush.

“Excuse me sir.”

Roy glanced over his shoulder with a false smile. “Ah, what is it?” A little boy ball up and down in his hand. The glare on his face could have been intimidating, but Roy was Roy Mustang. He wouldn’t let some kid look down upon him. “Are you lost?”

The kid clutched the rock so tightly his knuckles turned white. “My mama said to watch out for creepy people. I think you fit well, Mr. Pervert.” He took a step back and launched the ball at Roy’s head. “Take that!”

“What are you talking about?!” Roy exclaimed. He jumped out of the bushes and brushed the leaves from his jacket. Boy, it was getting terribly hot in the sweltering heat. Poor Roy found himself losing what little patience remained. “I’m not a creep, kid! Where are your parents? If I was a creep, you would have been kidnapped already. I’m just trying to make sure my sister...!”

At that very second, you so happened to come to a stop. At that very second, you so happened to stare. At that very second, you so happened to recognise a face among strangers.

Roy was royally screwed.

The little kid pointed at Roy as if he were the most wanted criminal in all of Amestris. “Lady!” he screeched. “I saw this guy watching you since you got here! He’s a creep! Call the cops!” Jean squinted at Roy. At first, he actually believed the kid was telling the truth. What kind of normal person wore a winter coat, a fedora, and a pair of sunglasses if not to deal drugs in the alleyways?

“Hold up...” Jean blinked owlishly. “Colonel, is that you?!”

You released Jean’s arm. “Oh, it’s him alright.” A menacing glare rose to your face as you cracked your knuckles. What was Roy supposed to do? The wrath of his sister was not something he could brace himself for, especially when she could be just as impulsive as Edward Elric.

Roy waved his arms in denial. “I don’t know what that kid’s talking about. I just happened to pass by, and in the process, I ended up dropping my wallet, which turned out to be in the bushes, so--”

“Save it.” You cracked your knuckles and pulled on a glove. “It’s time to crank up the heat, because we’re having fried Alchemist tonight.”

Anger. That was the only emotion you felt as you chased your big brother around the park. Today was supposed to be a big day. You planned to walk around, maybe go shopping, and spend the night wandering around with Jean for a whole day. But no. Your stupid, idiotic, big brother had to be the creepy party crasher.

#FMA #fma fanfiction #fmab fanfiction #fmab roy #jean havoc #Roy Mustang #fma x reader #Fullmetal Alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #Fullmetal Alchemist x reader #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood x reader #x reader #fanfiction #anime #fmab x reader

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nat-20s · 3 years

Text

Part 8 of the wonderful! Au: the boys answer some questions! Up to you to decide if they actually clarify anything!

(also on AO3)

~*~

Martin: Hey everyone! I know what some of you are thinking right now: it's not Tuesday, why is this episode in my feed? I know significantly more of you are thinking: I don't consistently keep up with podcast releases, how much free time do you think I have, buddy? To answer your queries: this is a bonus episode! We're answering listener questions to clear the air and/or have fun. Also, I don't know, around 20 to 40 minutes a week, as that is the average amount of time per episode? Maybe during your commute? My husband's omnipotence has been gone for five years, we just have to guess at that sort of thing now.

Jon: For legal reasons, that last statement was a joke. In fact, to cover all of our bases, we do not guarantee that any of our responses are genuine.

Martin: Just because we say we'll answer things doesn't mean we'll answer truthfully. Though, honestly, I think we might make it more enjoyable if we do tell the truth. Like, I don't necessarily have a fun lie prepared for our first question from konspiracyking97: "What's their fuckin deal anyway?"

Jon: Is this referring to the oblique references we've made about being from a parallel reality and only ending up here as a consequence of ending one apocalypse and potentially starting another or the general premise of the show?

Martin: Oh, it's gotta be general premise, yeah?

Jon: In that case, I'm Jon, the other voice you're hearing is Martin, we're married, and we talk about things that are..nice? Good? Usually generally but occasionally rather specifically pleasant.

Martin: That pretty much covers it. It's not a complicated show. Uhh, next question comes from Shane: are either or both of you aliens? Nope!

Jon: Well..

Martin: No. We are 100% human people from Earth, we are under no definition extraterrestrial.

Jon: Eh..

Martin: Okay, first off, I know the tone of that 'eh' and "not fully human" is not synonymous with alien, so even if 100% is being a bit generous, we're still from the same planet as our listeners.

Jon:..

Jon: But. We sort of aren't though. Technically speaking.

Martin: No no no no no. I don't care if it's parallel, Earth is Earth is Earth, regardless of whatever nonsense metaphysics might be occurring.

Jon: So what you're saying is that if you got sucked through a portal and landed on an Earth where dinosaurs were still the predominant species, you wouldn't consider yourself to be an alien?

Martin: Nope!

Jon: I'm certain that they would consider you an alien. All of their mammals are probably shrew sized.

Martin: Sounds like a them problem.

Jon: Sounds like a-?! You know what, no, this will be an off the record debate, for now, I suppose I concede that the two Earths and our physiologies are similar enough that we might, maybe, not count as aliens.

Martin: Thank you. Anyway, our next question is from anonymous, and asks, "Is all of this an ARG?"

Jon: A whomst?

Martin: Alternate reality game. It's a method of storytelling that's interactive with audience, and usually has, I dunno, a certain suspension of disbelief to it where it pretends to be something actually happening in the real world until a dramatic reveal. A lot times it was used as a marketing gimmick, but others have done it just for fun. I can show you some examples after the show?

Jon: So it's in essence a more involved creepypasta?

Martin, delighted: Aw, babe, I'm never going to have a handle on what pop culture you are and aren't aware of, huh?

Jon: We were born within a year of each other, and I've told you that I was a deeply morbid teenager, you should probably be able to intuit some of things, love.

Martin: This coming from a man who has yet to see "It's a Wonderful Life", but has seen every film in the "Banjo Cannibals" franchise, including the Easter special. Jesus doesn't exist in the Banjo Cannibals universe, why does it have an Easter special?

Jon: The movies are rather shoddily translated from Russian, so I'm fairly certain the Easter component of that special was invented wholesale in the English version.

Martin: You say that like it answers more questions than it raises.

Jon: Yes, because it does. Oh, and to answer anonymous's question, no, this isn't an ARG. From my understanding of it, if it were, it'd be a poorly constructed one, as there's no real game element to any of this.

Martin: Hmm. Well, sometimes the game component is just trying to figure out what's going on with the story, or if there's any deeper content, and people are definitely doing that with this show.

Jon: That's not by design though. It's more a side effect of us having poor brain to mouth filters, I'd say.

Martin: Harsh, but fair. Oh, this next one is from Zac, no K, who asks, "Are you two actually even married?"

Jon, flat: We are, but it's under false names because this whole thing is an elaborate insurance scam.

Jon, incredulous: Yes, obviously, we're married. What did you hear in this podcast that would make you wonder otherwise, and how do we rectify it?

Martin: Clearly we need to up our quota for how "disgustingly in love" and "horrifically sappy" we are per episode. Which segues nicely into the next question from Gwen, "What's your favourite wonderful thing you've brought so far?" My answer: my husband. He's kind of my favourite in most things, you know?

Jon: Boooooo

Martin: Why, what's your favourite thing?

[Jon reluctantly sighs]

Jon, indulgent: being married.

Martin: A: serves you right for trying to pretend you're the less horrifically sappy and romantic one even though earlier today someone put a love note in the lunch they packed for me-

Jon:- Lies and slander! I have never, in my life, done that, even once.

Martin: Oh, sure, not even once. And you definitely don't reserve the lilac sticky notes specifically for my lunches because you know I like the colour.

Jon: I..I don't.. you're rather ruining my image here.

[Martin snorts]

Martin: Can't have the audience think that you are, on occasion, an incredibly doting husband-

Jon: -A title I would argue we both share-

Martin: - which is obviously why, even with it being your favourite thing you've brought, being married to me is just a small wonder-

Jon, audibly rolling his eyes: As I already explained-

[A Pause}

Jon: Actually, you're right-

Martin: Wait-

Jon:- I really should have brought it as a larger wonder-

Martin: Wait-

Jon: though I should warn you, I think I'd have far too much material for just one little segment-

Martin: No no no no no-

Jon:- In fact, I think I might have too much material for just one little episode-

Martin: Joo-oon-

Jon: I might have to do a whole series! Where would I even start? I mean I could talk about how every day I get to watch the early morning sun highlight your curls when I get up first, or hear you quietly humming and shuffling around the kitchen when you do, or I could talk about how the lunch notes only started in the first place as retaliation to the notes you would leave on the mirror for me to find, or how every time I get to see you at ease in a way that you aren't with anyone else, it takes my breath away, or I could talk about how cute I find the lines between your eyebrows that you only get when you're thinking something petty, but you know it's petty so you don't want to say anything-

Martin: Okay, okay, Christ, I give !up I surrender, and will cease my teasing on this particular topic.

Jon, probably making the :3 face: You don't have to stop. I mean, I could also discuss how very, very attractive I find your voice when it takes on a teasi-mmph!

[There's a pleased hum, then a pause.]

[The audio quality is slightly changed, as if the recording has been stopped and then started later]

Martin, giddy: Uh, heh, anyway, Eric asked what the least favourite thing we've brought was, and because of Jon's attempt to embarrass me live-

Jon, overlapping: It's definitely not live-

Martin:- on air, I'm gonna say it's my husband.

[Jon scoffs]

Jon : If the past few minutes are any sort of indication, I'm going to go ahead and saying that you are lying.

