#let me put him in a plastic container and forget about it in my fridge for 8 months that would fix me i think | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

izzy-b-hands · 1 year

Text

"We don't need a map," Alma rolls her eyes. "We take the bus to the museum, see the stuff there, then take the same one home!"

"But Mum-"

"Mum said I'm in charge while she takes Doug to hospital, and we were supposed to go to the museum today anyway. Don't you still want to go?"

Louis frowns, but nods and walks after her.

"Oh ew," Stede grimaces and holds out his phone to Ed.

"Whoa," Ed peers closer. "What is it?"

"Doug's finger."

"Oh god...well, Mary has said he's very enthusiastic-"

"Edward! He was chopping up vegetables."

Ed raises a brow. "Is that what the kids call it now?"

"We need to go; the kids are at their place alone right now," Stede says, waving down their waiter. "I'm sure they'll be fine, but-"

"So what was he chopping to fuck himself up that badly?"

"Does it really matter?!"

"Kinda."

"...cucumber."

"Ha! Knew it."

"Alma-"

"If you want to do big kid things, then you can't be a baby about it. Are you going to keep being a baby?"

She holds his hand and drags him through the crowd by the bus stop. "See? We're already at the bus!"

He doesn't want to be a baby, but also, their mum has never once said they were allowed to go on the bus alone, or to walk any further than down the block to see friends that lived there.

He holds her hand tighter.

"We brought fancy desser-" Ed stops. "Kids? "

"Maybe they're in the backyard," Stede says. "Probably horribly traumatised by seeing that bloodbath."

Ed motions to the two plastic cartoon character covered plates on the table. "Plates are cleaned."

"Well, let's get to looking anyway."

The yard is empty. Their rooms, empty. The entire house, empty.

"Take a breath," Ed sets the styrofoam container with the cheesecake bites into the fridge. "Stede."

But he's in a thousand yard staring contest with the empty plates. He'll own, now at least, that he's been far from the best father.

He's been trying to do better though, and you can't do better if your kids are lost or dead or kidnapped or-

"Okay," Ed gently pushes him towards the door. "We're gonna go walk around and see if they're running around playing with their friends. I bet they are! Then we'll come back and have cheesecake."

"I don't have enough money for snacks," Alma sighs. "We just ate lunch!"

"Mum says I'm growing and need-"

"Oh my god, she just says that so you'll eat your vegetables!"

Louis blinks. He'd never thought of that, and he certainly won't forget it now.

"Okay. I'm sorry I asked."

Alma wraps an arm around his shoulder. "Look, we're almost to the museum. Sometimes they have exhibits about foods from other places with samples, maybe there'll be one there today."

He leans into her and tries to watch the cars passing by on the other side of the street, hoping one might be Mum and Doug.

"Stede," Ed says, hands on his shoulders. "Look at me."

He's already been sick in the gutter, after the last house that had the same answer as the rest: no, they haven't seen the kids all day.

"It's fine. Kids get adventurous!"

"There's a huge main road close; they probably tried to cross it," Stede fumbles for his phone. "They put out alerts if they find hurt kids, right? Or missing kids?"

"Alma has her cheap phone for emergencies," Ed says. "Call her, and I bet they just went another block over or two. A little bit of rebellion since they got a surprise moment of freedom!"

"Hey Dad," Alma says into the chunky, slightly out of date flip phone. "We're just hanging out waiting for Mum and Doug to get back."

"I wanna hear!" Louis snags the phone from her hand and runs to an open bench in the museum lobby. "Dad? We need help-"

"No we don't!" Alma plucks the phone away. "He's scared for Doug, that's all."

"It's loud and I'm scared and we're at the mu-"

"Shut up!"

The phone snaps shut, and they both shut up.

"You hung up on him," Louis says. "You're gonna be in so much trouble!"

"I'll call him back and say it was an accident. Now, I think we should start with the dinosaurs..."

"You can go faster on this road," Stede snaps.

"Hey," Ed flashes him a look before turning back to the road. "I'm worried about them too, but that's not fucking necessary."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Look, you said it sounded busy, and Louis shouted out that it was loud. Middle of the day like this, there's a few spots that might be more likely than others."

"The mall isn't far."

"I don't think kids hang out at the mall much anymore. Not at their ages, that's for sure."

Stede frowns. "Right. The library is a bit far for them, but it wouldn't be that noisy."

"Well, we'll just drive around until we find them then."

"He's not answering," Alma says softly. "He almost always picks up."

"Maybe he figured we were okay after you hung up on him."

"Stop saying that!"

Louis shrugs. "You did. Do you think if giant sloths were still real you could ride them?"

"What?!"

"Like, instead of riding the bus-"

"Dad isn't answering, and this is what you're worried about?!"

He shrugs again, and sneaks another bit of popcorn from the box of the kid standing next to them.

She wanted to go to the museum, and they're at the museum, and he's trying to have fun even!

There's simply no pleasing a sister.

"Museum is the last place that might be that loud," Stede sighs. "There's no school today so I'm sure everyone is out there with their kids."

"That's not so bad," Ed signals to turn, and reroutes them towards the museum. "It's farther away than ideal, but if they're there, they did it safely."

"I'm...I have a lot of thoughts right now, about that. Not all of them that happy."

"Fair enough. They also really shouldn't have left like that without at least telling us-"

Stede chuckles. "I forget you and Izzy used to run rampant as kids."

"And we survived! We're fine!"

"You've both been in therapy on and off for issues with your families for the last two years."

Ed smirks. "And now we're fine! More fine than we were before!"

"Oh my god-"

"Got you to smile a little!"

"Louis, stay here!"

Alma looks ready to cry.

"I'm not going anywhere," he grabs her hand and pats it. "It's okay. Dad will answer again. Maybe someone else called him and he can't get off the phone yet."

She drops onto the marble and bench and sobs. "Louis, he's mad at me."

"You don't know that."

"Then why won't he answer?!"

He sits beside her and hugs her. "I don't know. When does the bus to go home leave?"

"I don't remember."

"Oh."

"Let's take a minute before we go in," Ed snags Stede's arm. "Deep breath. They're just kids. Kids fuck up and do stupid, absolutely terrifying shit. But they don't mean anything malicious by doing it."

"I know," Stede nods, but his eyes are scanning over the crowds milling in and out of the museum. "But they need to know that this was dangerous."

"And we can tell them that without flipping the fuck out."

"Your therapist is too damn good sometimes."

Ed smiles. "I know, right? It's almost irritating."

"It is."

"I'm gonna go find a security guard," Louis says. "Or an adult like the lady at the front desk. They'll get us home or call Mum."

"That's not better!"

Louis sighs and sits back down by Alma, patting her back again. "They're gonna be mad. We can't do anything about that now. But we got to see the dinosaurs, and I got popcorn, and you got to see your favourite dress in the old clothes part, right?"

She sniffles and nods.

"Then we had fun, like you said we would. And it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't got us here."

"Yeah."

"Want me to stay here?"

"Yeah."

"Like me except smaller!" Stede stresses to the increasingly befuddled security guard. "They didn't have an adult with them; aren't you supposed to be looking out for things like that?!"

"Sir-"

"He's worried; I'm sorry," Ed smiles and quickly but gently tugs Stede away. "Hey. Let's just look ourselves. They're probably still here, looking at stuff themselves."

"You're right," Stede nods. "Okay. Let's-"

He turns to lead the way, only to let out a grunt as Alma runs directly into him, head into his gut.

"I didn't mean to hang up on you!"

Ed kneels down for Louis. "Hey! Everything okay?"

"Kinda. Alma did a good job getting us here, but we couldn't remember when the bus would leave to take us back."

He scoops Louis up. "That's not bad for kids your age!"

Stede groans and lifts Alma up. "You're almost too big for this, you know?"

She wraps her arms tighter around his neck.

"Not yet she isn't, thankfully," Ed remarks, and leans behind Stede's shoulder to try and see her face. "Hey kid. You did okay."

"We should have stayed home," is the sobbed response.

"Probably, but now you know for next time," he continues. "Wait and ask one of us, or Mum or Doug instead before heading out on your own, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well then," Stede sighs. "Let's work on the story. To explain the tears, maybe you stubbed your toe outside?"

"Babe, we asked all the neighbours where they were," Ed murmurs. "Can't lie to Mary and Doug about this anyway, you know that."

"Right. We'll plan how to tell them about it instead, over those cheesecake things-"

Alma's head pops up slightly. "You brought us cheesecake?"

"Not here, but at the house," Stede continues. "Should we get you two home?"

"Yes please."

"And it's okay, by the way. My phone battery died on the way here, so you couldn't have called me back anyway, sweetheart."

They both snicker lovingly at the frustrated "Oh my god!" from her.

#text post #long post #i don't know where this idea came from but just. ed and stede trying hard to be good coparents with mary & doug 🥺🥺🥺#also Doug is fine don't worry #he's just enthusiastic with his fingers #in multiple ways

0 notes

okaywa · 4 years

Text

*Kiss Me Sweetly

Tendou x f!reader

Angst with a happy ending, excessive fluff, friends to lovers, smut, dry humping

4.4k words

The demon of Shiratorizawa had crimson hair and eyes to match. He was tall, composed of long limbs and sharp angles. His eyes were perpetually half-lidded and droopy with dark bags. He had a crooked smile made up of pointed teeth and a silver tongue that frequently got him in trouble with the school staff and students alike.

He wasn’t actually a demon, a nickname branded to him by cruel children in elementary school. He wasn’t a monster either, despite popular belief. Although he had learned to embraced his title as the Guess Monster, even learned to love the respect that came with it from his opponents. In the end, however, Tendou Satori was just tired. Tired of the people at this school, tired of the nicknames that stalked him though the halls, and tired of you.

You, who never stooped to your peers level with half-brained insults and nicknames. You, who had smiled and said hello every time you saw him since elementary. You, who encouraged him to pursue volleyball, the only thing he felt powerful doing. You, who sat through his seemingly endless chatter with an interested smile. You, you, you and your kind smiles, soft words, and gentle curves.

It wasn’t until high school that you started sitting with him at lunch. Eventually lunch transitioned into getting coffee every Monday after school. Then the coffee hangouts progressed to going to your house and reading the latest manga he was interested in every Friday.

Each moment with you was a breath held in anticipation for the other shoe to finally drop. When were you just going to get it all over with and stop acting like you cared about him? Enough of the pity, please. No more shared lunches. Stop giving him your notes when he fell asleep in class. He was exhausted for you.

Sometimes he let himself believe you. That you actually cared for him and enjoyed being around him. He convinced himself that your laughter was genuine when he teased you and made sardonic jokes about the world. He could go months relishing in your friendship before remembering it wasn’t real.

Being around him certainly didn’t benefit you. He had heard plenty of the rumors and he know you did as well.

I heard that he’s so controlling she’s too scared to actually leave him.

We aren’t even together, he thought viciously.

Well, I heard that she only puts up with him because she feels bad. Seriously, who actually wants to hang around that freak .

He wanted to scream that he knew. He knew you pitied him. He wanted you to leave but you never got the goddamn hint. You stuck by his side all through high school and now it was the last day and you were still here. Sitting next to him, sharing his earbuds. You could’ve walked home ages ago, but you were adamant about waiting at the train station until he got picked up.

“You can stop now,” he said, setting you free.

“Hm?” You looked up from your phone. “Oh, do you want to play your music?”

“No, you can leave,” he snapped. “No one is looking at you anymore; no one cares. You don’t have to be here with me.”

“Tendu-chan, I don’t understand,” your pretty lips were turned down in a frown.

“I don’t need you,” he lied. “You don’t have to be here to make me feel better. It’s over, we move on now and we forget about it.”

“What are you talking about?” Your voice was soft, confused.

“I don’t need your pity,” he said, finally getting the words off his chest after all these years. “I know you only stuck around because you felt bad for me. But I don’t need it anymore, high school is over. I don’t need you to hang out with me because you feel bad.”

His eyes were closed, and he relished in the peace of finally, finally spitting it out.

“Is that what you think?”

His eyes snapped open. You were angry? You should be happy. Happy you finally have an excuse to get away. A clear exit.

“Fuck you, Tendou,” you stood up, throwing his headphones at his chest. “That’s what you really think of me? That I just pity you? You think I’m so shallow that I hung around you to make myself feel better? Is that what you think?”

You stopped, sucking in a steadying breath while he stared up at you in shock. Yes, that’s exactly what he had thought.

“I-”

“No,” you cut him off swiftly. “You’ve said enough. I’m leaving. You can talk to me when you get your head out of your ass.”

Tendou watched you walk away until you disappeared around a corner. He had been wrong? But he almost always guessed right… right?

Had he really been so consumed by his self-loathing that he had misread the intentions of the one person who cared the most for him?

“Oh,” he let his head fall back against the bench and stared at the bright sky until his eyes watered.

Not many had witnessed it, but the demon of Shiratorizawa was indeed just a person. A person with emotions, as disguised as they may be. He hid behind this personality he’d crafted. The carefree, loud, perpetually cheerful demeanor that protected him from his peers and their wicked words. It had never protected him from you though. You saw through it as if it were glass, just a window to his misery.

“Oh,” he said again, standing up slowly. “I see now.”

He boarded the train and rested his forehead against the window, watching dark storm clouds creep over the city with the silence of a cat stalking its prey.

How fitting, for it to rain, he thought as the first drops splattered against the window.

—-

After three sharp knocks on your door, Tendou stepped back and held his peace offering close to his chest. He knew you were home because your rust bucket of a Toyota was parked in the driveway. His fingers tapped the plastic bag impatiently and it was nearly impossible to ignore the way his heart jumped when the door cracked open slowly.

“Ah, I see you’ve managed to pull your head free. Was it difficult?” You asked flatly, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed.

“Immensely, took Wakatoshi three bottles of lube,” he said earnestly.

You cracked a small smile, eyes flitting to the plastic bag in his arms. You raised an eyebrow as a silent question.

“Can I come in?” He asked. “It’s awfully cold out here, you don’t want me to catch a cold now, eh Y/n-chan?”

“Maybe I do,” you said, stepping aside to let him in.

“How cruel of you!” Tendou gasped, pressing a hand to his chest in feigned offense.

He stepped into your entrance way and you were quickly reminded just how tall he was. His lankiness only made him look taller as he loomed over you, eyebrows drawn together in determination. You stared back, suddenly nervous in the presence of your friend.

“I’m sorry for misjudging you,” he said, intense red eyes still locked on yours. “It was wrong and unfair of me to make such harsh assumptions.”

You weren’t used to him being this serious. He was always intense but the two combined were overwhelming.

“Let’s sit down and eat whatever you’ve brought,” you said, stepping around him to walk to the kitchen. “Then we can talk, yeah?”

He followed so close he accidentally kicked your heels a few times and you could still feel the heat of his gaze on the back of your neck. He set the bag on the table and unpacked the to-go containers.

“It’s from that place you really like,” he said. “By the school.”

“Oh, thank you, Tendou.” You accepted the chopsticks he held out.

Tendou gasped dramatically. “Such formalities, Y/n-chan!”

“Tendu-chan, then,” you corrected yourself.

“Much better,” he said praisingly.

He sat down across from you, eating only a few pieces of chicken before setting his utensils aside. He didn’t say anything, even as you ate your fill. It was clear he was antsy, fingers tapping a staccato beat against the table.

When you finally slid your plate to the side he scooted forward, resting his face in his palms expectantly.

“I forgive you,” you said simply.

Tendou’s signature manic grin took over his entire face and his long fingers tapped a rapid beat on the table in his excitement. Oh, how he had missed you during the two weeks he spent giving you space. He had never realized how much he enjoyed your presence until it abruptly disappeared. Tendou’d also had a few other revelations during the separation.

He said your name softly, so at odds with his typically loud demeanor. He was his most authentic self in your presence, he had come to realize. You looked up from packing up the remaining food and tilted your head.

“We are still friends, right?” He asked with a tinge of nervousness.

“Were we ever?” You countered, not angrily.

“Yes,” Tendou answered quickly, reaching out to grab your hand. “Of course, it was my mistake to ever think otherwise.”

You looked down at his hand on yours and ran a finger over the wrappings he kept on his two fingers. He watched you keenly, fingers twitching at your delicate touch.

“My, my,” he said with a sly grin. “What is little Y/n thinking about?”

You shot him a bland look, dropping his hand pointedly. “You’re disgusting.”

Just like that any tension between the two of you vanished with his boisterous laugh. He wiggled his wrapped fingers in your face enticingly until you smacked them away.

“I brought the latest chapter Shonen Jump,” he said animatedly, reaching into his bag. “I thought we could read it together.”

It was a Friday, after all.

“Sure, let me put this food up,” you said.

Tendou grinned eagerly, bouncing to his feet while you brought the food to the fridge; already talking a mile a minute about a different manga he had just finished. You couldn’t stop the smile that worked its way onto your face, you loved his aimless rambling. Where you more reserved, Tendou was outgoing and could fill any gaps in the conversation you left behind. It worked well for the two of you.

While watching Tendou chatter away you wondered if you had been too harsh at the train station. Clearly there was an underlying insecurity that convinced him you didn’t care about him. Was it his history of bullying? Before you had really gotten to know Tendou, it was hard to imagine him as anything but carefree and untouchable. You knew he would tell you eventually. Perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow. Over the past few years you had found the best way to get Tendou to open up was to say nothing at all, his rambling always ended up on touchy topics anyways.

Tendou held out an earbud for you once you sat down on the couch beside him. You placed it in your ear and smiled when you recognized the playlist the two of you had put together. The only time Tendou could stay quiet longer than five minutes was when he was reading. You settled into the familiar routine, sitting close to him while he angled the pages towards you so you could both read. Tendou was such a fast reader you were forced to learn to speed read as well in order to keep up with him. Now, you were perfectly synchronized.

Today, however, he couldn’t stop glancing over at you. Ugh, he suddenly so acutely aware of everything you did. Every time you shifted to see a panel or readjusted the earbud he felt his heart pickup and he was too aware of every movement he made. His limbs felt too long and awkward, his face felt too warm, and oh my god did he brush his teeth this morning?

Tendou swallowed nervously, for once relieved for the chapter to finally end so he could put some space between your bodies. He stood up abruptly, wincing when the earbud was ripped out of his ear.

“Ow,” you held your ear. “Is something wrong, Tendu-chan?”

“Of course not, dearest Y/N,” he put on his widest grin, bowing down and extending his hand. Fuck, your nickname for him was not helping his nerves. “I was just wondering if you would like to accompany me to the bathroom.”

“Ew, what is wrong with you?” You smacked his hand away.

“Well, you did ask,” he chirped cheerfully before prancing down the hall.

You sighed, replacing the earbud while settling into a more comfortable position. After several minutes you realized Tendou had yet to return. Frowning, you stood up and went to the bathroom to find the door still closed.

“Tendu-chan?” You knocked softly. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, Y/N,” Tendou popped his head out from your bedroom. “I was looking at your photo wall.”

You raised your eyebrows, following him inside. “Yeah? I have quite a few.”

It had been a hobby of yours to have at least three pictures of each of yours friends on your wall since elementary school. Since you started hanging out with Tendou at the beginning of high school, his section had amassed a great deal of photos.

“I forget you’ve never been in here,” you smiled, watching Tendou closely.

You had never seen such an open expression on his face before. His eyes flicked over the photos of him taped to your wall quickly, as if he couldn’t decide which to focus on.

“I didn’t realize,” he said softly.

“Hm?”