Martin, sighing contentedly: Maybe a bit, but how was I supposed to resist when your indigance gives you that adorable little nose scrunch? In reality, my least favourite thing was probably, um, mini golf? Which, I still don't think is inherently bad, definitely superior to regular golf, but when it's the only thing a next door two year old wants to do with you, the charm begins to wear off a bit.

Jon: Wow. A rather scathing review of a toddler.

Martin: Not so much a scathing review of a toddler as it's a scathing review of minigolf's inability to keep its appeal after the third time in the same week.

Jon: Mmm, the sound effects rather quickly go from part of the atmosphere to part of the irritation, don't they?

Martin: So what's your least favorite thing we've covered here?

Jon: Oh, love, I'm not going to pretend to have nearly enough memory of what we've covered so far to have a least favorite.

Martin: Really? Nothing that you regret or rescind?

Jon: Well, regret, certainly. It was one of the weeks where you went first, and your second item was mutual aid funds, and what they can do for marginalized communities, and I had to follow it with fucking Slapchop.

Martin, poorly suppressing laughter: In your defence, Slapchop, or whatever offbrand we have, is pretty useful, especially when either your scar or my arthritis is acting up.

Jon: I'm still not convinced you didn't somehow see my notes for the recording and decided you get revenge for the first year that we knew each other.

Martin, no longer suppressing his laughter: Yep, you got me! This marriage wasn't an act of insurance fraud, but it was a near decade long con to humiliate you on a podcast that about twenty people listen to. I'll draft up the divorce papers immediately, and then we can finally go our separate ways.

Jon: I'm glad you've at last admitted it. Such a weight off of my shoulders. Goodbye forever then.

Martin: Right.

Jon: Right.

[A beat.]

[There's a pfft from one of them, before both dissolve into giggles that lasts a good 30 seconds.]

Martin, slightly out of breath: I can't believe we're the kind of people that talk this much about speciality kitchen gadgets.

Jon: Sorry about that.

Martin: God, don't apologize. I'm, like, deliriously happy with our varying degrees of useful cooking ware filled life. If you had told 25 year old me that one day he'd be debating the merits of getting a tortilla press with his husband, he'd have wept, I tell you.

Jon: Funny, if you told 25 year old me the same thing, he would've said "You don't know the future,piss off" and then quietly have a bit of a panic at 3 am that night.

Martin: I bet you were insufferable in your mid-twenties.

Jon: First of all, who isn't, secondly, I was fresh out of Oxford, and third, I was insufferable in my late twenties, as you can attest to, and I'm insufferable now, as you can further attest to, so extrapolation would indicate that, yes, I was insufferable back then.

Martin: Probably a different kind of insufferable, though.

Jon: There are different kinds?

Martin: Of course! You used to be "prick boss" insufferable and now you're "smug in a way that I can't admit I find hot or it will go straight to your head" insufferable.

Jon, in the aforementioned smug tone: Oh, really?

Martin: See, see! Straight to your head.

Jon: Well straight is probably the wrong descriptor-

Martin: Oof, 4 out of 10 joke, babe.

Jon: That would be a far more convincing rating if you weren't grinning right now.

Martin: It's a genuine review, I'm just well known to be a sucker.

Jon: You and me both, darling.

Martin: Okay, if you're pulling out darling, you're clearly in too giddy of a mood to be focused on recording. Last question, from Jess, "You two mentioned meeting at work, but how did you actually end up together?" That's easy, Jon pulled me out of a hell dimension and then we went on the lam together to Scotland.

Jon: If that's not the way to tell a cute boy you like him, I don't know what is.

Martin: All right, that wraps up this bonus episode, and as the old saying goes, hiding from murderers in a cottage is more conducive to romance than suggesting you gouge out your eyes together.

Jon, cut off: Hey-!

#tma #jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #post canon #wonderful! au #my fic

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ubemango · 3 years

Note

*gregorian chant* breeding kink c*m inflation kink breeding kink c*m inflation kink breeding kink c*m inflation kink bree

In another universe pups is the ABO fic I never wrote HJDHJDSHJDSHJHJFHJFSD OK so anyway I won’t lie I had to google what cum inflation was and when I saw what I saw.... yes. Ok. It got my brain gears going *rusty noise of gears turning* U know what I mean??? So i was thinking..... ***NSFW WARNING

You see hentai on Namjoon’s laptop one day. You’ve mastered the art of nonchalance, though. So when he comes back from the bathroom and gives you a smile—as if you haven’t gotten a peek into Things That Turn Namjoon On That Don’t Include You—you breathe an internal sigh of relief. Safe.

Except you’ve stopped taking notes and now all you can think about is Namjoon watching porn so brazenly on his laptop. Where he does schoolwork of all places! He could at least just use his phone. Also you’re just a teensy bit wet because cartoon boobs and dick is still conducive to horny hours, even if you are doing something as unsexy as critical writing.

Your study date ends with a simple kiss on the lips because Hoseok’s home this time and you’d rather not taint the living room space while he’s occupying the apartment too. Namjoon slips in a little bit of tongue though, because he’s cheeky like that.

You text Namjoon right when you get home. You lie and say you’re going to sleep early, with the excuse that you have to wake up early for a meeting with your advisor. And when he sends you his good night text, you get to it. Getting ready for bed, turning your night light to the colour red once you’ve settled in.

You have sleuthing to do.

Because the hentai wasn’t just... well there’s no regular hentai, is there? It’s just. There. Being hentai. And what’s Namjoon without an inclination for messy pussies because of—because of—

You close your eyes tight because you can’t believe what you’re about to type into the search bar on your phone.

But first!

Incognito. Whew. The shame of clearing your history would be too much to bear. So when you press enter on cum inflation it isn’t so bad. Especially when all the X-rated websites pop up and your screen just becomes Anime Boobies Galore when you click the first link.

You can’t believe Namjoon had the gall to just leave that website up there on his screen. You’re scrolling down the page and already you’re feeling hot. And it isn’t even because of the fact that you’re skimming through videos of perfect girls getting so cummed up their stomachs literally become distended. Nor is it the thought of Namjoon watching it and enjoying it, either. Rather...

Was he thinking of you when he was watching these videos? Bending your knees up over your shoulders and promising you that he’s saved up all his cum for you? Getting you to drool down your chin, cross-eyed?

(Your hand is down your panties at the third video you come across. You come pretty hard when you see the girl’s pussy literally spew semen from how hard the guy comes inside her. And when you reach post-orgasm clarity you immediately exit the browser, chuck your phone onto the floor, and hope to god sleep overtakes you within twenty seconds.)

The next time you meet up for another study date with Namjoon is the weekend. That’s a good three nights of jacking it off to the same video of a huge dongle fucking a good five buckets of semen inside his girlfriend. And when you settle all your notebooks and laptop down, you immediately go for the kill.

“Do you like anime boobs?”

Namjoon chokes on the water he’s drinking from his bottle. “I—ahem. What, uh... what brought this on?”

“I’ve been watching a lot of hentai so I thought I’d ask,” you clarify.

“Uh-huh,” he says incredulously.

“And you know, it’s just—I liked it. A lot. You know. Just for your information.”

Namjoon blinks. “Are you trying to get at something here?”

“Because I don’t really mind, you know. Porn is porn. And you can like whatever you want. Like as long as it’s nice and consensual,” you ignore him.

“Babe.”

“Like I would never make fun of you because I’m—well I’ve watched Grinch porn before but that was against my own will—“

“Baby,” Namjoon laughs, squishing your cheeks to stop your rambling. “What’s going on?”

“I like h’ntai,” you try to articulate with his hands still keeping your lips pressed in like this.

“I get that. But why?”

Oh god. You don’t even know what you want from this conversation. Maybe the guilt of catching him has caught up to you. Or maybe you also just want to have a distended stomach from having Namjoon bust a fat load inside you.

You take his hands from your face, clutch at them for support. “I saw... Um. What you were watching. The other day.”

“Ah.” You watch Namjoon’s ears turn red. He squeezes your hands right back. “You—damn. I’m sorry.”

“No—!” You clear your throat when it warbles. “N-No... it’s... well I...”

You feel his thumb rub comfort into your skin. He looks like he’s getting ready for a scolding. So when you say, “I actually really liked it and I’ve been watching it every night,” in one breath, Namjoon blinks.

And blinks.

After a solid sixteen seconds of silence, he says: “That’s really hot.”

You both stare at each other. The notebook you laid out for notes sits quietly, waiting.

“You wanna go to your bed—?”

Namjoon nearly dislodges your shoulder when he pulls you up to stand. “Yes we’re going right now.”

Something you’re really thankful for when it comes to Namjoon is how compatible you two are. You can’t count how many times you’ve both just looked at each other, no words to say, but somehow still completely on the same page. It’s like you both have the instinct of the other person ingrained in the part of your brain that deals with intuition.

You’re pretty keen on foreplay most days, but even Namjoon sees you’d rather rip your hair out than not immediately go for the feeling of his dick ramming inside you right at this very second. He laughs when you strip in record time, laying supine on the bed while he undresses.

“What’s gotten into you?” As if he’s not hard himself. He crawls over you with kisses warm on your belly, your breasts. “I have to admit. I really just wanted to fuck today.”

“Oh thank god,” you sigh. You knew something was up the second you realized Hoseok wasn’t home. He probably sexiled himself. You remind yourself to buy him dinner one day for his noble deed. “Just—I’m wet. I think. I just want you inside me, please.”

Namjoon groans. “You’re dangerous.”

“I watched hentai for three nights straight, I’m horny,” you whine in correction.

“You wanna know something? Please don’t laugh.”

“What?” Oh you’re wet alright. Namjoon lines his cock at your hole, slides tight inside. “O-Oh—what?”

“I kind of. I haven’t jacked off since the last time we met,” he says, voice tight. “Thank god you watched that shit because I probably sound crazed right now.”

“Huh?”

He grinds up till his hips meet your ass, and you shiver when the tip of his cock hits just right. “I—I wanted to save my cum for you,” he admits, sweating at his neck, and something clicks inside you, because you were right.

“I thought—about that too—ngh!”

Namjoon fucks you steady now. No more shy thrusts like he always starts off with to gauge your mood. He knows you want it. “Shit. About what, baby?”

“You. A-And... making me full... of you.”

“Oh my god.” He grabs your thighs, opening you wide. Takes a thumb to your clit like he’s on a mission. “Will you come with me? Can you do that?”

Holy fuck you’d do anything for him. So you nod, moaning with every hard thrust he gives you. Your legs threaten to close when he rubs you raw, but he commands with a low voice:

“Open, pups.”

Embarrassingly, that does it. He’s never one to order you around. And knowing he’s purposefully saved you his cum like it’s Christmas come early, you know better than to hinder the process.

Your legs shake when you open wider, feeling the warmth of his cock tenfold. “I’m close,” you cry when he slams into you.

“Feel it here?” He slides a sweaty palm to your abdomen. “Gonna give it to you right there. Make you so full. So pretty. All—mine—!”

You don’t even know if that was your signal. But the thought of him swelling you up like that girl on your screen, her womb so full with cum and promise—

“Joonie!” You shriek, toppling right into red-hot pleasure, clutching at the sheets because it’s too much. You come in waves, and Namjoon rides it with you, bucks into you with one last groan. You feel it, feel his excess warmth coat your insides just like he’d told you, and you pretend you feel your stomach balloon for more space. He rubs a grateful hand on your stomach.

“My little cum dump,” he coos tiredly, and you slap his arm with a laugh.

“Don’t pull out yet.” You slide your arms around his shoulders, bringing his tired form onto you. “Keep me plugged in.”

He laves at your neck. “Oh so now I’m out of line when I say weird shit.”

“I never said it was weird,” you whisper. “I’ll happily house all your semen.”

“Oh my—pfft. Ok. You know what? Show me that video you were watching, I need to know what’s got you like this,” he snorts, and you promise to do it later. You’ll just keep him like this for a little while.

#bts smut #namjoon smut #bts scenarios #ubemango fic #f: pups series #d: pups series

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travellingarmy · 3 years

Text

║Chongyun║Ghost

Requested from Wattpad.

Gender-neutral.

Word count: 2.6k

---

"Hey, Chongyun, do like doing whatever you're doing?" you ask, balancing the flat side of a pencil on your upper lip. He tears his eyes away from a book he was invested in, focusing his attention to you

"Exorcism, I mean."

"Of course," he plainly answers without hesitation, a bit confused as to why you suddenly brought it up. You look at him skeptically from the side of your eyes before placing the pencil down on the table. "Are you sure you aren't saying that because your family is consisted of exorcist?" you say, "I mean, if my line of family were full of exorcist, I might feel a bit burdened and pressured.. Feeling as if I have no other choice but to carry out the family name.."

He takes your thoughts into consideration, agreeing that it does sound reasonable. "I understand what you are saying, but believe me, being an exorcist is what I love doing," he reassures, and you, not wanting to push the topic further, let it go at that, enjoying another comfortable silence under the setting sun the shone through the windows of the living room.

Chongyun has been visiting you frequently for the past week that him being there wasn't a bother to you now. Well, it didn't bother you at all, it was just that your heart couldn't handle itself whenever he was around; you shyly admit that you have a small crush on the exorcist.

"Oh, right, I--" Just as you were speaking, the front door burst open, causing you and Chongyun to be startled and look over the sofa, seeing another bluenette stepping inside. "Xingqiu, you can't just barge into someone's house like that!" you shout, fuming with a slight anger. "And you'll break the door!"

Xingqiu stood there, looking a bit clueless as if he totally forgot why he came to your house. "Hey, Xingqiu, what are you doing here?" Chongyun ask, setting down the book to the space beside him and stood up, facing the other male. "Chongyun, so you're here again, huh?" Xingqiu asks, not even bothering to greet either the two of you. His eyes started to wander around the place, looking quite worried and something else that you couldn't quite place your fingers on.

"Not going to greet us politely, huh?" you commented with a bored expression. Chongyun stares at you then back to Xingqiu. "Hey, wanna take this outside?" he asks, snapping Xingqui out from his daze. "Oh, right, is.." Xingqiu trails, not wanting to say anything further, eyes hiding something deep within their colours that was covered with great anxiousness.

Chongyun nods silently. "Yeah, it's okay," he says and then turns to you. "Ill be right back, (Y/N)." You nodded quietly, a bit concerned for the bookworm as he looks your way, yet not say anything. He looked out of it and you planned to ask Chongyun once he comes back.

The two males went outside, closing the door behind as they leave. You strain your ears to eavesdrop on their conversation, but the door muffled out clear words, so you gave up, slouching into the seat.

It took no more than 10 minutes for them to chat outside before Xingqiu leaves the premises and Chongyun returning back inside. However, Xingqiu looked somewhat panicked with eyes filled of worry and the other element that you couldn't quite pinpoint. "What were you guys talking about? Xingqiu looked a bit off," you say, eyes following the bluenette back to his spot beside you.

"It's nothing.. Xingqiu has just been having nightmares, is all," he hesitantly says, eyes not looking your way as he utters so. You were quite surprised. Xingqiu? Having nightmares? That was truly new and quite something to tease him about-- but that was something you won't do, since it was something concerning if he looked the way he did.

"Oh, it's getting late," Chongyun comments, looking out the window behind you. "Should I cook you something to eat before I leave?" You shook your head, "The snacks from earlier kind of spoiled my appetite for tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."

He nods and bid you a good night before exiting your house.

You stayed in the living room for a while then cleaned up any mess and locked the front door before going to your room and changing into your sleepwear.

Letting out a tired sigh, you sunk under the warmth of your comforters, burying your face into one of the pillows. No matter how tired you may be, your thoughts did it's usual thing- wandering around aimlessly and thinking whatever it wants to, which brought you to Chongyun.

It was something you think about each night and it never fails to make your heart squeal. You had been picking up unusual behaviours from him throughout the week such as accompanying you everywhere-- be it to your kitchen or outside the streets of Liyue. It kind of made you more confident about confessing to him.

Someday, you'll confess, you thought to yourself and drifted off to sleep, dreaming a happy dream of the potential future if he does happen to reciprocate your feelings.

When the sun shone through your curtains, Chongyun was already at your door, waiting for you to open the door. "Good morning, did you already have breakfast?" Chongyun greets. "Not yet," you answered and move out of the way to let him in.

"I'll go make something for you right now," Chongyun says, giving you one look before heading to the kitchen where you watch him make breakfast for the both of you. It was unnatural at first, but with the amount of persistence, you allowed Chongyun to make breakfast for you each day.

"Thank you for the meal," you say and took your chopsticks, taking a bite before complimenting his skills.

It was a quiet morning, both of you enjoying breakfast. Then, "Say, (Y/N), is there something you want to do before you die?" Chongyun suddenly asks. You look away from your bowl and look at him curiously, though his gaze was on his bowl. "That's out of the blue.." you comment, chuckling a bit.

He places his chopsticks down and closed his eyes, sighing. "Well, is there?" He looks up at you, revealing his cat-like eyes. At that, you knew he wasn't going to let you change topics, not that you have anything else to talk about, and that it was something that most people suddenly brings up suddenly. "Hm.. I don't think so. I mean, I'm really happy with my life right now and being by yours and Xingqiu's side," you say, taking the topic with much thought.

"You're lying," he affirms, catching you with surprised eyes. "What do you mean?" you ask, quite confused at how strongly he believes his words. "There is not one person who doesn't have at least one thing that they want to have or want to do before they die," he expresses.

You weren't sure why he was taking the topic so seriously. He asked you this multiple times before and back then, he just hums in response. But since he pushed the topic on, you have no other choice but to think it thoroughly.

You thought about things that you used to want to do, but they were sooner or later fulfilled. Then, your reoccurring fantasy popped into your head as stealthily as it could: Chongyun reciprocating your feelings. You guessed that it was the only thing left to do in this world-- maybe going on adventures with him as a couple.

Knowing this, your face flushes red-- the same colour when Chongyun accidentally ate something spicy to make him hot. "Hm? (Y/N)?" Chongyun stares at you quizically. "Well, did you figure it out?"

"Oh, ah, uhm.. I-- It's nothing!" you stutter, averting your eyes from him and chuckling awkwardly. Did he possibly know and that's why he was asking? You didn't know. "Can you tell--" You caught him off. "Ah, why are you being so pushy today, hm? Do you want me to say something specific?" you ask. Seeing your sudden burst, Chongyun decided to leave it at that, returning the atmosphere to the comfortable silence to help you relax and forget about what he asked.

"Hey, Chongyun, you haven't been doing any exorcism at all these past few days-- what's up with that?" you brought up, now located in the living room where both of you spend most of the day away doing whatever pops inside your head. "Ah, I just have much free time, is all," he answers, sounding as if he predicted you'd question him about it sooner or later.

"Really? Well, I heard that there was a ghost that's been haunting an old lady's place and many other series of hauntings.." Upon hearing your own words, you gasped. "Wait, could Xingqui's nightmare be linked to this?" You turn your upper body to face the male.

"Oh, uh, I guess..?" Chongyun says and shrugs, not knowing what else to say. You crossed your arms, mentally patting yourself. It was silence after that, doing your own thing as Chongyun does his.