He tilted his head back, sliding his eyes to look at you. “I didn’t realize I still had a safe place, a paradise.”

“You’ll always be welcome here, Satori,” you reached out and squeezed his bicep. “I promise.”

“I feel so blind, Y/N,” he closed his eyes, head still tipped back as he took in a slow, study breath. “I thought I had lost everything when volleyball ended. My friends, my passion…”

Crimson eyes locked on your own, the intensity of them so startling you sucked in a sharp breath.

“But I still have you,” Tendou said, slowly turning his body to face yours. “Right?”

“Of course,” you answered.

“Good,” he nodded. “Good.”

His head turned back towards your wall of photos, fingers reaching out to snag at the bottom of one. You looked closer and saw it was a picture of the two of you at one of his games. You had jumped onto his back to hug him and your friend had barely managed to get the shot. The blurry grins on your faces were bright and excited.

“Can I?” He asked, tugging lightly on the corner.

“Take it, I can print a new one.” You said.

He peeled it off carefully and flashed a grin at you.

“Thank you,” he reached out, placing his hand on the top of your head, ruffling your hair messily.

You knocked his hand away and brushed your hair back into place with a huff. Tendou laughed loudly, sprawling backwards onto your bed with a thump. He looked at the picture once more before sliding it into his pocket. He folded his hands behind his head and looked up at you with his signature sleepy smirk.

“Make yourself comfortable, I guess,” you said.

“Aw, you’re so considerate,” Tendou crooned, stretching his arms out until his shirt road up to reveal his toned stomach.

You glanced down at the exposed skin and blushed, looking away quickly. Tendou noticed, of course, and couldn’t stop the mischievous smirk on his face as he reached out and grabbed your hand.

“Tendou-“

“Oh, hush,” he chastised lightly. “I’m just getting you to sit. This is your bed, after all.”

You sat down on the edge, watching as he pulled your hand to his chest. He examined your fingers faintly before weaving his fingers with yours. When your fingers spasmed nervously he gripped them tighter.

“I had a lot of time to think,” he sighed, eyes still fixated on your joined hands, before elaborating. “While we were apart.”

You stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue with bated breath.

“I like you, Y/N,” his eyes seemed to bore straight into your soul.

“Tendu-chan-“ You started to pull your fingers away.

One second you were sitting at the edge of the bed and the next you were pinned beneath Tendou’s body. His breath tickled your lips and his hands kept your arms above your head by the wrists.

“Please, let me say this,” he pleaded, eyes switching between yours and your lips.

“You made high school bearable for me,” he said, pushing up until he was knelt between your legs instead of having you pinned. His hands rested on either side of your ribs. “I didn’t appreciate you enough at the time but-“

His fingers clenched in the sheets. “I do now, I appreciate you so much. Everyone else thought I was a monster, demon, whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore but when it did you were the only one who made it all easier. Does that make sense?”

“What about Ushijima? Your teammates?”

Tendou chuckled, letting his head droop between his shoulders. “Of course them, silly Y/N. They didn’t really have a choice, hm? I was on the team, you don’t really get to pick who’s there. You went out of your way to befriend me, to make sure I was okay before you even knew me.”

You looked up at him, ignoring his little sniffle and the way he rubbed his nose against his sleeve subtly. You sat up slowly while Tendou watched you closely with his head tilted.

“You’re my best friend, you know that right?” You asked softly.

He nodded.

“You will always be welcome in my home and I promise I will always want you around. You’re right, whatever those people used to say about you doesn’t matter. They were needlessly cruel and I wish I could’ve stopped them from hurting you,” you reached up, cupping his cheek gently. “You’re important, Tendu-chan. You’re caring, funny, and genuine. I love hearing about your favorite anime and your coolest blocks. I really do.”

“Ohhh, is little Y/N crying for me?” He cooed, using his sleeve to wipe away the tears gathering on your lashes. “Sweet thing.”

“I’m serious,” you said, letting him wipe your cheeks.

“I know,” he squinted at you. “Will you let me try something?”

From the way his crimson eyes kept flickering down to your lips, you could easily guess what he wanted to try. You nodded mutely, breath catching excitedly as his face drew closer.

The first touch of his lips felt like a static shock. Your eyes fluttered close as he pushed a little closer, experimentally moving his lips against yours. He let out a low groan into your mouth, pushing forward until you were laying down again. The hands that had been by your sides now moved to tangle in your hair and cup your face while his hips settled comfortably between your thighs.

The first brush of his tongue across your bottom lip sent fire licking up your spine which eventually settled as a fluttering warmth in your stomach. Your hands came up to grab his arms, nails leaving shallow crescents on the pale skin of his biceps through his shirt. Parting with a nip to your bottom lip, Tendou licked his lips as he looked down at you.

The sight of your flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips sent a thrill of exhilaration through his chest.

“Well?” He asked, a cocky grin smeared across his lips.

It was like you were seeing Tendou in a brand new light. Before he was just your friend. You always knew he was good-looking but now, you were supremely aware of his shapely lips, cut jaw, and broad shoulders. His hips between yours was as intoxicating as the elated look on his face.

“Stop looking so smug,” you huffed, pulling him down to your lips again.

Laughing softly, Tendou happily obliged you in another sensuous kiss that left you dizzy and breathless. He swallowed your gasp when he experimentally rolled his hips into yours.

He pulled back, eyes lidded with a dazed smile, and tilted his head. “Is that okay?”

You nodded eagerly, leaning up to capture him in another kiss. With a sly smirk he pulled out of your reach, head tilted expectantly.

“Yes, Tendou, now please get back to it,” you snapped, secretly appreciative of his need for clear consent.

“There we go,” he murmured, stooping back down with a thorough roll of his hips.

A groan was shared between both of your open mouths as his hips fell into a steady rhythm, slowly undulating against you. Sighing out his name, you let your head fall back while Tendou trailed kisses across your jaw and down to your throat.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so perfect,” he murmured breathlessly, leaving wet, open-mouth kisses down the column of your throat. “Feel so good, hah-“

His clothed erection lined up perfectly with your core, sending searing electricity flickering through your stomach. Your hands went from gripping his arms to tangling in his hair, tugging lightly at the crimson strands.

“Haah-ah,” you moaned at a particularly accurate thrust that had his entire length dragging along your clit. “Satori, please.”

“Oh, fuck,” Tendou sighed into your ear, pushing aside your hair so he could hide his face in the warmth of your neck. “You’re so hot, gonna make me cum in my pants. Keep making those pretty noises for me, sweet thing.”

You nodded along eagerly, pulling his head away from your neck so your could attach your lips again. Steady thrusts began to lose their rhythm as both of you got closer to completion. Tendou let out a throaty groan, wrapping his lean arms around you tightly so he could rub his hard-on against your core with more force.

“Satori, ah!” You cried out at the stimulation.

He clashed his mouth against yours messily, teeth clicking while he gasped against your lips.

“M’ close,” he clenched his eyes shut.

“Me too, me too,” you whined, hips writhing up against his desperately. “Satori!” Tendou practically growled at that, mouth claiming yours assertively. You shouted his name again while your orgasm wracked through your body, leaving you sensitive and tingly as Tendou chased his own release. He came with a low moan into your mouth, hips rolling gently through the aftershocks.

When he finally slowed to a stop he went completely slack on top you. Tendou mouthed gently at your neck, fingers petting your hair as you both caught your breath. You released his hair and unclenched your stiff fingers a few times before wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

Curious hands slowly pushed beneath your shirt, tenderly exploring your body while Tendou continued to leave lazy, open-mouthed kisses on your neck. His handsiness didn’t bother you since you were also busy tracing the muscles of his back.

You whined when he landed another quick kiss before pushing off of you.

“I gotta clean up,” he said, darting down to kiss you again.

That reminded you of the uncomfortable dampness in your own pants so you got up as well. You found a pair of sweatpants that he could fit into from your brother and set them by the bathroom door for him. By the time you came back from changing he was already lounging in your bed again, your brother’s sweatpants an inch or two too short above his ankles.

Tendou’s expression brightened when you walked in, his eyes wide to match his grin as you climbed in to lay next to him. He was quick to wrap his arms around you again.

“Well?” He asked.

“Hmm?” You responded, face pressed against his shoulder.

“What are we now?” He leaned back so he could see your face.

You stretched languidly, tossing a leg over his hips and an arm over his chest before responding.

“What do you want this to be?”

“I want you to be mine,” he answered honestly.

“Then I’m yours,” you said simply, kissing the hinge of his jaw.

“My girlfriend,” he said adoringly, twisting to his side so you were facing each other.

You laughed softly, letting him cup your cheeks so he could pull you into an unhurried kiss. His tongue pressed past your lips to sweep along your teeth and slide hotly against yours.

“I’m pretty great at apologies, huh?” He boasted.

“Oh, shut up,” you groaned, pushing him away by his forehead.

Tendou let you shove his face away with a quiet giggle before brushing your hand away so he could attack your neck with more kisses.

“You better not be leaving marks,” you threatened halfheartedly, too caught up in the addicting sensation of his lips on your body to be serious.

Tendou eyed a particularly red spot, pressing a light kiss to it. “Of course not, baby.”

“That didn’t sound too convincing.”

“Well… it might fade,” Tendou circled the spot with his finger. “I kinda like it.”

“Satori!”

“Whaaat?” He crooned. “It lets everyone know you’re mine.”

“Ugh, you creep,” you murmured, accepting a soft kiss.

Tendou giggled cheerfully, squeezing you closer to him affectionately. He left a flurry of kisses across your cheeks and nose, sighing happily.

“I love this,” his hands roved over your body. “Getting to touch and kiss you as much as I want.”

“Mm, me too.”

Tendou’s lean body was beautiful, so was his blush when you informed him of this. He groaned and hid his face in the crook your neck.

“I’m serious!” You insisted, pulling his face from your neck so you could look at him.

“I know you are, thank you,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“Aww, are you embarrassed?”

Tendou scoffed. “Tch, of course not. I’m a catch, a total babe.”

Laughing, you let him bite playfully at the hinge of your jaw for a moment before shoving him away so he couldn’t leave another mark. Tendou settled down and was happy to let you brush your fingers through his hair until it lost it’s shape and started to fall over his forehead.

“Mmm, sleepy,” he sighed, practically purring as you massaged his scalp.

“Go to sleep then.”

He hummed, twisting his body until he was on his stomach with half of his body draped over yours. You smiled warmly, of course Tendou was a clingy sleeper.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu writing #tendou satori #tendou x reader #haikyuu smut #tendou smut #tendou x you #friends to lovers #haikyuu angst #tendou headcanon #tendou fluff #tendou imagine #Shiratorizawa #happy ending #masterlist #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

6K notes · View notes

ghostly-cabbage · 3 years

Text

Party In The Graveyard (Shiptember 2021 : Drunk)

It’s a day late but heres the Danny x Wes fic I wrote for @ghostgothgeek ‘s Ship Event!! Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Language, Underage Drinking, Mild Suggestive Themes Additional Tags: Post-Reveal, Aged Up Characters, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Getting Together

Summary: So, here’s the thing; Wes never wanted to have a fucking house party, okay? This was all stupid Kyle’s stupid idea. Kyle isn’t even in highschool anymore. He graduated last year. But he invited his whole college freshmen class, and just about everyone from the senior Casper class. And it's just getting better and better. Why? Because about half an hour ago, Danny Fucking Fenton walked in.

Or a fic in which Wes sees Danny getting shitfaced and says, "Is anyone else gonna take care of him, or?" and then doesn't wait for an answer.

Words: 6,233

Ao3

“I take back all my poor words. Talk is cheap, but my mind is rich When I close my eyes You grab my wrist, And pull me in to your cold dead lips”

So, here’s the thing; Wes never wanted to have a fucking house party, okay?

This was all stupid Kyle’s stupid idea.

Kyle isn’t even in highschool anymore. He graduated last year. But he invited his whole college freshmen class, and just about everyone from the senior Casper class.

And it's just getting better and better.

Why?

Because about half an hour ago, Danny Fucking Fenton walked in.

He walked in like he owned the goddamn place and the reaction went through everyone like a Whoop—like some kind of synchronized celebration of a miracle.

What, just ‘cause everyone knows he’s Phantom now?

Give him a fuckin’ break.

Currently, Wes is standing adjacent to the fridge, nursing a god-awful drink Kyle shoved into his hands before disappearing back into the throng.

Lighten up, bro, he’d said.

Yeah.

Sure.

The music pounds through the house—a heart beat—a fucking jack-hammer.

People talk and yell and spill their drinks on just about every surface that can stain.

A cheer goes up from the dining room and he rolls his eyes.

He slams his drink and focuses on the outdated calendar on the side of the fridge to keep from shuddering. It makes his mouth water, burns the whole way down and Jesus, seriously, what the fuck did Kyle put in this?

He throws his cup at the overflowing trash can.

His cheeks feel warm, but not even a buzz touches the wound up feeling in his chest.

He passes through the dining room, stops to watch Danny and Dash shotgunning sixteen ounce Mike’s Harder cans. From the looks of the table, they've already gone a few rounds.

Danny finishes five whole seconds before Dash. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and crushes his can.

“Slowing down already, Baxter?” he says, a smug grin plastered across his face. His shoulders are slumped and he talks just a bit too loud.

Dash finishes his and tosses it over his shoulder, which—cool. Fucking nice, what, does he think they have a fucking maid?

“In your dreams, Fenton. We're just getting warmed up. No way I'm getting out-drank by a twig like you, half-ghost or not.”

“Guess we’ll see.” Danny shrugs. He talks like he’s one of those people, has always been one of those people.

Wes rolls his eyes and is just about to slip out of the room when—

“Ohhh shit! If it isn’t the one and only Wesley Weston!”

Fucking hell.

He turns and levels as unimpressed of a look as he can manage at Danny.

“Imagine that. It’s almost like I fucking live here.”

Danny swipes up a plastic cup and then proceeds to walk through the table towards him. People act like they’re finding out all over again.

“Oh come on, Wes. You’re not still mad are you?” He comes up to him and slouches against the archway’s frame.

Wes scrapes his tongue along his teeth. “Mad? What could I possibly be mad about?”

Danny looks at him like a puzzle.

When he talks his voice is quiet, hard to hear over the music. “I dunno, the fact that you knew all along but no one ever listened? They thought you were crazy and you weren’t but no one's even said sorry?” His lips quirk up at the corner and Wes can smell the artificial black cherry dancing on the top of the alcohol in his breath.

He wrinkles his nose and it has nothing to do with the smell.

“I was being facetious, prick.”

Danny smiles bigger, and his eyes glitter, something doe-eyed.

“Right. So you are still mad?”

He pushes air through his teeth.

“Not like it matters,” he says, looking away from Danny, drifting over the room. “Where’s your chaperones? Weird to see you anywhere alone.”

Danny just stares at him for a few seconds before understanding sparks.

“Ah. Sam’s got a family thing. Tuck took a closing shift.” He waves a hand and his head lolls against the wall with a thunk. He lifts the cup to his lips and takes a swig.

Everything about him looks heavy. It’s weird for Danny.

“Have you tried the jungle juice your brother made?” he says. “It sucks. You’ve gotta try it.”

Wes lifts a brow and crosses his arms over his chest.

“How many’ve you had?”

Danny looks down into his cup, swirls its contents. It’s silent for several seconds too long.

“I’m not really sure, honestly. Didn’t know I was supposed to keep count.”

Wes slides a hand down his face.

Jesus Christ.

“Listen, maybe you should slow down—”

“Yo! Fenton! Stop flirting with Wes and fucking get over here, we’re not done.” Dash calls across the room and—

Flirting?!

They weren’t fucking flirting.

What the fuck.

Wes’s face heats up far beyond the liquor in his veins.

Danny looks up and flashes Dash a thumbs up. And then Danny is even closer—grabbing his arm. The chill of his hand goes right through to his stomach.

“Hey,” he breathes, “come watch me outdrink Dash.”

“Why would I wanna do that?” He ignores the way his breath flutters in his lungs, the way he feels light all the way to his toes.

Danny smiles like what he’s about to say is a secret—like it’s just for him, and all of a sudden Wes wants to be as far from Danny as humanly possible.

“Isn’t watching Dash lose at something for once reason enough?”

Wes forces himself to keep breathing and he swallows.

“Fine,” is all he can force out and then Danny is dragging him towards the table. He ignores all the people looking at them.

The fragmented group of A-listers cheer again and Dash slams a bottle of Fireball onto the table, making people's drinks jump and slosh.

“Let’s kick it up a notch, shall we?” he says, grin just shy of evil.

“Where’d you get that?” Wes asks.

Dash cocks a brow. “Paulina found it? Duh.”

God, Kyle really wasn’t joking about getting people fucked up.

Wes is not going to clean up anyone’s puke this time. This shit is all on Kyle.

“Dude, is it even cold?” Danny asks.

“No, it wasn’t in the freezer long enough,” Paulina says. She’s drinking from a champagne flute for some fucking reason. He didn’t even know they had those.

“Gimme that,” Danny says, swiping it from Dash. “No way in hell I’m drinking warm whiskey.”

His eyes glow blue, and when he breathes out its a thin vapor. Frost creeps over the glass and Wes can’t help but shiver.

“Dude, fucking wicked. I’m still not over this,” Dash breathes, clapping his hands together.

How could Wes forget that Dash is Phantom’s number one fanboy after all?

But Danny isn’t looking at Dash—he’s looking at him.

Only it’s different this time. Because before it was always a taunt, blatantly rubbing it in Wes’ face when he used his powers and no one else noticed.

But the way Danny is looking at him now… like he’s waiting for something, thinking about something.

Danny hands back the Fireball and his eyes slip away from Wes and he feels like a fish wrenched from water.

What the hell was that?

“Fuck yeah, Fenton.” Dash unscrews the whiskey, flicks the cap off the mouth with a finger, sending it flying. He pours directly into their cups, the liquid glugging through the frosted neck of the bottle.

“Two shots of vodka,” someone says and everyone laughs.

“No chasers?” Danny asks, eyeing his cup.

Dash puts down the Fireball. “What’s the matter, you scared of the burn?”

“Not a chance,” he says, and holds out his cup to Dash. They cheers each other and then they’re throwing it back.

It sinks in his stomach like a rock. There’s no way this ends well.

It’s on the sixth round of Fireball that Dash starts to look green. He sets down his cup and leans on the table. He stares at the clear storage container of jungle juice and Kwan comes up beside him, pats his arm.

“Dude, maybe you should call it.”

“I’m fine, ‘s fine…” His words slur together. He tries to stand up straight and Kwan and Paulina both have to keep him up right.

Danny laughs. “Not lookin’ great, Baxter,” he says, his own words falling sluggishly from his mouth. Danny goes to lift his cup to his lips again and Wes puts his hand over it.

“Nope. You two are done.”

“Come on, Wes. Don’t be a buzzkill. I’m good!” Danny says. “Dash is the one that lost!” He flings his hand towards Dash and knocks the Fireball over, spilling it all over the table.

The group all crows at once, a choir of “oh shit” “nice one” and “duuuude noooo”’s. A few people rush to grab their phones from harm's way.

Danny blinks at the table. “Oops,” he says.

A smile splits his face and he starts chuckling. It builds from him, a laugh, something outside of him—beyond him.

He laughs until he’s doubled over, holding onto Wes to keep himself stable.

“Yeah, that’s it. You’ve had more than enough.” He grabs Danny’s cup from him before he can spill that too and drinks it himself. The cinnamon burns through his sinuses and he shudders. Ugh.