"Hey, you wanna go somewhere?" Chongyun asks, getting your attention. "Sure? Where do you want to go?" You look at him, eyes following up as he stands up. "You'll find out," is all he said and you had no other choice but to follow.

Out on the streets, you both bumped into Xingqui, who looked quite sleep deprived, looking down at the grown below him. "Hey, have you been crying?" was the first thing you say, seeing redness around his eyes. You went to put a hand on his arm, but he flinched when you did so.

He looks up. "Oh, hey.." he greets tiredly. "Xingqiu, are you okay?" Chongyun ask, visibly concerned for his best friend.

Xingqiu was quiet for a while, looking hesitant to speak. "Chongyun, when will you finally do it? I can't stand this any longer and knowing that you're always going there is driving me insane!" He harshly grabs Chongyun shoulders.

"Calm down, Xingqiu." You put a hand on his shoulders, feeling him stiffen for a quick second before letting go of Chongyun. Xingqiu did not act the way he used to be and it worried both you and Chongyun.

The hydro male took a breather, both of you allowing him to do so. Then, "When will you let go?" he whispers, his tone breaking.

Your heart tightened. You did not know what was happening with Xingqiu, but it hurt you seeing him looking like a mess. He wasn't his usual self.

You looked over to the icy male, eyes filled with worried. He looks at you, eyes also filled with the same emotion, yet hiding something else within it.

Sighing, Chongyun spoke, "Come with me, Xingqiu, and you too, (Y/N)." You nodded, and followed, looking over to Xingqiu every now and then whose head was down, hiding the emotions swirling in his eyes.

Soon, the three of you returned to your house. You were confused, but didn't say anything and letting Chongyun speak. "(Y/N), you like me, don't you?" Chongyun suddenly ask, back facing you as his front faces your house.

The air in you felt as if it was punched out. "How did you.." You couldn't finish it. How did he figure it out? Did Xingqiu tell him? You did tell Xingqiu your feelings for the exorcist, but to think he betrayed you? You turn to the traitor. "Xingqiu--" You were cut off. "It's useless, (Y/N).." Chongyun gave a heavy sigh.

"He can't hear you."

You were confused. What did he mean? "(Y/N), I am going to guess the one thing you want before you die.." Chongyun says. "You like me and want to confess your feelings, right? It'll feel much heavy if you don't." He didn't directly answer your question, but he was getting there.

"Yesterday, Xingqiu told me about it and I guess that is the one thing you want to do or else you can't rest."

"(Y/N), do you know why I kept visiting you?" Chongyun asks. You, however, couldn't give a reply, too confused to see where he was getting at. "I was trying to exorcise you."

"What do you mean by that, Chongyun? I don't understand," you say. First, Xingqiu can't hear you and second, he is trying to exercise you? It was confusing and it would be understandable.. For other restless spirits.

Chongyun turns his body to face you, however, his head was the same a Xingqiu's; head facing down. "(Y/N), you're dead."

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach upon hearing it. It sounded absolutely absurd and you didn't believe it.

Quickly, you turn to Xingqiu and grabbed him by his shoulders, tears threatening to fall. However, when you made contact with him, he flinches. "Hey, Xingqiu, don't play with me right now!" you raise your voice that would be loud to annoy him to break this little prank, but he just stares at you-- or rather, looking your way with a sadded expression but not really at you.

".. Hey, Chongyun, they're in front of me, aren't they?" Xingqiu ask, cracking a sad smile as tears start to trickle his face. Chongyun nods silently.

Knowing this, Xingqiu continues. "(Y/N), I can't hear you or see you.. But let me apologise.. I'm sorry.. It's my fault that you.. Died," he says. "If we hadn't gone to that cliff after it rained, I would still be able to talk with you."

It took a while to understand and recall what he was saying, but the locked memory- the last puzzle to understanding everything- returned to you. That day, you had slipped and fallen, and because at how sudden it was, you panicked and was unable to spread your glider, leading to your death.

Xingqiu has been recuperating from the horror and guilt, having nightmares of the scene he had witnessed that day.

Chongyun was the one to find your spirit bounded to your house and the streets of Liyue being an exorcist and all, so he took it upon himself to make sure you rest in peace. However, since you weren't aware you were dead, it made it difficult for him to make that happen. So, he hung around you, sneakily exercising you when you two hung out in your house.

Tears fall down on the side of your face, now having memory of it, and turned to Chongyun who looked at you with sadness.

Sadness. That was the one emotion you couldn't figure out.

"I.. I'm really sorry, (Y/N)," Chongyun spoke softly, looking at you. "I don't want you to go, but as an exorcist.. And to relieve Xingqui's nightmares.. I, I have no other choice."

"But before you go, I want you to know that I've always liked you.. I was.. Hoping to tell you how I felt, but I guess I can't now," voice breaking as he confesses.

"No.. I, I don't want to go!" you shout and clung onto his shoulders. "I'm not going, I'm not going!" More tears fell faster than it did before as you pleaded to stay.

He places his hands on your shoulders, tears of his own trickling down his face. "Please, wait for me in the next life," he says.

The reason why Chongyun excels than that of other exorcist was because of his energy, and that was something you knew. And so, a stubborn and tireless spirit such as yourself was nothing for him once he got you to awaken and face what was to be your eternal rest.

"Sweet dreams."

---

#chongyun #genshin impact chongyun #childe x reader #chongyun oneshot #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact oneshots #genshin x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin angst #angst #xingqiu #genshin impact x reader

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slytherinnbitch · 3 years

Text

Day 15: Tinder Date Gone Wrong

"Potter, don't tell me you're wearing that to your date tonight?" Draco questions with distain. As much as it pains his heart to see Harry go on a date, that doesn't mean he won't ge a good friend and advise him on his horrible fashion choices.

Harry looks down at his tshirt and jeans and looks up at Draco with a confused expression, "Yeah what's wrong with these?"

"Nothing if you never want a second date in your life." Draco replies as he starts rummaging around the closet. At last he finds a button-up shirt and a pair of trousers, both of which had been forcefully bought on Draco's insistence. He throws them at Harry and orders him to get changed.

When Harry gets out of the bathroom, Draco has a hard time taking his eyes off him. Harry, he looks positively edible. He knew green would suit Harry perfectly, stubborn git doesn't want to wear Slytherin colours.

"Well...?" Harry asks at last, when Draco just stares.

"You'll do, I suppose." Draco says with an air of indifference.

"Alright, I'm off then!" Harry bids his goodbye and leaves the house.

An hour after Harry has left...

"Harry!" Draco hears someone call out from the living room, so he bookmarks his books and goes to check and sure enough Weasley and Granger are standing there looking around for Harry.

"Weasley, Granger hello." Draco greets and they greet him back and ask for Harry.

"Oh he has gone on an date actually. Some app called Tinder or something, he said it's the new form of dating these days. Terribly dire if you ask me." Draco says and Weasley and Granger share a look.

He understands why Harry is often pissed off about Granger and Weasley and their looks.

"Tell me he isn't actually that much of an idiot." Weasley says and shakes his head.

"We all agree he is an idiot but why exactly in this case, if you don't mind me asking." Draco asks.

"Because he clearly can't see that you're deeply in love with him, that's why!" Weasley growls in frustration. And Draco stops breathing, no it can't be. Weasley, oblivious Weasley can't be so observant.

"Yes, Draco we both know. Have known for quite some time and believe it or not. Ron had been the one to concur it." Granger replies calmly, as if they are talking about knowing a first year spell and not Draco's love for Harry.

"But- but how?"

"You're not as subtle as you think you're, mate. Not when it comes to Harry and-" Just then Harry comes in with a loud pop, looking thoroughly disgusted and looks like he needs a drink or nine.

"Draco!" He says before he takes in their guests, "Oh hello Ron, hi Hermione."

"Hey Harry," they both say in unison.

"You're early, you know?" Draco says and Harry's eyes snaps back to his.

"Yes I know. Turns out even Muggleborns use Tinder and this bloke was totally heroworshiping me and I couldn't take it. Made it seem I'm taking him home, paid the bill. Outside in the alleyway, I modified his memory and apparated directly here." Harry shrugs as if memory modification isn't a crime at all.

"Harry! You can't just do that to any one!" Hermione says with indignation.

"Mate, I'm an Auror. You should not be saying that infront of me." Ron says at the same time. But Harry just waves his hand at them.

"Oh c'mon Hermione. I didn't want my name on the front page again, 'Chosen One Chooses Prefers to Date Muggles' or whatever rubbish they come up with this time. And mate, you won't turn me in in your wildest dreams so...." Harry says then frowns, "What are you both doing here?"

"Oh we came to look for you. Draco said you had gone out. Let's go out for a pint then?" Weasley suggests and looks at Hermione and they have some kind of married couple conversation.

"Yes, let's go. You too, Draco. Go get changed." Granger says and smiles sweetly at him. Draco does not like that smile one bit.

"Okay..." Because what else would you say to Hermione Granger.

When he comes back out, the couple is nowhere to be seen and Harry is sitting on the couch waiting for Draco.

"Ron and Hermione remembered some urgent work and left. We can still go, if you're in." Harry says and Draco nods in agreement and both of them floo to the leaky.

They greet Hannah at the bar and get their drinks and food, making way towards the corner table. As soon as they are inside, Harry projects out privacy and silencing spells, effectively shutting out the loud pub.

"Do you think anyone would ever actually like me for me?" Harry asks abruptly.

"Yes I think so."

"You can't be sure, can you? I don't think I would ever find someone who likes me, Harry and not the Savior of the fucking Wizarding World." Harry says, somewhat morosely.

"That's not true, Harry and you know that."

"Well I bloody well don't. Give me one name, Draco. One person who has liked me for myself and never for being the Chosen One or any of that shit. Cho doesn't ever count because well she didn't like me. And Ginny liked me as Chosen One before it became something else. Never any fucking one has liked me for me. Nuh uh, all they want is the fucking Saviour. I'm bloody person, dammit." Harry dumps the pint glass loudly on the table in frustration and Draco has to say it.

"I...uh I like you." Draco stammers and Harry looks up sharply at him.

"I know you like me, Draco but I'm not talking about that, I want someone to like me as a partner!"

"Yes Harry, and I'm saying exactly that. I like like you. As someone I would like to date and not just as a friend." Woah Draco said that without so much as stammering. He pats himself mentally as Harry inhales sharply.

"Look, you obviously don't have to do anything about it, I mean I just wanted to point out that you're wrong and clearly Potter, you must know me well enough to be sure that your fame has never been an attracting factor to me. Rather the opposite, really. So it's not that. I like you Harry as you are as a person and not for defeating that old fart," Draco says, nervousness and Harry's silence making him say just about anything.

"Draco, I had no idea really. And I would like to date you. Let's see where the road takes us. If you'll let me," Harry says and he smiles shyly at Draco. Draco just nods in return.

"So can today be considered a date? Or the Leaky too bland for your posh tastes, huh?" Harry jokes and Draco snorts at that playfully.

"Well the Leaky is sort of plebian for my posh tastes but you know just this once I'll allow it," Draco says in his most posh accent possible.

"Woah, Draco you're so generous. What would I ever for such generosity?" Harry says and they both look at each other for a moment before both of them are snickering out loud and can't keep the smiles off their face.

And Draco suddenly remembers why it was so easy to fall in love with Harry in the first place as they chat and spend the evening together.

Requests open and welcome!

Day 14: Muggles Studies || Day 16: I Love You

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chil2de · 3 years

Note

How are you today? If its alright with you, can I request a Atsumu x fem reader where she has a super tomboy style and ALWAYS wears baggy clothes, but one day atsumu comes over to hang out and the only outfit she has left is kinda a tight fitting shirt and for the first time ever Atsumu realizes just how curvy his girlfriend is

sorry if thats to specific! feel free to ignorethis!

warning - miya atsumu x reader

hiii! i’m doing okay anonie, thank you and i hope u are faring well!!! so um this ended up being a LOT longer than i expected pls forgive me it was supposed to be a cute lil drabble but now its like uh 2k words aJdhfhhd, i really loved this idea!!! don’t worry ab it being too specific i actually like that and it helps give me a general idea about the req

well whilst this isn’t tooooo nsfw there are a few small themes in the beginning + swearing since i write atsumu like that and implications of sexual content ig at the end but aside from that? just some fluff for our fav king. characters are aged up and i am unsure how it would work but call it anime logic and enjoy! thanks for requesting! (okay rereading the ending is lowkey smut why am i like this)

“b-cup.” atsumu huffed with confidence. he took a large swig out of his water bottle, nodding his head wisely in affirmation.

“really? i’d say c-cup.” suna chimed in, his half-lidded gaze narrowing.

“nah, it’s b-cup”

“what the hell are you two talking about?” osamu interjected, concern and disgust thick on his features as he came over carrying a few towels.

“(y/n)’s bra size” suna nonchalantly responded, his eyes flicking up for a few seconds as he accepted the towel from osamu.

“‘tsumu i knew you were messed in the head but, suna? have you caught his germs?”

“fuck are you making it sound like i have some viral disease?”

“you don’t?” suna snorted, plopping down onto the floor to sit cross-legged.

“why don’t you just ask her?” osamu’s gaze flickered onto yours from across the court. you felt your ears burn from the way the three of them were staring at you.

was something on your face?

a bug? dirt?

“huh? like i’m supposed to say, hey baby girl, what size are your tits?”

“i’m still saying b-cup”

“c-cup”

“i think b-cup” osamu joined in, watching atsumu screw his face at him

“you goddamn hypocrite-“ “who’s being a hypocrite?” kita inquired with a half-hushed tone, making his way over with a few protein bars

“oh my god i’m going home” atsumu groaned, resting his palms on his knees as he stood up. he beelined towards you, his exhaustion painted his lazy smile beautifully. he still had the energy to turn around over his shoulder and flip his middle finger up at his team whilst his right hand snaked around to your waist.

somewhere around your waist. it took him a little bit of digging through all the fabric.

it didn’t matter to him, though. as much of a jackass as he might’ve been, he never judged you for the way you dressed. even if it meant that sometimes you looked a lil bit homeless, at the end of the day- he still had that glimmer in his eyes whenever he saw you.

you would be his favourite baby girl, no matter what.

“is that my shirt you’re wearing?” he hummed, glancing down to look at it.

it was, in fact, one of his shirts. it was matte black in colour, with a small dip that would showcase atsumu’s collar bones. it was a little bit faded from the many wash cycles it endured throughout its lifetime, but he would always notice the small tear in the bottom right section of the fabric.

“sorryyy, i know you just washed it but it smelled so nice. also, wow, did you put on deodorant? you actually smell like a man it’s kinda creepy”

“i always put on deodorant you dipshit, you’re always crying about how pretty my face looks so your nose doesn’t pick up the scent. it’s verbena citrus, buy your own because i know you’ll try stealing mine so i’m putting a padlock on that shit.” atsumu scoffed, digging his fingers into your sides to tickle you as you walked. you squirmed, swatting him away as you dug your hands into the pockets of your joggers. they were not atsumu’s, unfortunately, for you found out the hard way that you would literally have to drag the excess fabric behind you like some train dress or bundle it up and fold it, which, in retrospect- did not look too aesthetically pleasing. you settled for your own joggers and favourite high-top sneakers to match.

“you know you’ll say all this but give me your deodorant anyway, right?” you stuck your tongue out at him. he rolled his eyes, ruffling your hair.

“hey.” he called out, causing you to direct your attention towards him.

he nudged your arm with his elbow.

oh.

“give it here.”

you uncurled your left hand out of your pocket, zipping it up to make sure the contents inside didn’t spill. atsumu slid his right hand away from your waist and opened his palm up, intertwining his fingertips between yours into a tight lock. he grazed his thumb over the back of your hand, giving you a small squeeze.

“that was the cheesiest and most corniest thing you’ve done and i hated it” you made a mock gagging sound, averting your gaze.

you could feel the blush fresh on your cheeks, heart pounding in your chest like it was about to explode.

“wait, you thought i was holding your hand because we’re dating? i’m just doing it because i know your dumbass would get lost” atsumu snorted, throwing his head back in laughter.

well,

you could still see the light blush tinting his cheeks. and it wasn’t the sunset.

“mmm, should i wear this one- wait-“ you grabbed the shirt, folding it upwards as you took a small whiff. well,, you did wear it yesterday… yeah, you did put it in the laundry basket,,, no, it didn’t smell toooo bad, but..

you groaned, tossing it back into said basket as you furrowed your brows in concentration.

you heard the doorbell ring which only caused you to panic even further. you just needed a shirt. literally any shirt. you were about to cut your freaking pants out and sew them together to another pair for a shirt.

since it was a friday, you had atsumu walk you halfway home. you only lived a street away from him, and the apartment was conveniently built on a fork between the road down to his house and the supermarket. hence, he dropped you off and went to the store all by himself like a responsible adult to grab some snacks for the weekend.

“it’s open!” you called out, leaning your jaw back as you shouted in hopes for your voice to travel further.

in that moment, just in the corner of your eye- you saw a familiar flash of black.

you swooped the fabric up, quietly humming in pleasure when it smelled like laundry detergent and fabric softener.

you lifted the shirt over your head, struggling to pull it down for a few seconds.

you admired yourself briefly in the mirror.

it was a casual t-shirt. it reached down to the middle portion of your arms, though it was significantly less baggy than all of your other clothes. you liked to sleep in it during hot and stuffy summer nights, but rarely found yourself using it otherwise.

it’s not like you didn’t like these kinds of shirts.

but when given the option to look “stylish” or comfortable, who wouldn’t pick comfortable? that’s what was important to you above all. clothes that made you feel like you were constantly in bed were a godsend from the heavens.

“hey dipshit, i spent twenty minutes jumping stores for you but no one sold any (favourite drink) so i got you-“ atsumu halted in his steps, the grocery bags curled around his fists were suddenly forgotten and discarded as he caught sight of you through the doorframe.

you were clad in a pair of old white shorts and a black t-shirt, complimentary of the fact that everything else was currently in the laundry machine. atsumu could outline every single damn crevice and dip on you, and he burned that shit so deep into his retinas that he would still see it when his eyes were closed.

he felt his breath hitch, something deep inside him resonating, growing feral like hunger.

he still stood by what he said,

baggy clothes or not, you were beautiful.

but he wasn’t expecting this

“so you bought what?” you inquired, twisting your torso halfway to greet him as you finished brushing through some knots in your hair at the vanity.

“huh?”

“you said there wasn’t any (favourite drink) so you got what? did you fall and crack your head open on the way here? cause it looks like it”

you could feel your heart squeeze, body temperature increased twofold as icy hot waves wracked every inch of your skin. there was a cold sweat that rolled down the back of your knees.

“shut the hell up, i hate you” atsumu grumbled, forcing himself to turn away from you and stomp off to the kitchen with a pout.

“jesus christ give me strength i hate this woman, where the hell does she get off thinking she can get away with looking so good like that” atsumu mumbled incoherent curses underneath his breath, shakily unloading everything he bought out onto the counter and stuffing the groceries into cabinets and the fridge.