Danny straightens and sways just a bit, stumbling into him—their faces inches apart.

“Hey, that was mine,” he says, voice twisted in a pout. “Not cool.” His breath is cold, thick with the smell of whiskey.

Wes feels frozen, feels like he can’t breathe.

His heart pounds in his chest and he prays Danny isn’t so close he can feel it.

Around them the choir starts again, a chorus of suggestive “ooo”’s. He can feel their eyes on him and it makes his skin crawl.

Fucking dammit, this is all Fenton’s fault.

He pushes Danny away from him. Not fast or rough, just to arms length. He coughs.

“Star, you should go to the kitchen and get them both some water,” he says.

She gives him an annoyed look.

“I don’t see you doing anything else,” he snaps.

“I’m drunk too, you know,” she says, but gets up and leaves towards the kitchen.

Paulina and Kwan coax Dash into a chair, and he puts his head down on the table, groaning. A few others are sopping up the Fireball with paper towels.

Danny sags in his grip, goofy smile still plastered all over his face.

“I’ve never been drunk before, this is awesome,” he says.

Wes rolls his eyes, and maneuvers Danny into a chair. His head lolls back and he stares at the ceiling for a second before perking back up and trying to go for someone else's cup.

“Dude, I’m serious.” Wes moves the cup out of his reach. “Quit while you’re ahead.”

Danny groans, sinking down in his chair like he’s boneless.

“Come on, Wes,” he says. “You think I don’t know my own limits?”

“You just said this is your first time being drunk.”

Danny blows a raspberry.

Star walks back into the room and hands Wes a glass of water and then slides one across the table at Dash.

“Here. Wanna drink? Drink this.”

“Ugh, fine,” he says.

He’s a few swigs into it when he stops.

“God, it’s hot in here. Is anyone else hot?” And before anyone can answer his eyes glow that bright blue and a chill works through the air, plummets the temperature.

“Danny—” Goosebumps rise over Wes’ skin and his breath fogs from his mouth.

At varying levels of exasperation, the people around cry out.

“Dude, cut that out,” he says, smacking Danny’s arm.

“Ow, why are you hitting me?”

“Because you’re being a pain in the ass.”

Danny looks at him, blinks heavy eyelids. He smiles.

“What.”

“Nothing, you just… You’re cute when you’re all annoyed sometimes.”

The ground feels like it opens up underneath him.

His thoughts screech to a stop. It smells like burnt rubber, like cinnamon and black cherry.

It’s just the alcohol. No fucking way Danny of all people would say that to him.

“You really are drunk,” he says, but his voice sounds off kilter.

Across the house the last song fades out and Usher’s Yeah comes on. People scream and cheer.

“Holy shit, I love this song,” Danny says and stands up. He sways and catches himself on the edge of the table, starts laughing again. “Whew, that was close. The spinning is normal, right?”

Fucking Christ, how did he end up on babysitting duty again? He rubs his temples.

Is he really about to do this?

“You should lay down.” He heaves a sigh. “Come on.”

“Jeez, Wes, that's pretty forward,” Danny says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Heat flashes through him.

“Would you just shut up,” he hisses. “And stop making it cold. Jesus.”

Danny snorts and when he moves from the table he wobbles. Wes grabs him before he topples and slings Danny’s arm over his shoulder to keep him up.

Danny leans into him, almost unbalances them.

“You got a problem with the cold, Wes?” he says, this time his cold breath is against the side of his neck. It sends chills down his spine.

“I don’t have to help you, you know,” he says, voice thick. “You can get alcohol poisoning for all I care.”

“You’re a bad liar, Wes.”

Wes yanks Danny along beside him and out of the dining room.

“Shut up, Danny. You’re drunk.”

He hauls Danny past the living room and the knot of people dancing and singing. A few call out to them, ask them to come have fun. He steers them away before Danny can pull away and join them.

“But I wanna have fun, Wes,” he whines.

“Dude, you can’t even stand without my help right now, you really wanna try dancing?”

“Dance with me, then.”

Wes stops. He looks over at Danny and…

He—

He blinks, shakes his head.

“No, not—not right now,” he mumbles.

“There’s a whole reason I came alone, you know,” Danny says.

“What, so you could get fucked up and no one would stop you?”

“Yeah! I mean… well, that’s part of it.”

Wes guides them towards the stairs, ignoring the looks.

“Your house is bigger than it looks from the outside,” Danny says.

“Thanks?”

“Mmhm.”

God. This is so not what he thought tonight was going to be like.

“Where are we going?” Danny asks.

“Somewhere you can lay down and sober up.”

“Tha’s not vague.”

Wes starts pulling Danny up the staircase. The second floor is dark, and he gropes around to hit the light.

The first few steps are fine, which is to say the next steps aren’t fine.

What he’s saying is that Danny says, “oh shit.”

And then he’s falling—pulling Wes down with him.

More accurately, Danny trips and pulls Wes down on top of him.

They end up in a heap and Danny groans like someone does when they fall on the fucking stairs.

“Ow.” He reaches for the back of his head. Then he’s laughing, like it's the funniest goddamn thing in the world, what just happened. His face screws up, the face of someone who doesn’t know he’s in pain, just pretending.

“Seriously?” Wes snaps. His shin smarts—must have hit it on the stairs.

“Sorry, sorry.” He laughs each syllable. “You good?”

“No, I’m not—” And he looks down and he realizes how close they are. Realizes the way Danny’s hair falls into his face, the light catching the slope of his jaw.

Danny quiets at the same time and it’s like they get stuck there. Like nothing else exists other than this staircase and this moment and the way Danny feels cool and solid like a summer night underneath him.

“Hey,” Danny says—sounds almost breathless. “Come here often?”

Wes rolls his eyes and just like that the moment is over.

“Ugh.” He pushes himself up, detangles himself from Danny.

Danny reaches for him, that stupid smile back on his face.

“Oh come on, Wes,” he says.

“Quit messing around, dude.”

Danny pushes himself up, runs a hand through his hair and Wes tracks the motion with his eyes against his best wishes.

“You’re so mean. I could have a concussion and this is how you treat me?”

Wes stands up and straightens his clothes. “You’re fine.”

Danny gives him a look and then something sparks in his eyes. “I’m going to text Sam and Tucker and tell them how mean you are to me.”

Psh. He says that like they don’t already hate him.

“Would you just get up?”

“These stairs are actually kinda comfy,” he says, head rolling back, sinking back down and closing his eyes. “I think I’ll just stay here.”

Wes kicks his leg.

“You can lay down in the room. Get up.”

Danny heaves a sigh, throws an arm over his eyes.

“Fiiinnneee.” He pulls himself up by the handrail, stops in a sitting position. “Jesus,” he says, voice just above a whisper. His breathing gets weird. It makes Wes pause.

“You okay?”

“...Spinning,” Danny breathes. He’s quiet for a bit, and Wes just lets him sit there. Danny holds his head in his hands for a while.

Worry creeps into the back of his mind. Maybe Danny wasn’t kidding about the concussion thing. Maybe he should get someone—

Then Danny is standing up and Wes steadys his other arm.

“I got you,” he says. “Feeling okay?”

Danny sends him a weak smile. “Yeah. Laying down does sound good though," he mumbles.

They make it up the rest of the stairs, and Danny leans against the wall as Wes opens the door to his room.

It’s dark and quiet inside and he flips on the light.

He helps Danny in, and he flops face first onto his bed. He groans and rolls over.

“I’m thinking those last few shots of Fireball were a bad idea…”

Wes snorts and closes the door softly behind him.

“Oh, just the last few, huh?”

“I was havin’ fun, smartass,” Danny grumbles.

Wes leans back against his dresser and crosses his arms. “I said you should have stopped but noooo, no one listens to Wes.”

It gets quiet and he can feel the heaviness in the air. He clears his throat. “If you throw up in my bed, I’m kicking you out the window.”

“I’m not going to throw up.”

“Famous last words, Fenton.”

“Shaddup,” Danny says, and it gets quiet.

Wes can feel the bass from the music through the floor, the muffled sound of singing, laughing, talking. He’s used to ducking out at parties early. He’s used to laying in bed and listening to the songs through the walls until the voices slowly fade and the house is empty again. He listens to Kyle stumble up to bed and knock into the walls and yell “I’m okay” when he does.

He’s not used to having… company.

Danny sits up like a puppet on too few strings. He makes a frustrated noise.

“It’s still hot,” he sighs.

“It’s the alcohol, dude.”

Danny runs his hands over his face, and then reaches back and starts pulling his hoodie off. It drags his shirt up with it and Wes can’t help but look. He looks at the multitude of scars staining Danny’s skin and the way his muscles move over his ribs and—he pulls his gaze away and studies the floor instead.

“This is your bedroom, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Doesn’t look how I thought it would.”

Wes wrinkles his nose. “How'd you think it would look?”

Danny takes his time looking around the room, hoodie pooled in his lap, before he looks at Wes and gives a boneless shrug.

“I dunno. More,” he holds his hands up, splays his fingers, “raah!”

“I… don’t know what that means.”

“You know! Like… newspaper-clipping red-web on all the walls,” Danny says, smile creeping back.

Wes squints at Danny. He pushes off his dresser.

“That’s still all you think of me?” He picks a pillow from his bed and throws it at Danny’s face. Danny lets out a yelp.

“Besides, I took all that shit down when the truth came out anyway,” he says, trying and failing to keep the inkling of a smile from his voice.

Danny looks at him blankly for a second before he starts to smile again.

“Wait, was that… Did you just make a joke?”

Wes snorts.

“You did! Holy shit, Wes has a sense of humor, this is bigger news than my shit. I gotta tell everyone.”

Danny looks soft, sitting like this in the middle of his bed, eyes warm in a way Wes didn’t realize they could be.

Something in him loosens.

“Good luck getting people to believe you…” he says.

“Oh, how the turn tables,” Danny says, and for a bit all they do is smile at each other.

Danny looks away first, he glances up at the light and squints.

“You got a light that isn’t so fuckin’ bright?”

“I thought the light sensitivity was supposed to happen the morning after drinking.”

“You’re full of jokes tonight.”

Wes rolls his eyes and flips on the bedside lamp and then shuts off the overhead light.

Danny hums and flops back down. “Better,” he says.

It’s silent for a few beats and Danny lifts his head to look at him. He smacks the comforter a few times with a flat hand.

Wes blanches; he’s all too aware of himself, of Danny and the dim light and the closed door.

“Dude, chill,” Danny says, like he can read his mind—wait, he can’t actually do that, right? Ghosts can’t do that?

“Sit down or something. You just standing there watching me is creepy,” Danny says.

Wes swallows his own heartbeat, shakes his head. “Seriously, between the two of us, I’m not the creepy one.”

“Says the stalker.”

“I didn’t stalk you.”

Danny gives him a look, with raised eyebrows and everything.

Wes sits on the side of the bed, scoots back so he’s leaned against the headboard.

“I was… investigating.”

Danny laughs. “Sure, dude. Whatever you say,” and his voice is like smoke—hickory and rough but winding through the air like silk.

They fall into an amiable silence, cotton soft, but cold. Danny has an arm over his eyes again, and his breathing is so slow it’s hard to pick out from the music downstairs.

He rakes a hand through his hair and takes out his phone. He unlocks it and scrolls mindlessly for a while.

He can’t focus.

Not with Danny so close like this. Not when everything is different now. His mind drifts off and he tries to keep track of every breath, wonders if he’s fallen asleep—

“Hey, Wes.”

He jumps. Just a little bit.

“Y-yeah?”

“I��m sorry.”

He puts his phone down.

“...For what?”

“For making everyone think you were crazy.”

Wes twists his hand in his comforter. Why the hell is Danny apologizing to him? After everything he’s done to him… tried to do to him. It gets stuck in his throat.

“It’s… You don’t have to—” he wishes he’d had a few more drinks.

“Nah. I do. Looking back, I didn’t handle you knowing very well.”

He chews on his lip. He’s never felt so out of place.

“Danny…”

Danny moves his arm and looks up at him and his courage almost shrivels.

“I’m the one who should apologize. Not you. I—” He balls his hands into fists. “What I did, trying to basically out you, that wasn’t… that wasn’t okay.”

“You didn’t know the whole situation.”

“Did I need to? It was still fucked up and. I’m sorry. I was so wrapped up in wanting to be right that I didn’t care what it could have done to you.”

It feels like glass coming up from his throat.

He’s lost sleep, engraved in the ceiling all the ways he fucked up, all the times he's glad now that no one listened to him. His eyes feel hot and there’s no way in hell he’s going to fucking get emotional in front of Danny.

“It all worked out in the end,” Danny says. He says it easy, gentle. “You were still technically right, though, so… There’s that.”

Wes huffs. “Yeah. I guess.” He fights through all the mess. “I don’t know how this didn’t happen sooner though. You were terrible at hiding it.”

Danny props himself up on his elbows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude, I'm a great liar.”

Wes leans his head back on the headboard. “Sure, but you’re reckless as hell. How many times did you stick your arm through your locker in front of God and everyone?”

Danny smiles wide and bright.

“Honestly, after a while, it was just fun to see how far I could go before anyone noticed.”

Wes can’t help but chuckle. “Pretty far, obviously.”

“No kidding.”

Wes runs his palms over his jeans.

“You’re good though, right?” Wes looks anywhere but Danny. “At home and all that.”

“Oh. Yeah. It was, uhm, a lot for my parents. But we’re getting there.”

“Good… That’s good.” The words feel sharp and blocky, and he doesn’t know what else to say. What else can he say?

His buzz pulls away from him, pulls him down, makes his lids heavy.

“How do you think Dash is doing?” Danny says.

“Pf. If he isn’t hugging a trashcan right now, I’ll be shocked.”

Danny laughs.

Wes leans over onto some of his pillows.

“How are you this okay after drinking all that?”

Danny shrugs. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m feeling it. My guess is something to do with the healing factor ghost shit.”

“Right, makes sense.”

He feels tired and heavy and the darkness at the corners of the room get fuzzier.

“Paulina brought her own champagne glass,” Danny tells him. And he laughs because, who does that?

He rolls onto his back and they stare at the ceiling.

“Are you kidding? Paulina does that, it’s Paulina,” Danny says.

They stare at the ceiling like it’s not a ceiling, like it might become more than just ceiling. Wes imagines it disappearing completely.

Danny likes stars, doesn’t he?

When Danny talks again it’s like he’s far away. An arms length, an atmosphere’s length… he doesn’t know.

Danny says, “sucks that I’m missing the Super Smash Tournament.”

Wes tries to keep his eyes from slipping shut. The bed pulls him like quicksand, the smell of sleep. “Trust me, dude, Kyle always wins anyway.”

Danny says something, something about who he mains or doesn’t main. It becomes all the same, the sluggish rise and fall.

At some point between light and dark Wes decides that he likes the sound of Danny’s voice. He somehow likes that the room is colder than it usually is.

And maybe somewhere between all that he decides some other stuff too.

—

Wes wakes up before Danny. The sun streams in through a gap in his curtains, pooling on the wall and floor.

He doesn’t have a headache, but his neck hurts like hell.

Danny is lying on his side faced away from him and, fuck, thank God. He thinks about last night, about Danny in his arms and he—

He sits up and rubs his hands over his warm cheeks.

Water. He should get some water.

He slips out of his room and goes downstairs to the kitchen. The house is quiet.

Well.

Mostly.

He can hear the sink running and the clink of glass. When he comes around the corner he sees Kyle washing dishes. The house is only half as trashed as he thought it’d be.

Kyle looks up at him as he walks in.

“Morning.”

He grunts, going to pluck a clean glass from the drying rack.

“Hangover?”

“Nah. Slept wrong.” He fills his glass at the fridge and downs it all at once. The water helps wash the sour taste from his mouth. Ugh, he should still brush his teeth.

He fills the glass again and heads back upstairs. He pushes back into his room and when the door creaks he sees Danny jump.

He walks around the bed and offers the glass to a squinting Danny.

“Awake?” he asks.

Danny groans and pushes himself up. His hair is messy, hanging in his eyes. It's infuriating.

He rubs the side of his face and when he takes the cup their fingers brush.

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

“We have pop-tarts and cereal and shit downstairs.”

Danny gives him a thumbs up while he drinks.

He wants to ask if he’s okay... He decides to leave it for later.

Wes leaves his room and goes back to the kitchen. When he gets there, he pulls the pop-tarts down from the cabinet.

“So, here’s what I’m thinking,” Kyle says, “if you wanna clean the dining room, I’ll clean the living room.”

“Nope, no. This was your thing, dude. You threw the party.”

“But Wes,” he whines, “Dad’s gonna be home tonight.”

“Then you should probably get started,” he says and claps him on the shoulder on his way to the toaster.

“Dude, cold blooded. You’re just gonna watch me slave away for hours and not even help your own brother?”

“Uh... yeah.” He slots the pop-tarts into the toaster. He turns towards Kyle and leans against the counter, grinning at him.

Kyle gives him a look.

“How much.”

“No. No, I’m not gonna be bought this time.”

“Twenty bucks.”

“Kyle.”

“Fine, you drive a hard bargain. Forty.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“‘This time?’ What happened last time?”

They jump and look at Danny as he comes down the stairs. He has his hoodie slung over a shoulder and the half empty water glass in his hand.

“Holy shit,” Kyle says.

“It’s not important,” he says, sending a glare at the back of Kyle’s head.

Danny walks up to the counter and sets the glass down to pull his hoodie on.

“No fucking way,” Kyle says, voice pitched up. “I didn’t believe it when everyone was talking about it last night, holy shit.”

Danny tugs the hem of his hoodie down and gives Kyle a confused look that he moves over to Wes.

He returns the look, just as lost.

“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?”

“You two hooking up last night,” Kyle says, like it’s obvious.

It feels like for a second time stops—

Hooking up?

Hooking up?!

His heart skips in his chest and heat rushes to his face and the tips of his ears. He feels like he’s been slapped across the face.

Danny looks like a deer in the headlights.

“Uh—”

The toaster pops.

“Which, can I just say, I totally called it. I knew there had to be another reason Wes was so obsessed with yo—”

“Kyle!” he snaps, his voice higher than he anticipated. “Kyle, oh my fucking god, shut up. We didn’t— Nothing happened last night, we just—”

His breath feels tight in his throat and he wants to lock himself in his room forever. He can’t make himself look at Danny.

“Who the hell told you that-that we—”

“Uh, dude, a bunch of people saw you guys go into your room together. You know Pualina was telling me that Danny was all over yo—”

“Okay! Thank you, Kyle!” he cuts in. “Jesus fucking—” He buries his face in his hands.

This is it, this is how he’s going to die.

“I’m just glad for you two! I mean, like, jeez, finally!”

“Kyle, I’ll help you clean if you shut up right now and never bring this up ever again.”

Kyle stops, face lighting up. “Dude, deal.”

“Cool. Now please leave.”

“What?”

Wes grabs him by the arm and starts dragging him out of the kitchen. “Leave. Go get the cleaning shit from the garage or some shit, I don’t know.”

“Oh. Ohhhh, I see. I get you. I’ll leave you two kids alone to enjoy your breakfast together,” he says with a wink and holy fuck, he’s going to kill his fucking brother.

Kyle heads for the stairs and calls down, “Lemme know when it’s safe to come back down!”

Wes drags his hands down his face. He lets out a slow breath and he tries to ignore his pounding heart.