“‘samu, i hate you but dude i need twin telepathy, give me strength so i don’t deck this woman right here right now” he cursed, gritting his teeth. his self-control was about to fly out the window.

“you okay?” you popped your head through the door, leaning into the kitchen.

he could see the outline of your prominent collarbones, the way the shirt still fell a little bit and hung loosely off of your frame. he could see the start of your stomach.

god, it should’ve been illegal the way he wanted to grab your thighs. he wondered for a second what it would look like with his fingerprints etched into your skin there.

“want a few tissues and some lotion?” you snorted, nestling up beside him to help. you gazed at him, watching him keep his eyes narrowed on the packet of pistachios he was fumbling with.

you thought it was cute.

“listen- if you’re not ready yet then i’d suggest that you find something else to wear cause holy shit if you don’t get away from me right now i swear i will not restrain myself-“

“i’m ready” you hummed, giving him an innocent smile. you toyed with your hands behind your back, fiddling with them as butterflies swept your abdomen.

atsumu snorted, eyebrows creasing in confusion. he turned to face you, setting the pistachios down.

“alright i’m not saying this to boost my ego, but, what did you say?”

“i said i’m ready”

you watched his brain stir, gears ticking and turning like clockwork.

atsumu let out a low sigh.

“yeah, yeah. well, then.”

his right hand slammed against the wall, caging you in. he leaned into you, looming over you as his half-lidded eyes burned holes inside your soul. you felt the air tense and switch around him, carnal desires swirling behind his gaze. his chest was so close to yours, practically flush, save for the tiniest gap. you could literally feel his heart hammering.

he was so invasive, so close, yet so respectful. he still kept his distance, just n case you changed your mind.

“are you sure this is what you want?” his voice was hot and slick against the shell of your ear, voice husky and octaves deeper. you could feel the sexual tension dripping from him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against him.

“i’m sure, ‘tsumu.”

a loud chuckle ripped from the depths of his chest. it was so hearty, and fuck, it made you clench.

atsumu swooped you up all in one swift motion, hands hooking underneath your thighs as he shoved you against the counter. he sent everything clattering and thudding in the process.

“don’t say i didn’t warn you, doll.”

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skullaton · 1 year

Text

Chapter 2: You should head back

Rating: M

Summary:

TW: Childhood trauma, scopophobia, alcohol references AO3 link: here Wally logo by Clown

A low buzz of static hummed throughout your living room.

You were alone again.

It wasn’t new to be alone.

Your mom worked multiple shifts, and your teenage sister was often out late.

Your dad had been out of the picture for a long time.

You sat on the verdant shag rug as you leafed through the spines of old VHS tapes on your entertainment centre. Tempting titles such as Pokemon or Doraemon called for you to pick them, but there was one that you always meandered back to.

There was a worn, yellow plastic tape, the sticker long faded from years of use.

Welcome Home.

Your mom picked it out at a second-hand shoppe - probably to get you off her back while she shopped for other things.

It quickly became one of your favourite shows.

It felt like a nice little respite from the world. A home away from home.

You also loved the fact that the artist segment changes every time you watch it!

It must be a new feature for VCR players, because none of your other tapes did that!

You popped the VHS into the player, the gears winding the tape.

The rainbow show lit up the room, like a beacon of life in this dreary existence.

The opening title of the show rolled. You hummed to it as you got comfortable on the floor, your tiny legs kicking in the air as you lay on your stomach.

The segment started, the main character behind an easel peaking out, paintbrush in hand.

“Hello, neighbour!”

----

Your heavy eyelids blinked as consciousness pulled you out of your deep slumber. You sucked in a deep breath of air as you stretched your sore limbs.

What a day, yesterday.

You rolled to your side as the reality of waking up connected in your brain. You tiredly stared at the rows of storeroom shelves, internally cursing yourself.

Guess it was all real.

You fumbled out of your blanket cocoon and wobbled your way to the door. You were greeted with the same towering, multi-limbed creature from yesterday. There was something comforting about him today, though. He felt more realistic. Kind.

He was stocking his shelves dutifully before looking up to you. He held in a chuckle. “Good morning! You look like you slept well.”

You gave him a groggy ‘huh?’

He responded simply by pointing at your hair.

Your hand went up to touch the literal bird’s nest that sat on your scalp. You hurriedly ran your fingers through the locks, flattening out whatever imperfections. An embarrassed blush crossed your features.

He chuckled once again. “If you want, you can use the shower. I can find you a fresh pair of clothes.”

“You sell clothes?” Your sleepy voice cracked in surprise.

“More like I special order clothes for Julie. The only thing is that silly little girl always forgets to pick up her orders.”

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “Wouldn’t she be mad if you looked through her orders?”

He gave a dismissive wave of a hand as he moved his way to a few boxes behind the front counter. “If I told her that it was for you, she’d probably assume it was for ‘dress up party’ purposes. So I don’t think she’d mind.”

You tried not to think about the ethical and legal implications of going through your customer’s stuff. Arguing probably wouldn’t help you in this case.

He pulled out a pair of high waisted flare jeans and a muted rainbow top. He offered them with one set of hands, while the others went to seal the boxes back up.

Dang, multitasking to the extreme.

You gratefully accepted the clothes. “You sure this is okay…?”

He gave you a caring smile, dismissing your concern, “Go get washed up.”

You bowed your head in thanks, padding your way to the bathroom.

A shower will help you feel human again in this insane puppet world.

Turning on the faucet, hot steam clouded the tiny washroom. Dipping into the warm waters, you felt your woes and worries wash down the drain.

Your mind wandered to Howdy. He sure helped you a lot. His generosity knows no bounds. Maybe you should help him in some way? Maybe pay back your debt by cleaning up the bodega a bit?

Yeah, that sounds good. It must be hard being the only worker.

You stepped out of the shower, wrapping a spare towel around your body. You swiped a hand across the clouded mirror, giving a good look at yourself.

That husk of a human from last night looked more alive. Colour was back in your face, and the fine lines around your eyes seemed to have lightened.

Those retinol treatments you were doing probably helped a lot with your complexion.

Despite everything, you’re still you!

Tossing on the retro styled clothes, you embarked on the new day.

”What can I do to help?”

“Really, you don’t need to do anything.”

You released a stubborn sigh, arms folding across your chest. You stared at the bug man from across the counter. “I really want to help you, Howdy. I want to help pay off my debt.”

The salesman weighed the options. He gave a resigned sigh. “Alright, but you have to follow the price guides of the bodega!”

You quirked a brow. “Price guides?”

He gestured to the ‘100% off!’ sign on the window pane.

Your brows furrowed as you scoffed. “How does that even work?”

“Well, people pay in jokes, ideas, or observations!” He then pointed to an apple display adjacent to the front counter. A sign on it read ‘1 Apple for 1 Joke’.

There’s no way these silly Muppets live in capitalism-free town. “How does commerce even work, then? How do you pay for goods being imported to your shop?”

Howdy put a finger up to his lips as he smirked. “Trade secrets! Maybe you’ll find out some day, young Grasshopper!”

You released a defeated huff.

“Besides, there’s more to life then pointless currency. Sometimes the most valuable things are your friend’s company and wise words!”

They really did live in a commune. In a sense, you envied them.

The morning tolled on, and he instructed little things on how he ran the bodega. You helped by stocking some shelves and sweeping the floors. Before you knew it, it was midday.

The door chimed as a pair of customers sauntered in. Your breath hitched as you saw a 7 foot, bumbling blue dog plod through the doorway. You were tempted to hide behind a shelf,… that is, until your eyes landed on the shorter man walking behind him.

A smile stretched across your face, “Hello, Wally!”

The cardigan-clad puppet gave you an all-encompassing grin, “Hello, neighbour!”

“Oh, is this the kid you were talking about?” the dog rumbled in a deep baritone.

Your skin prickled at the term ‘kid.’ You were quite obviously not a kid.

Wally regarded the towering puppet with a nod. The giant mock Blue’s Clues character offered a wave, “Welcome to Home! The next Big City this side of the forest! I’m Barnaby, by the way.”

You assuaged the temporary anger and introduced yourself with a little wave. Howdy, who was behind the front counter, called out to the new patrons. “What can I get for you fellas?”

Barnaby put up two fingers, “Two hot dogs, please!”

“Two dogs wrapped in yellow and red bow ties, with all the fixin's, comin’ right up!” The caterpillar’s limbs went to work as he swiveled around to the hot dog machine. He loaded the dogs up with whipped cream, onions, ketchup, mustard, and a cherry.

Imagining the taste made you shiver.

He offered the food to the pair, while another set of hands punched in the order on the cash register. “And how will you be paying today?”

Barnaby gave a smug smile. “Why did the baby cookie cry?”

A pause.

“Its mother was a wafer so long.”

Howdy erupted in a boisterous laugh, one of his hands going down to slap his knee. Even you smirked at the atrocious dad joke. He rubbed a tear away from his eye as he regarded Wally. “And how about you?”

Wally gave his signature hum as he rolled his head to the side. “What do you call an insect who can’t get out of bed?”

You peered at him expectantly.

“A bedbug!”

Howdy offered a sympathetic chuckle, the joke not landing as hard as Barnaby’s. He punched the jokes on the register, the receipt screeching out as it was printed.

“You tried, fella,” Barnaby put a big paw on Wally’s shoulder.

“Can’t top the town jokester, after all,” the smaller puppet winked up at his friend and they both chuckled.

With hot dogs in hand, they started to make their way out. As Barnaby ducked out of of the tiny doorframe, Wally stood in place for a moment.