Wes goes to the nearest counter and puts his head down. The surface is cold against his burning skin. He groans like an injured animal and at this point he really wishes someone would put him out of his misery.

“Well…” Danny says from behind him.

He hears Danny moving and the sound of the fridge being opened. He looks up, watches as Danny takes orange juice from the fridge. When he turns around he sees his face is red too.

“I mean… hardly the worst rumor to get spread around about us,” he says. That stupid smile makes its way onto Danny’s face.

“I once had this dude tell everyone at school that I was a ghost. It was super weird.”

Wes shakes his head. “Dude, shut up.” But he can’t help the grin that pulls at his lips.

Danny laughs, a quieter thing today than it was last night.

“I can have some, right?” he asks, lifting the OJ.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

They fall into silence while Danny pours a glass and Wes goes to numbly retrieve his pop-tarts.

“It’s probably spread through all of Casper now, huh.”

Danny glances at him. Something dances through his expression. He hums as he takes a drink of his juice.

“Uh. Probably further than that, now that everyone knows I'm… you know.” Danny shoots him an uneasy look.

Right. Right.

This was just getting better and better.

He takes a bite of his pop-tart. It crumbles in his mouth like sand.

“Are you… okay?” Danny asks. He reaches back and rubs his neck, and dammit, now he’s just adding insult to injury.

He looks at him, and he sees the nerves in the way he holds himself, stitched into the way the light hits him. He’s not asking just one question.

Wes swallows.

“Yeah… Yeah, I mean, like you said. There could be way worse rumors,” he says. He looks at Danny like he’s too far away, like he enjoyed last night way more than he should have. And he sees it in Danny too, some sort of mirror.

“I think so too,” Danny says, heavy the way he exhales it.

They break eye contact and Wes doesn’t really know what to do, what to say.

“Well, uh. You have cleaning to do, I guess. I should probably get home before my parents get too freaked out.”

Wes nods. “Yeah, probably.” He wonders if Danny knows what’s in his voice. The dark from last night is clouding his mind, pulling him, begging him to just say it.

“Yeah… I’ll, uh, see you at school?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

But Danny doesn't move.

He lingers like a shadow. He looks like he wants to go. He looks like he wants to stay.

“Wes,” he says.

Wes looks at him.

He worries at his bottom lip and moves along the counter towards him.

“Thanks. For last night.”

He lets out a puff. “Well, someone had to make sure you didn’t die the rest of the way from alcohol poisoning.”

Danny rolls his eyes.

“I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were pretty bad.”

“Not even.” Danny smiles.

And they’re close again, sharing each other's space.

“It wasn’t… awful, I guess,” he says before he can stop himself. “Even with you being a pain in the ass the entire time.”

“Maybe we could do it again sometime,” Danny murmurs.

“What, me looking after your drunk ass the whole night?”

Danny snorts. “No, I was thinking more like I match you drink for drink instead,” he says.

“At least then you’d last till the Smash tournament.”

Danny glances away.

“I didn’t mind missing it too much, actually.”

Wes’s breath gets stuck and his heart beats like a drum in his ribcage.

“Really?”

“Yeah…”

In some ways it’s just like last night; Danny’s close enough he can feel the movement of his breath between them.

“It’s way more fun, bothering you.”

It’s a slow motion sort of thing, a hair raising thing.

“Well you’re an expert at it by now.”

Wes thinks about theme parks. Sitting at the top of the sky and just before his stomach drops—

“Always room for improvement. I could get better at it if you want me to.”

And what if he does? What if he wants to see Danny in all the ways he can? What if he wants to know Danny for real this time?

Maybe he wants pictures, proof that it’s real.

Maybe it’s always been leading to this.

Maybe it’s fucked up.

Wes having the power to hurt him all over again.

“Drink for drink?” he says, barely a whisper.

“Drink for drink,” Danny says—closer, closer, breath against his lips.

Danny gives him time to pull away. But Wes doesn’t. Something to do with what he decided last night.

“Prove it.”

#Unidentified Flying Ship #danny/wes #Danny Phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #my writing #DP Shiptember 2021 #drunk prompt #one-shot #wes weston #wesley weston

122 notes · View notes

voiceswithoutlips · 3 years

Text

Calico - Chapter Two

— pairing: Hybrid ot7 x Human Reader (Female) — genre: hybrid AU , fluff, angst, slow burn (like real slow), eventual smut — word count: 2K — Rating: M — warnings: trauma, mention of past abuse.

Click for Tag List

— chapter summary:

Y/N runs a animal shelter, Calico was built on a simple principle, to help those who were in need. What will Y/N do when her sanctuary is threatened by an unexpected hybrid?

— A/N: This is going to be a series, I’m just getting back to writing, so I’d really appreciate your input and feedback <3

Ch. 1 Ch. 3 Ch. 3.5 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6

I stumbled out of bed with a groan, it was almost noon and my hangover was killing me. Last night I was too stressed so I drowned my worries in a bottle of whisky. Why was adulting so annoying, ugh. The house was quiet, Jason had probably already gone to the shelter. I made my way to the kitchen, my zombie brain screaming for coffee. I like my coffee black and bitter, just like my soul. Kidding, I don’t have a soul.

My phone rang somewhere in the living room. The place looked like a tornado had torn through it. The floor was covered with papers and cushions and clothes and other unidentifiable mess. What the fuck happened last night? By the time I found my phone the ringing had stopped. 28 missed calls from Jason and 2% battery ...great.

I made my way to the exam room, the most likely place for Jason to be. It was just a five minute walk from the house. I was in my pajamas, my hair sticking out and the coffee cup in my hand. It was Sunday, I was grumpy.

There was a half-naked man sitting on the exam table, no not a man, a hybrid. His white fluffy tail was droopy. Long white ears poked from his long black hair, he desperately needed a haircut. His ears were limp on his back. There was a hole in his left ear, it was properly done but too big for a piercing. My eyes widened with realization, I’d seen that before on cattle, his previous owners must’ve tagged him.

The hybrid showed no reaction as I went to stand beside Jason, and directly in front of him. His upper body was muscular, he had a thick neck and washboard abs. He was gorgeous. He had a strong jawline, cute eyes and a small nose. The combination of cute and sexy was deadly. His hands were clasped together and he was hunched over, trying to make himself look small, not an easy feat to achieve.

“Y/N, this is Jungkook,” Jason introduced the hybrid. The bunny stiffened, he didn’t raise his head to look at me. What do I do? I wasn’t good with people, I preferred animals to humans.

“Hello, I’m Y/N,” I greeted. He was sitting so still that you would think he wasn’t even there. Was he even breathing? He was still looking down.

I looked at Jason, I didn’t know what to do. “I found him near the hatch this morning so I brought him in for a checkup.” I nodded.

“Are you hungry? I’m practically starving!” I asked, extending a tentative hand towards the bunny, palm up. He flinched. I kept my hand where it was. I would stand here for hours if I had to. My stubbornness knew no bounds. Minutes passed slowly, Jason was leaning on the counter perfectly at ease, he was a good actor.

Slowly Jungkook took my hand. “Let’s go have breakfast,” I whispered, a smile on my face as I slowly led him to the kitchen. Well kitchen was an overstatement, it was a small room with six refrigerators and two freezers, most of them contained medical supplies. A sad, overused coffee machine and a small stove for “Emergency Ramen”, it was our own special recipe.

I opened the fridge with a “No Science Allowed” poster taped to its door. I pulled out a bunch of greens to make a salad, rabbits need their greens. We always stocked the fridge for humans and the animals. I wasn’t a particularly good cook, I could cook enough to not starve but that was the extent of my cooking skills. A quick chicken salad, eggs and toast and a bunch of pancakes and breakfast was served.

Jungkook was still standing near the door where I had left him, eyes downcast, ears flopped. I was an idiot, a massive idiot, I assumed he would sit at the table on his own. Bad Y/N!

“Jungkook, come sit with me,” I mentally hit myself, it sounded like a command, I was terrible at this. I was used to animals, you tell them what to do, you can’t ask a dog if he’d like to sit with you, but Jungkook was a person. I can be an animal therapist but humans? They were beyond me. I didn’t know how to get to him.

He sat at the table. I pushed the food in front of him, expecting him to eat, another mistake. Hybrids are supposed to obey, they don't do things on their own. I was supposed to tell him what to do. I wanted to pound my head on the table. Stupid Y/N.

“What would you like to eat?” I asked in the gentlest voice possible, at least I hoped it was gentle.

No response.

“Go on this is all for you,” I tried to be encouraging.

Nothing.

“Tell you what, if you finish your breakfast, I’ll give you a treat,” his ears twitched. He tentatively picked up a fork and started eating. His movements were small, he barely made any noise as he chewed but at least he was eating.

I was still confuzzled, it is a word, a made up word, but then again all words are made up words. Confused and puzzled. I had no idea how to approach him, do I treat him like a human or a rabbit. The ‘treat’ card worked but will it work every time? He was taking small bites, I wondered if the food tasted bad. Maybe I forgot to add sugar to the pancakes? Did I forget to season the salad? I sighed internally. He needed a proper meal but sadly, Jason and I were terrible cooks. We lived on take-outs and ramen. Maybe it was time to learn how to cook.

I stood up, he froze. I had to get him used to people. I ignored his stiff posture as I walked to one of the freezers and pulled out a container that held my favorite ice cream. It was ‘ice cream for breakfast’ kind of day. I didn’t bother with bowls, two spoons and I was back in my seat.

“You know this is my absolute favorite ice cream in the entire world. It's called Chocolate Brownie Fudge with Marshmallows. It's like a little piece of heaven in a plastic container,” I offered him a spoon. He looked at it as if it was going to bite him. “Go on, it's your treat!” I encouraged with a grin. It was meant to be a small smile but he was too cute and the ice cream made me happy.

I dug into the ice cream as if my life depended on it. Jungkook watched me curiously, the spoon still in his hand. He hadn’t finished his breakfast but it was a start. For me, it was Sunday, the day where I threw caution to the wind and ate what I wanted. He hesitantly took a spoonful of ice cream, watching me as if I was going to pull the container away from him and tell him it was a joke.

As soon as the spoon touched his tongue his eyes lit up like christmas. “Amazing isn’t it?” I asked, taking another bite. He nodded excitedly. Apparently he had a sweet tooth. I pushed the ice cream towards him and watched him devour the whole thing in minutes. God he was adorable!

I settled down on the couch in my office, I desperately needed a shower but that’d have to wait. Jason had taken Jungkook back to our house, he was going to stay in the guest room for the time being. It's not like I was going to put him in the hybrid shelter building, nobody deserved that and he couldn’t stay as a rabbit forever.

I had a file in front of me, a file on Jungkook. All hybrids are installed with a microchip and registered in the hybrid database as soon as they are born ...or rather created in the labs. Hybrids couldn’t procreate, they were made in labs owned by big corporations. Jason had scanned Jungkooks microchip, the file contained everything about his life.

He was created in Corebear Tech’s lab and sold at the age of six to a wealthy family as a pet for their son. He was sent back to the company when he was twelve because he had grown too big for a rabbit hybrid. Corebear Tech then sold him to Apexi Pharmaceuticals and I guess that’s where Yonu found him.

I felt …I didn’t know what I felt. Maybe a sense of defeat. Jungkook was twenty-three, he was in that lab for eleven years. He was just one year younger than me. I was lost. I couldn’t even imagine what he must’ve gone through. There was no way I was going to let Apexi take him back. I called Song Hwa and gave her the file. After all we had evidence to collect and a case to build.

“Not this again!!” I ran through the front door as soon as I smelled smoke in our kitchen. Jason was standing in front of the stove fanning a pot with a newspaper.

“I was cooking rice, I don’t know what happened,” he said opening the windows.

I took a peek, the rice was black, utterly totally burnt. “Jason …you’re supposed to add water to cook it…”

“Oh,” Jason loved to cook, the problem was he just couldn’t. I was 200% sure that he was cursed by some evil witch. The moment Jason tries to cook, all hell breaks loose.

“You’re on clean-up duty,” I grumbled. At least it wasn’t that bad, the cake incident was still fresh in my mind. Once upon a time, when we still lived in our dorm, Jason decided to bake a cake …in a pressure cooker. Needless to say, it was a disaster. The cooker blew up, damaging half the kitchen. Thankfully no one was injured.

I softly knocked on the guestroom door. Jungkook had spent the whole day in his room, not that I blamed him. New place, new people, it was bound to be scary.

“Hey Jungkook, you want to come out for dinner?” I asked. I could deliver him ramen to his room if he wanted but I hoped he’d come out and eat with us. Yes, we were having ramen, Jason and I still lived as we had lived in our dorm, the only difference was our house was nicer and we had a garden.

Jungkook opened the door, he hadn’t locked it. He scrunched his nose as soon as he stepped out. The house was full of burnt smell from Jason’s cooking adventure. The smell must be stronger for him.

“Yeah, Jason tried to cook rice. Pro tip, never eat the food that Jason makes, he’s a terrible cook. Do you want to come eat with us?” I asked. I got a small nod in return.

“Let’s gooooo!! Do you like ramen? We have a really good recipe, well its nothing special, we just throw in some bacon and rice cakes and of course a fuckton of cheese,” I rambled as he followed me to the dining table. “You can never go wrong with cheese, unless you’re Jason,” Jason made protesting noises, I rolled my eyes at him.

Dinner was a bit awkward. Jason and I kept trying to make Jungkook talk but it didn’t work. The poor bunny hadn’t spoken a single word since he’d arrived at Calico. The only thing we got out of him were small nods and silence. I wondered if we should consult a therapist. He was human after all and he needed help.

I heard a sharp gasp from my left. Jungkook’s eyes were huge, he was frozen in his chair. He had accidently knocked the salt shaker off the table.

“I’m so..sorry. Please don’t punish me. I’ll do anything,” his voice was so small, it made my heart ache.

“Oh honey no!” I said as I held his hands. “It was an accident. You remember what I told you? This is a safe space, you’ll never be punished here. I won’t let anyone hurt you, okay?” I was mentally cursing myself for holding his hands on impulse. What if he didn’t like people invading his personal space? My worries were put to rest as he squeezed my hands.

“Okay,” he said in the smallest voice.

Previous || Next

353 notes · View notes

ayellowcurtain · 3 years

Text

Sobbe where Robbe gets sick, maybe food poisoning or something like that, and Sander races over and is super caring and just looks after him. All the fluff in the world please ☺️☺️☺️🥺🥺🥺

To Robbe: how are you feeling?

Sander bites his lip, tapping his feet as the dots appear and disappear a few times on his conversation with Robbe.

To Sander: I'm okay

Ish

I think it's food poisoning.

Sander sighs, standing up, grabbing everything one hand can reach while still staring at his phone. Robbe never says he's sick. He'll play it cool, and so an okay-ish is already worrying.

To Robbe: I'm coming over.

He puts his phone on his table as he shoves all his pens inside the case, checking to see if Robbe gives him any answer but he doesn't which makes Sander move even faster.

He grabs some clean clothes, and puts his hoodie back on, knowing Robbe will need it when he gets there. His toothbrush, underwear, notebook, sketchbooks, pens, phone and headphones. There's not much he needs other than that, considering the most important part is already there.

He's not sure what can make food poisoning better so he checks with his mom. Her being a doctor always comes in hand.

"How is he feeling?" She asks, her attentive eyes looking through her lashes the second he appears in the kitchen, still typing something on her computer.

Sander sighs, opening the fridge to see what he can take to Robbe. He grabs his bottle of water, some leftover food he ate last night and puts it on the island, opening his bag to make everything fit.

“Probably terrible but he’s acting chill about it.”

His mom snorts, putting her computer aside for a second. “And I assume you’re going there and you won’t be home for a second.”

Sander looks up through his lashes this time, lifting his eyebrows. Yes, he doesn’t know when he’s coming back and his mom is already thinking and quietly tell him to know when to leave, to not annoy Robbe’s mom too much, to let his boyfriend rest for as long as he might need.

“Don’t forget to tell dad or he’ll call and annoy me every five minutes.” Sander leaves his bag open, walking around the island to leave a quic kiss on his mom’s temple, grabbing his tablet that he left there earlier while doing his homework.

“Please, don’t forget your medication.” She says and Sander nods his head, rolling his eyes as he makes another pit stop at the cabinet he leaves his medication right next to the fridge so he won’t forget to drink it with his water every morning. He shows her the plastic container and shoves it inside his bag, leaving home, texting Robbe to tell he’s on his way.

He goes the short way, constantly checking but Robbe doesn’t send any more messages. His mom is the one to open the door for Sander, smiling always so sweetly, already hugging Sander and he’s used to it by now, asking how Robbe is.

“He’s still resting in his bedroom. I just made him some soup and left some water for him to keep drinking. But tell him to do so or he’ll forget.”

“Yeah. My mom said he should just rest, drink water and go back to eating slowly.” Robbe’s mom nods her head, locking the door behind him, helping him take his jacket off.

“He didn’t eat anything today, but I gave him lots of water. He said he was going to watch some movie while he waited for you.”

Sander smiles just thinking about it. A soft, sleepy, needy Robbe that’s probably warm from staying under the covers all day long, hiding in the dark, watching a movie or sipping on the soup his mom is forcing him to eat.

“Do you want to eat anything?” His mom asks while waiting for Sander to get rid of his boots. “I made some pasta for myself, but you should here in the kitchen if you want. Robbe will kill you if you eat around him.”

Sander snorts because Robbe actually would. He’s hungry but not too much so he can wait until later, when Robbe will sleep before he does and he has some time to kill before he gets sleepy himself.

“I’ll eat later, thank you.”

She smiles and nods her head, going back to the living room so Sander can go upstairs and meet his sick, beautiful boyfriend. He knocks on the door and puts his head inside, smiling when Robbe finds him instantly, smiling.

“Hello, sleepyhead.” Sander closes the door carefully behind him, locking in case they end up sleeping naked because it’s too hot for clothes under the heavy comforter.

“Hi. You took forever to get here.” Robbe whines, pulling his comforter to his chin. Sander sighs, and rolls his eyes fondly, taking his jeans off, leaving it with his bag on the chair, watching as his boyfriend move to the side to make some room for him.

“You want me to close the curtains?” Sander asks already moving to he big window. It’s a bright night outside, the full moon shining with no cloud to get in the way. Robbe still as beautiful as that first night, and Sander loves to see him under the moon light but that’s not practical for a night in, cuddling in bed with one of them feeling like shit. He closes because he knows the answer, he was just being nice by asking.

“I can’t seem to pay attention to any movie I try to watch.” Robbe explains, pushing Sander’s side of the comforter down, opening his arms, ready to lock Sander close to him using all his arms and legs.

Sander sits on the bed, taking his hoodie off, offering it to Robbe and he grabs it but doesn’t put it on, just keeps it on his side of the bed for later. By the way the mattress is burning hot, Sander can tell his boyfriend has a fever but he doubts Robbe doesn’t know that already so he lies down, purring when he gets close enough where he can feel an almost completely naked Robbe, even softer than Sander imagined, his underwear rolling up his thighs a little bit.

“How are you really feeling?” Sander asks again, gently resting his hand on Robbe’s ass, helping him hook his leg around Sander’s waist.

“Fucking hot.” Robbe complains.

“You really are, my god.”

“Shut up.” Robbe hides against his neck, and Sander can feel his hair strands damp still, sticking to Robbe’s head a little bit. “You don’t even believe in him.”

“I believe in God because whatever that is, it made you.”

Robbe laughs softly, and doesn’t answer with some smartass comeback. He’s already completed relaxed, and Sander is sure he has no energy in him. But maybe the fever is a sign that the worst is almost over. Hopefully tomorrow morning Robbe will be fully recovered.

“You’re so handsome. And I love you so fucking much, Robin.” Sander whispers against the top of his head, pushing all his hair to the side, keeping what he can behind Robbe’s ear.

He stretches his neck as much as he can, seeing the empty bowl on the nightstand.

“How was the soup?”

Robbe only nods his head, and Sander kisses what he can reach without moving of his face and hair, pulling the cover to his shoulder. Normally he would pull it to his chin but that way Robbe would be completely covered and he would melt away.

“You wanna drink some more water? Try to watch the movie again?”

“No.” Robbe says with his pouty voice. “We’ll watch tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay, captain.”

Robbe looks up at him and Sander leaves a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I love you. Thank you for coming.”

“It’s my pleasure, cutie.” He runs his hand from the small of Robbe’s back to his ribs, checking his arms, and neck too. “Tomorrow we’ll also take a bath in the morning, before your mom wakes up.”

Robbe purrs, hugging him tighter.

“And you’ll behave yourself because it’s just a bath to see if it helps with this fever.”

“Sander...” Robbe whines, and pouts and makes his whole scene and Sander watches, kissing him longer this time, loving the feeling of their lips sticking to each other when he moves away.

“If your fever is gone maybe we don’t have to behave so much.”

Robbe smiles, nodding his head, kissing Sander for a long time now.

#wtfock #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #robbe x sander #sobbe

85 notes · View notes

hufflautia · 3 years

Text

The Boyfriend

Dedicated to the anon who came up w this idea and to @eatacrackerandstop <3. There's a small Shadow and Bone reference; if you find it, you get a high five✨

Summary: Slytherin and Hufflepuff meet their daughter’s boyfriend for the first time, and Slytherin has a few concerns.

Hufflepuff closes the door behind her daughter, who stepped out to privately wish her boyfriend goodbye on the front stoop, and turns to Slytherin.

“He seems like a sweet kid,” she smiles. Slytherin follows her into the kitchen with a disgruntled expression. He leans against the countertop as she begins washing the dishes.

“What’s taking her so long,” he eyes the door. “It only takes a couple of seconds to say goodbye to someone.”

“They spent the entire night with us. They probably just want a little alone time,” Hufflepuff replies. She glances at him when he sighs and crosses his arms. “Do I sense a little disdain for our daughter’s boyfriend?”

Slytherin scowls.

“I don’t like him,” he states plainly. “He gives me...bad boy vibes.” His scowl deepens when she laughs incredulously.

“Bad boy vibes?”

“Yes,” he says indignantly. “Bad boy vibes! Did you see his smirk when she laughed at his joke?"

"You smirk a lot,” she points out, to which he grudgingly admits. “Besides, is it bad that he can make her laugh?"

"'Course not," he huffs. "But did you see how he put his arms around her?”

"I'm pretty sure that's called a hug, honey."

Slytherin steps between her and the sink. She shoots him a look as water drips on the floor.

“Please get out of my way, Slytherin. You’re acting like a child.”

He takes her hands into his own, not caring that they’re wet. “Honey, you’re not listening to me.”

“I am! I just don’t agree with you.” She continues before Slytherin can object. “You’re worrying over nothing. Our daughter is old enough to make her own decisions on who she hangs out with and what she does with her time."

“She’s only in her seventh year—”

“Slytherin," she says sternly. “Our baby is grown now, believe it or not. I trust her judgment. You should too.”

His brows furrow, and he doesn’t respond right away.

"It's not that I don't trust her," he finally says. "I just don't want her to get hurt."

Hufflepuff softens in this rare moment of vulnerability—his grumpiness and frustration often mask his fears.

"We can't control what happens," she says gently. "We can't control who does what or who hurts who. But what we can control is what we do and how we act." Slytherin remains silent as he considers her words. "I think the best thing we can do is support our daughter. And if things don't end well in their relationship, she will know who to come to: the people who have always been there for her."

Her words sink in, and Slytherin nods.

"You're right."

"'Course I'm right."

He smiles somberly. "I’ve only ever wanted to protect her."

"You will," she assures, pulling him into an embrace. "But you will do so at a healthy and reasonable distance. No threatening the boy."

Slytherin snorts and says, "I'm not that type of dad." He rests his chin on top of her head. "But if he breaks her heart, I keep no promises."

"Good," she murmurs into his shirt. “I'll be right behind you.”

Their moment of peace is interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing. They see their daughter, Giselle, standing by the doorway with a flushed grin.

"Hey kiddo," Slytherin smiles.

She makes a face. “I'm 18, Dad. I'm not a kid anymore."

"Alright." Hufflepuff notices a familiar gleam in his eye and tries not to smile as he continues. "Do you prefer muffin? Sweet pea? Or perhaps cupcake—"

Giselle covers her ears. "Dad!" she groans. "Eat a cracker and stop."

He holds his hands up in defeat as he chuckles. "Okay, okay."

"So," Hufflepuff says once things settle down. "What did Dorian think? Did he like us? What about the food? Was my cooking okay?" A look of horror washes over her face. "Oh shoot, should we have given him some leftovers to take back to his family? He probably didn't get too far, I'll go get the food from the fridge and—"

"Honey," Slytherin laughs, resting his hand on the small of her back before she can scurry off in search of tin foil and plastic containers. "It's fine."

"Yeah," Giselle assures. "The food was great, and he loved meeting you guys."

"And we loved meeting him,” Hufflepuff says warmly. “Tell Dorian he's welcome to come back at any time."

"Okay," she grins. "Can we start our movie night now?"

Slytherin nods. "I believe it's Mom's turn to choose the movie."

"I know exactly what we should watch tonight," Hufflepuff beams. They pile onto the couch, and when she puts the disc into the DVD player, everyone but Hufflepuff's face falls when they see the title.

"Aw, not this movie," Giselle complains. "We watched the trailer last week, and you said it yourself that it looked like trash."

"Wha—I didn't say trash!"

"I think you did," Slytherin interjects. He stifles a laugh when she shoots him a look.

Hufflepuff purses her lips. "Ravenclaw and I watched it at the movie theaters a few days ago, and it was a cinematic masterpiece!"

He arches an eyebrow. "So you're gonna watch it again?"

"Yes! Because it’s that good. And I want you guys to watch it with me. The movie has adventure and plot twists and romance—I mean, what hurts more than a broken heart?"

"A severed head," Giselle replies, to which Slytherin snorts a laugh.

Hufflepuff scoffs and shakes her head, but a smile tugs at her lips. “You’ll see what I’m talking about after we watch it, but I need to use the bathroom first. I’ll bring back some popcorn.”

“Can you also get some Sprite?” Giselle calls after her.

“Okay.” Hufflepuff lingers by the doorway. “Do you want anything, sweetie pie?” she says to Slytherin.

“No thanks, snuggle bunny.” He snickers when Giselle visibly cringes. He and Hufflepuff liked to call each other outrageously sweet pet names in front of their daughter for the sole purpose of grossing her out.

“Yes,” Giselle says in a deadpan voice. “This is the exact spot I want to be in right now.”

Hufflepuff laughs and winks at Slytherin before leaving. He watches her walk away before whispering to Giselle, “How likely is it that she’ll accidentally trap herself in the bathroom and we get to pick another movie?”

“Extremely likely,” she replies. “If we put a rubber item underneath the door to act as a door stopper, she won’t be able to open it from the inside…” Slytherin is looking at her weirdly, and she swallows her words. “...I mean, I don’t know.”

Slytherin smiles but doesn’t say anything. Giselle may have inherited her mother’s looks, but she has her father’s mischief.

While they wait for Hufflepuff, Slytherin speaks. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Sure,” she says cautiously.

“Do you love him?”

Her eyebrows rise—she didn’t expect this question. She takes a moment to think.

"Not yet.”

He nods. "But you're happy?"

"I am," she smiles.

His eyes crinkle. If she was happy…well, that was good enough for him.

“I’m glad, kiddo.”

This time, Giselle doesn’t roll her eyes at the term of endearment. Instead, she takes his hand and squeezes it three times. Slytherin, who taught her the gesture, squeezes her hand four times in response.

“Who’s ready to start the movie?” Hufflepuff walks in with popcorn and sprite, unaware of the father-daughter moment she just missed.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Slytherin sighs, scooting over to make space for her. She plops down beside him and settles the bowl between them.

“Oh,” she perks up. “Before I forget. Accio tissue boxes!”

Slytherin looks bewildered as tissue boxes come flying their way. “Do we really need tissues?”

“Absolutely,” she scatters the boxes over their laps. Slytherin raises an eyebrow and glances over at Giselle, who also looks perplexed.

“My teen angst bullshit is about to have a body count,” she whispers as the movie begins playing.

A/N: This fic is somewhat connected to Different Love Languages, another one of my fics. Is the slytherpuff couple in that fic the same couple in this one? That's up to you, dear reader😌

I lowkey hate the title, but I couldn't come up w a better one. Also, this fic was longer than I planned. I originally decided to write something like this:

“Why don’t you like him?”

“Because I used to be a bad boy, which is exactly why I don’t trust him.”

Basic dialogue, plain and simple. But the darling anon who told me their idea deserves a full-length story <3

Let me know what you thought of this one-shot. Feedback makes me happy <3 If you prefer to stay anonymous, the anon option for asks is available! Be safe and well, everyone.

Tag lists are open✨ Let me know via ask/messages/comments if you want to be added or removed.

@slytherpuff-shenanigans @axieleration @sunnniiee @just--another--bean @determinedpines @zenobiagrace @asterinflower @cinnamon-roll-unicorn @mossy-axolotl @dumbbitch11 @hitchhiker-of-the-galaxy @notsowiseravenclaw @arianatorpotterhead @eatacrackerandstop @luciferswife16 @walkinganomaly @asunshinepuff @lewispoolerpayton @adreameratdawn @thewitcheswords @oncergleekpotterhead @princessstoopid @stardustzainy @flvrqnce @multi-fandom-nutjob @eunnieah @iamahufflepuff @1hufflepuff @introvertedrae @princessstoopid @jasminedayz @magnoliamermaid @HOPEFUL-HUFFLEPUFF-PEEVES @peanut-in-the-goal @pufflehuff929 @sophiexteresa @da-fox-rangerrr @dawinehouse @shipping-book-keeper @xxavaloraxx @silverhetdanes @im-a-solanum-lycopersicum @elegantcroissantplaidpony @theoriginaljohnwatsonsblog @theoriginalsherlockholmesblog @vickeyunicorn @arianatorpotterhead @hmilkwhoney @simpering-simpleton @grandcyclecreation @sweetinvisiblewriter @marvelenthusiast10 @mvlpksvthisht @qiaopa @beardedhumanoid @jadefox05 @justanotherperson @inkedintothepaper @minty-malfoy @trippy-morgan @fangirlgeekandfreak @boilyourteeth @absentmindeduniverse @colettedelaurel @halfelven1 @happy-puff @coloring-bud @in-love-with-remus-lupin @autumnpleaves @crakencc @flyme--tothemoon @hedgepuffgirl @littleemotionalpanda @pancakes-and-sugar @korra4321 @aquietkindofthunder @qixnsriess @porksoba @thatfann @hellounicorn @i-have-a-bad-feeling @aasa2102 @zuko-28 @annie-mcl @clementines-x @writtenfoxscreams @randomwriter23 @cryingabtwandavision @coolninjavoid @urfaveslytherin @malfoys-demigod @tumlbr-trasher @violayaxley @wolfpack-arts-industries99 @zainieees-stuff @blueberry-9-pancakes @stressy-depressy @royalelusts

99 notes · View notes

another-tmnt-writer · 4 years

Text

The Quarantine Chronicles

Turtles x Reader

Author: Admin Mo

Prompt: There were a few of you that asked for being quarantined with the turtles, so here you go <3

Note: There’s one part for each turtle <3 Thanks so much for 3.5k!! I love you guys!!!

Warnings: Mentions of quarantine/the virus, but other than that, none??

Word Count: 1.5k

Intro

“Well, it’s confirmed.” Donnie pulled his goggles up onto the top of his head, his brothers looking at him, anticipation in their eyes. “We can’t contract or carry the virus.”

“We’re immune?” Leo checked.

Donnie nodded, typing rapidly into his computer. “Not only that, but we don’t have the ability to infect anybody either. Which means…”

“Yep, I’ll call her.” Raph dialed your number to deliver the good news.

“Hell yeah!!!” Mikey cheered skipping out of the lair.

***

It took about an hour for you to gather all of the things you’d need during quarantine and head down to the lair. The boys were waiting anxiously for your arrival, all of them sad about the circumstances but glad that it meant you got to spend some quality time with them. If there was anything they knew how to do, it was pass the time. After all, they’d basically been quarantined for the better part of fifteen years before they were finally allowed on the surface.

The boys set up a nice little bed for you. It was an air mattress, but Raph had knitted you a big red blanket during some of his time in the hashi, and it was warm and cozy, and Donnie had gathered a bunch of pillows, so pushed up against the wall, it was a perfect little cozy corner for you.

Sure, it wasn’t perfect, but you knew that in the lair, you’d be safe.

Leo x Reader ~ Stress Baking

“Ooh, that smells good. What are you making?” Leo had followed his nose to the kitchen, only to find you sitting on the counter wearing an apron.

“Oreo cheesecake cupcakes.” You replied, looking up at him and smiling, your legs kicking from your spot on the counter. “One of my favorite recipes.”

“You’ve been doing a lot of baking since you got down here. Are you…alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine.” You replied, nodding. “I call this: controlling what you can when things feel out of control.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Stress baking.”

“Yes. Stress baking. Instead of writing my essay for Human Origins.” You shrugged. “I’ll do it when these are done.”

“I keep forgetting you’re still doing school stuff with all this going on.” Leo walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter opposite you, crossing his arms. “That’s rough.”

“It really is. I’m making it work, though. I’m fine. I’m…I’m making it work.”

The oven dinged, so you hopped down from the counter and slipped on your oven mitts, pulling the tray of cupcakes out of the oven. They looked perfect. Now, they just needed to chill in the fridge for a few hours.

“Hang in there, okay?” Leo tilted his head, a concerned look in his blue eyes. “You’ve got us if you need any help with anything. I’m no expert on evolution or anything, but I’m sure Donnie is.”

“I’ll make sure to let you know if I need any help.” You nodded. After you turned the oven off, you turned to Leo and gave him a hug, which he gladly reciprocated, holding you tight in his arms. “Thank you.”

Leo rested his head against yours, pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. “Any time.”

Raph x Reader ~ New Hobbies

“Okay, so stick the needle in. Yep just like that. And then loop the yarn around. Yep, good job. And then…uh…here, let me see what you did…” Raph held up your knitting project, spinning it around to look at it. “I don’t know why it looks like that…”

You’d never seen him so patient before, but when you’d asked him to teach you how to knit, he’d been more than willing. Excited, even.

“Sorry I’m so bad at this…”

“No, yer not bad, believe me, it took me a long time to learn. It just takes practice is all.” Raph reassured you. “Why don’t…Hmm…”

“What?” You chuckled at the focused look on his face as he fixed the mistake you’d made.

Raph handed you the knitting needles and then sat crisscrossed on the floor. He patted his legs, motioning you over. “Come here, shorty, I think I know how to teach you.”

You crawled into his lap and he picked you up and repositioned you so that your back was against his plastron. He positioned your hands correctly, taking your little human hands in his giant green three-fingered ones. He walked you through the motions slowly, sticking the needle into the loop, wrapping the yarn around the needle, making the new loop, and then dropping the old one.

“Ohhhhhhhh that makes sense.” You nodded, everything finally clicking into place. “Could you do that one more time for me?”

“Yep. Like this. In, around, through, and off. In, around, through, off.” He did it a few more times so you could get used to the motion. “Alright, now you try.” He took his hands away, leaving you to do it on your own.

“In…around? Through…” you moved the needles, manipulating the yarn carefully. “Off. Like that?”

“You did it! Good job!”

“Thank you for teaching me!”

Raph hugged you, his arms wrapping around your waist. He leaned forward and kissed your cheek. “Anything for my favorite student.”

Donnie x Reader ~ Bleach and Dye

“Okay, so the box says you shouldn’t leave it on for any longer.” Donnie read the label on the box of bleach for the thirteenth time. “Ready?”

“Yep.” You leaned back in the chair you had pushed against the sink, and Donnie helped rinse the bleach out. Next, he helped you blow-dry it. You looked at your reflection, tilting your head. “I think it’s cute.”

“It’s a good look for you.” Donnie agreed, still uncertain how you’d roped him into this crazy scheme of yours. “Are you sure you want to go further?”

“Yep. I want to be purple.” You slid the little container of dye to him and his eyes widened.

“Well, alright…” Donnie exhaled, shaking his head. He read the instructions on the dye container and then started brushing it onto your hair from the tips to the roots. “Have you ever done this before?”

“Nope. But everyone on TikTok is doing it, so it was about time.” You shrugged, grinning as Donnie very carefully brushed the dye onto your bleached hair.

“I mean, if it makes you feel better with all this going on, then I guess it’s worth a try.”

“That’s my logic exactly.” You grinned and took a sip of your chai latte. You held it up to him so he could take a sip, and he did.

At first, Donnie had been a little squeamish of sharing straws, but since you had been around so much offering him sips of every frozen coffee or iced tea recipe you came up with, it didn’t bother him anymore.

“That’s good. Soymilk?”

“Vanilla soymilk.”

“Mmm, interesting.” He grinned.

The two of you sat around talking for a while before his timer went off and it was time to wash the dye out. He helped you rinse it out once again, drying it off with a blow dryer until finally, you straightened up to look at in the mirror. You squealed, beaming.

“It looks so good!!! Thank you Donnie!!!” You jumped up and latched onto him, your legs wrapped around his hips.

He grinned and grabbed onto your thighs, securing you in place better. “Of course, princess. Glad I could help.”

Mikey x Reader ~ When All Else Fails…Art

“So you take the Ziploc bag and you color on it with the markers you want like this.” You showed him, scribbling a random shape onto the clear plastic with an orange marker. “And then you pick another color, so pink.” You colored some more surrounding the orange blob, but not touching it. “And then I’m adding some yellow.”

“Okay…” Mikey watched intensely, very interested in the art technique you’d found on the internet. He was using some blue and green on his bag, and once you were done with the yellow, he used some of that too. “Now what?”

“And then you dip your fingers into the water and flick it where the marker is.”

“Alright.” Mikey nodded, dipping one giant finger into the water and copying you, flicking water onto the places where the color was.

“And then you mix it around like this.” You smudged the color with your fingertip, smearing it and blending the spots between different colors.

“Okay…” Mikey still wasn’t sure what this was supposed to accomplish, but he did it anyway.

“And then…and this is the cool part. You flip it onto the paper and press down.”

“WOAHHHHHH THAT’S SO COOL!” He exclaimed, spreading the color out on his paper. “Where did you learn how to do this, dudette?”

“On the internet.” You smiled, peeling the bag off of your paper and admiring your pseudo-water color masterpiece. It looked like a sunset. You handed it to Mikey. “For you, sir.”

He held a hand over his heart, gasping. “For ME?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’m gonna frame this and put it on my bunk.” Mikey tackled you in a bear hug, pressing a dozen kisses to your cheek. “Thank you, angelcakes. I love it.”

#tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt imagine #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #donatello x reader #michelangelo x reader #leo x reader #raph x reader #donnie x reader #mikey x reader

1K notes · View notes

wronqness99 · 3 years

Text

It’s You!

This scenario was requested by @usernameloaa I hope you like it!

> About my writing

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: —

Word Count: 1251

Characters: Eunhyuk (Super Junior)/Lee Hyukjae x Fem!Reader

*The image doesn’t belong to me, credits to the owner.*

"I'm going to get some coffee, anyone wanna come?" Kyuhyun questioned retrieving his wallet from his bag when they decided to take a break from practice.

"Yep, I'm going with you," Eunhyuk spoke, jumping up from his sitting position on the ground to get his wallet as well.

The two members walked out of their practice room making their way towards the cafeteria, bumping into their hoobae group Red Velvet on the way.

"Hi Yerim-ah, how are you?" Hyukjae questioned, completely ignoring his own girlfriend's existence. The girl scowled and bowed to Kyuhyun silently before storming off. Yeri called after her bandmate but to no avail, the girl had been hurt by her boyfriend's actions and was getting tired from dealing with such immaturity coming from someone whom she loved and was older than her.

"I'm so sorry, it's been a hard day for us today... We have also been trying on the outfits for the SM Town stage." Yeri giggled nervously. "If you'll excuse me." The younger bowed before hopping her way back to the fitting room.

Kyuhyun looked back at the girl before returning his gaze to his hyung.

"What the hell just happened?" Eunhyuk sighed and turned walking to the SM coffee machine, ignoring Kyuhyun, who followed right behind him.

"We've been arguing." He muttered after a while feeling too bothered and uncomfortable with the situation. The man inserted a coin into the machine and pressed the button for his desired beverage.

"And why is that?" The younger questioned.

"Well, you would understand if you saw the outfits they want them to wear for their stage." The older one stated with an annoyed expression plastered on his face. Kyuhyun chuckled half incredulous.

"You are annoyed because of that? We've been in the industry longer than any other active band in the agency, it's not like you're not aware the artists don't get much of a say when it comes to wardrobe picking."

"Whatever, Y/N has a boyfriend she could at least try to oppose." He muttered through gritted teeth.

"And how do you know she hasn't? Have you at their meetings?" Kyuhyun pointed out making his hyung even more annoyed. Eunhyuk huffed, going back to the practice room without waiting for the maknae.

"Are you serious?" Kyuhyun questioned gobsmacked by the reaction. "Is this what Y/N deals with every day? How old are you Lee Hyukjae-ah?" He screamed at his hyung, laughing as the man rounded the corner and walked faster, getting even more annoyed that his bandmate and friend was siding with his significant other.

~~~~~~

That night he arrived at home exhausted from dance practice. The sight of his girlfriend sitting on the couch of their shared apartment watching a series didn't make him halt for a second when he went to place his belongings on the armchair even to greet her. The man walked straight past her and into the kitchen. The man opened the fridge to get some cold water and was surprised by a lunch box full of jajangmyeon with a yellow sticky note reading 'I love you. Please eat and don't be sick.' - Y/N.

He grabbed the plastic container and stared at it for a couple of seconds before hearing sniffles in the hallway and quick steps making their way up the stairs.

"Fuck" He muttered throwing the container back into the fridge and closing it before running up the stairs and into their room.

When he opened the door he was greeted by Y/N's red and swollen eyes, her arms hugging her knees to her chest.

"How long are we gonna be like this?" The girl questioned, tears running down her face. "Why can't you understand my position when we have the exact same job and go through the exact same things? Because a man showing his abs is alright but if a girl shows a little more skin it's a crime and a sin she'll never be forgiven for?"

"The situation here, Y/N, is that you have a boyfriend."

"Well, you have a girlfriend, too. Whom you aren't respecting if I'm honest. Dammit Hyukjae, have I ever given you reasons not to trust me? Have I ever disrespected you in any kind of way? If I have please enlighten me because it honestly went past me." The girl sniffed, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands and looking back at the male.

"No, that's not it at all. I just don't like MY girlfriend showing skin to others." The girl shook her head in defeat as she heard her boyfriend's words.

"You know what? Forget this, Hyukjae." She stated, laying down on the bed and covering herself up as she curled up in a way to try to comfort herself and forget all the mean things she'd heard from her lover's mouth the past couple of days.

Eunhyuk sighed and went to the wardrobe to grab some pj's to change into. Walking to his side of the bed Hyukjae laid down on the bed next to his lover, he couldn't help but feel saddened that they couldn't solve their problem earlier.

Was he being too stubborn?

The man sighed, inching closer to the girl and hugging her from the back, feeling her sleeping self subconsciously curl herself into his body a little more. He chuckled softly before pressing a kiss to the back of her neck and allowing himself to fall into a deep sleep.

The next day when he awoke, Y/N has already left to get ready for her band's stage which would be the first of the night at SM Town. Hyukjae stretched and rubbed his eyes, finding the courage to get up and get himself ready for the day.

After a refreshing shower and eating some pancakes Y/N had left for him on the kitchen counter, the man left for the venue where he met his members for another round of practice before the real thing happened.

Already in the waiting room backstage being one of the first members to have gotten ready, Hyukjae saw as Y/N and the rest of Red Velvet walked to position themselves for their entree. It was unexpected to the man when his girlfriend stopped in front of him and tiptoed, holding his cheeks roughly and attacking his lips in a kiss.

"Oppa, I want you to understand this very well: Others can look or stare all they want because only you get to touch. It's you, only you, can't you see that?" She questioned, looking him dead in the eyes. Hyukjae melted hearing her words and stole another kiss before hugging her tightly in a silent 'good luck' wish.

"I fucking love you so much, Y/N. I can't wait for us to get home tonight." He whispered in her ear so no one could hear them. The girl laughed and bit his bottom lip slightly before placing one last kiss on his cheek before letting go of him.

"I have to go now, wish me good luck!" She said excitedly.

"Good luck baby and I'm sorry." The man said feeling sad about the way he had behaved and what he'd put her through in those few days. Y/N smiled and shook her head, caressing his cheek and waving goodbye to his members, before running to her members as her boyfriend looked at her proudly standing right where she left him.

"She has you whipped," Ryeowook laughed. Hyukjae smiled.

"She really does and I wouldn't have it any other way."

MASTERLIST

88 notes · View notes

collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

Streetlight - JJ Maybank

Request: Could you do a reader x jj where she’s a shy bookworm kook with no friends, jj is doing some work at her house and she finds him intimidating, he’s curious about her. He sees her getting picked on somewhere by some other kooks and he protects her somehow and comforts her. I dunno something like that, your so good at writing I know you can make this so much better that how I explained it ahah

Outer Banks Masterlist

☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎

The compromise was one night out doing normal teenage things to reassure your parents that you had friends and weren’t missing out on all the fun summer stuff people were supposedly doing this time of year and you could have the Grove Press first edition unrevised version of On The Road that someone was selling on ebay. It was a necessity, a collectible item that you would treasure for the rest of your life and it would look amazing in the glass cabinet that you’d gotten from ikea at the beginning of the year.

“One party and you can have the book.”

“I hate kook parties,” you tried to reason, eyes drifting passed your dad to the boy cutting your lawn. It was stupid and never in a million lightyears would anything ever happen but you had the smallest, tiniest, barely there crush on JJ Maybank, the pogue your dad hired to do odd jobs all summer. Clean the pool, mow the lawn, wash the cars, wash the boat, service the boat, service the cars, whatever he needed done JJ did it. For an extremely good deal, your dad definitely paid better than most. But you’d gotten used to seeing JJ around all summer. You hadn’t spoken to him but you knew of him and his friends. They threw epic parties.

“It’ll be fun.” Your dad replied.

The mower cut and JJ stopped to wipe his face on the shirt he’d taken off and hung over the handle of the mower. When he looked over your eyes went wide and you turned your attention back to your dad to pretend you weren’t just staring.

“It won’t be fun but fine.” You agreed. It was the only way to get that book and you wanted that book. The agreement was in place and your dad, satisfied with your decision to give into his compromise, switched gears from hassling you to focusing on lunch. He’d been claiming for the passed three days that he was in the mood for something pizza related but now he was debating between frozen pepperoni or frozen plain.

“Thoughts?” He asked, standing in front of the fridge, holding the two pizza boxes in hand.

You shrugged, “I don’t know, whatever you want?” You were working your way through a Whole Foods fruit salad and trying to organize your planner for the upcoming school year despite it only being the beginning of August.

Your dad nodded, laying them both down on the counter and turning the oven on to preheat before walking over to the French doors that lead out to the backyard.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting a second opinion.” He replied. He opened the door and shouted for JJ over the hum of the motor. When it finally cut out JJ turned to look at him, slightly startled.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got some pizza for lunch, you want some?”

“Uh sure, is that okay?”

“Of course, I’m offering it.” Your dad replied, “should be a few more minutes, finish up and come on in.” He let the door close behind him as he walked back into the kitchen. You had turned in your seat to watch and you followed your dad’s movements back to the oven to put the pizzas in. “What? You complain about ‘kooks’, you don’t like those kids either.”

“No. I didn’t say anything.”

“He seems like a nice kid.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“He’s obviously not sitting at home alone all summer either.”

“I’m not sure what you want from me.” You replied, “don’t get in trouble but also you don’t have enough friends so find some’.”

“I just think you’re a great kid and people don’t get to see that. They think you’re snobby and rude when you don’t talk to them.”

“I’m not.” You insisted. You didn’t have a problem with JJ or his friends. It wasn’t that you didn’t talk to them because you thought you were above them. You just didn’t like talking to people.

“They don’t know that.”

“What happened to not catering to other people and their perception of me?”

“An important rule…one you’ve clearly mastered sitting here doing arts & crafts while other kids your age have jobs or go hang out with friends.” He pointed out.

“It’s my day planner. Sue me for wanting it to look nice.” You huffed.

The door opened and both of you looked over as JJ came in. You turned back around quickly and refocused your attention on copying out the class schedule you’d been emailed that morning to avoid looking at a shirtless JJ as your dad pointed him toward the bathroom to clean up for lunch.

“Schedule in being more sociable.” He teased.

“You’re so funny.”

JJ came back into the room and you sucked in a breath, already feeling like you were starting to clam up with him so close to you. Especially when he sat down beside you at the island. You pushed the plastic container of fruit more toward him, avoiding eye contact as you spoke.

“Fruit?” Not the most astounding of questions but you couldn’t help it, he always made you nervous.

The kook party was as awful as you had imagined it being in your head. People you suffered through at school crowded in the first floor of someone’s house while music blared through surround-sound speakers. The party overflowed to the pool and you managed to find a quiet spot away from everyone, sitting on a lounger reading by the light of a tiki torch that was a hazard without the gathering of rowdy, drunk, teens. Not everyone was a kook, you’d spotted JJ and his friends almost instantly, obviously here because of Sarah and Kiara but you ignored all of them in favour of finishing the book you’d been working your way through for the last week and a half. An biographical look at the life of JD Salinger through the eyes of his daughter, you’d been more than thrilled when you managed it find it at the little bookshop on the island. Better than having to go to the mainland and suffer through the idiots that worked at the only Barnes & Noble in a 25 mile radius. You’d been making headway too when the book was pulled out of your hands and someone yanked you out of your seat.

“Hey! Give me that back!” You tried to pull away from the person holding you but you couldn’t get loose. As you struggled Scarlett flipped through the first couple of pages in the book, pretending to read it.

“What is this dumb trash anyway? Dreamcatcher?” She laughed.

“Just give it back Scarlett!” You insisted, pulling against her boyfriend once more. Other kooks had gotten wind of what was happening and stopped to watch.

“You shouldn’t bring books anyway…accidents are bound to happen.” She said, grabbing a few pages in her hands and ripping them out, watching as they fell to the ground.

“Stop! Seriously, please stop.” You nearly cried as she continued to rip pieces of the book out.

A small break in the crowd had JJ pushing through with his friends to see what the commotion was. If he was being honest he didn’t know you very well despite working for your dad all summer. He had seen you around and you’d always been polite to him but never quite friendly. Kiara had told him you were shy though, and that you hated stuff like parties or crowds. This was torture already but now you were standing at the poolside, Scarlett’s boyfriend holding your arms so you couldn’t get away as Scarlett tossed the book into the pool.

“No! Fuck, are you kidding me!” You yanked against Scarlett’s boyfriend and he laughed.

“You wanna go in too?” He taunted, “go get it.” And he shoved you forward, both of them laughing as you tripped and fell into the pool.

JJ ran over without thinking, pulling off his shirt and jumping in the water. He grabbed your waist, helping you to the side of the pool as you sputtered out breaths, too upset by the whole ordeal that you hadn’t been able to focus on actually swimming. Kiara and John B helped you out of the pool while Sarah grabbed a towel for you, wrapping it around your shoulders as you sat on the edge with your legs still in the water.

Despite the warmth of the summer night you were shaking from the sudden chill that came from being wet. JJ pulled himself up on the concrete beside you, pulling his boots off and tossing them behind him before placing a hand on your back, rubbing up and down.

“Are you okay?” Sarah asked, kneeling down beside you.

You nodded, “I’ll be fine. Thanks, but I should go.”

As you started to stand up JJ stood too, grabbing his t-shirt and boots, casting one last look at the unsalvageable book Scarlett had tossed into the pool. “Let me walk you back?”

“You don’t have to, you should stay and enjoy the party.”

“I don’t want you walking home alone. It’s already pretty late.” He reasoned. It was already dark and your house was three blocks away. Not a bad walk but you were still soaked from the pool and wouldn’t hate the company, even if you did get tongue tied whenever JJ was around.

“Okay.”

You kept the towel around your shoulders as JJ led you away from the party, Scarlett shouting after you about your taste in pogues and Sarah telling her off. You were too in your head to say much even as you got away from the party and the blaring music and the crowded rooms. Walking through the streets with JJ, both of you barefoot and carrying your shoes. Soaked still from the pool, he had his shirt draped over one shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?” JJ asked, glanced over at you.

“You having to dive in and get me out of the pool and walk me home. I ruined your night.”

He shrugged, “not really a fan of kook parties anyway, Sarah wanted to go so…”

You watched as he pulled a tin out of his pocket, rattling it for a moment before opening it up and smiling, holding it so you could see the blunts rolled up in colourful paper, a lighter and juul wedged in next to them. “Are they dry?”

“Yeah, this thing is waterproof. Bought it last year cause I always forget to empty my pockets when I surf.”

“Well I’m sure all the fish are happy. Probably trippin’ out.”

JJ laughed at the joke as he picked out a blunt and lit it up, “you want some?”

“No, I don’t smoke.”

“Do you care if I do?”

You shook your head. You were almost home anyway, then he could leave. Or were you supposed to ask him to stick around? Offer him some clothes from your dad and dry his wet shorts since he’d been nice enough to dive into the pool after you.

“So…you and Scarlett aren’t exactly friends huh?”

“I’m not exactly friends with a lot of people, Scarlett is just one of many.” You replied. “I was only there tonight cause my dad made me go…he says I need to socialise more.”

“You don’t really go out much.”

“I obviously have a good reason.” You said, looking down at your wet clothes.

“Not everyone’s like Scarlett.” He replied, blowing out smoke as he talked. “We’re going on the boat tomorrow, you should come.”

“Maybe.”

“I’d like it if you did.” He admitted, shrugging his shoulders in attempted indifference.

“Okay, but I’ll think I’ll stick to not swimming, if it’s all the same to you.”

Taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @lavenderxraindrops @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @hvitost @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @mirjanak @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @celestialmaybank @mybnkjj @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @99sxuxii @oh-annaa @katiaw2 @aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @justkeepdreamingswift @allie-mcginn @pcterparxer @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom @talksoprettyjjx @jolomez @timotaychalabae

414 notes · View notes

johannstutt413 · 3 years

Text

(requested by calligomiles)

“Hmm. Yeah, that would look nice…” Utage scratched the side of her head with the back of her pen. “Hey, Orchid? Know anyone who could use a makeover? I need someone to try something for me.”

“Don’t want to be your own guinea pig? There’s a couple people I can think of off the top of my head.” The Liberi did not elaborate as she continued typing a resume-

-until the Nue’s demonic grin was in front of her. “You were saying?”

“Ack! Don’t scare me like that. I’ll text you the list.” She shook her head. “Was that really necessary?”

“It worked, didn’t it? Hey, Aak. Need something?” The intimidating teen left Orchid’s desk for the front door, passing the Feline as she did.

He shrugged. “Thought I heard someone call for me.”

“Nah, that was just Orchid freaking out.” The Nue patted him on the shoulder as she carried on, slipping her phone out of her pocket to look at the list. ‘Now, let’s go find a victim~’

“...Scary.” The “Medic” shook his head.

The Liberi nodded. “That’s the word, alright. Actually, while you’re here, Aak, maybe you can help me with something...”

Unaware of the scheming going on in HR, Utage started down Orchid’s list of less-than-fashionable; the first few were male Operators, so not useful to her at all, but seventh on the list was a familiar name who was plenty cute already. For what the trendsetter had in mind, though, Gummy was the perfect person to help her, and she was such a good egg, there was no way she’d say no, so the Nue set a course for the cafeteria and-

-and found the Ursus away, for some reason. “Hey, Bagpipe, is Gummy not here today?”

“Takin’ a personal day, Doctor’s orders,” the Vouivre replied, elbow-deep in potato peelings. “Need her for some’n?”

“Wanted to see if she’d try something for me. While I’m here, though, that’s au gratin, right? Can I get a double serving of that?”

Armed with a plastic container of one of Bagpipe’s special dishes, Utage left the cafeteria and walked into the Command Center, where the rest of the USSG were working. “Hey, you girls know where Gummy’s place is, right? Need to ask her something.”

“Do you, now?” Istina spun around in her office chair and glanced up from her book, sitting at a control panel with big red buttons on it. “General?”

“You can’t look it up in the Directory?” Zima’s eyes remained on the screen in front of her-

-which gave her a perfect view of the Nue’s expression in the reflection. ‘I’m a busy woman, Sonya. Where’s Rada?’

“318B, second tier, left entrance, three doors down.” Intermixed with images of Peterheim flashing in front of her was a sense of impending doom; it was enough to shake the General to her core. “I wasn’t even looking directly at her...”

“Thank you, General.” The trendsetter smiled to herself as she turned to leave; she didn’t have to say a word.

Getting to that spot of Rhodes Island from the Command Center was rather difficult, Utage quickly discovered, but with her destination set, there was nothing to deter her. She located the apartment - partially because of the cutesy logo on the door that matched the one Gummy used on her summer stand - and knocked on the door. “Hey, Gummy?”

“Eh?” Rada hopped up from the couch and answered her door. “Utage? Did the Doctor say I could come out?”

“Come out? Of your room? I thought you were told to take a day off, not put on house arrest.” All this work for her information to potentially be off? She wasn’t a happy camper.

The chef shook her head. “No, I kinda did that to myself. You need something, though?”

“Kinda. Wanna come buy clothes with me? There’s this new style I can’t wear that I think would look great on you.”

“Really?” She skipped over to her dining room table to get her purse. “Sure! I haven’t gotten new clothes in forever!”

‘Quest Complete’ music began playing in the back of Utage’s mind. “Great. Actually, before we go...can I take a nap on your couch?”

“Oh, sure, if you need to! I can get you some water?” Rada set her purse back down.

“Thanks.” The Nue staggered in, closed the door behind her, and collapsed onto Gummy’s couch face-first. “G’night...”

A couple hours passed; eventually, the trendsetter woke up to the smell of frying sausage and Ursus cursing. Still not fully aware of her surroundings, she called out, “Gummy? You okay?”

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to wake you up until dinner was ready. Thanks for bringing the potatoes, by the way - they’ll make a great side!”

“Sure, sure.” Wait a minute. As her senses recollected, Utage first sat up, then stood up and made her way to the kitchen. “You’re making dinner?”

Rada beamed at her from her position by the stove. “You know what they say - one good turn deserves another! Besides, the girls told me how long you’ve been trying to find me, so...”

“They did? How did they know? I only got the directions from Zima about an hour before I came here.” The Nue leaned against a counter by the fridge, looking over her nails while she waited.

“Oh, it was more than them.” The chef giggled. “Bagpipe asked Matterhorn to text me, so I knew you were coming before I ate lunch. Honestly, I wasn’t sure why you were looking for me until you said, but I’m glad you came!”

The trendsetter smiled at her, momentarily forgetting the effect that had on most people. “Fantasti- shit, sorry.”

“N-no, it’s fine, it’s fine!” Gummy wasn’t quite capable of catching the incoming fear response in time, and her face said it all.

“...I wish I was cute like you, sometimes.” The Nue sighed. “I was talking to the Doctor the other day, and they said I’m as scary as six people put together when I’m working.”

The Ursus had to agree with that, admittedly. “But you’re not always working.”

“Heh. Thanks.”

“W-what I meant was I- oh, that’s definitely done by now.” Rada turned off the stove, hoping it’d help her cool down. Why was it so hot all the sudden? “Everyone knows you’re beautiful, don’t they?”

Utage shrugged. “They ask me for advice, but I don’t hear it very often.”

“Oh. W-well, you know where to find me now, so if you ever need to hear it...” First the room started heating up, and now the light was getting brighter. Maybe she should call someone in Engineering about this stuff-

“You mean it?” The Nue’s eyes lit up, the smile returned, and the distance between them shrunk. “I don’t scare you too much?”

Gummy swallowed. “No?”

“You’re the best.” The trendsetter saw that everything was ready, and she could see where the chef kept her plates, so she figured she’d help set the table...which meant closing in further.

‘Eep!’ Luckily, the Ursus kept that from slipping out. “Wh-why is she coming over here? Is she coming over for a hug? I-i mean, it...it would be nice.”

As the Nue would have reached to grab a plate, Rada went for the hug that she was sure was coming, and learned two things in the process. Utage felt amazing to hug - the chef had slept on mattresses that were less plush than her.

Maybe more importantly, though, there was one expression she had that was undeniably cute: the look on her face as she was ambush-embraced by Gummy, of all people, which stuck as she happily returned the attention.

#arknights #arknights fic #utage (arknights)#gummy (arknights)#i can see a couple sequels to this #utage teaching gummy to be scarier #that'd be fun

23 notes · View notes

1rintooru · 3 years

Text

When Life Gives You Lemons

Pairing: post-timeskip Bokuto Kotaro x fem! reader (its p gender neutral with a few exceptions)

Themes: fluff, fluff and more fluff

Word count: 2020 one-shot

Warnings: light swearing - that's it!

Summary: just you and bokuto remembering how you first met and started dating. And Bokuto being Bokuto 💖💫

“Do you remember our first date?”

You cocked an eyebrow at his question and shook your head incredulously, “Kou, how could I ever forget that?”

“I’ll never forget that face; you looked so beautiful.”

You smiled at the thought. You remembered that night so vividly as if it were only yesterday. All you wanted to do was dash in and out of the store to collect a few missing groceries. It had been pouring all day and within the short time you were outside, the rain had managed to soak through your paper bags, causing your groceries to rip through the softened paper. You were so upset that you ended up hastily tossing your individual groceries into the backseat of your car before getting in and speeding off.

“And I remember yours,” you chuckled, “that stupid, dumb face that looked right back at me.”

You had a hit a series of red lights – normally annoying you – but the downpour had gotten increasingly aggressive on your drive home. Your car felt like it was vibrating from the fat raindrops that hit the window and roof. You were mindlessly listening to the radio when a loud thump sounded from the hood of your car. Your eyes darted to the sound and you just barely caught a glimpse of white-gray hair and golden eyes staring at you like a deer in the headlights before quickly vanishing as the person rolled off the side. You shrieked and hopped out, mentally preparing yourself for the worst, only to see a young man lying on the road, illuminated by your blinding headlights.

“I really though I hit you…”

“Baby, you were at a red light. I had this all planned out,” Bokuto grinned smugly, then scratched his chin contemplatively. “Besides, how else was I supposed to catch up to you!”

He had plastic fruit net entangled in his fingers but you couldn’t quite make out what was within it. Once his eyes met yours his shocked expression was replaced with a confident boyish grin. He held up his bag, pointing it towards you.

“And then you had the nerve to say something as dumb as ‘Uh, you forgot your lemons!’”

“And you were all like, ‘Oh, you’re my hero! You’re so sweet. And handsome too!”

You rolled your eyes, trying – and failing – to stifle a giggle. “I did not say that!”

At the time, of course, you were beyond annoyed. You had barked a couple of insults and promptly snatched the lemons from him before you stomped back into your car. When you arrived home, you threw the fruit into the fridge before changing into a pair of dry clothes. You had managed to calm your nerves but the man from before never fully left your mind. The entire time you tore into him, a goofy smile was plastered on his face. Despite that, he was admittedly quite attractive. His wet hair stuck to the sides of his face, his drenched clothing clung to his body, contouring his muscular physique and he looked almost angelic with the headlights reflecting off his glistening skin.

He cleared his throat,” A couple of days went by, so I thought you didn’t even notice…”

And you almost didn’t. A few days passed and you ended up forgetting about the incident and the lemons altogether until one evening you stood in your kitchen wondering what to eat. You had raided your cabinets and scanned your pantry, but it wasn’t until you opened the fridge for a second time that you noticed the lemons from earlier, still safely contained in their netting. Suspicion began to bubble within you as you had started to realize something.

“I didn’t even buy lemons in the first place…” your voice trailed off.

In the commotion of that night, you didn’t even think twice about what you had snatched from the man. You were cold, wet, hungry and just had a lunatic jump in front of your non-moving vehicle; the last thing you were worried about were the intentions behind some fruit. You debated whether or not you should have simply thrown them away entirely, but you noticed something different about one of the lemons. You fished it out of the net and realized what you had seen earlier. You could just barely make out the digits that were scribbled in thick black marker – most likely written in a hurry – with his name underneath, followed by a crude smiley face.

Bokuto

Call me :)

You remembered how you rolled your eyes upon seeing that. ‘Who did he think he was?’ you thought. Despite your exasperation, something held you back from throwing away his eccentric proposal and to your own surprise, you ended up texting Bokuto that very night.

Your message finally reached him in the early hours of the morning. Bokuto instantly replied back the moment he saw his screen light up. In all of your retellings of the story, he always omitted just how anxious he’d become the past few days. You lived in his head rent free and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t evict you from his mind. Did his master plan really fail him? What if you didn’t even like lemons? Maybe he should’ve taken his shirt off instead. Better yet, he should’ve spiked your car with a volleyball to show off how athletic he was. He really would’ve loved to see you watch him during his matches. He pouted and let out a defeated sigh since he finally understood what it was like for Akaashi when he would overthink.

Your first message way terse and dry but it gave Bokuto enough serotonin for him to snap out of his slump. You ended up texting each other until someone caved and fell asleep, the rays of the rising sun already peeking through your blinds. Texting quickly turned to daily phone calls and that eventually escalated to the two of you constantly facetiming each other. At some point, without you fully realizing, Bokuto had turned into a quasi-roommate – always inviting himself in with the excuse that he didn’t know how to cook for himself. (You came to learn that this was very, very true).

You hadn’t even realized how lonely you’d felt before you met Bokuto, so you wholeheartedly enjoyed being able to see him all the time. However, what you didn’t enjoy was seeing him walk behind you through the monitor of one of your zoom meetings, with nothing but his boxers hanging loosely from his waist. You immediately sprung from your chair, shouting profanities and demanding he leave. The entire time he just smiled at you bashfully, shifting his weight uncomfortably and once you looked down, you finally understood why. You had forgotten that you only got dressed from the waist up – just a pair of barely-there panties prevented you from mooning your co-workers. Needless to say, your colleagues never let you forget you and Bokuto’s peepshow.

“It really was never a dull moment,” you smiled fondly, your mind flooding with memories of all the dates and silly adventures you shared together on a whim.

Bokuto hummed agreeingly, “So, when did you finally know?”

“Know what?”

“Well, you know… when did it feel like love for you?”

That was a good question – you hadn’t really put too much thought into it. A relationship with Bokuto was like having a tidal wave of love and affection hit you. All the time. At first, you tried to resist his efforts in order to protect yourself from getting hurt – turns out, he was the one who needed protecting. He had a knack of getting himself into trouble or diving head-first into something without realizing the risks or consequences. The time he dragged you to an annual food-fair on the boardwalk immediately popped to mind. He had begged you for months to take you there on a date. Once you finally gave in, his face lit up like a small child’s on Christmas and it stayed that way for the entire day while you both tried food from all the different food vendors. You’d both reached your limit but unlike you, Bokuto continued to scarf down food like there was no tomorrow – you suspected this was just another way for him to show off. The only reason he did stop was because the vendors had started to close their stalls and by that point, he had started to realize the error of his ways. The rosiness of his cheeks had paled as he hunched over clinging to his stomach, pain written clearly on his face. ‘I told you so’, you said, already digging through your purse for pain medication. He held up a hand, effectively stopping you, ‘Don’t worry babe, I’ll swim off the pain.’

Before you could even argue, he had already made a run for it, beelining towards the ocean. You chased after him, only catching up with him once you were both neck-deep in the water. You tried to pull him out, but it ended up with you both playfighting instead. Every time you’d aggressively splash him, he would throw you into the air in retaliation and this went on until you were completely exhausted and he was complaining about the saltwater burning his eyes.

You remembered distinctly how your wet shoes squeaked as you walked along the boardwalk. You were glad the life had returned back to Bokuto’s cheeks, even though his hair was disarray and his eyes completely bloodshot. He had an arm twined around the small of your waist and despite his best efforts to hide it – you could feel him shiver underneath his drenched clothes. Someone once told you how your favorite things about your partner would eventually be the same things you come to resent them for. When you looked up at your boyfriend, you couldn’t have disagreed more. Every time you passed a streetlight his features would illuminate – reminiscent of how you saw him for the first time. You met each other through his idiotic plan and you’d be damned if you if you were ever going to miss out on these chaotic adventures together.

Your attention turned back to Bokuto, staring at you fondly through the monitor.

“I guess I just always knew,” you said with a coy smile.

“C’mon that’s not a real answer!” he whined, but even through the pixelated screen you can tell he was hiding a grin.

“Well, answer me this instead, Kou,” your voice quickly turned serious, “when will I get to see you again?”

Bokuto leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms before finally resting his hands behind his head.

“Not long. Besides, you’re lucky enough to see me on TV even when I’m not around,” he grinned mischievously and gave you a wink, making you roll your eyes, “Besides, I uh… I left you something before I left. I hid it behind our junk food stash, I think.”

You raised an eyebrow, but decided to go look without questioning him further. What you found hidden deeply in the nook of your pantry didn’t clear anything up and raised more questions instead.

“Lemonade?” you couldn’t contain your confusion as you held up the can to your camera.

“Read the label.”

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade :)

“I know it’s been tough for you baby, but we’re almost through it. Just a couple more weeks and I’ll be back home. I promise.”

You felt tears threaten to spill over as you read the label again. It was such simple gesture but it truly did encompass your relationship beautifully. Bokuto always had a thing for silly melodramas and goofy sentimentalities. Even after two years you still felt like you were a fresh couple – you never lost the feeling of butterflies in your stomach or the habit of rolling your eyes over his antics. You managed to collect yourself and you couldn’t help but smile when you looked back at him through the screen. He may have been an idiot, but he was your idiot.

“I love you Kou. Don’t keep me waiting.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #bokuto kotaro #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #uuhhm what else do i tag???#ive scrapped this like 3 times already i just need to send it out into the universe </3 #im losing it lmao its 4 am #haikyuu imagines #selfmade

47 notes · View notes

joyful-soul-collector · 3 years

Photo

50 Christmas Ornaments My True Love Gave To Me

Summary: It was Christmastime in the Stark-Rhodes-Potts’ household, with Tony, Rhodey, Pepper, Peter, and Morgan all sitting at the table. Jingle Bells was playing quietly in the background, and each one of them was working on decorating a clear plastic christmas bauble, a growing pile of colorful ornaments in the center of the table.

The Iron Family gets carried away making Christmas ornaments, and Peter talks to his dad about asexuality

Taglist: @phahbiyah @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @clevermuffinalmondpeach @stuck-in-a-fictional-universe @canonismybitch @freckledmountain @hold-our-destiny @not-your-housekeeper98 @misskirkstark @iron-loyalty @skeeter-110 @m3ga1nsp1r3d @nazezdha321 @peterparkerspidgeons @fallenstar07 @baloobird

Let me know if you want to be added/removed! I don’t mind at all either way! Also thank you to @baloobird for beta-reading this for me!

Read on Ao3!

“This was the best idea. Peter, remind me never to doubt you again,” Tony said, gazing at his newly made red and gold Christmas ornament. It was Christmastime in the Stark-Rhodes-Potts’ household, with Tony, Rhodey, Pepper, Peter, and Morgan all sitting at the table. Jingle Bells was playing quietly in the background, and each one of them was working on decorating a clear plastic christmas bauble, a growing pile of colorful ornaments in the center of the table.

“I told you it would be fun!” Peter said with a laugh, carefully pouring a bit of red glitter into his own ornament.

“Told you!” Morgan echoed, despite the fact this activity had been a complete surprise to her and she had told Tony no such thing. Morgan reached forward suddenly, grabbing the white glitter.

“Oh, dear you need to be more careful with that,” Pepper said as Morgan spilled some on the table trying to pour it into her ornament. “Here baby, use the funnel.”

“Finished!” Rhodey said suddenly, nearly startling Peter into flinging glitter everywhere just as Morgan had done. Rhodey held up a bauble that had been painted in three stripes of red, blue, and grey, with “T+R+P=‎⎊” painted in black overtop. It took Peter a moment to realize that the colors were representing each of their Iron Suits, and he said “Awww” along with the rest of the family.

Both Tony and Pepper kissed Rhodey on the cheek, Tony on the left and Pepper on the right, and Peter laughed at the sheepish but adoring smile Rhodey gave them in return. He placed his bauble next to the others and gazed fondly at the colorful pile.

“I think these are my favorite ornaments,” he said with finality.

“Ha! You sure about that? You like them even more than your special War Machine one Pep gave you?” Tony said, an eyebrow raised skeptically.

“He’s a close second of course, but these are my favorite since we made them together as a family,” Rhodey said, grinning happily.

“Aw, you’re extra sappy today, Pops,” Peter teased, putting the top on his ornament, and smiling at the layers of red and white glitter in his candy-cane themed bauble.

“Are you implying that I’m sappy all the time?”

“Not even just implying. You’re sappy. You’re a sappy, mushy, lovey-dovey, man,” Peter said, scrunching his nose at his father, and sticking out his tongue childishly. Rhodey made a mock-offended gasp, and pressed his hand to his chest.

“I’m deeply offended by this. You know I’m not sappy, right Little Mo’?”

“Super sappy,” was all Morgan replied with, clearly more interested in stuffing bits of ribbon in her ornament than she was in the conversation itself. The rest of the family laughed as she continued to fill her bauble, and Tony threw an arm around Rhodey’s shoulders.

“Nah, I think I actually agree with you, Honeybear. These are probably my favorite as well, I can’t believe we never did this before. I almost wish we could make more, we were each only able to make five,” Tony said, looking down at his completed ornaments beside him, a slightly disappointed look on his face. “I had a lot more ideas for what to design.”

“I did too,” Pepper said, looking down at her own baubles, neat and elegant, all themed with the colors of white and gold, unlike the rest of the family, who had gone a bit more wild with their designs.

“Well… who said we’re not allowed to go back to the craft store and get some more?” Peter said tentatively. When all three parents raised an eyebrow he quickly went on. “I mean we have plenty of paint and glitter and ribbon left! We could probably just get some more baubles and have enough supplies to make more--I mean what else are we gonna use this stuff for? Might as well use it up on more ornaments so we don’t waste it, ya know?”

The three adults were now wearing varying convinced facial expressions, though Morgan’s response definitely worked in Peter’s favor.

“Yes! Let’s do it! Pleeeeease???” she said, looking up at them and giving them her best puppy eyes, garnished perfectly with a little sniff.

Peter was grabbing his coat before they even said “yes.”