It felt like minutes pass until he finally regards you. “Would you like to come with us? We can introduce you to the rest of the neighbours.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you considered. You still felt guilty about not paying back all of what Howdy has done for you.

“Go meet everyone, Grasshopper,” the voice next to you pulled you out of your thoughts, the new nickname cooling any form of anxiety that you harnessed. “You can’t figure out how to get out of here without friends, right?”

You offered Howdy a kind smile. “Thanks.”

He shooed you off with your new friend, allowing you to step free into the rainbow world of Home.

Wally and you caught up to Barnaby, who was happily snacking on his treat.

The three of you trekked throughout the colour radiant town, making pit stops in front of each of the townsfolk’s homes.

The first person you all ran into was the mailman, Eddie. He curtly greeted himself, but just as quickly excused himself to get back to work.

You watched him run off into the distance before regarding your friends. “You reckon he’d know the roads out of here?”

Wally tilted his head as he observed you, still just casually holding his hot dog. “I think his route takes him further from the City.”

You gave a sad, thoughtful hum before Wally and Barnaby, the persuasive of friends, convinced you to meet with every one of the neighbours.

Poppy, who lived in a barn, was elated to see you again. She gave praises and crooned over how you were a ‘poor lost duckling.’ She vowed to cook for you if you ever needed food for the trip.

The next new person was a literal star who lived in a theatre. Sally was an eccentric puppet who was working on a set for an upcoming play. When you spoke to her about your story, you can tell she was taking internal notes. Please, Sally, don’t make your lost voyage into a Shakespearean tragedy.

Julie was as excited as ever to see you again. She complimented your outfit, stating that it looks ‘oddly familiar.’ Hm. You wonder why. She offered if you needed anymore clothes, she’s always willing to play dress up.

Frank was out in his lawn, taking notes on a butterfly perched on a flower. You all decided not to bother him. Butterfly watching seemed stressful, as is.

Now you all stood in front of Barnaby’s doghouse. He was hungrily staring at Wally’s hot dog, who, to your humour, was carrying the snack around like it was a show and tell specimen.

“You going to finish that, buddy?” Barnaby rumbled.

Wally shook his head and offered the undisturbed snack to his friend. The dog practically wolfed the food down in a blink.

The yellow puppet clapped his hands to get the remaining crumbs off his palms while Barnaby wiped the remnants on his own forearm.

“I think this is a wonderful day to sun bathe,” Barnaby started before dipping into his yard. “You guys comin’?”

Wally hummed at the offer before shaking his head politely, “I still need to show them Home.”

Barnaby gave a carefree shrug, “Suit yourself. Y’know where to find me.” With that, he sauntered into his littered yard and found a nice batch of grass to plop down on.

You regarded Wally with a quirked brow, “’Home’? Isn’t that just the town name?”

He tutted with a tiny smirk, “Silly, silly.” He didn’t explain, instead marched up the hill to the centre of town. A red house sat on the crest, it’s windows watching you.

Wait… watching?

You stumbled back as you stifled a yelp, the giant windows blinking at your reaction. You tried to scramble behind the short puppet man.

He simply shook his head with a chuckle. He gestures to the sentient house, “This is Home! This is where I live!”

Home made some thumping noises in greeting.

You sucked in a breath as you watched in horror. Your hand came up to grasp your forehead. “Okay, I finally accepted puppets. Houses now? I must be dead. There’s no way this is real.”

“If you’re dead,” Wally looked back at you with sleepy eyes, voice nonchalant, “then this must be heaven!”

You swallowed thickly, not sure how to process his words. You sucked in another big breath to calm your trembling body and forced a weak wave at Home.

Home waved its shutters in greeting.

Well… it’s not trying to eat you like Monster House. Maybe it really isn’t that bad?

Wally broke his barrier between you and Home, making you feel exposed and vulnerable. He maneuvered his way to an easel that sat just outside his home. He placidly began to pack up the art supplies that was left outside. A half painted picture of an apple lay on the canvas, probably abandoned this morning as he opted to hang with Barnaby.

The tension you held in your shoulders ease as you watch his easygoing pace.

There really is a charm about him that can ease your worries.

He briefly glanced back to catch you staring, a soft smile gracing his plush lips. “Penny for your thoughts?”

A blush shot to your face as you looked away, embarrassed. Your heart hammered as you focused on anything but him. You cleared your throat as a thought began tumbling out, “It’s nice here, but I’m wondering if… maybe you have any suggestions on how to leave?”

Wally noticeably tenses. He was quiet for a few beats, his lazy eyes never leaving yours. “I suppose I can paint you a map! But…”

He paused, his expression softening, tone becoming more sympathetic. “It must have been pretty serious for you to get lost like you did. Do you really want to go back? You wouldn’t be a burden here in Home! You’re always welcome.”

It felt like time stood still as his words washed over you.

There was a heaviness to it all, something akin to scratching at a mental scab. A truth that you didn’t want to uncover the band aid of.

You stood in silence as you mulled over the implications.

He watched you as your thoughts clouded your features. He observed the storm in your brain get cloudier before deciding to intervene. He extended a hand out to caress your arm, the felt touch anchoring you back to reality. His voice was low and pleasant, “Take your time. It’s a big decision, and there’s no need to rush. I’ll be here for you if you need it.”

The pressure from your jaw released, the tension that built up now toppled like building blocks.

He really was a good person.

“Thank you, Wally.”

He only offered a cute feline-like smile. **

It wasn’t long before the sky became a vibrant array of pinks and blues. The sun was settling just over the horizon as you and Wally decided to part from each other.

You made your way back to Howdy’s Place, giving the caterpillar a quiet greeting. He was starting to close up shop, and you decided to help him - much to his dismay.

With the two of you, the shop was closed and cleaned in record time.

He wiped the sweat off his brow, his face bearing a proud smile. “You really help a lot, young grasshopper.”

You shrugged. “It’s the least I can do.”

He shook his head with a chuckle. “You should eat some food. I think I have a spare salad in the back.”

You blinked at the thought of eating. Come to think of it, you didn’t feel hungry at all today.

How strange.

You decided to chock it up to stress from a new environment.

You thanked him for his generosity before wishing him a good night. You dipped into the backroom to locate the fresh greens. Chomping on the leaves, your mind wandered to the day.

The day felt… nice. Almost surreal.

You almost felt like you belonged.

But… you really should head home.

… Right … ?

#wally darling / reader #wally darling x reader #welcome home #welcome home fanfic #wally darling #wh wally darling #wally darling x you #tw childhood trauma #tw scopophobia #tw alcohol #writing

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povcherry · 3 years

Text

The Love Test | DNF

Dream and George take a test to see if they are in love with their best friend

The intense red text was prominent on his screen. Frustratingly, the one time Dream agrees to playing bedwars with George and Hypixel is down.

Dream lent back in his chair, hands behind his head staring up at the ceiling. His room was dark, the only light shone from his monitors. Patches wrapped around his legs. A deep sigh left George, as he lay his head on his desk in exasperation, an empty subway wrapper by his face, the time on his monitor read 2:17 am, yet he wasn't tired. After being on calls almost consecutively with Dream for essentially a year, he had managed to sync his sleep schedule up with him, already in Florida time prepared for when he goes to live with Dream and Sapnap.

George was disheartened. He was looking forward to playing with Dream. They were both normally either too tired or busy editing or working to go on minecraft for fun, and not just for a YouTube video. But now that they couldn't play bedwars, they were bored and unsure of what to do. They only called each other so that they could play minecraft, but that wasn't an option anymore.

"What do you want to do now then?" Dream asks, his voice far away from the mic, so much so that George nearly missed what he said. He hesitated, staring at Dreams discord profile picture light up.

"We could..." He stalled, drawing out his words. He wasn't the best at making decisions, he was much to indecisive. "Do you want to stream GeoGuessr?" He suggested, silently hoping Dream would say no. He didn't really want to do anything, only talk to Dream for hours on end.

"Not really. My brain is too slow for that level of concentration." That earned a giggle from George, putting a small smile on Dreams face. He loved that sound. "How about we go in my merch vc? Me and ni- Sapnap had fun last time just listening to music?"

George was hesitant. The last time he went in Dreams merch voice call was during the sleep over with Sapnap and Dream. That ended up in a disaster of butterflies and George having to turn his phone off for a couple of hours just to distract himself from the 'dreamnotfound' mayhem they had caused yet again on twitter. He felt giddy just thinking about it, Dream whispering into the mic, loudly cursing when George beat him at 8ball. It made him dizzy thinking about it... thinking about him.

George didn't hate it though- the attention from Dream and the fans. Despite all the jokes and innuendos that they both do to mess with their fans, George knew there was some truth to it all. A deeper meaning to being called an idiot. The endearing term that Dream loved to use oh so much. George felt fluttery, wanting to be called an idiot at this moment.

"George?" He had been silent for a while, reminiscing.

"What would we do on there?"

"Just talk. Or listen to music. Whatever you want to do, George".

Without thinking, George clicked onto the icon for Dreams server. "Do you need to add me to the call?" He asked, unsure about how the podcasts worked.

"Yeah, I need to quickly tell my mods to open it first."

Within minutes, they where in the call, hundreds of people pouring in immediately, spamming the chat with things like 'GEORGE?!' and blue and green hearts. George stifled a giggle, nerves taking over him. Despite doing streams for a living with tens of thousands of people watching him, there was something more intimate with calling Dream in a private server.

"Hello" Dream broke the silence, welcoming all the fans. He chuckled, looking at the chat, "Yes, George is here today. Hypixel was down and we had nothing to do"

"Hi" George was unsure what to say, scratching his neck in awkwardness. It wasn't this weird when he was streaming. At least then they had a plan and chat was relatively easy to read. He was doubtful that this call would end well, what with his ignorance to some innuendos and jokes involving DreamNotfound.

"We thought we would just pop on here. We're kind of bored." Dream stated, unable to see what people where spamming in the #podcast chat. "I can't see what you guys are saying, i'll probably just read my twitch chat."

Half an hour passed and George was getting hungry and bored, nothing eventful had really happened so far except for Dream explaining his setup and chat freaking out over his galaxy mouse pad.

"I want food but all that's in my fridge is butter... oh and the BTS sauces and... uhm expired milk" George complained, looking through his fridge while still on the call.

Dream chucked, "Why do you have expired milk in your fridge?"

"Not the point, I just want food"

"Well get some food then" Dream counteracted. George sighed and rolled his eyes, sitting back down in his chair. His stomach rumbled loudly, calling out to his hunger.

"I'm going to order McDonald's." And with that George muted his mic, found the McDonald's number and ordered his food, in the background, he could hear Dream.

"Should i do a quiz?... yeah? Link some in the podcast chat." There was a long silence. George, long ordered his food, stayed muted, listening to Dream talk to his chat. He found it so endearing the way Dream spoke to them, as though they where a family. His voice soft and gentle as he scrolled through the chat looking for a quiz.

"Ooh, this looks interesting... oh, 'Am I In Love With My Best Friend?'. Sounds... interesting" George stopped. Everything seemed to slow down. Eyes wide as he looked at the screen infront of him, Dreams discord icon lighting up as he chuckled nervously. He wasn't actually going to do it was he? The room was getting hot for George, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to delve into the idea of being in love with his best friend, let alone his best friend being in love with him.

He quickly unmuted, ready to call Dream out on what he was doing, but Dream beat him to it.

"George, i'm going to do the 'Am I In Love With My Best Friend?' quiz" He laughed, opening up the link and reading out the first question. "do you catch yourself looking at your best friend?"

George stalled. They had face timed multiple times in the past, Dream only letting George see his eyes upwards, but George always found it hard for him to look away. He got lost staring at his best friends eyes. George quickly messaged Dream asking for the link for the quiz, if Dream was going to do it, so would George.

"Dream, check dm's" He rushed.

"Huh, what, why?" Dream asked, busy trying to still his own heart beat. He had always known at the back of his mind that he had romantic feelings for George, whether that is because he was just touched starved and was desperate, or because he genuinely wanted more than just a friendship with George, suppressing his feelings as to not ruin anything between them.

"Just read it." George urged, getting apprehensive, unsure whether he should just delete the comment and over analyse everything Dream says.

But before he knew it, the link to the quiz had been sent to George, a small smiley face underneath it from Dream. George was about to reply with a '?' to the smile, but Dream spoke up again.

"I just put 'once in a while', i mean, it's not like im never looking at you but i don't do it like.. all the time." George clicked all the time. He couldn't get enough of Dreams warm amiable eyes. His eyes were a kind of green that speaks to the soul of nature, of fresh wands of grass and new buds, and his eyes were that bright colour, bold and beautiful.

"Right," he snickered, " next question, 'are they the first person you call when something happens?' uhm... yeah, i guess. But not always, i mean i would call my mom first." He laughed, ignoring the fact that George was silent. George always called Dream if something was wrong. He wasn't in contact with his parents, Sapnap wasn't the most mature when it came to serious things, yes he was a great friend and he would be there for George if he needed, but Dream came first. George put Dream before everyone, at time even before himself.

"George?" Dream disrupted his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"You're being so quiet, everyone is asking if you're asleep" George looked at chat, Sure enough, between all the green and blue hearts, there where people spamming Georges name and sleep.

"Oh uhm no, it is 3 am though. Kind of tired." He said, anxiously looking at the next question, mouse already hovering over 'it's nice if i can'. George didn't wake up thinking about Dream, not always anyway. Just if they had fallen asleep on call together, or if they were recording a video that day.

"You should sleep." His voice had softened. He too was looking at the same question. Thinking about George staying up just for him made him feel giddy, but he also didn't want George to be sleep deprived.

George held back a smile. "I'm good, we're in sync bb" he snickered, knowing that would get a rise out of the chat. He could practically hear Dream roll his eyes in exasperation.

"Oh come on" He laughed, his voice low and raspy as he started to read out the next question. He couldn't get through it without laughing, however. "'Do you get jealous if he or she has a boyfriend or girlfriend?' Oh come on! I mean..." He started, George's scoff cut him off. "What?" Dream laughed.

"Nothing" George giggled

"To be fair.. no, but... i mean, wouldn't anyone?"

"Not really." George counteracted.

"Well, no. But! But! But! It would be one of those things where it's like, awe, now he's gonna be spending time, like, doing that, instead of like, with us. Like with like, me and sap. So, I'll put maybe a little. Right? Maybe a little.?" Dream stuttered, trying to defend his reasoning while George just giggled at his flusteredness.

George had already clicked 'ugh its the worst' already. He remembered when Dream had told him Sapnap was moving in with him. Now, George knew his best friends. He knew there was nothing going on between Dream and Sapnap, but something about them living together tickled George the wrong way. He was pissed off, to say the least. George wasn't normally jealous, but when it came to Dream, he became a different person. He almost didn't want to share Dream with anyone else... George wanted Dream all to himself.

"Dream, no one is arguing with you..." George whispered endearingly, a small smile painted across his lips.

The next few questions were uneventful. Dream still defended his answers despite no body calling him out on them. The chat was a blur of left ear jokes and and blue and greens. George answered 'yes' on the majority of the questions.

" Do you have dreams about them? Im- Okay! That's unfair, like, oh my god. Okay, I'll put sometimes." Dream rushed, desperately wanting to move onto the next question. He didn't want to tell chat, and especially George, about the dreams he has. No body knew about the desperation Dream has when he dreams about George. The want and longing to touch George in many ways than one. The heartache Dream feels when he wakes up because he knows the happiness his feels in his dreams could never be recreated.

"What?" George once again giggled. He was starting to have fun now. Seeing Dream embarrassed made George feel slightly better about his answers, but at this rate he was afraid the quiz would tell him he's so hopelessly in love with his best friend that there was no hope for him. "What do you dream about me?"

"You- you've had- you're- you're an idiot, you've had dreams! You've had one hundred pe- you've told me about dreams you've had!" He stammered, struggling to get his words out correctly without revealing too much. He was starting to get hot, the air conditioning in his room seemed to do nothing, the 'GNF' jumper he was wearing was suffocating him. He was suddenly finding it hard to breath under the weird pressure of these questions he had no obligation answering.

"What type of dreams, hmm?" George teased. He had his head resting in his hands leaning on the desk, taking in everything Dream was saying. George, of course had clicked 'all the time' about dreaming about Dream. Dream was on his mind 24/7.

"Oh don't even start with me, i know you've had dreams about me. You told me you've like.. texted me in your dreams or something. You.. you definitely have, anyway..." The two argued for the next few questions, and it was all smooth sailing for both Dream and George, until it came to the big one. The one that caused George to almost throw up the McDonald's that he had eaten a half hour ago.

Dream went silent. George could almost hear Dreams heart beating through the mic. He knew why, too. He saw the question. George had been dreading this. He chose to stay silent, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

"Do you ever think about what it would be like to kiss your best friend?" Dream was silent for almost thirty seconds. He felt sick. The amount of times he had wondered what Georges lips felt like. Whether or not they were made for him. Perfectly molded to fit Dreams own. He dreamt about them constantly. The soft touch of lips. He was beyond salvageable. "Uhm, n-no. Of course not."

"Why did you take so long to answer?" George was apprehensive. He wondered whether Dream thought about kissing him as much as he did. George so desperately wanted to, he wanted to feel them on his own lips, wanted to know what Dream tasted like, how he smelt. He was forlorn.

"I'm just going to put, well... i'm going to put.. well there's no good answers. I'm just going to put 'yes but it would be like kissing my mom'". He lied, his mouse had been hovering over 'at least a few times a day', unsure whether to click it or not, but he knew the truth. He wanted to kiss George more than he ever wanted to do anything ever.

The rest of the quiz, George kept silent. If he opened his mouth, he would confess his love on the spot. He had finished all the questions, revealing a 32%. He was totally in love with his best friend. Desperately, pathetically and hopelessly in love. He needed help.

"Okay, last question" Georges ears pricked up at this, he was happy it was almost over. He needed to talk to Dream in private, even if it killed him. "Do you see them in your future?... of course. A lot of my future is your future. I don't want a future without you in it..." Dream whispered, muting his physical mic so that no one could hear his breath leave his body. That was the most intimate he had probably ever been with George in front of fans. He hoped he hadn't just messed anything up.

George still stayed silent. Dreams answer made him almost cry with happiness. He couldn't imagine a future without Dream.

Dream un-muted his mic to finish up the quiz, "It says, you are in love with a few things about your best friend, so it's likely that you could fall entirely in love with them if you... if things keep up the way they are right now." George was unsure of what to say. Chat was once again asking if he was asleep. Both boys took no notice. Almost silently, so silently George almost missed it. But he held his breath, staring at the monitor with fear. All colour had drained from his face. He was about to pass out.

"If.. if you're worried they don't feel the same way... you're going to have to find out how to shut your feelings off, you don't want to ruin what you have."... no one talked for a couple seconds... both of them waiting for the other to say something, until George plucked up the courage.

"I don't want to ruin anything, Dream."

George loved Dream, and Dream was sure he loved George.

#georgenotfound #dreamwastaken #dreamwasfound #gream #dreamnotfound #dnf brainrot #short story

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