~~~

“Ya know, I distinctly remember you saying all we had to get was more ornaments, and that we already had enough supplies to make another batch,” Tony said, frowning at Peter, who was gazing at the rows of glitter on the shelf.

“Yeah yeah, I know, but we only got christmas themed colors last time! What if we got something else besides the red, green, white, and blue?”

“Well we got gold and silver too, and a little black--”

“You know what I mean,” Peter groaned with a roll of his eyes. “We could do so much more with some extra colors--Ooh look!” Peter snatched four containers of glitter off the shelf and presented them to Tony. “We could make pride flags! You and me could have personalized asexual pride ornaments!”

Tony sighed at the sight of the bottles.

“Well… that would be cool… I dunno kiddo…” Tony said slowly, pushing his hands in his pockets as he thought.

But Peter suddenly realized what he was doing and his face turned red with embarrassment. He really shouldn’t be asking for things right now, especially when he only wanted these colors because he was feeling a little insecure. That’s not a good enough reason to be spending money on glitter they were never gonna use again.

“I--Um, nevermind, sorry,” Peter said, his hands shaking a little as he reached up to put them back.

“What? No, Peter, I was--”

“There you two are!” Pepper said suddenly, making them both jump and turn in her direction. She made her way over, Rhodey and Morgan trailing behind. “What’re you doing over here?”

“Well the kid’s twisting my arm into getting us some pretty ace glitter,” Tony responded, and Pepper glanced at the bottles Peter was still holding. Peter grimaced inwardly, wishing Tony hadn’t said anything. He didn’t need Pepper to explain to him they can’t just buy whatever he wants just because he’s a little upset.

But she wasn’t angry with him. She snorted, rolling her eyes at Tony’s pun.

“Well if you two get your pride flag then I want mine too,” she said, reaching over and grabbing some pink, purple, and blue bottles, the colors of the bisexual flag, and throwing them in the basket with the pack of ornaments. The knot of nervousness that had formed in Peter’s chest instantly unraveled, and he suddenly felt a lot more at ease about putting his own bottles of glitter in the basket.

“Hey don’t forget mine!” Rhodey said, reaching for the pink, yellow, and blue bottles, the pansexual pride flag, and putting them in too.

“Oh, you guys need the polyamorous flag too!” Peter chirped, snagging the blue, red, and black bottles of glitter. “We can use the gold paint back at home to put the pi symbol on it too!”

All three parents smiled warmly at him, and Rhodey reached forward to ruffle his hair affectionately. Peter remembered when Pepper and Tony had first started dating Rhodey, they’d been so nervous to tell him because they were scared he wouldn’t like it. Peter was only about ten when they told him, and he could tell they had been very worried. Peter colored a picture of the three of them holding hands the next day, and hung it up on the fridge. He found out later that Tony had given it to Rhodey, and Rhodey keeps it in his wallet now, taking it everywhere he goes. And when Rhodey eventually moved in and got married to Tony and Pepper, Peter was extra enthusiastic in helping him get settled, to make sure he felt welcome.

Peter’s always done his best to make sure his parents knew he loved them, and accepted them just the way they were.

But Peter was suddenly snapped out of his memories by Tony’s voice.

“But what about Little Mo’? We can’t have her feel left out!” he said, gazing down his daughter by his feet. But Morgan suddenly held up a large colorful bag, showing off the contents to her fathers, mother, and brother.

“Pom poms!” she squeaked happily. The bag was filled with hundreds of colorful pom poms of varying sizes, some of which were definitely too big to force into the ornaments, but Peter knew that wouldn’t stop Little Mo’ from trying.

“Oh yes, you forgot, Dad,” Peter said, scooping up his little sister and resting her on his hip. “The ‘P’ in the acronym doesn’t just stand for Pansexual and Polyamorous, it also stands for Pom Poms.”

“Oh yes, that’s the new one isn’t it?” Tony said with a snort, now sorting through the glitter in the basket to get rid of repeated colors.

“Yup. Maybe I can get MJ to design a pride flag for it,” Peter said with a smirk.

“I’m sure she would do so happily,” Pepper said, taking the pom poms from Morgan to put them in the basket, and kissing Morgan's head. “Now why don’t you and your Dad get back to the car and buckle Morgan in while your Papa and I get everything checked out?”

A few minutes later Peter walked out of the store with his sister and dad, and Tony was buckling Morgan in her carseat.

“Snug bug?” Tony asked her as he adjusted the straps of her seat.

“Snug bug,” Morgan confirmed with a giggle. Tony smiled and booped her nose, before drawing out his phone and opening up a game.

“Wanna play on Daddy’s phone?” he said, handing it to her and helping her put in the headphones. Then Tony moved back up to sit in the middle row of the van, where Peter was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You never let me play with your phone when I was little,” he said bluntly. “I’m sensing a favorite child has been chosen.”

“Pfft, is that another one of your spidey powers? Your Spidey Sense get upgraded along with your suit?” Tony asked with a roll of his eyes. “No, I just needed her to be distracted.”

“What? Why?” Peter asked with a frown.

“Well, it seems my other bug isn’t so snug,” Tony said, looking at Peter pointedly.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“What’s up kiddo? You seemed a little worried back there,” he said.

“I did? When?” Peter said, hoping to wiggle his way out of the conversation somehow, stall until his Mom and Papa got back.

“When you were asking about if you could get the ace flag colors. You know I was joking right? I wasn’t actually considering saying no to you, I want you to be able to show your pride however you like,” he said gently. It seems Peter wouldn’t be able to get out of this one.

“No, yeah I know that, it… wasn’t you I was worried about,” Peter said with a sigh. “Part of it I guess was uh, well you know how I get guilty asking for things. I didn’t want to make you spend money on me.”

“Ya know for the child of a billionaire you sure worry about money a lot,” Tony said with a smirk. “I don’t mind spending money on you. You’re important to me, and I have the ability to do it, so I like to. But, you already know that, and I have a feeling the money wasn’t the only thing bothering you. Am I right?”

Peter’s face turned even redder and he glanced out the window to see if his Mom and Papa had come to save the day.

No such luck.

“I uh… Flash said something the other day. Bothered me,” Peter muttered.

“What did he say, kiddo?” Tony said, reaching over to squeeze Peter’s hand.

“…he said nobody would ever want to date someone who was asexual like me. That no one would wanna be in a relationship with someone who wouldn’t, uh--” he glanced at Morgan to make sure her earbuds were still in, “--‘give them any’.”

Peter looked down and picked at a loose thread on his jeans, avoiding his father’s gaze.

“Oh Peter, I’m sorry. That’s not true, there are plenty of people who will love you just the way you are,” Tony said, smoothing a thumb over Peter’s knuckles.

“Yeah, I mean I-I know that in the back of my mind--I mean you’ve got two people who love you, and you’re ace like me, so--so I mean I’m sure I’ll find at least one person, it’s just--” Peter broke off with a sigh. “What if… What if I find someone who’s okay with me being ace, but they’re not nice in other ways? What if there’s only one person who’s okay with me being ace, and it turns out they like, I dunno, hate that I’m Spider-Man? Or they’re even abusive or something? What if the only person who will ever like me is someone who’s bad?”

“Peter, nobody really ever has just one person they’re compatible with. I learned that when I fell in love with Rhodey,” Tony said with a soft smile. “There’s going to be more than one person who’s okay with your asexuality, just like there will be more than one who isn’t. There will be people who are okay with it but are terrible in other ways, just as there will be people who aren’t okay with it but are amazing in other ways.

“And of course, that means there will be people who are just bad for you overall. People who aren’t okay with your sexuality and are awful. But that means there will also be the opposite! There will be people who will be fine with your asexuality, and are also kind, and funny, and will have qualities you love.

“Humans are complex, you’ll never meet one that’s exactly the same as the other, and yet we have the ability to love so many different people, in so many different ways. It’s part of why I fell in love with both Pepper and Rhodey. I love how unique they are.

“Like you said: two people who are so different from each other, and yet they both fell in love with an asexual person like me. And neither of them are terrible, obviously,” Tony said, and Peter laughed, finally looking up at him. Tony smiled and gave his hand a final squeeze. “Basically, of the hundreds of humans your age in New York, I doubt there’s only one person who would be good for you, and even less likely that the only people willing to date you are abusive and awful. It mathematically doesn’t make sense. Throw in the fact that you’re the kindest kid I’ve ever met, and I doubt there’s an asexual-accepting human in the world who wouldn’t wanna date you.”

Peter laughed again, leaning back on the headrest as his chest filled with relief.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “I dunno what I’d do without you to help me with all this stuff.”

“Of course, kiddo. It’s what Dads are for.”

~~~

An hour later, Peter and his family were finishing up making the last of their baubles, Peter carefully painting the Spider-Man logo on his glittery asexual pride ornament. He was feeling a lot better after the talk with Tony, like a weight had been lifted off him. It even made painting a little easier, despite the fact he was awful at painting.

Rhodey had finished about half an hour earlier, now in the kitchen making cookies while Pepper and Morgan watched Klaus in the living room. The smell of Rhodey’s cookies wafted into the dining room where Peter and Tony were still working. Peter snapped up and sniffed the air, drinking in the scent of chocolate, butter, and sugar, the signature smell of Rhodey’s chocolate chip cookies.

Peter’s stomach gave a deep growl at the scent, whining miserably about how empty it was.

“Wow, someone’s hungry,” Tony said, glancing at Peter’s middle with a smirk.

“I knoooow,” Peter groaned, wrapping an arm around his belly. “I was so distracted by the ornaments I forgot to have a snack when we got home. Dumb super metabolism, I’m gonna starve to death before those cookies get out of the oven.”

“Well don’t do that,” Rhodey said, walking in with a plate piled high with cookies. “Guess you were so distracted you didn’t hear the timer go off either, huh?”

Peter wasn’t listening though. He’d already put his ornament down to let the paint dry and was making grabby-hands at the plate, practically drooling.

“Alright alright, calm down, don’t eat too fast either, you’ll give yourself a tummy ache,” Rhodey said, handing him the cookies. Peter scoffed as he stuffed a cookie in his mouth.

“I’m fifteen, I don’t get ‘tummy aches’,” Peter said through his mouthful of cookie.

“Tell that to whoever got a tummy ache from eating a whole solid chocolate santa in five minutes last week on a dare from Ned,” Rhodey muttered as Peter stuffed more cookies in his mouth.

“That was not a ‘tummy ache’, that was Extreme Christmas Celebrating.”

“It was a tummy ache. You said ‘I have a tummy ache.’”

“I did not--”

“Uhh, guys?” Tony suddenly interrupted. Peter and Rhodey looked at him, and Pepper glanced back from her position on the couch.

“Yeah?” they all said.

“I uh… I think we have fifty ornaments here,” he said, staring wide-eyed at the pile. Peter blinked.

No, no way, they didn’t make that many.

“You sure you didn’t miscount?” Rhodey said, looking at the pile more closely himself.

“Oh I’m sure. There’s fifty ornaments here. We made fifty ornaments,” Tony said.

“That can’t be right, each of us only made… only made…” Peter had been about to say five, but realized that was before they bought the second batch of ornaments. If they made five, and then each made another five…

“Ten. There’s five of us and we each made ten ornaments,” Pepper said in disbelief. “How did we not realize we’d be making ten each? Fifty ornaments?”

They all stared at the pile in silence for a few moments.

“Well, I guess the tree will be a bit crowded this year,” Peter said, taking another bite of cookie. They all laughed, then Rhodey, Tony, and Peter, settled on the couch next to Pepper and Morgan to finish the rest of the movie with them.

Later that day when Peter had a bellyful of cookies, they decorated the tree with their new ornaments, as well as the ones dragged out from the boxes in the garage. And while it was a bit crowded like Peter had predicted, it was the best one they’d ever had, with their pride ornaments glittering in the firelight, and Morgan’s pom pom baubles adding the perfect sprinkling of color to the green branches.

Peter had never seen a more perfect tree.

74 notes · View notes

pendraegon · 3 years

Note

saw ur post abt bastani, and got reminded of my bf !!! hes half iranian and has a tub of it back home and its one of his favorite foods; can u link me ur recipe ? i want to make it homemade as a surprise for him in case he ever visits my house （＾ν＾）

!!!!!!! (((: okay so i dont really use a recipe from a site but here's what i do:

ingredience....

some saffron threads! although i heard saffron powder can work too (:

rose water! i like the one by ziyad and any international store should have it (:

pistachios — i think it's easier just to buy the ones that are already deshelled but you can shell them yourself! make sure they're unsalted though (: if you want you can toast them a bit too

half a gallon of vanilla ice cream (i like the one from costco!)

heavy cream

procedure...

set out your vanilla ice cream to melt. the more it's melty the more easier it's going to be to stir everything.

meanwhile pour some heavy cream into a plastic bag and put it in the fridge to harden (:

boil about a cup of saffron tea! just put the saffron threads and water together and let it steep. you don't have to take out the saffron strands...well, i guess you can? i just dump them in later so it's fine if you forget!! if you're using saffron powder i looked up some dude's recipe and here it says about a 1/4th teaspoon of saffron powder

okay cool so once your ice cream is melty, i like to pour it all out in a bigger bowl because it just helps keep things clean. then i pour in the saffron tea and then mix until it turns yellow (: then i add about about 4-6 teaspoons of rose water. it depends! i say start with 2 and then gradually add in to your taste (: and then i toss in the pistachios (uh. go with as much as your heart desires. i like a lot of pistachios so im like, why not be a little heavy handed?)

take out the heavy cream from the fridge and you can hit it with a rolling pin if you want but just crush it up but not too small!!! and then at the end toss it into the mixture. you don't want this to melt and you want the chunks to stay well, chunks.

okay you can like just put it in the fridge in this bowl but i like to pour it back into the original ice cream container. stick in the fridge and wait a bit and yayyyyy bastani<3

#this is not like. the traditional way of making bastani but it's fast and really easy and you can have it within the day if you make it #a few hours earlier which is always nice (((:#but also !!! oh man LOVE when someone you love comes over and you surprise them with their favorite food 🥺💌#flowerwebs

9 notes · View notes

dorki-c · 3 years

Text

Metanoia

Characters: Dabi and reader

Relationship: Dabi X Pro-hero! Reader

Quote: “Metanoia”

Gift for: @glitterfreezed (Aka photoshop goddess) THANK YOU for being one of my very first moots on this crazy platform! I really hope you enjoy this one shot (as I spent way too much time on it XD) and for anybody reading this: GO CHECK OUT GLITTERS PLAYLISTS!! They are honestly amazing!

Tw: Kidnapping, Use of Guns, Slight nudity

Going on patrol lately has been boring.

Sure, (y/n) wouldn’t pass it up for helping little old ladies get across the road or helping itty bitty children find their parents within a crowd.

But besides that, there was little to nothing to do- no paperwork, no criminals terrorising the streets, or vigilantes on loose- the streets were cleared and scrubbed down from any crime lately.

It was strange.

Nothing has been the same ever since Kamino ward as well.

The moment you found out your lover was a villain; you took great lengths to create distance from him. Not sparing him a second glance or another phone call- let’s not forget you blocked his number- although doing these things made you seem like an asshole; you are a hero.

Heroes do not date Villains.

Its absolutely forbidden.

Though should you have stayed with him, something could’ve happened- he could’ve used you for blackmail, ransom, and maybe trafficking- as terrifying as it sounds, at least your far from your old apartment.

At least your away from that freak. That sadistic freakshow, with his stupid smirk and (beautiful) weird ass scars.

Luckily, the clock had ticked to the hour that announced your release from countless wasted minutes of scrolling through your phone as two feet laid disrespectfully on the hero agencies desk where nobody pointed out the blatant rudeness she was showing.

Even if she wanted to stay here, the female should get home soon. Even if there was no problem during the day, that doesn’t reassure that there will be trouble when walking through the evening.

Where you had the inkling of protection that is provided to you by your muscle memory, nobody should rely on themselves to do a simple task like walking home when there is such a thing as societies creepy-crawly insects withering across the nooks and crannies of cities and flooding the deepest rabbit holes with their sickening ideals.

Just thinking about them brings revolting nausea into the churning acid within the insides of your body as it screams out to stay aware of the footsteps you take, of the glances you throw out, and of your hands gripping the cheap handbag- that you bought on a whim from that one charity shop around the corner of the apartment building- when a hand of yours dipped inside the bag to grip the weapon that laid unaware of whose blood it could spill today.

The three walled mirror room moved down from whatever floor it was on and when opening the doors, a small (and annoying) ping was heard through the (also) small lobby area.

When approaching your apartment door with your guard up and one of your hands swiftly opening the rusted door handle allowing a small gust of air to run into the vacant apartment, the eyes of a human watchdog sporadically darted from one place to another.

Making sure she can securely (slam) open the door, the pro hero steps in one footstep at a time like one of the cliché spy movies before throwing her bag down and yanking the heavy weapon out of her bag.

Its matte black exterior elongated to show the vertical and horizontal bits and pieces of the weapon as (Y/n) rested one of her fingers on the trigger whilst fiddling with the safety lock to make it unlock.

Once unlocking the safety lock of the gun, she leaned it towards the ground, turned around for a brief second to retrieve the key from her apartment door, then kicked said door shut with the heel of her foot.

Even when she investigates her almost empty apartment three times without a peaceful resolve at the end, the female is already sitting on her couch scrolling through another apartment renting website for herself.

It’s pathetic.

She’s on the run from her ex-boyfriend because she knows that if she gets caught by him, there will be a low chance of her escaping from his grasp again. It was quite evident from his group’s little broadcast that if anyone “tries to catch us, you’re going to be caught first.”

What if that applies to people wanting to escape from them?

Stripping herself of the day’s tiredness, the female wore the loosest clothing within her wardrobe and ventured out to the shit-tip of her kitchen- the sink only had a few dishes in it, but, otherwise the trash looked like it got taken out once a year and there were so many letters scattered in piles over the counters.

Sighing at the sight, letting a hand of hers travel up her shirt to soothe an itch on her back, (y/n) shook her head at her own mess and still continued to go towards the fridge to dig through it in order to find the cheap- most definitely shitty- microwavable food she bought from the store only three days ago because to be completely honest, she’s saving up for buying a ticket out of this shit country and living in another one.

Ripping the film cover off of the food’s plastic container, she shoved her shitty food in the microwave and let the annoying beep sound through the apartment while (y/n) went into the small living room, grabbed some shorts that were sunbathing under the flickering yellow bulb and put them on in order to take out the trash.

When entering back into the apartment however, a flash of darkness alerted her body to go limp.

What was this feeling of restraint around her arms and legs? Moving one of her wrists- in an attempt to pull them out of the bindings- a harsh rub of a frictional material bit across the sensitive layer of the underside of your wrist, where it elicited a hiss to very subtly slip from your lips.

That seemingly helped beg a question in your curious mind. “Are my eyes covered?” Although when opening your eyes, a flurry of white blinded you causing a multitude of red freckles to dance across the pale illumination.

Whoever thought not putting a blindfold on you was a smart idea, it seems clear to me that they didn’t watch enough spy movies.

Okay, time to take a look of your surroundings.

First of all, Y/n glanced down to see if she had any major injuries- nope, the only thing missing from her body was her clothes and if that didn’t count as being kinky, then (y/n) doesn’t know what it counts as- along with her feet barely touching the carpeted floor, her ankles were tied to what she assumes to be a wooden chair.

Looking off to the side after shifting her gaze from her feet to her forearm her eyes picked out the surroundings behind her and the type of seat she was sitting in. Wow, whoever kidnapped you, really knows how to do it inefficiently.

Though, if they’ve used cheap ass rope and tied you up to a wooden chair- out of all the chairs in the world, they choose a wooden chair- along with forgetting to put a blindfold on you, they probably didn’t take any precaution when kidnapping you because the criminals probably have back up on hold.

Meaning there was more than one culprit involved and that they don’t expect you to get out of this area due to being outnumbered.

Moving your head upwards once more, the outlines of what seems to be a closet and a drawer were all that you could observe before some sort of jiggling sound was emitted through the silent room.

It wasn’t till the door opened that it revealed somebody that (y/n) didn’t expect. A hitch lodged itself like a six-foot down corpse where only grave looters would be able to find it. Was she seeing a ghost? Perhaps. Did she care? Maybe, however she was trained to not overreact in a situation like this.

“Well, look what we have here…” The metal contraptions that held the person’s tough layer of skin nudged a little in the direction of the muscle’s movement. “…A squirming itty-bitty hero.” The venomous hiss of their voice slipped real close to her ear as the lamp pointing obnoxiously into her right eye was turned off.

“So, this was your doing?” Snapped the hero as the villain sat down on her lap and gently grasped her chin- just like the old days- where his fucked up (handsome) grin shone brighter than the hero on her first debut. Dodging the question, the male let his weight lean onto the female’s thighs as she harshly craned her jutted out facial bone away from his hold.

“Oh, and it looks like your still as feisty as ever.”

“Yeah, I am. Got a problem with it, villain?” The hiss made the patchwork villain only recoil an inch backwards before narrowing his pupils at the nickname and gripping the very first thing his eyes land on, your neck, where the surface of his skin was smouldering to the touch.

“I wouldn’t say that if I was in your position.” He proclaimed as the slimming of her lips straightened out to a thin line, “Now, I’m here to offer you a position and…” From somewhere on his body, he pulled a gun- one of the many similar pistols that you hoarded in your apartment for safe keeping- then pointed it straight at your thinly protected heart where the brush of stainless chilled metal tingled the very fabric of your body.

“…it would be wise of you to listen.” Sure, a gun was pointed literally at her chest- lets not forget that she’s being forced into this position of unwillingness- but hopefully, some otherworldly deity will let (y/n) live one more second.

“Okay, good girl?” You’ve never committed to metanoia before, but at this point, you might as well.

#dabi x reader #Dabi lives rent free in my mind #dabi mha #dabi x y/n #Tw: kidnapping mention #Tw: slight nudity #Dabi X prohero! Reader #mha angst #tw: gun mention

30 notes · View notes